Originally this was supposed to be out in late January, but your girl got ~sick~. Ear infection followed up by a bout of covid, and I've been battling what I fondly refer to as 'the post-covid tireds' which absolutely killed any and all creative spirit. Constant vigilance, kids.
Please take this very long chapter of which I have been long awaiting, as penance for my shoddy immune system. It's like, 13k words. I feel like I've aged a thousand years just editing it.
MOUNT JUSTICE
NOVEMBER 25TH, 2010
10:25 EST
Thanksgiving was definitively the strangest of the widely celebrated Terran holidays, which had been Ski'Lira's unwavering opinion since she'd first learned of it. She had never had reason to participate, but this year was different, all thanks to M'Gann and Zatanna. The two had concocted a plan.
Likely M'Gann's investment originated from a turkey day-themed episode of Hello, Megan! that they had yet to be exposed to, and she had just been waiting for the day to come so she could reenact it. Zatanna's enthusiasm seemed to stem from a more... personal place, but Ski'Lira wasn't going to bring it up unless the young magician did so herself.
No matter the cause, the result remained the same, Team Thanksgiving was on.
Ski'Lira had been told in clear terms that she had no obligation to participate, but with her parents busy with a longer than average League meeting and no scheduled patrols, she literally had nothing better to do.
So far, her first Thanksgiving experience had gone... rather poorly.
M'Gann had made an earnest plea for someone to make a last minute trip to the store, as she was horrified to discover that the 'fresh cranberries' she'd purchased two days before had already gone bad.
She walked on foot to the closest grocery store in Happy Harbor, firmly in civilian disguise, only to witness the cruel desperation that last-minute shoppers were exhibiting. Shelves were cleared, people were shoved, and items were liberally stolen from other shoppers' carts and baskets.
A fully adult woman had tried to slap Ski'Lira in the face for 'getting too close to her shopping cart'. Only her long-honed reflexes kept her from getting what were sure to be long scores across her face from the woman's baby pink acrylic nails.
Those cranberries that she'd literally risked having her blood drawn over? Now they were being casually snacked upon by one Wally West, stolen from their tray as if he had any right to the spoils of her infiltration of enemy territory.
"Gobble, gobble! I love Thanksgiving!" Wally obnoxiously declared. Before he could snag another handful of stolen berries, a telekinetically hovering wooden spoon whacked him on the back of his hand.
"Those are for dinner, Wally!" M'Gann reprimanded.
And what a dinner it was turning out to be. The two self-imposed chefs were literally pulling out all the stops, in the process of creating what Ski'Lira could only describe as a television perfect dinner. Massive bowls piled high with sides, casserole dishes waiting to be put in the oven closer to dinner time, multiple picture-perfect pies, the standard pumpkin and other popular flavors like apple, blueberry, and cherry, and the largest turkey Ski'Lira could conceive of.
Honestly, the warring food aromas were a little sickening to Ski'Lira's sensitive olfactory system. Luckily, she'd been told in no uncertain terms that they didn't trust her, as M'Gann had 'no proof of her culinary process' and 'wasn't willing to risk it'. So here she sat on a stool behind the counter, nursing a mug of tea she'd managed to sneak in making and paging through a book on the French Catacombs she'd retrieved from the library.
Zatanna was putting the finishing touches on preparing the turkey, muttering a backwards incantation to fling various spices onto the raw flesh in a perfectly even smattering. Why the girl didn't just do it manually, Ski'Lira didn't know. Magicians were just Like That. "There!" Said magician and temporary cook was grinning wide. "Seasoned to perfection and ready for the oven!"
M'Gann used her telekinesis to safely transport the turkey into the hot oven, door clanging shut behind it. If this kitchen wasn't equipped with only the finest of kitchen appliances, they probably wouldn't have been able to do all this in-house. "Wally, I thought you were eating out with your family?"
The firm reminder cut through Wally's instinctive call to food stealing. "Oh yeah, dad'll kill me if I'm late!" Popping an entire handful of cranberries into his mouth, he sped off before M'gann could admonish him again (or Ski'Lira could throw her book at him). "See ya!"
"Wally!"
A sniffle disrupted the teasing atmosphere, turning it somber. Desperately trying to swipe tears from her cheeks with the backs of her hands, Zatanna's shoulders had curled in. "Oh, it's nothing. Just the onions."
M'Gann stepped towards the younger girl, putting a hand on her shoulder in a silent show of support. Wordlessly, Ski'Lira handed over a clean hand towel, which Zatanna took with a wobbly smile. "These are all the things I used to cook for... It's... My first Thanksgiving without my dad."
M'Gann fully embraced her then.
Not wanting to interrupt the moment, Ski'Lira opted to make a quiet retreat in order to offer some privacy. She was just in time to hear Conner mutter to himself as he petted Wolf. "At least she had a dad."
Like he'd been shot, Conner let out a low cry and clutched his head, staring around in confusion a moment later. Genuinely worried for his well being, Ski'Lira was about to question him, only for him to abruptly stand and make a beeline for the door.
"Conner?" M'Gann too had been alerted by the abrupt movement.
"Figured you didn't want my help in the kitchen." Conner snapped back. "Remember the last time?"
"Uh... Yeah? But-"
"Just walkin' Wolf. No big."
M'Gann let the matter go with some reluctance, no doubt more immediately focused on Zatanna's emotional wellbeing.
Ski'Lira on the other hand, wouldn't let the matter lie, eyes narrowing with suspicion.
H
WASHINGTON, DC
NOVEMBER 25TH, 2010
11:28 EST
Watching the movements of her kast via the Cave security system might be considered an invasion of privacy, but right now she didn't really care about the morality of the action. She remained glued to the monitor, tracking Conner as he stopped by the hangar to retrieve Sphere, then made his way to the Zeta tubes.
Accessing Cave data was easy, something Robin had taught them all how to do after the incident with the androids. The system also kept a precise record of every Zeta activation, and its destination. If there was a way to bypass having that information put into the system, she didn't know it, and Conner certainly didn't.
Speaking of which, his registered location was... The Hall of Justice?
That only concerned her further. Why would he possibly be going there? It was highly unlikely he was meeting a member of the League, they were all in the Watchtower having some big meeting her parents hadn't shared the details of.
Something was tugging her instincts the wrong way, so she suited up, but not in her usual armor. Wanting a more stealthy approach, she'd dug out the motorcycle and the black out motorcycle helmet Canary had gifted her. Neither item had been touched since the AMAZO debacle. She merely slung both over the long sleeved shirt and jeans she'd already been wearing, tucking her wings down tight.
In the spirit of stealth, she also opted to abscond with her fully repaired motorbike.
Following Superboy was laughably simple, as he wasn't bothering in the slightest to hide under cloud cover. With how few people were out and about due to the holiday, the lack of caution made some sense, but it was still dumb. Though the lack of safety was making her job just that much easier.
That led to the current moment, where she sat perched on the seat of her bike, parked and turned off on the empty bridge stretching over the park. Now she had the perfect vantage point of where Superboy had landed, and could hopefully get an answer to this mystery.
The spot didn't remain empty for long, as a short white limo pulled up. When the driver's side door opened, revealing a woman in a pristine skirt suit, her danger senses immediately jacked up to eleven. It could only be Mercy... The silent personal assistant and notoriously dangerous bodyguard of one Lex Luthor.
From the backseat emerged the man himself, a plastic smile already set on his face.
Leaping off Sphere, Superboy strode forward to confront the man who presumably summoned him here.
"Superboy!" Luthor held out a hand, as if this was just another friendly introduction. "My name is Lex Luthor, I'm the new chairman of the board for Project Cadmus."
