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 20: Death of the Endless
Conner knows he's being selfish.
The only reason he's still alive is because M'gann won't let him go. The only reason he's not in excruciating pain is because M'gann is blocking every single physical feeling. It's an extraordinary burden on M'gann. J'onn is glaring daggers, but he doesn't say anything.
Conner knows that if he were a better person, he would tell M'gann to let him go. He'd tell her about the cheery lady dressed all in black that only he can see and that he's not afraid.
But he is afraid.
Not of the lady… though he knows who she is and why she's here. She's nice, warm, comforting. Patient.
Before today, Conner's never given too much thought to Death, but he'd never in a million years thought she would be this pleasant. He wonders if this is what she looked like when she came for Batman's parents, and Robin's.
"I was wearing different clothes," she tells him.
"Do you think it would hurt less," Conner asks her, "if they knew you were this nice?"
"Conner?" M'gann asks.
Death shakes her head and sits on his bed. "No."
"Conner, who are you talking to?"
"You're being very patient."
"Conner? Conner!"
"You're being very brave."
"No. I'm not."
"Modest too," Death says with a wink.
"Are you flirting with me?"
"Actually, I think you're flirting with me. Not as badly or as often as your friend Bruce does, though."
"He's not coming, is he?" Conner asks.
"He's doing the best he can," Death reassures him.
"But... for once, for this once, his best isn't going to be good enough, is it?"
"Only my older brother knows that."
Conner closes his eyes. He's very tired.
"Your older brother," he repeats. He doesn't know how, but he knows who her older brother is. And her younger brothers and sisters too. None of that is Cadmus programming. "He's cruel."
"Crueler than you know. But kinder too. He is what he is. Like I am what I am. That's all we can ever be, ourselves. And you, KR, Superboy, Conner Jones, Kal-El, you have done a marvelous job of being yourself."
"Conner!" M'gann screams again, and this time, he can feel her, all of her, pulling at him, dragging him away from the perky goth, and putting herself between them. "You!" M'gann snarls. "You can't have him."
"I'm afraid, M'gann," Death says, "that decision is out of our hands. Out of mine as well."
"No! No! I won't let you!"
"You have no choice. But if you'll insist in standing between him and me, I can take you too."
"M'gann, no," Conner whispers with finality. He gets up from his body and wraps his arms around M'gann's waist. "It's ok babe," he whispers in her ear. Stay, I'll go. Look at her, she's nice. I'm not afraid."
"Where are you taking him?" M'gann asks.
"That, I do not know and cannot tell you. But I don't think it'd be any place bad."
"Will I see him again?" M'gann sobs.
And Death just smiles and wraps her arms around M'gann, so that she's being held tightly by the two of them. "Oh, sweet, sweet M'gann, of course you'll see him again. In this world, the next, or in another. I promise you on my brother's grave. Daniel will see to that."
"Conner, I love you."
"I love you too, M'gann."
And then he lets go of her and M'gann lets go of him, and it's just him and Death, and behind him, his body and a room full of everyone that ever mattered to him, except the man that mattered most.
His heart stops beating. The line goes flat. M'gann wails. Mid-Nite gets up and pulls a white sheet over Conner's face.
Conner shuts his eyes, swallows, takes a deep breath, and nods. "Ok," he tells her, "Let's go."
Death offers him her hand. He reaches out to take it.
His hand is an inch away from hers, when the loudspeakers blare: "Recognized, Batman B-02—
—Conner pulls his hand back. "He came!"
"Too late," Death tells him.—
—"Get him back!" Superman shouts.
Mid-Nite reaches for the defibrillator paddles.
M'gann delves back in, J'onn is almost too late to reach after her and serve as tether—
"—Lex Luthor A-05."
Watching his life hang in the balance like this is the most surreal experience of what Conner has to admit has been up until now a very surreal life. Mid-Nite yells, "Clear!" and presses the electrified paddles to Conner's chest. Conner sees his body jolt at the shock. His heart doesn't start up again. Mid-Nite does it again. Then, again. Third time's the charm, and finally, the machine starts beeping rhythmically, letting Conner and everyone else in that room know that Conner's body, if nothing else, is still alive.
