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.
Hero
Masks, Part V
Chapter 9: Flatline
Conner wakes up with a smile on his face and M'gann in his arms. She's cuddled up against his chest and the sunlight hits her green skin and bright red hair, highlighting her freckles in just the right way to make him think that he could stay there forever.
The bed's comfortable too. Almost too comfortable—Conner's afraid of moving, because he's so comfortable, and he doesn't know if he'll ever find the same level of lazy comfort if he moves. So he doesn't, he just stays in bed holding M'gann. At least until she moves and nuzzles into him, and then he can't resist the temptation to kiss her.
She responds to the kiss and then open her eyes with a smile.
"Feeling better?" she asks.
"I don't think I've ever felt better," he tells her.
"Mmmm," she moans lazily. "What time is it?"
Conner looks around until he finds a clock on the dresser at the other side of the room. "Late," he says. "It's almost noon."
"Breakfast then?"
"It's like you read my mind."
They go out into the kitchen (they were already dressed). There's a whiteboard, with a note written on it:
"Had some errands I needed to run, but I didn't want to wake you after the night you had. I'll be back around dinner, we can all grab a bite downtown. –Clark"
"Shit!" Conner panics slightly, because he's supposed to be taking care of Mr. Kent, and he's pretty sure Luthor's got to be planning something, and for crying out loud, he doesn't even know where Mr. Kent's gone.
"Can you call him?" M'gann asks.
"I don't know his number."
"Can you call his work?"
So he does, and it takes him a while of having his call thrown around, when someone finally gives him Jimmy Olsen.
"Hey Superboy!" Jimmy says in his overly-friendly tone, "'sup?"
"I've lost Mr. Kent and I was wondering if I could get his cell number."
"Yeah, no problem, except, I just got a new phone and don't have his number in it yet. But Lois has been calling me nonstop this morning, so I can give you hers and she can give you his."
"Great, thanks," Conner says. He takes down Ms. Lane's number and calls her.
"Smallville, where the hell have you been all day?" she answers a little hostile.
"Oh, sorry, it's just me, Superboy," Conner tells her.
"Ah, right, sorry, that's the problem with caller ID. Is Clark there?" she asks.
"No, I was hoping you could give me his number. He left this morning to run errands, and I'm supposed to be looking after him."
"Classic Clark. I swear, the ground just swallows him right up. Sure, his number's 1-555-345-3887, but I doubt you'll have any more luck than I did. I've been trying to call him all morning. His phone's off. It keeps going straight to voice mail."
"Oh."
"Hey, if you find him, can you please tell him to give me a call? I'm on a train to Gotham, but the Planet could really use his inside connections."
"Why are you going to Gotham?" Conner asks.
"Reports started coming out of Gotham Central around 5 AM this morning that Bruce Wayne passed away." Conner's grip accidentally crushes the receiver. "The Gotham Post broke the story. Right now, neither the hospital, nor Wayne Enterprises, nor the GCPD is either confirming or denying it, but it's causing pandemonium on the world markets. I'm going to see if I can find anything out from Dick or Alfred on account of how I used to date Bruce, oh geeze, but I could use Clark on this one, and... and, well he needs to look over the obit so we can go ahead and publish it as soon as we know whether, well, what's going on."
"He isn't dead," Conner says.
"Do you know anything?" Ms. Lane asks.
"I know he's too stubborn to die," he tells her, then adds helplessly: "Superman said so."
"Oh, Superboy," Ms. Lane sighs, and she sounds so sad, "if stubbornness was the only thing you needed to keep you alive, I wouldn't need Superman to save me every time I fell off the thirtieth floor ledge."
"He's not dead," he says, but his throat is starting to hurt. He slams the receiver down—breaking the machine. Well, it was already broken, and it's not like Batman can't afford a fucking phone. It starts to beep, complaining that he hasn't hung it up right. He takes the phone and hurls it across the room with enough force to make a hole in the wall.
"Conner, what's wrong?" M'gann asks, but he can't hear her. He's already calling Robin on the League communicator, except Robin's not answering. He bites his cheek and tries for Superman. Then Wally.
"League communications are down," he tells her. "Fuck," he curses, and wishes he had another phone to throw. "We have to get to Gotham," he tells her.
"Is that where Clark—
"I don't give a damn about Clark right now, I need to get to Gotham, now."
"The bioship can get us there in five minutes, if we hurry," she tells him.
"Then let's go."
This time, Robin doesn't come to greet them. The whole place is swarming with cops and reporters and busy bodies. They get in because Conner has that stupid S on his chest.
