Conner tried to sit still as Batman hooked him up to yet another machine. It was like being back at Cadmus, with the endless flow of questions and knowledge. They had reviewed math, history, and he had counted to a hundred in over a dozen languages. He had aced every test; all the while the machines he was hooked to maintained its slow steady beeping.

He looked down at his chest. "What are all these wires for?" He had removed his shirt, and Batman had carefully stuck wires to him, his hands had been surprisingly warm, different from the cold clinical touch of the scientists that had created him.

"They're measuring things. Your heart rate, blood pressure. I'm looking to see how much stress your body goes through when recalling information." He neglected to mention that he had also set it up to function as a polygraph test as well. He was reasonably sure the boy wasn't a threat, but at the same time of part of him couldn't let go of his paranoia. It was the same feeling that drove him to keep a small piece of kryptonium, just in case Superman ever stepped over the line. He looked up at the boy, meeting his eyes. They were an intense shade of blue he had never seen in a human. "You're doing...fine." It sounded awkward, forced, even to him. He wasn't sure why he had said anything. The need to reassure the boy was almost overwhelming.

"That's...good." Conner tore his eyes away from the older man, feeling his face heat as blood rushed to his cheeks. At the same moment one of the machines rose in volume, the beeping increasing its pace.

Bruce frowned heart monitor had been the source of the beeping, and just as he moved in to look more closely at the wire, another light when on, accompanied by yet another beep. That was the body temperature monitor, which had no reason for going off at all. He leaned in close to the boy, running his fingers over his chest to see if any of the connectors on the wires had come loose.

"That's odd. All of the readings have changed suddenly..." Bruce ran the back of his hand over Conner's forehead, leaning in close to look into his eyes to see if his pupils were dilated. It seemed the closer he moved in the louder the machines protested.
Conner swallowed dryly. He could feel Batman scrutinizing him, and his hands were unbelievably warm. the closer the older man came to him, the longer his hand rested on his face, the hotter his skin felt, like his blood was boiling. He couldn't understand it. The longer Batman stood over him, the worse he seemed to feel. his mouth was suddenly dry, his mind had ground to a halt. It was like time had slowed down and the universe had shrunk down to just the two of them. He felt a sudden urge to run, to push the raven haired man away and bolt for the safety of his room, and solitude. he couldn't think like this.
Bruce felt the boy flinch underneath his hand, seeming to recoil away from the simple touch. It bothered him more then it should have. He was just trying to see if the boy was running a fever or if the machine were broken, there was no reason for Conner to react like that to a simple touch. Was he so terrifying, so disgusting to be around? It angered him. This kid, acting like he couldn't touch someone unclean, couldn't have him in his personal space. He had that same wholesome aura, that sparkly clean shine to them that he always lacked. And suddenly, he wanted to keep touching him, ruin that purity a little. Superman didn't want him, he was just a cheap copy, not even a real person, so why not?
Conner was so differed from Dick, his own boy wonder. Dick was smart as a whip, a tough fighter, and quick on the uptake when it came to being a superhero. But he was sneaky, capable of lying, something it seemed Conner was incapable of. Superboy was so straightforward and easy to read, and now with that look on his face, the quickening breathing and his red face.

And then it clicked. The heart rate monitors beeping was drowned out by the sound of his own heartbeat. The machine was fine, and the boy didn't have a fever. It was him. The flinching and the squirming, the fact that he couldn't look him in the eye. He jerked his hands back as if he had been stung. Superboy looked up at him through his impossibly long, dark eyelashes, his lips parted ever so slightly. It was too much. He couldn't do it. He took a step back and averted his eyes as he handed Conner his usual black shirt.

"Everything's fine, you can get dressed and go."

Conner fought to keep his face as blank as possible. "Do you think you could keep working with me?" Batman might have been his second choice, but he was as close as he was going to get to a mentor, and being rejected again wasn't something he thought he could deal with.

Bruce looked over at the young man, sitting there clutching his shirt to his muscular with the chest with the saddest look on his face. He couldn't do that to him. "Fine," he sighed. "I'll come by the base tomorrow to work with you."