That tidbit of information threw her. Luthor being in charge of anything was an ill omen, but an organization as controversial (and shady) as Cadmus? Batman had to know about this already... And if he didn't, well... She was starting to formulate possible ways to tell him that wouldn't immediately get her grounded.
Meanwhile, Conner had fully ignored the extended hand, and was crossing his arms. Beside him, Wolf was letting out a low, rumbling growl. "I know who you are, Luthor. And I want nothing to do with you. Or Cadmus." Making the correct choice, Conner opted to walk away right then and there.
Nothing good ever came from letting Lex Luthor run his mouth.
As if to prove her point, the next words the supervillain spoke changed the entire situation. "Cadmus has created a new super clone."
H
Breaking into Cadmus was about as laughably easy this time as it was the first go around. After their initial adventure in this building, Hawkgirl had retained her knowledge of its basic layout, and was fully abusing that privilege.
She'd managed to wiggle into the surface building via a window that someone had fully left open. From the lingering stench emanating from the nearby breakroom, likely someone had microwaved something they shouldn't have and nearly caused another fire (this one actually unintentional).
Between then and now, the number of above level staff had been significantly cut back, the few workers she did see ensconced in their cubicles, none the wiser to her presence.
After that, it was slightly trickier. Conner was probably already in the sublevels, and the only way she knew how to reliably access those was via the elevator. And she didn't exactly have Robin around to hack his way into the system and override the level of access.
Hastily summoning the elevator (like hell was she going to risk being overheard physically wrenching the doors open as Aqualad had before), she ducked in and started to spam the close door button before she could be noticed. The moment the doors slid shut, she went for the emergency access door at the top of the cabin, disguised as a plain ceiling panel.
Once on top of the cabin, she was greeted with the familiar, unusually cavernous interior of Cadmus' main elevator. Unfortunately, she was on the wrong side of the cabin. She shimmied to the back of the shaft furthest from the entry points, where there was a two foot gap between the cabin and the wall. Steeling herself, she kept her eyes closed so that she at least couldn't physically see the torture she was about to put herself through.
Wings folded as far into her back as she could manage, she dropped herself down through the gap, keeping a careful grip on the numerous handholds littering the exterior of the cabin. Now that just left the issue of getting down.
Hanging by one hand from the bottom of the elevator, she unzipped her jacket with the other, wriggling her shoulders to slide the material down just enough to pop her wings out. Now able to safely descend, she glanced around, and felt a little thrill of pride seeing a series of long grooves left behind by her clawed gauntlets months ago.
Finally, she reached the sublevels. Dropping onto the floor, she tucked her wings back away, zipping up her jacket with a sharp jerk. This time she had no choice but to pry open the doors with her bare hands, but at least this time the racket wouldn't be so obvious.
It was as she was pushing the doors back into place that she heard the scuffle of boots, and she rushed to duck out of sight behind a corner. Two guards were headed straight for her position, decked out in heavy body armor and with automatic rifles in hand. With two possible directions (if she wanted to remain unseen, at least) and no clue which way the guards would take on their patrol, she was struck with momentary indecision.
"Go left," a voice chimed in her head, immediately putting her on edge.
Never one to trust a sourceless voice, even if it was providing advice, she was immediately skeptical. "And who the hell are you?" She thought back with all the vitriol she could muster.
"Dubbilex," he answered, offering his identity as if this were a casual greeting. "We have... met before." In her mind's eye, she was shown an image of a blue-skinned, horned Genomorph, the one who had orchestrated Conner's escape. "Your time grows short."
Without any better option (and at least a modicum of personal experience with the man), she followed Dubbilex's instruction. She waited, fully expecting to be immediately betrayed, but relaxed by the smallest margin when the guards took the right hallway.
In the clear, she thought back at Dubbilex, assuming more than anything there was still some sort of telepathic link. "I would really like to know why you decided to help. Aren't I technically the intruder here?"
"It would not be the first time."
"I was led to believe we were invited." She snapped back.
"... I will concede that point." Dubbilex said. "My reasoning is simple. You are here for Superboy."
"... That's it?"
"That is it. Now, you will want to take the first turn on your left."
Still untrusting of his willingness to just... help her creep about Cadmus, she followed his directions anyway. If she hadn't, her stubbornness would prove to be her downfall, as this place was even more mazelike than she remembered. The twisting tunnels, formed from some sort of organic, fleshy matter formed over manmade structures, created a nightmarish labyrinth that she had no hope of navigating under her own power.
It took her a few minutes to realize that it wasn't just the design down here that was tricky, but Dubbilex was purposefully having her double back and take long routes. "Why such a convoluted path?" She prompted, a little frustrated now.
"In order to keep your presence a secret, it is necessary." Dubbilex was unfazed in the face of her ire, voice still that same placid lilt. "I will lead you to Superboy when he is no longer under direct supervision."
Well that sounded ominous.
Down here, she had no way of knowing the exact amount of time that had lapsed, but to her best estimate, she'd been wandering about without a true destination for at least twenty minutes. But finally, Dubbilex offered her a gift, an actually straightforward route to take, promising her that the initial danger had passed.
He claimed that the final tunnel he led her through was constructed after the blueprints were made, punched through the existing building and layered with more of that organic coating. That explained why it was much smaller than the paths she'd been taking so far.
She warded away the lingering panic by focusing on her breathing. Being able to clearly see either end of the tunnel, knowing that there was at least one clear exit, was helping immensely to curb her claustrophobia.
The sooner they were done with this delving back into Cadmus' secrets, the better. Her hatred of this place's fondness for endless underground tunnels hadn't faded in the slightest.
Instead of a traditional ending to this particular tunnel, she was led to a hole in the floor, one that looked like it was punched through. Eerie blue light emanated through the opening. Peering down, she was greeted with the sight of a familiar chamber, though far more... overgrown. A glowing glass casket with Kr printed on the front took up the center of the room, still powered despite it long being empty.
Standing before it, staring into his own translucent reflection, was Conner, Wolf faithfully at his side.
Her approach must have made some kind of audible noise, as Superboy's head snapped up unerringly towards her direction. "Who's there?!"
Seeing as there was absolutely no sense in obscuring her presence, Ski'Lira dropped down. The impact jarred her joints, but wrought no damage.
"Stand down, Superboy, it's just me."
Visibly startling backwards, his eyes abruptly narrowed. "What are... Have you been following me?!"
"Obviously," her eye roll went unseen behind the blacked out visor of her helmet. "And I'm glad you did, considering you were lured away by Lex Luthor."
"You saw... How long have-?"
"Since you left the Cave," before he could start yelling at her, she continued. "Why did you even listen to him? Luthor always lies. He lies with every breath he takes!"
"He said Cadmus had another clone!" Superboy bit back, hands curling into fists. "I couldn't just-"
"And you believed him?!"
"Dubbilex confirmed it!"
That threw her, her mouth opening and closing as her further arguments fizzled. "Did he now?" Why did he omit that so very important fact when he was playing tour guide earlier? "Alright, so... What now?"
Superboy picked up on her exasperated mood, staring at her with wariness. "You're asking me?"
"This isn't a mission." She reminded him. "I'm not here as your superior, or even your teammate. I'm here as your friend."
An abrupt whine came from Wolf, who was frantically scratching at a section of wall. Any further argument from Conner about her presence vanished at that moment. He crossed over the area in question, pressing his hand flat against the wall, listening. "... Do you hear that?"
At his direction, she headed over to confirm, picking up on the mechanical humming now that he'd pointed it out to her. It felt... different, from the rest of the background noise that littered the empty complex. She gave him a sharp nod in confirmation, which was all he needed to tear away the fleshy part of the wall.
Behind the fragile covering was a circular, metallic door, about twice as tall as they were. Digging his fingers in, Superboy wrenched the newfound entrance apart. The two were promptly blasted with frigid cold air, and Hawkgirl was once again glad for her species' higher tolerance for extreme temperatures.