The protection only gets stronger the deeper into the hospital they get.
It's Black Canary now, not some fat cop, who is guarding the door. She gasps to see them, her eyes are teary, and Conner wonder's if Batman's secret identity is still a secret in the League. "Go right in," she says so softly that he doesn't know if he'd be able to hear her without super hearing.
The room is even more depressing than before.
Batman is hooked up to so many things, but at least, at least there's still the rhythmic beeping that indicates a heartbeat, and it's not until he hears the beeping that he realizes he'd been holding his breath.
Alfred is sitting next to Batman, holding Batman's still hand. An old woman is standing behind him, her hands on his shoulders. Conner's not sure if she's trying to comfort him, or if she's leaning on him to keep from falling down.
Robin—Richard—is curled in a ball in a corner.
Superman is standing by the window, looking out.
"J'onn?" he asks, without turning.
"No," Conner answers.
Superman turns around. "You're supposed to be watching Kent in Metropolis," he says neutrally.
He's not sure why he says it, it just sort of comes out of his mouth, "I don't really care about Mr. Kent right now." Conner feels like crying again, but he resolves that he won't, not in front of Superman. "I heard… Ms. Lane said that they were saying—I had to know if it was true. But, it's not. Thank God, he's OK."
"No. He's not OK," Robin says. His eyes are red and his voice sounds raw. Conner has never seen Robin so distraught. He looks like a little boy, a scared child, not the friend he knows and loves and trusts.
"Dick," Superman begins to say, but Robin cuts him off.
"No. Don't lie to him. He deserves to know the truth." Robin gets up and looks Conner in the eyes. "He crashed three times last night. The last time it took them nearly six minutes to get his heart beating again. The EEG isn't picking anything up."
"But his heart is beating now," Conner says, desperately.
"There's a pacemaker in his heart now. The only reason it's beating is because there's a machine controlling it!" Robin shouts. "My uncle fell on his head from thirty feet and hasn't woken up for years, and the EEG picks things up!"
"I… I… don't understand," Conner says helplessly. He does understand. He understands what an EEG is. What he doesn't understand is how it could fail to pick up Batman's brain activity, when Batman is the smartest person he knows. Or rather, he understands, but it doesn't compute.
Batman is the one who normally explains things. But Batman's lying in a bed, apparently his heart is only beating because of a pacemaker.
"I am afraid, young Master Conner," Alfred says evenly, "that you do understand."
"Legally speaking," the woman says, "we need to perform a second test tomorrow to confirm, but, it doesn't look good. All we can do now is pray."
"I've called in J'onn. He was in China two hours ago, but he'll be here soon," Superman says.
And so they wait. M'gann looks scared and confused. Conner doesn't want to think about how he looks.
Finally, M'gann's uncle arrives and Superman explains the situation to him. "Please, J'onn," Superman pleads, "can you look and see if there's anything left of him?"
The Martian looks at the man in the bed, who might perhaps be dead even though his heart is beating.
"This is a dangerous precedent," he says. "Humans have their customs and their laws. If I find something while the human devices find nothing, that will change everything for them. I cannot be called to verify the death of every human." J'onn's words wound Conner to his core. They anger Superman, and for an instant, the Man of Steel's eyes glow red.
"I don't give a damn about precedent. I give a damn about Bruce."
"Because you failed to save him, or because he is a major contributor to the League?" J'onn asks, and Conner realizes just how right Wally was about the secrecy that shrouds Batman within the League.
"I'm not asking, J'onn," Superman growls dangerously. Conner feels the hairs on his skin stand up, and despite himself, he takes a step away from Superman.
J'onn sighs. "Very well then." He floats to Batman, puts his hands to Batman's temples, and for a minute, no one in the room dares breathe.
Finally J'onn draws his hands away. "Nothing," he says.
Robin cries out. The super drains out of Superman and he crumples against the wall, folding in on himself and burying his face in his arms.
"I am sorry," the Martian Manhunter says uselessly.
"In that case," Alfred says, "Leslie, may I entrust you to take care of the paperwork? I believe he was registered as an organ donor—
"You frigid son of a bitch," Conner lashes out, "how dare you talk about carving him up for parts?"
Cold fury flashes in Alfred's eyes. But he remains composed. "Young man. I raised this boy from the time that he was five weeks old. I diapered his bottom. I was there when he buried his parents. I was there when he made a vow. My boy cared for nothing more than for his fellow man. He dedicated his life to saving others, it would be the greatest injury not to let him dedicate his death to that very same purpose. You have known him for three years. I have known him for over thirty. I would kindly request you not assume you are the only one here grieving."