But Conner doesn't feel any of it. He doesn't feel his heart stop or start. Death doesn't go away. He can't open his eyes.
"Please," Conner begs. "He's here. I… I just want to say goodbye to him."
Death ruffles his hair. "Sorry Con, it's all out of my hands. But I do hope you get to talk to him."
He turns around to face Death. "Is this what it was like for him? I mean… when we thought he was gone? Where you there with him?"
She shakes his head. "No. He was in the Dreaming."
"What was he dreaming about?" Conner asks.
Death shrugs. "You'd have to ask Daniel. Bruce won't tell you. But look, he's here!"
And he is. Batman strides in—no chair, no exosuit, just Batman in his cape and cowl. Clark is up in his face in a flash. "You're late," Clark snarl's in Batman's face. "How dare you?"
"I was busy," Batman answers plainly.
"Busy?" Clark barks out, "What the hell do you mean you were busy? He was dying. He did die. He was dying for hours, and all he wanted was to see you."
Batman grabs Clark by the cape and smashes him against the wall. "I was busy saving his life, idiot." Then he turns to Mid-Nite. "Get him into surgery, now."
"What?" Mid-Nite asks.
"I have a liver—a compatible liver—and you have a transfer to perform."
The doctor snaps to attention, and then, he's calling for help. Batman doesn't miss a beat: together, he and Mid-Nite start to roll the bed Conner's in to the OR.
"This is getting interesting," Death observes.
Conner's not sure he agrees. He finds himself running after his body. It's getting weird, or weirder, and more convoluted.
Clark is running behind them too, eyes wide and confused, and Conner wonders if that's what he looks like right now.
"What the hell do you mean you have a liver?" Clark asks. "Did you get Luthor to clone him a new liver?"
"Luthor is the liver," Conner thinks he hears Batman snarl.
"That's funny," he tells Death. "I thought he just said—
He sees the look on Deaths' face and shuts up.
"What?" Clark asks, stopped dead in his tracks, but Batman doesn't pause to answer. Mid-Nite looks up, face puzzled, but when Batman doesn't even acknowledge Clark's question, Mid-Nite just turns back to monitor Conner's vitals.
"I don't… it doesn't make any sense," Conner says, or pleads. "What's going on? What does it mean?"
Death looks at her watch. "I think it means I might have to take a rain check on this one."
"But… how? Why?"
"You know, normally people are happy when I tell them I'll come back later."
"I… just don't understand."
They push Conner through the doors of the OR. Luthor is waiting there. Maybe it's the fact that he's not wearing a suit or even the orange prison outfits, just a little blue hospital gown, or maybe it's the ugly black bruise around his eye, or the bruises around his throat, or the look of bewildered terror, or maybe it's the fact that Conner's already at death's door, so there's not much more Luthor can do to hurt him, but Luthor looks different. Less imposing, not as threatening.
"What the fuck is this bastard doing here?" Clark asks with a virulence Conner's never heard before.
Luthor doesn't even wince. "I'm here to save the boy's life."
"This is…highly irregular," Mid-Nite says as soon as he's made sure that Conner's stable. "Normally, for this… kind of procedure, there are tests you're supposed to run."
"There isn't time," Luthor answers. "The compatibility checks—Batman showed me the test results, everything checks. And I have to have a complete checkup every year to reassure the markets… I'm in perfect health." Luthor make an awkward sound, something like a strangled chuckle. "Well… If you don't count the bruises."
Mid-Nite shakes his head. "I'm supposed to take your word that everything is fine?"
Batman pulls up a series of documents off of his wrist computer and shows them to Mid-Nite. "There. Proof. Now do what you have to do."
Mid-Nite shakes his head. Conner's mind has sort of shut off by now; he can't process the fact that apparently, Lex Luthor could save his life, or that Mid-Nite is reluctant to do it.