The reason for the significant drop in temperature was hauntingly clear.
Lines and lines of glowing blue tubes, glass in various states of frosted over, stretching back dizzyingly far into the expansive chamber. Cadmus must have taken advantage of some kind of pre-existing cave system under their facility (location likely selected because of it), because the amount of excavation it would take to do it all manually would take decades.
Suspended in liquid were beings, some full figures, some just detached limbs, all following the basic physiological structures she'd come to recognize in Genomorphs. A cryogenics facility?
Superboy was already jumping down before she could even try to caution him against charging in.
His destination was the center of the room, where the largest container stood freely standing by itself. Unlike the others, it had a semi-circle of desks surrounding it, littered with blinking buttons and monitors. Most of the screens bore an influx of vitals information, all emblazoned with the name 'Project: Match'.
Ski'Lira was focused on the screens, trying to deduce exactly what they were trying to scan so carefully. There was a convenient list of registered BPM, blood pressure, oxygen levels, and whatever else a doctor would take as a standard baseline of health, but the numbers were all off for something of Terran origin. The current vitals were all stagnated, understandable as 'Match' was registered in cryostasis, thanks to another batch of numbers displaying the level of chemicals maintaining the state.
Her investigation meant she didn't register that Superboy was taking the initiative, and stepped up to the window of the chamber without fear. Swiping at the glass, he revealed a mirror of his own face, eyes closed in artificial slumber.
Oh.
So Cadmus had created another Kryptonian after all. The non-Terran numbers made sense now.
Jaw set, Conner's eyes flickered over the monitors she was inspecting, then on an obviously placed button.
"Superboy, wait-"
Hand slamming down on the button, the glass casket began the defrosting process. Lid lifting with a pneumatic hiss, the white-suited Kryptonian's fists started to clench. This 'Match's' muscles twitched as he was given back control of his own body. When his eyes fluttered open, he revealed silver irises and solid black sclera.
"It's okay," an earnest, soft grin was stretched across Conner's face. "You're free now."
Match's eyeline dipped to the scarlet shield emblazoned on Conner's shirt.
Then, he lunged.
The sheer amount of sound and force generated from the impact was akin to a thunderclap, as the two Kryptonians were sent tumbling across the freezing metal floor. Superboy managed to scramble to his feet first, flinging Match off of him and through a series of tubes, frigid chemical contents splattering all over the floor along with a shower of reinforced glass.
Match's leap out of range of another swipe was preternaturally graceful, and dread seeped into Ski'Lira's veins as she realized that Match wasn't merely jumping about. He was flying.
Whatever had happened in the process of creating Conner that divested him of some aspects of his Kryptonian heritage, that apparently had been some fluke, as this new version had at least one less limitation.
She really hoped he didn't have the laser vision, too.
The two combatants were moving far too fast for her to safely intervene. She may relish in the thrill of battle (especially against strong opponents she could really test her mettle with), but she was also smart enough to know that if she stepped in front of just one of those super-powered punches, well... She'd be little more than a stain on the floor.
Match managed to snag Conner by the front of his shirt, dragging him up the side of a tube with a harsh squeal. Conner's hands were up, eyes shot wide. "Stop! I'm on your side!"
Metallic eyes locked onto the shield again, and Conner was unceremoniously thrown off into the depths of the tunnel, back towards the entrance. There was a series of crashes, and then a low cry of pain.
Wolf rocketed forward, teeth bared, only to be flung after Superboy.
Now seeing her first possible opening, Ski'Lira dropped down from her (relatively) safe perch on top of one of the undamaged tubes. Her mace was held out in front of her, ready to strike. Faster than she could track, a smooth hand (almost baby smooth, entirely unmarred by callouses) locked around her throat.
With glacial indifference, Match flew in a straight line, dragging her along through a series of the glass structures. Jagged shards sliced through the material of her jacket, rending large tears in the fabric. Any lacerations she felt appeared minor, but there was now way of knowing without careful inspection. After all, she had something of a track record of successfully ignoring injury.
Match hovered above the prone figure of Superboy, still holding her aloft with an eerily blank face.
"You can fly?" Conner's blue eyes darted between her and Match, knuckles white as he clenched his hands into fists. "Why can you fly?"
Ski'Lira was dropped, hitting the ground hard as Match and Superboy engaged in one on one combat. Already she could feel the dull, hot ache as bruises developed around her throat, as well as warm trickles of her own blood from the unseen cuts littering her back and wings.
A quick examination (by feel, seeing as visual inspection was out the window) proved they were likely all surface level, and her healing ability would seal the slices without difficulty. Unless there were bits of glass embedded in the flesh, in which case she was in for a difficult extraction later.
Worried about Wolf, who so far hadn't moved from his boneless sprawl, she crawled over to the canine. Her hasty medical check was carried out to the background noise of high-strength blows being traded in rapid fire succession.
Wolf had no bones out of place, he wasn't struggling to breathe, and his heartbeat remained strong and steady. There was nothing else she could do for him but trust in his genetically modified physiology.
"I don't want to do this!" Superboy's yell made her snap her head back towards the high-stakes duel. His opponent had grabbed him again, punching him away, but in the process Superboy ripped the front of Match's jumpsuit completely off.
With a jerk, Wolf roused into consciousness, claws scrabbling on the ground as he clambered to his feet. Knowing his boy was in danger, Wolf jumped back into the fray, but just as soon as he did so, he was swatted back down.
"Enough!" Running up behind Match, Superboy locked his arms around his counterpart in a full Nelson. "I'm trying to help you!"
A wordless yell of frustration left Match's mouth, who promptly flew up into the ceiling. Flipping the now limp Superboy around, Match tossed him to the floor and stomped down on his ribs with full force.
Superboy was left in a crater, arms akimbo, skin mottled with bruising, and fully unconscious.
She'd... She'd never seen him bruise before.
Any self-preservation instincts she had went out the window, as Ski'Lira tore over and knelt in front of Superboy's prone body. Gripped tight in her hands, white energy began to crackle across the head of her mace.
"Try it, Kryptonian," she growled, an inhuman edge to her tone.
She braced herself, readying for what could very well be her last moment, but...
He stopped.
His eyes remained on Superboy's shirt for a few seconds, then he walked over to the nearby door, where he could see his own dim reflection. Red burned in his eyes as twin beams shot towards the surface, bouncing back and carving into Match's flesh. A crude, backward facing 'S' was lasered into the near-impenetrable skin.
The casual mutilation was baffling to Ski'Lira, and she was torn as to what she should do (if she should, or could do anything). Did she attack now? Or just let him be? For the first time since his waking, he was... calm. Docile.
Before she could decide, Match cried out in pain, clutching at his head and writhing where he stood. Screaming out in agony, he took off into the depths of the facility with reckless abandon, slamming into the sides of the tunnel and sloughing away large chunks of organic matter.
Immediate threat absent (for now), Hawkgirl dropped her mace and frantically checked Superboy over. Just as she'd gotten her fingers under his jaw to check his pulse, rapid footsteps sounded behind her.
Bodily grabbed, she immediately fought back as two armored guards attempted to hold her down. Their gloved hands battled for purchase as she twisted about. Her head cracked to the side hard enough to shatter one's nose despite the helmet he was wearing, while the other had his arm twisted dangerously far, one tiny jerk from being popped entirely from its socket.
"Identify your-" She caught a glimpse of Guardian's golden helmet as she spun in place, taking the guards with her to the ground. With a few deft maneuvers, she was freed from their attempts at restraint, and she was back on her feet with her mace back in hand. "Hawkgirl, is that you?"
If the mace wasn't an obvious enough identifier, Guardian had likely spotted the feathers peeking from her damaged jacket.