"Conner…" it's the first time he's heard that name in Superman's mouth.
"Don't you dare call me that!" he lashes out against Superman, because there's no one else in the room who can take it. "Don't you dare! Not if you're going to give up on him like this!"
"Conner," Robin says, suddenly he looks exhausted and defeated. "I know loss is hard. It isn't easy. It isn't fair. But it's part of life. Bruce learned that when he was eight years old. I did too."
"No, no, it can't be!" Conner refuses to believe it. He turns to M'gann. "You, can you look?" he begs her.
"Conner," she says sadly.
"No. You're a stronger telepath than he is. Maybe he's too weak, maybe—
"Conner, it doesn't work that way."
He falls to his knees before her and hugs her knees. "Please, please M'gann."
She breathes in heavily. "Alright my love, for you I'll try."
Finally, she says, "Darkness."
"As I said," her uncle answers, "nothing."
"No," she shakes her head, still holding on to him, "not nothing. Darkness. It's here as an affirmative choice. A shroud. A shield and a sword and a prayer. Darkness… and vengeance—the night."
"That's him!" Superman shouts with the joy Conner is feeling. "That's him. He's there!"
"Of course I'm here you idiot, did you really think I would walk towards the light?" M'gann says, except it's not M'gann saying it. Then she falls down and Conner rushes to hold her before she reaches the floor. "He's there," she says, "but he's fading, and he's fading fast."
"Can you get him out?" Superman asks.
"It's more bringing up than getting out," M'gann tells him.
Suddenly J'onn steps between M'gann and Superman. "Absolutely not, it's too dangerous."
"What the hell do you mean it's too dangerous? Are you so thick that—
"No Superman. It has become quite apparent that Bruce Wayne is Batman. But what you ask is too dangerous. His consciousness is too far gone. I cannot reach it. For M'gann to try, she must venture in too deep. The chance of success is slim, and the danger that she too might fall is too great."
"If it were any one of us, he'd do it for us," Conner says quietly. They all know it's true. "If you and your uncle worked together, could you do it?"
"It would still be a great risk," J'onn answers.
"But if all of you helped, if all of you tethered us here, it could work," M'gann says.
"He'd do it for any of us," Superman echoes.
M'gann nods. She holds her hand out, and Conner takes it, linking his fingers with hers and holding tight. J'onn takes his free hand. Superman takes hold of J'onn and Robin. Alfred and Leslie finish up the chain.
He feels the pleasant intrusion of M'gann in his mind, and then suddenly, a weight like he's never felt pulls him down. He's so cold he can't feel his fingers and the darkness is all-encompassing. He feels like his arms are about to be ripped off. M'gann begins to slip.
His heart stops.
He can't lose Batman and M'gann. He's a solar-powered battery, but there's no light here.
No, that's wrong.
M'gann is here. M'gann is sunshine and chocolate and summer breezes.
It feels like his arm is falling off. His bicep is burning—it's like pulling up a dwarf star. But he manages. He holds on tightly, as if though for dear life, because M'gann is his life.
They pull him up. He holds on tight.
And then they're back in the hospital room, holding hands.
Bruce Wayne's eyes are open.
[That was an incredibly stupid thing you all did.]
"Ah yes, Master Bruce. So glad to have you back."
And it's like suddenly there's air in the room again, and they all crack up laughing.
[I have to say though,] Batman thinks out loud to them, [thank you.]
Superman, who looks besides himself with joy, grins like an idiot. "By Rao, did hell just freeze over?"
[No. I mean it. I would have been sorely disappointed if I had given Joker the satisfaction of killing me.]
To be continued...
Author's Notes: Did I have you scared with that chapter title? It's weird, breaking this story into chapters, since I just randomly posted it piecemeal when I was originally writing it. Someone originally asked about the inspiration for this chapter when I first posted it. The idea of how they rescue Bruce is borrowed from that JLU episode where the original seven have to pull Flash back from the brink after he pummels Brainthor.
Another random thing I've noticed is that I tend to write J'onn as something of a cold-hearted bastard, which I feel bad about. In animation I feel like he comes across as a pretty blah character, but I find myself writing him as actually unpleasant. Alas.
I've been hoarding chapters because I wanted this fic to have a more or less reasonable review count (mainly because I tend to avoid long stories with few reviews and I assume others do likewise), but I've decided I no longer particularly care, so I'll be posting chapters in batches. Though, if you did want to send me a review, it would make me a very happy person indeed.