"I swore an oath," Mid-Nite says. "Do no harm. I can't just rush into this head first. I have to do… prepare… a psych eval at least."
Batman laughs, an ugly laugh. Conner can only think how, recently, Batman laughing is never a good thing. " 'Do no harm?' Luthor's a piece of scum. The best possible thing that could happen is for you to harm him. But if you won't operate on him because you're afraid of violating the Hippocratic Oath, I can take care of that problem, right now."
It takes Conner a second to process what's happening, because it's so utterly ridiculous and impossible.
In a flash of motion, Batman's got Luthor's back against him, and the blade of a batarang is pressed tightly against the man's throat. A trickle of blood stains the orange jumpsuit.
"Batman doesn't kill," Conner states, matter-of-factly.
"He hasn't ever," Death says, but he's not sure if that means she's agreeing with him.
"Batman, have you gone insane?" Clark asks.
"No. I have Luthor here. All Doctor Mid-Nite has to do is perform a relatively safe operation and Superboy will be fine. But, I'll be damned if I let Superboy die just because Mid-Nite is afraid. Luthor tried to have the boy killed, one of my kids. As far as I'm concerned, if Luthor's six feet under by the end of this, that's icing on the cake."
"You're not thinking clearly," Clark tells Batman.
"No, he isn't," Luthor agrees. "So, why don't we all calm down before Batman decides slit my throat? Hmm? I assure you, Doctor Mid-Nite, that I am here of my own volition. I am in excellent health. I am a match. I will sign any and every release form you want. There is absolutely no reason for you to refuse to perform a transplant that will save the boy's life. I'm an adult, the CEO and founder of one of the most important and successful technology firms on the planet, and a twelfth level intellect to boot, certainly I can weigh the risks, and I am ready, willing and able to assume them. So be a good doctor, and do your job."
"Why are you doing this?" Mid-Nite asks. "Are you being coerced?"
"Do you not see the gun pointed at my head? Batman has made it quite clear that if the boy dies, he is going to make sure I go with him. Of course I'm being coerced. But that's not why I'm doing it."
"Why then?" Superman asks.
"I know you wouldn't believe me if I told you that I've just found out I have a son, and I find that I don't want him to die, especially not because of me." Luthor laughs. "I'm getting one hell of a deal, Alien. Every charge dropped, and full immunity for all of them. Nice little carrot to go along with the stick. Especially for something that's just going to grow back.
"So, let's get this over and save the boy before it's too late, eh?"
Finally Mid-Nite nods. Batman puts the gun down.
"I don't understand," Conner says.
"You keep saying that kid," Death says, putting a hand on his shoulder, "but I'm pretty sure you do understand." Then she claps her hands and grabs him for a hug. "There's a substantial chance you're going to get to eat your girlfriend's cookies again! And that thing you wanted to do with her in the stratosphere."
Mid-Nite ushers Batman and Clark out of the room, and turns his attention to Luthor.
"He's cutting Luthor," Conner points out.
"Well, you didn't think the liver would just materialize inside of you, did you?" Death asks.
"But, doesn't it hurt?"
Death shrugs. "He's under anesthesia. I imagine it'll hurt when he wakes up. If he wakes up."
Conner turns to look at her. "You mean… he might not?"
She shrugs. "Mid-Nite's a good doctor, but anytime anyone cuts someone open and fiddles with their innards, there are risks."
"You mean Luthor could die?"
"Well, he's going to die. It's just a question of when."
"But… how?"
"Do you really want me to explain kid? I'm sort of an expert in the field."
"No, I mean, why?"
"Oh. The whys and wherefores… I don't know. Human emotion is something I'm less of an expert in. Sorry. The twins might know, but I would avoid them, if I were you."
Midnight cuts Luthor's liver in half and takes out the smaller lobe. Then he sets to work on Conner's sleeping form, tearing up the fresh stitches and opening up the barely healing incision.
A/N: So, did the title freak you out? Or was it reassuring?