"You have a hell of a lot of explaining to do, Guardian." Hawkgirl hissed at him, holding her mace out at him accusingly.
Meanwhile, a black woman she didn't recognize was in the process of crouching by Superboy, clipboard clasped against her chest like a shield. "His injuries are extensive. We should put him in the pod."
Hawkgirl saw red, "Oh like fucking hell you are-" Hawkgirl managed a single step towards the mystery scientist before Guardian grabbed her himself, his grip far more secure.
"We're not the enemy here." Guardian insisted, letting go immediately once he'd stopped her instinctive charge. "She just wants to help him, and this is the best way."
"The artificial sunlight generator the pod is equipped with is the only way he can heal back to full capacity down here." The scientist insisted, a waver to her voice as she nervously adjusted her glasses.
"Then we carry him outside." Ski'Lira argued. "You can't just expect me to-"
"Do you want us to call the League?" Guardian's tone had dropped, no sign of the familiarity with which he had spoken to her and her fellow young heroes before. "You think they'll be happy to learn that you broke in to a private facility? Trespassing is still very much illegal."
"I think they'll respect how easily I got past your abysmal security." She shot back. Any good will she had ever felt for this man was gone. "Besides, you really think they'll take your side? Not with what all I've seen."
Guardian opened his mouth to respond, a bit of desperation in his eyes, but when he spoke... All the words came out senseless and garbled.
Ski'Lira's vision abruptly began to waver as her limbs started to tremble with sudden weakness, then everything went black.
H
For exactly how long she had remained blacked out, she didn't know, only that when she did awaken, she was in a different room entirely. During her unwilling slumber, her limbs had been bound with metal restraints made for enhanced individuals. A few test tugs of the metal proved it to be strong, and the warning zap she received from the infused technology dissuaded her from trying again.
From her position on the floor, she could see a blurry monitor (or rather, a monitor through her blurred vision) displaying a live feed of Superboy's old pod... no longer empty.
Movement caught her eye, a smudge of metallic gold, and she forced herself upright so that she could glare at Guardian. "The hell did you do to me?"
Glancing over from the tablet he was interacting with, he offered, "Match did a number on you. Surprised you stayed conscious as long as you did."
That... did not seem right.
All Match did was strangle her a little and toss her around. If she'd been injured severely enough to lose consciousness, she would have registered it when she did that cursory check on herself. And the way she blacked out, and how she was feeling now... Sudden onset, coming to with a dry mouth and severely blurry vision, lingering headache...
Her eyes flickered over to Dubbilex.
Oh that bastard. It was nearly identical to her previous bout with psychically induced sleep.
With nothing else she could do, she resigned herself to fighting off the lingering symptoms and waiting, keeping close watch on the monitor.
It was with gleeful vindication that she watched Conner literally tear his way out of the pod, damaging it so severely it was unlikely it could be used again anytime soon (if ever). The other occupants in the room were not nearly as thrilled. Guardian, the doctor she never got the name of, and Dubbilex all sprinted out of the room.
"Hide," Dubbilex's voice chimed in her head
The cuffs around her wrists snapped open, clanging to the ground. She wasted zero time, tearing out of the door in the direct opposite direction from where her captors had gone. Seeing she'd found herself in a larger room, she used some exposed scaffolding to climb her way up onto a perch near the ceiling. Enshrouded in shadow, she waited.
"Are you well enough to move?" Dubbilex asked a few minutes later.
"I'm fine." She insisted.
"Good. I will help you rendezvous with Superboy."
Still incensed from the psychic attack earlier, a low growl rumbled in her throat. "How can I be sure this isn't some... elaborate trap? The last time I was here, your machinations to save Superboy nearly resulted in my kast having our DNA harvested before being disposed of."
"Tell me, Hawkgirl." Dubbilex remained unfazed. His inherent calm in any situation was... admirable. "Why in your mind have I never heard you use the word 'clone'? Not when faced with Match, nor when recollecting your precious encounter with Cadmus?"
"My people don't have a word for that. Any being, genetically engineered or otherwise, possesses their own, unique identity."
"And that is why I am helping you." He answered her initial query succinctly. "My brother is safe with you watching over him."
"Because I care about him."
"I can see that, too."
Less suspicious of his motives (still suspicious, just... less), Hawkgirl found it easier to follow Dubbilex's directions. This time, he didn't tarry with long drawn out detours, instead doing as he promised, leading her directly to Superboy.
There he stood at the end of a nondescript hallway, looking no worse for the wear despite the beat down he'd received at Match's hands.
To her utter shock, the moment he saw her, he sprinted towards her and pulled her into a tight hug. Conner miscalculated his strength a bit, the breath whooshing from her lungs and her ribs creaking a little. Nearly as quickly as he'd begun it, Conner drew back, hands on her shoulders and eyes flitting over her. "What happened to you? Did Match-?"
"Just cuts and bruises. Guardian took issue with my intrusion and detained me." She rushed to explain. "Something strange is happening here, Superboy. Far beyond what we've been allowed to see."
Conner scowled, a haunted look in his blue eyes as he muttered. "You don't know the half of it."
Before she could presson him on what the hell that meant, a hidden door suddenly slid open beside them, revealing a staircase spiraling down. The steps were carved into the rock itself, the way illuminated by a green light from an unseen source.
With no other direction they could go, they took the stairs down.
And they had no way of predicting what they ended up finding below.
An entire city lay below Cadmus.
Dwellings shaped and built from the pre-existing rock were set around a central square, while a mixture of bioluminescent genomorphs flitting about the high-set ceiling and glowing fungi provided dim illumination. Any lingering vestiges of her claustrophobia while traversing Cadmus' subterranean facility instantly vanished, shaken off due to the sheer expanse of this naturally occurring cavern.
Genomorphs of all shapes and sizes prowled around. Most were working to build more dwellings or repair pre-existing ones, but she saw a small group of the tiniest Genomorphs that were playing a game akin to tag. They weren't just hiding down here, they were surviving, living.
From the shadows, Dubbilex stepped into view. "Welcome, brother, to Genomorph City."
H
GENOMORPH CITY
NOVEMBER 25TH, 2010
14:41 EST
They made an unlikely quartet as they walked the streets of the developing village, the newcomers being granted a thorough tour. There were no more secrets, now that they'd seen into the heart of Dubbilex's plans.
By now, Ski'Lira had shrugged off her shredded jacket, tying it around her waist and letting the air of the pleasantly drafty cave ruffle her feathers.
"So, you're responsible for the missing genomorphs." Superboy was saying to Dubbilex.
"I am," the Genomorph confirmed. "One by one I have liberated them, brought them here. To a new life, where all our brothers can be free. Of course, I have a dream that one day the world you live in will accept us. But for now, no one must know Genomorph City exists." Pausing, Dubbilex's hand stretched out, gesturing around a corner. "Which is why I brought our brother here."
Stepping around the rock wall, they saw him. All of the fire had left Match, leaving him bereft of... any visible emotion, really. Slumped on his knees, lengths of chain criss-crossed his torso and arms, binding him to a pillar. Perched atop were three G-Gnomes, small horns glowing a vibrant crimson.
"What have you done to him?!" Conner demanded, whirling on Dubbilex to glare at him before heading towards his imprisoned genetic kin.
"He is safe," Dubbilex answered, unbothered by the sudden anger thrown his way. "The G-Gnomes keep him docile with their psychic abilities."
A sick feeling was starting to settle in Ski'Lira's gut.
"And the chains?" Conner pointed out the obvious. The chains had to be symbolic, right? Because there was no way that those would have any chance of holding a Kryptonian, especially one that had zero propensity for strength mitigation.
