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 17: Wayne Manor
Two hours later, Conner still can't sleep. His hand strokes M'gann's hair, and he looks at her sleeping form in the moonlight.
The Manor is quiet, but for the sounds of breathing and beating hearts. Robin's having a dream of some sort, thrashing about quietly.
Alfred is snoring.
Batman is sleeping quietly.
Then a breathing pattern changes, and Conner realizes Batman's awake again. He waits for a minute, then five, after ten, it seems like Batman isn't going back to sleep any time soon, so Conner disentangles himself from M'gann, doing his best not to wake her. He pulls the covers over her and presses a light kiss to her forehead. The door creaks as he opens it, but M'gann doesn't stir.
He wishes he knew how to fly—the Manor is old and the floorboards creak under the weight of his footsteps. He can't help but wonder how Robin manages to be so light on his feet.
His x-ray vision confirms it when he's at Batman's door. He's about to knock, when Batman's voice calls forth, "You can come in Conner, it's open."
He opens the door and finds Batman lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling.
"I couldn't sleep," Conner confesses.
"That makes two of us," Batman answers. Then he bites his lip and adds a second later, "Can I ask you to prop me up?"
Conner goes to Batman, and as gently as he can, he pulls the man up and places the pillows behind him so he can stay up.
"God, I hate being a fucking cripple," Batman says bitterly, and Conner's a bit taken aback, because he's never seen this side of Batman.
"Language," Conner chides, as Batman normally chides him.
It gets a faint smile out of the older man. Conner takes the opportunity to sit on Batman's bed. He places a hand that's meant to be comforting on Batman's leg, but the gesture has the opposite result.
"I can't feel that," Batman says bitterly.
Conner pulls back, as if though he'd burned his hand.
Then he looks at it in the moonlight, as if checking that he really has five fingers.
"You're not a cripple," Conner says, not quite meeting Batman's eyes. "You're still Batman. You still have a brilliant mind and a kind heart, and that's what makes you Batman."
"I think most people would disagree with you on that point," Batman answers.
"I don't think Superman would," Conner says. "Or Robin. You're going to be fine, as long as you listen what your doctors say."
Batman smiles bitterly. "You mean, so long as I lie back useless. I can't do that. I can't leave Gotham without Batman. I shouldn't do it for a day. I certainly can't do it for a year."
"Gotham was standing before you were Batman," Conner says before he realizes it was exactly the wrong thing to say. Batman's face contorts in ugly anger. Batman's never looked at him like that before.
"Before I was Batman, Gotham was a place where punks with guns got away with murder," Batman snarls, and Conner knows he's hit exactly the wrong nerve. And he doesn't know what to say or do, because suddenly the world is turned upside down, and the most constant source of wisdom and stability in his life is glaring at him, as if though he'd just admitted to dumping arsenic in the water supply.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he backtracks as quickly as he can. "That's not what I meant. I'm sorry. I'm so stupid."
Batman's face softens. Conner hides the satisfaction that comes with the success of his gambit. "No, Conner, you're not stupid, and I don't ever want to hear you say that again."
"Still, I'm so sorry. I didn't think," he reaches out for Batman's hand and take is in his. This, he knows, Batman can feel. He takes Batman's hand and brings it up against his forehead. "It's just… we're all so worried about you."
Batman's face softens even further. "Conner," he says softly, "I don't want you to worry about me… you have enough things to worry about as it is."
"I can't help it," Conner smiles. "I love you. You're hurt. Of course I'm going to worry about you. And you have plenty of things to worry about too… it's never kept you from worrying about me."
Conner does his best to look cute. He overplays it and Batman laughs. "You're trying to manipulate me. You're getting ridiculously good at that. I almost didn't notice."
"Nah, I suck at it. I should leave it to the pros. Look at what happened when I tried to manipulate Lois and Clark."
"To be fair," Batman smiles, "that probably would have worked a lot better if you'd known Clark had superhearing."
"I was thinking," Conner says, changing the topic. "You know, about what Lois said."
"The venerable Miss Lane says a lot of things," Batman says slowly, "what in particular did she say that you were thinking about?"
"A couple of things, but mostly, about how she said I could pretend to be you, you know, while you got better." Batman's eyes widen, but before he can veto the idea outright, Conner proceeds to explain himself as quickly as he can. "I know I'm not you, and I know I'm not nearly as good as you, and I know that if anyone other than you should wear the Batsuit, it should be Robin—believe me, I learned that my first Halloween—but I'm here, and I'm more or less the right body-type to pass as you, and where I lack combat skills, I'm at least invulnerable, and I can just drop out of school now, if I'm not going to college anyway, and get a GED instead, and then I'll have enough free time, and you can still be the brains of the operation."