For the first time she'd seen, Dubbilex's expression changed ever so slightly, a displeased turn down of the mouth. "Should he escape in his current condition, he could set back the Genomorph cause by decades."
"So you hold him prisoner like Cadmus held me?" As Conner ranted (rightfully so), Ski'Lira found herself unable to look away from Match, even as the argument started to escalate.
He looked so... forlorn. Every bit a lost little boy who had no idea what was happening around him.
"You might as well have put him in a pod!"
"Our goal is rehabilitation. We will release him when he is ready."
"That's not your call!"
Eyes still locked on Match, she was the only one that saw the exact moment that silver eyes flitted to Conner's shirt like a moth to flame. Her hand went for her mace, but she was far too slow. Match surged forward, snapping through the chains as if they were dry pasta rather than industrial-strength links of steel.
Superboy was tackled into the nearest pile of rock, with Wolf darting after him, only to be casually thrown away as the canine had every time before.
Horns glowing a bright yellow, whatever telepathic attack Dubbilex attempted failed miserably in the face of Match's unrelenting rage. The white-clad Kryptonian slammed the ground at the elder Genomorph's feet, sending him sprawling.
Hawkgirl swept in, landing a solid hit with her mace between the rampaging Match's shoulderblades, and he reeled forward from the impact. Intuiting the retaliation, she flapped her wings and took to the air, feeling the puff of air from the punch she'd instinctively dodged.
By poor circumstance, her departure from the field of battle gave Match a perfect line of sight on Superboy, and he went straight for him again. Clouds of dust erupted into the air, fully obscuring her view of their bout.
A few tense moments later, Superboy tumbled out from the cloud of fine debris, ending up on his hands and knees.
Ski'Lira was fully prepared to swoop down to intervene, if even to help Conner to his feet, only for Dubbilex's voice to sound off in her head. "I would rather not see this place stained in your blood."
She hated it, but... he was right.
In the face of this display of monumental strength, Ski'Lira was completely and utterly helpless. She'd fought enemies with enhanced abilities, sure. Like the time she'd brazenly taken on Black Adam. But at least with him, she had assurance that the Nth metal of her mace was guaranteed to inflict damage on the demigod.
If her reflexes were a touch too slow, Match could rend her wings from her body, sever her spine, or end her life entirely with only a single hit.
The hesitation layered with guilt over said hesitating, making her gut churn and curdle, merely watching as Superboy was smacked around. She knew Superboy could handle himself in a fight, hell, she'd helped train him herself. But even knowing that did nothing to assuage the mounting panic that maybe it wasn't enough.
On one of the tremor-inducing impacts, several stalactites above started to shake loose.
And Hawkgirl had a chilling realization.
This wasn't some simple duel between titans in the safety of a confined space. This was a fight in a city, one with civilians in danger.
Her mindset immediately flipped like a switch from 'battle' to 'search and rescue'. Instead of becoming the focus of her attention, the fighting Kryptonians became a moving obstacle and source of threat keeping her from accomplishing her self-imposed duty that needed to be tracked.
First, she rushed to push a small pack of Genomporphs from the path of the descending stalactites she'd initially clocked. Another nearby was trapped under rubble, saved as she pushed the boulder pinning one of their limbs off them. Every tense second passed like that, digging at rock with her talons, herding groups to safer areas, and dodging falling pieces of the cavern.
As she was ushering a couple of the larger Genomorphs to guard the smaller ones, she watched as a set of scarlet eye lasers scored the ceiling. Attention drawn to the new danger, she was shocked to see Superboy flying.
Entirely unsure how to handle this new development, she darted over to a sizeable group of the smallest Genomorphs, flaring out her wings to offer them a feathery shield they all rushed to cower under.
Superboy and Match flew at each other, meeting blow for blow in the air.
As an expert in matters of flight, she could see how clumsy Superboy was with the newly unlocked aspect of his powerset, but he was adapting quickly. Match was far more sure with his movements, but there was still an edge of unfamiliarity with how his own body moved. Match darted in close, and Superboy went for a punch, expecting a hit. He did not expect to instead be lasered straight in the eyes.
Screaming out in pain, Superboy drifted back in the air, hands pressed tightly to his face. Match pressed the advantage he created, but Superboy managed to twist around at the last moment and get a grip on his opponent, throwing Match to the ground, replicating the move executed on him earlier.
Match went down, and Superboy followed.
Straddling his chest, Conner's fists pounded into Match's face over and over and over.
"Superboy, enough!" Ski'Lira went on alert as Guardian's voice echoed, the hero accompanied with a troop of armed soldiers... Mercy among them.
Well, any suspicions she had before about Luthor's level of involvement were certainly confirmed now.
"He's down." Guardian continued. "You won."
H
Some time later, Superboy, Guardian, the still-unnamed scientist, and Hawkgirl stood before Match's cryogenic chamber, where he was once more ensconced.
"It has to be this way." Guardian declared with solemnity.
H
WASHINGTON, DC
NOVEMBER 25TH, 2010
19:15 EST
Knowing full well that Mercy had seen her (alternate uniform or not, she was still instantly recognizable with the wings), Ski'Lira wasn't playing any pretenses now, riding in Sphere with Conner back to the park where Luthor was waiting. They had made only a brief stop, dropping Wolf off at the Hall of Justice to send him through the Zeta, and safely store her bike in the Hall's garage to be retrieved later. Not only did Conner want to keep his faithful hound away from Luthor, but the poor canine had really been through the wringer today and desperately needed to rest at home.
On the flight over, Superboy had spilled everything he'd learned during her absence. How his Kryptonian DNA was unstable and thus was mixed with human DNA to create a viable form, that Match was actually the elder creation, the box he'd received from Luthor with the Shields that had gifted him his flight, but made him angrier than he could ever remember, the extent of the billionaire's connections to Cadmus, everything.
He also fully expected her to be mad, literally saying as such when he'd finished his explanation.
He seemed far more uncomfortable with how understanding she had been of the situation.
When he'd prompted her about the reasoning for her unexpected reaction, she'd merely looked at him and said, "Falling to genetic impulse? I'd be a hypocrite to be upset with you." That had ended that argument fairly swiftly.
This time, Luthor was already waiting outside the limousine when they landed. Conner hopped out, but Ski'Lira stayed in her seat, knowing that this wasn't her conversation to have.
Also, the more physical distance she put between herself and Luthor the better, as she didn't know if she could stop herself from taking a swing.
"There was a tracker in the tin box you gave me." Superboy accused.
Any trace of Luthor's earlier cordiality had vanished, replaced with a cold, neutral expression. His true face. "Yes. I assume you discovered it with your x-ray vision?"
"You initiated the cloning projects?!"
"I wanted Superman to meet his match."
"And you used both of us to locate the missing Genomorphs?!"
Luthor's head tilted ever so slightly. "A good businessman has to keep track of his assets. But none of that is what really bothers you. Half your DNA is human. Haven't you wondered who the donor was? Or have you just been afraid to acknowledge the obvious. Face it, son. You have much more in common with me than Superman."
Ski'Lira's breathing stuttered and she forced herself to curl her fingers onto the door of Sphere, anything to keep her anchored and not intervene.
Luthor was...? This whole time? Unless he was lying, which was entirely possible. But why would he claim a lie so grand, especially one that could be proven false via a simple genetic test?
"That's a lie!" Superboy shouted.
Instead of defending his own claim, Luthor continued. "What has he given you? Nothing. Not even affection. And why? Because Big Blue sees the world in black and white. You were created by the bad guys, so there must be something wrong with you. But we both know life isn't that clear cut. The real world is full of greys. Weren't you determined to free Match at all costs? Yet wisely, you agreed to my suggestion to refreeze him for the greater good of all. And though you think me a villain..." Reaching out, he ripped the dead Shield patch from the skin of Superboy's arm. "You still accepted my Shields. We're more alike than you care to admit."
Turning back, Superboy held out the box he'd been given. "Take them back!"
Luthor held up a hand, shaking his head. "They're a gift. From a father, to his son."
Stalking forward, Superboy wrapped a hand around Luthor's immaculately knotted tie, his other fist clenched and ready to strike. "I won't need them for this."
Despite the clear threat to his person, Lex Luthor didn't so much as twitch." Red Sun."
Conner's entire body locked into place, face slack and expressionless, breathing evening out to a placid rhythm. It was as if he was beset by a sudden paralysis.
Flinging herself out of Sphere, Hawkgirl half-flew over, fully ready to tear Luthor into little pieces with her bare hands.
"Something wrong, little bird?" Luthor taunted as he calmly undid his tie, leaving it trapped in Connor's frozen grip.
"What did you do to him?!" She shrieked, with equal parts desperation and unbridled rage.
"Just a little insurance," he explained with a demure shrug. "Not to worry, it isn't permanent. He'll snap out of it in... oh... a few hours?"
Growl rumbling low in her throat, Ski'Lira moved towards the villain, only to hear a whirr and feel heat blooming at the base of her neck. A quick glance to the side confirmed that Mercy had finally made her presence known, blaster hand firmly planted where it would kill her the fastest.
"Now, let's remain civil, shall we?" Luthor was adjusting the sleeves of his jacket now, looking for all the world like he was preparing for a press conference, not threatening an extraterrestrial teenage girl. "Actually, while I have you here, I'd love to hear your opinion, as I know how much you Hawks tend towards objectivity. What do you think? Is he more like me? Or more like Superman?"
Ski'Lira's jaw worked, but she tamped down her urge to headbutt him, instead she channeled her mother and fell back on words as her weapons. "For the self-proclaimed smartest man on the planet, you're an idiot." Merchy's hand dug into skin, and she could feel the burn starting to develop there from the energy charging in the barrel. The lingering threat did nothing to deter her from speaking her mind. "He's nothing like either of you. He's perfect all on his own."
"Fascinating," Luthor deadpanned. "I can't say I ever expected one of your kind to imprint on him so strongly. I was under the mistaken impression you Hawks tended to isolate yourselves from those sorts of connections. No matter, he will come to see the truth himself, in time."
"What truth? That you're a snake?"
He laughed at her then, far from pleasantly. "Never you mind that now. Do give him my best when he wakes, will you?"
With the threat of Mercy literally a second away from blowing her spine into two pieces, she had no choice but to let Luthor leave.
She hated every moment, watching him climb into his annoying ostentatious vehicle as if he hadn't just entirely upset Conner's life. Mercy only released her once Luthor was safely ensconced inside, striding over to the driver's seat and taking him away.
Now she was left alone with Superboy, at a complete and utter loss for what to do. With only a rough timeline of his waking (if Luthor was telling the truth about that at least), and unable to activate Sphere, she did what little she could.
Physically picking Conner up, she carried him out from the middle of the road and safely onto the strip of grass closer to the river. Setting him down, she pulled up the comm channel access on the HUD of her bike helmet. She flitted through multiple contacts, but was wracked with indecision.
Any member of the League would bring about immediate, overwhelming action, seeing as they were likely still in the middle of that big meeting her parents had warned her about. But did she, did Conner, want that kind of response?
There was The Team of course, but... She ran into the same problem. Conner had gone to such lengths to conceal his self-imposed mission from M'Gann, who was the person he trusted the most.
At a complete and utter loss, she did what in the moment seemed the least unobtrusive, queuing up Superman's contact in case of a true emergency. Exhausted, both physically and emotionally, she practically tore her helmet from her head, content to be bare-faced for once. It's not like anyone would see her here, anyway.
H
The sun set, night fell, and stars were glittering above them by the time Superboy finally woke up.
"What...?" Glancing around wildly, the panic in his eyes eased slightly when Ski'Lira scrambled to stand in front of him.
"Some kind of code phrase, I don't know what exactly." She rushed to explain, watching as he confusedly dropped the tie he'd been holding. The fact that she was currently completely bare-faced in a public place probably wasn't helping to alleviate that confusion. "Luthor... Luthor told me you'd snap out of it in a few hours."
He looked at her with pure incredulity. "... You said he always lies."
"I..." Ski'Lira's wings drooped. "I didn't know what else to do. Do you know how much trouble you'd get in for just talking to Luthor, let alone twice?! I didn't want..." Biting at her lip, she reigned in her tone, not wanting him to think she was lecturing him.
"I kept track of your vitals, they were steady the whole time." She explained, now with a slightly more level head. "So I just... waited. And hoped, I guessed."
"You hoped." He deadpanned. "You."
Well aware of how out of character that was, hoping for a positive outcome rather than guaranteeing it via fact-driven action, she reluctantly nodded. "Okay, yes, if something had gone wrong, I had Superman's comm link channel open the entire time just in case-" At his scathing look, she set her jaw. "I get it, you have every right not to trust him, but I do. If you were... If you were hurt, he'd have the fastest response time and the greatest chance of knowing how to... help."
Still, Conner remained silent.
But in the end, he didn't seem to think too harshly of her choices, based on the way he sighed and moved to sit down on the artificial riverbank setting above the water.
Elbows perched on his knees, he put his face in his hands, scrubbing harshly. After waiting a beat, Ski'Lira cautiously followed his lead, crossing her legs underneath her instead of letting them dangle over the river like Conner was. "Today's been..." Conner began haltingly. "I thought I was the only one they... And Luthor..."
A chilled breeze hit them, on instinct she stretched her wing out and around him to ward it away. When the breeze abated, she left it there, more as a show of comfort rather than offering any warmth. "I know. I'm sorry."
"... Did we miss Thanksgiving?"
Ski'Lira winced. "Well... Yeah. I called M'Gann not long after you... You know. She was a little upset, but... I told her all the food smells were unexpectedly overwhelming to us both, that we stepped out and took Wolf to the park, but I got a call about trouble in St. Roch and asked you two to help. I'm about ninety five percent sure she knew I was lying, but she didn't call me out on it. Wally apparently ended up back at the Cave at some point, along with Artemis. Captain Marvel, Black Canary, and Green Arrow all swung by too. M'Gann also admitted they ended up making too much, and there's enough leftovers to last at least the next week. Two days if Wally intervenes."
"At least I didn't completely ruin everything," whether he realized as such or not, he was now leaning against her, their shoulders pressed tightly together. "I'm sorry I made you lie for me."
"It felt like the least I could do, ka'zera. Considering how little help I was with... everything else." Ski'Lira let out a long sigh. "I feel as if I made nothing but bad decisions today, no matter my intentions. I should have contacted the League the second I saw what was going down at Cadmus, but..." Honestly, if she let herself, she would probably start crying. "I didn't want to risk what little good will I've managed to regain with you."
Her admission was met with nothing at first, then a quiet. "... Ka'zera." His repetition of the Thanagarian phrase was perfect, pronunciation uncannily flawless as always. "You've been calling me that practically since we first met."
She hummed a little.
"During the... simulation, I asked you what it meant. And you said if we met again, you'd..."
Still having no recollection of that tumultuous day, she couldn't confirm for sure the validity of his claim, but it definitely sounded like something she'd say. "It's Thanagarian, clearly. Not an uncommon nickname."
"... And?" He prompted, when she didn't rush to elaborate further.
Ski'Lira had to think for a second, as translating between the two languages was a challenge she had to often overcome. "Ka means 'warrior', zera is a word for which there is no Terran equivalent. The closest literal approximation would be 'born of science'. More accurately zera is an identifier term used for a Thanagarian born through artificial means."