Batman is silent for a while. His face unreadable. When he finally speaks, his tone is so neutral that Conner doesn't know what to make of it. "It's not a terrible idea. I'll take it under consideration. But you're not dropping out of high school."
Conner lets out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "There's another thing."
"Oh?"
"I don't want to be Superboy anymore."
"Oh."
"It's not just because of Superman," Conner says. "Lois brought it up. I'm not really a boy. I've never been affiliated with Superman. It's time I was my own man."
Batman nods silently.
"I haven't really thought it out through yet… but I… yeah."
"Have you thought of a name yet?"
"No," Conner admits.
"And how does this fit into your proposal to fill in as Batman?" Batman asks.
Conner shrugs. "I can put the name change off until after then. Or, I can be Batman full time and then come back new and improved."
"It's something to think about. There's an old Kryptonian legend… Clark told me about it once, about a masked vigilante, not unlike me. He was called Nightwing."
Conner makes a face. "Kind of a girly name, don't you think?"
Batman laughs. "Don't tell Robin that. He thinks it's the coolest name ever. He even drew a costume for it. I'll show it to you, some other time… but you have to take into account he was nine when he drew it."
"That bad?"
"Think disco, make it worse, and then, it's still not as bad as you think."
Conner chuckles. "Any other Kryptonian heroes?"
"Only one that I know of, Flamebird."
"Pass. Sounds like a ballet."
"No, that's the Firebird Suite you're thinking of. We'll think of something. But in the meantime, you should get some sleep. Tomorrow's going to be an interesting day."
"Ok. Do you want me to put you back down?"
"No, leave it. The window is a more pleasant sight than the ceiling."
"Ok, good night Batman."
"You can call me Bruce, you know."
"But, you're Batman," Conner protests.
Batman smiles fondly. "Finally, someone who gets it."
Conner leaves Batman and goes back to find M'gann, pulling her close as he gets back into bed with her.
[Is everything alright?] she thinks to him.
"Yeah darling, just go back to sleep," he tells her softly and kisses her temple.
She curls around him. [I was having such a nice dream—wanna come in?]
He knows all he has to do to is give his mental assent. So he opens the doors of his mind, and feels as M'gann pulls him into her dreams. And what nice dreams they are.
The next morning, Alfred prepares a veritable feast for breakfast.
"Isn't Bat—I mean, Bruce, joining us?" Conner asks.
"No, Master Bruce will take his breakfast in bed," Alfred explains, as he readies a tray of food.
Once he's gone, Robin explains: "He doesn't like letting people see how Alfred has to feed him.
By 10:30, Batman rolls into the kitchen.
"I've confirmed with Clark that he's going to work today and that you'll still be on detail, at least until the end of the week when he leaves for the Middle East—
"Wait, I thought he was leaving later."
"Apparently, he's decided to run away from his problems even sooner. The League has decided that in becoming a war correspondent, he has assumed too much risk, and that when he leaves, he will no longer be afforded League protection… mainly because the League can't offer to body guard everyone who goes into a war zone.
"Also, I have mentioned your proposal to the League. While I retain the right to make the ultimate decision, we will be discussing the issue this coming Tuesday, and I should be able to come to my decision and inform you of it by the time Clark leaves Metropolis for Baghdad."
Conner nods, while Robin and M'gann send him quizzical looks, but Batman doesn't give them an opportunity to ask any questions.
"Robin and Miss Martian, you're off on patrol: start with Crime Alley and East End. If M'gann can make an appearance as me at the Iceberg, I'd appreciate it.
"Conner, you'll be zetabeaming back to Metropolis—my penthouse in Metropolis is tied into the system. You should rendezvous with Clark at the Planet. Any trouble, call me—I mean it."
"Yes sir."
"Alright, you all have your assignments—Conner, come with me—I have some research I have to do in the Cave."
Robin and M'gann disperse, and Conner follows Batman down into the Batcave.
"What kind of research are you going to do?" Conner asks.
"You and Clark both suspect Luthor was behind Joker's escape from Arkham… it's an idea worth investigating," Batman says, but the slight quickening of his heart beat betrays that he's lying and it breaks Conner's heart. But there's nothing much he can do, other than to bow down and hug Batman tightly against him.
"Take care of yourself."
"Call if there's trouble."
"I will," Conner says, and this time, it's him who's lying. He won't give Batman another excuse to recklessly endanger himself.