Blue eyes flitted to her, filled with dismay and hurt. "You mean clone?'
"No," the vehemence in her tone cowed his ire before it could take root and fester. "On Thanagar, when bonded partners either have difficulty conceiving, or if they are biologically incompatible and are incapable of doing so through natural means, or even if one wishes to have a child without additional caregivers, children are created through extracted genetic material. These children are grown artificially under careful supervision through the fetal stage, then given to their parents once they have fully developed into infants."
"... I don't see how that's any different."
"Because you're viewing it from a Terran perspective." She reminded him. "The Thangarian language does not possess a word for 'clone'. There is no such thing as a being identical to their predecessor."
"I was literally made to be identical to Superman." Conner was thoroughly resigned by now. "And apparently all that's different are the parts that came from Lex Luthor."
She tightened her wing around him. "Your outward appearances may be similar, but you are far from the same person. You're quieter, more soft-spoken. You have issues with your temper, but you're learning healthy ways to channel it. You don't understand humanity the way he does, but your capacity for curiosity is astounding. You are not Superman, Conner. And you never will be."
"But I'm supposed to-"
"Am I supposed to return to Thanagar and become one of the Wingmen simply because my father was?" She interrupted, perhaps a little harshly based on the way he winced at her rise in volume. "Shall I become an expert in espionage like my mother? Is Robin fated to be the next Batman, no matter his views on the matter? One day when he inherits the title, will Wally West be the exact same Flash as those before him?"
"... No, but-"
"You are your own, just as we are our own. That 'S' on your chest is no definition of character, but a symbol of choice."
"... Choice."
Conner went quiet again, but she was fully content to let him stew on that thought. This was just a drop in the bucket amongst all the other revelations he'd had today, but he still needed to process it.
Some minutes later, she dared to speak only once she'd felt the lingering tension leech from Conner's body, sharing a thought that had been plaguing her since the start of this conversation. "Perhaps my use of ka'zera has overstayed its welcome. It feels... too impersonal. I think... Dro'Thiri might be more acceptable, considering the circumstances."
A wan smile found its way onto the Kryptonian's face. "Okay, what does that mean?"
Shooting him a mischievous grin, Ski'Lira jumped up to her feet. "Ask me again another time. So, do you think you're ready to go?"
"Back to the Cave?"
"If you want. We could go anywhere, really. Within reason, of course."
Thoroughly thrown by the offer, he just sort of blinked at her from where he was still sitting on the ground. "... What?"
Rolling her eyes, she grabbed his wrist and physically hauled him up to his feet, scooping up her discarded helmet with her other hand. "We could go to the Cave, or we could go to my house, if you're worried about a possible interrogation."
"I..." Conner's eyes darted about as he mulled over the choice. "Could we...""
H
ST. ROCH, LOUISIANA
NOVEMBER 25TH, 2010
21:37 EST
When they stepped into the Hol Household, Ski'Lira tossed her helmet onto a shelf and hung her tattered jacket up on a hook. It remained to be seen whether the garment could be salvaged, as the damage was significant. Bits of glass embedded in the fabric threatened to drop onto the hardwood floor, but thankfully stayed, saving her a mess to clean.
Conner ambled after her, politely toeing off his boots and setting them by her own. This time, he exhibited none of the caution he'd displayed during his first visit.
"You can shower if you want," Ski'Lira suggested. "I can grab some of my dad's clothes for you to borrow."
His brow furrowed, "Uh... I'm fine."
"Alright, allow me to rephrase. You reek of the weird flesh tunnels and it's gross."
Giving the collar of his shirt an experimental sniff, Conner's face screwed up in distaste. "Okay, yeah, you're right. Uh... Hey, where are your parents anyway?"
"Big League meeting, then patrol after." She answered as she started up the staircase. "They won't be home for a while."
After she'd scrounged up some pajamas of her dad's and ushered her friend into one of the bathrooms with a clean towel, only then did she allow herself to slump.
Today had been... bad?
Tired to her bones, she trudged to her own bedroom, retrieving a change of clothes of her own and glanced in her vanity mirror. Scarlet smudged across her skin along with the dark blue and sickening purple of recently formed bruising made visible evidence of today's steady descent into rough territory.
Everything that had happened with Cadmus and Luthor, she couldn't help but dwell on the thought of how catastrophically terrible things could have gone. In an attempt to maintain his secret, Luthor could easily have absconded with the two away to some secure location, either to be interred where neither could be found again, or eliminated entirely to clean up the mess.
No one had known where they'd swanned off to. It would have been hours before anyone even had the thought that something might be amiss.
Turning, she noticed that there was glittering between her feathers. Glass. Remnants from her impromptu trip through the glass tubes at Match's hands.
Seemed that a more... nuclear option was needed to get clean.
Not even bothering to strip, she merely popped open the window of her room and flew out across the cliff, and promptly dive bombed into the ocean.
Yet, her thoughts did not stop, not yet.
She didn't trust Guardian in the least. Everything he did and said, it all just compounded into a fuzzy image of something to distrust. Conner hadn't displayed any sign of misgivings, as he'd spoken only vaguely about the interaction he'd had with the man before her arrival on the scene. 'We talked a little and he let me into the sublevels.' Was all he had to say.
The inability to point to solid evidence and say, 'Here, this is exactly why this man should be apprehended' was infuriating. But with the confirmation that Luthor's grubby fingers were all over Cadmus' operations... she had a pretty strong inkling about the root of the issue.
Sluicing through frigid sea water did more to scrub away today's trials and tribulations than a shower could.
A few minutes later, she made her way to shallow water, stomping up onto the beach, now dripping wet. Shaking the excess water from her feathers (and one last check to guarantee they were actually rid of the sharp debris), she headed back to the house.
By the time she'd showered the saltwater off, dried herself, and changed into the softest hoodie and sweatpants she owned, Conner was waiting for her in the living room.
Urging him to sit, she made her way into the kitchen, where she proceeded to utterly clean out the snack cabinet, ferrying colorful packages of artificially flavored abominations and dumping them onto the coffee table.
"Not much in the way of a Thanksgiving feast, but... that's all human holiday stuff anyway." Ski'Lira paused as she realized something she'd missed. "I... Feel like I should have asked if you were upset about missing the dinner. You only asked about M'Gann...'
Conner shrugged.
Helpful.
Taking that as indifference at best, she stopped worrying. "At the very least you won't have to worry about missing the food part." Fishing out her phone, she showed him the picture of the leftover-laden fridge M'Gann texted her earlier.
"... Joy." Conner deadpanned.
Careful not to crush her wings behind her, Ski'Lira fully collapsed onto the couch next to Conner. Remote in hand, she started the old ritual of channel flipping. Knowing that Conner had little to no preferences when it came to television (except for his uncanny fascination with static), she found a Mythbusters marathon and made the executive decision to settle on that.
H
Some time later, Ski'Lira was startled awake as the front door swung open, banging against the wall just a little too hard.
Conner, who was somehow still deeply asleep despite his hearing vastly outpacing hers, was promptly smacked in the face by a solid wall of feathers. Snapping awake, Conner jerked back so hard that the entire couch tilted entirely backwards and fell flat on the floor.
Couch now fully on its back like an unfortunate turtle, blankets, bags of opened snacks, and pillows were mixed up in a tangled pile. Ski'Lira was making indignant squawking noises, as in the process the Kryptonian's elbow had found its way into the crook between her back and wing, fully pinning the appendage.
The two present adults did absolutely nothing, neither rushing to help, evidenced by the mad cackling of Shayera and the long-suffering sigh of Katar.
"Seems you two had fun," Shayera's hands were on her hips as she looked down at them, lips twitching with amusement. Her husband opted to ignore the situation entirely, already heading upstairs, metal boots echoing on every wooden step. "But I thought you were spending Thanksgiving with your team?"
Finally untangling herself, Ski'Lira rolled out of the way so Conner could right the couch with one hand, leaving her to explain. "We had a... last minute change of plan."
"... Right. Well, if this is all you've consumed in the last twelve hours..." Shayera prodded at an empty Oreo package with the toe of her boot. "Then I suppose I can be convinced to make you breakfast, seeing as we have a guest. It's nice to see you again, Conner."
At the suggestion and greeting, he looked at her with polite apprehension. "Good... morning? You uh, don't need to cook if you don't-"
"I absolutely do," Shayera interrupted him sternly. "At the very least so we can get some real food in you, after tearing through all this garbage. I'm thinking omelets. Just give me a few minutes to change and I'll get started."
It was a given that Shayera Hol was an expert in breakfast preparation by now, especially when it came to preparing large portions of properly balanced meals meant for non-Terrestrial metabolisms. The sheer amount of food generated in a relatively short time would put some diners to shame. When he'd eventually reemerged with brunette hair still damp, Katar easily slipped into the role of sous chef, slicing up green peppers and onions.
Eventually, massive omelets cooked, bread toasted, and freshly squeezed orange juice doled out, the Hawks (and guest) settled down for a proper morning meal at the kitchen table.
As it often did, most of it passed in silence, as aching stomachs made food a priority. But about halfway through, when the pace of eating had slowed, Shayera broke the comfortable quiet.
"So, are you going to tell us why you skipped out on your team last night?" She asked casually. "If there's any inter-Team issues you'd like to talk about..."
"Nothing like that," Ski'Lira rushed to explain for them both, opting for the same lie she'd told M'Gann. "It was the food smells. Too many different dishes, and some of them were strong. Neither of us were used to that, so we went out."
"Mhmm," Shayera hummed. "A pretty good cover story, but I'd prefer to hear the truth."
Conner was so surprised, he promptly broke the fork he was holding. Without missing a beat, Katar got up and retrieved a replacement from the kitchen, taking the broken utensil from the teen and tossing it in the recycling bin.
"... What gave it away?" Ski'Lira grumbled at having been caught so quickly.
"Several things," Shayera held up a hand and started to tick off points on her fingers. "One, your excuse was flimsy. Two, the only other time you've brought Conner to St. Roch was when he was upset. Three, the last four times you cleaned out the junk food cabinet like that was when you or Roy had a bad patrol. Four, I found blood splatters on the floor of the bathroom and a few shards of high-density glass on the floor outside your bedroom. And five, the Kryptonian has what is very clearly a bruise." For the last point, she tapped the side of her neck.
Conner's hand flew to the green tinged patch of skin, prodding at the flesh and wincing, earning him a sharp, "Stop that," from Katar for doing so.
"How do you know we weren't sparring?" Ski'Lira argued.
"Because if you had, you'd be telling us about it in great detail. And yet... not a word. If you've been idle while here, it means that something happened before you came home. Something you didn't want us, or your Team, knowing about."
She really should have known that getting anything past her mother's perceptive gaze was nigh impossible. Her training was too ingrained to ever turn it off.
Racking her brain, Ski'Lira was trying to formulate any possible, plausible explanation that wouldn't immediately get them into trouble. She'd even take a tiny amount of trouble if she had to.
But she was coming up blank.
Based on the wild-eyed stare she was getting from Conner, he was depending on her to cover up for the escapade.
But a part of her, an increasingly loud part, was starting to wonder... what if they didn't?
"... Conner-" She began slowly.
"No," he immediately denied, somehow already predicting her proposal.
"You don't even-"
"I do, the answer is no."
"But-"
Planting his hands flat on the table, dishes were sent rattling from the impact. "What happened to 'The League can never know'?!"
"They're not the League, they're my parents! And Thanagarians are the best at keeping secrets!"
"That doesn't mean that they can be trusted. After everything you said, I thought you would-"
"That is enough." Katar's cold tone sliced through the argument before it could escalate into fully blown yelling. "One of you explain. Now."
The two teens froze, fully aware that some facts had inadvertently been allowed to slip during their argument.
"Conner," Ski'Lira tried again. "Just... give it a chance, okay? And... And even if they disapprove, they won't tell the League if we ask them to."
"She's right," Shayera confirmed, idly running a finger along the rim of her empty glass. "I consider keeping secrets from The Bat a lucrative and fulfilling hobby."
The sheer nonchalance with which Shayera declared her unspoken war with The Batman Himself, purely for the fun of it, did more to convince Conner than any argument Ski'Lira had put forward so far.
Visibly battling with himself, Conner held his tongue, until finally, "We... went back to Cadmus."
The story emerged in bits and pieces, mostly from the Kryptonian. Ski'Lira only hopped in to fill in the few events that he was either absent from or unconscious during.
Eventually, their tale wound down, ending with them opting to return here to St. Roch after the day's ordeal. Now, all they could do was wait for whatever judgment would be laid down upon them.
Shayera and Katar's faces hadn't shifted from a dead neutral expression the entire time, giving the two kids their full and undivided attention. Only now did they share a long, lingering look.
To Ski'Lira's surprise, it was her father who spoke first. "Alright."
... That... That was it? Alright?
"That's it?" Conner echoed her own internal thought. "But... I'm Lex Luthor's son!"
Snorting, Shayera's face twisted into a scowl. "As if. That cockroach is no father."
"He's responsible for half my DNA!"
"A genetic donor and a father are two very different things." Katar snapped. "Fathers nurture and protect their children. The only thing Luthor knows how to do is manipulate and control for his own selfish means."
"Besides, it's apparent you you take after in the looks department." Reaching over, Shayera ruffled Conner's unruly hair. "Wouldn't be able to do that with a true child of Lex Luthor. He'd probably force you to shave your head in solidarity, if you'd grown any hair at all."
A surprised laugh erupted from Conner, but it was hastily stifled. "I... I don't understand why you're so... Okay with all of this?"
"Stop thinking so hard, Dro'Thiri." Ski'Lira leaned over, nudging his shoulder with her own. "This is just the way they are. It's best to just accept it."
"Accept what?"
"That we care about you," Shayera prompted. "And this is one of the ways that we're expressing that care. Our fledgling's practically adopted you now, we had no choice but to follow suit."
"I..."
"And thank you," continuing, Shayera had a warm smile on her face. "For trusting us with your secrets. As Ski'Lira promised, they don't go any further than us, not without your permission."
"And," crossing his arms, Katar took over. "If Luthor tries to schedule another meeting with you, let us know."
The 'so we can beat him to a bloody pulp on your behalf' was implied by the vicious tilt of Katar's smile. It was a nice sentiment.
The Hol patriarch scooted back in his chair, standing and stretching out his wings and walking out of the room. "Alright, you two kids outside."
"For... what?" Conner inquired with caution.
"About time you two got a lesson on how to fight against a Kryptonian. Don't want you two getting caught off guard again."
Needing no more encouragement to follow the request, Ski'Lira let out a loud whoop, fully chugging the lukewarm remains of her orange juice and practically sprinting after her father. As she whipped around the corner, she caught a glimpse of Shayera passing by the still seated Conner, dropping a chaste kiss to the top of his head as she started scooping up dishes.
She guessed it was official now, he really was her Dro'Thiri.
Her found brother.
I can't help it, I'm a sucker for found family. The conversation between Conner and Ski'Lira at the river was planned shortly after the first couple of chapters were posted (with some tweaks here and there along the line as the story unfolded). I do love a good payoff.
Apologies again for the long wait. As long as I don't get sick again, expect a return to the month-ish gap between chapters schedule that I've been (trying and failing) to stick to. I've also got two oneshots almost completed, so look out for those.
Be safe and treat yourselves kindly.