Mount Justice had never been J'onn's favorite place. Maybe it was the thick walls or the many subterranean access halls but it reminded him far too much of Mars for his comfort. He had been glad when operations had switched to the Hall of Justice then the Watchtower but as he strode through the now, mostly empty, cave, he felt a sad pang hit his hearts. With the team disbanded so too was the soul of the cave.
He had not known he would miss their eager attitudes to do good in the world, or their sometimes-mischievous antics but he found himself wishing Wally would come racing around the corner with a bowlful of snacks or that M'gann would come to great him with a hug.
But, like everything, he supposed, they had had to move on both for the sake of their safety and because the young team was not quite so young anymore. Most of them were adults like M'gann, Conner, and Kaldur, and the others were verging on it. He doubted greatly that when the team eventually banded together again it would be the same as when they had left.
Still, he sighed aloud as he entered Mission Central, that was not the focus of his mission. Missing the young team of heroes would come later, now came the investigation.
"Greetings J'onn. I am glad that you have finally arrived. Your company is most welcome, but I did not expect you for two more days," Red Tornado said as he stood at the center of Mission Central. His legs had disappeared into two slots at the center of the room and several thick, banded metal tubes were inserted into his back and the base of his skull as he performed the slow process of dismantling and rebuilding Mount Justice's cyber security from scratch.
"It is good to see you as well, Red Tornado, and the hearings at the U.N came to a close quicker than Icon anticipated." J'onn explained.
"I am pleased to hear those unpleasantries are over. It is no matter though, had you come the day you contacted me or several weeks from now I would still be as you see me." Red Tornado turned his head ever so slightly to look at J'onn through the periphery of his dark eye-holes. "You were more than a little vague about your reason for coming. Historical trends suggest this is not a social call."
J'onn couldn't help but chuckle. "Your historical trends are accurate. I wish I was here simply as a friend, but I needed to access the cave before it can be purged. I am glad that you waited for my arrival." It had taken a few weeks to get down to the cave. The days at U.N headquarters had been intense with many countries scrutinizing the League's response on the matter but at the end of the day the Justice League's statement that Red Tornado had flown to Bialya to investigate the restructure of a fellow android had been taken at face value. It was bordering on truth but just barely and since the foremost experts in androids were either dead or so aged as to be on hospice no one could present a clear case against why the android had done what he'd done.
Many had called for Red Tornado to stand before the U.N but as the situation presented itself, Red Tornado had become suddenly unavailable, overseeing a massive operation for the League, which was fully true, it would be a gigantic undertaking to rebuild the cave's security from scratch.
"I fully understand. I am glad someone did come eventually to perhaps peruse the things that have been left behind. There are many keepsakes here such as Kid Flash's trophy shelf and the pictures on the walls. These things were… important to the team."
"Your empathy is growing, Red Tornado," J'onn said approvingly. "But no, I did not necessarily come for trinkets, merely to have a look around both the hall itself and its security cameras. I'd like to start with the security footage."
"Certainly. I will be keeping backups of all footage and data for Watchtower records."
J'onn took a seat in front of the computer and keyed in the code for the cave's security feeds. While most security footage was kept for about a month and then deleted all of the Watchtower's and subsequent other active hero hideouts kept the records indefinitely.
The entire timeline of the cave's activity was at the touch of his fingers but where to start? The beginning was typically a good place but how could he ever hope to parse through two years of security footage in a timely manner?
"Are you seeking something specific?" Red Tornado asked.
"I'm… not sure." He looked over his shoulder. "Tell me, did you ever notice anything… strange happening here?"
"Given the circumstances of the cave's revival two years ago I cannot say that it ever fell under the parameters of normalcy," said Red Tornado. "Please narrow your query."
J'onn chuckled at that. "Alright, please search the cave's records for any instances of video tampering."
Red Tornado remained silent for a moment, almost ponderous. "Is this what the children call a prank?"
"No, I'm very serious."
"I see. You believe that I am ineffectual at maintaining security then?" If androids could sound hurt Red Tornado was as close as one had ever come.
J'onn sighed inwardly. "No, none of that, just… humor me will you?"
Red Tornado's eyes glowed crimson. "Engaging in humoring. But I do not know what you expect to gain. My systems were fully integrated into the cave. I have the premier security protocols on–
He stopped short, catching J'onn's attention.
A security recording suddenly opened up on the Mission Central's monitors. It showed an empty hall, well, a nearly empty hall, save for a small moth continually throwing itself against an overhead light. Of course, that was what moths did, but the moth spiraled up, hit the light covering and fluttered down, over and over and over.
In the same exact sequence.
J'onn knew that was what had given Red Tornado pause. To anyone casually perusing the video they probably wouldn't give the moth a second glance but since they were more deeply looking for tampering it was impossible to go without notice. "What would be the odds of that?" J'onn pondered aloud.
"It has the same trajectory for over three hours. There is less than a one percent chance a single moth could continue in the exact same pattern in the exact same wing beats per minute for so long." The red glow in Tornados eyes intensified. "J'onn, I believe I have been… what is the saying? Been had?"
"Someone seamlessly slipped in a video loop through your systems. It would take a master hacker to perform such a feat." He tapped a key, pausing the video. "Can you gain access to the original footage, scrub the loop away to reveal what is beneath?"
"I certainly will try."
There came a hum as the servos inside Red Tornado overclocked. The image on the screen fizzed and in place of it was the same hall, this time with Conner and M'gann. Conner was walking with a large wooden crate in his arms and M'gann was walking in the opposite direction. As M'gann started to pass, Conner intercepted her, carrying the weight of the crate with one hand as he tugged her arm and spun her around. He let the crate fall with a clatter and wrapped his arms around M'gann's waist while she looped her arms around his neck. Conner idly leaned against the wall and the two of them were kissing with an old familiarity. It was certainly not their first time in the forgotten access hall making out.
"This is completely unacceptable," Red Tornado said in his self-same robotic voice. "That is neither the time nor proper position to instruct Miss Martian in the delicate details of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. How will he administer chest compressions if she is standing up?"
J'onn almost thought Red Tornado was making a joke, but as soon as the thought struck him he dashed it away. Red Tornado did not know how to joke. His computational android brain had not readily picked up such attributes.
Which made it all the more suspicious now why Red Tornado had been chosen to watch over the team. Of course it had all made sense at the time. Red Tornado did not live a typical life. He didn't have a home to go to or a family besides for the Justice League. He lived on the Watchtower. He didn't eat, he didn't sleep, unless one called recharging sleeping, and picking up was easy for him so it had seemed like the perfect choice. And yet, though Red Tornado was an excellent teammate, and the most common-sense choice for the job, he was still an android, void of many sentient tendencies and emotions and typically oblivious to the nuances of flesh-made beings.
"Red Tornado, remind me again, my friend, why did you volunteer to act as den mother to the cave?"
"Batman advised me that I would be a suitable candidate," Red Tornado replied automatically. "I have often wondered about life away from the Watchtower. This duty allowed me some room to… what is the phrase? Dip my toes in the water? I have performed this duty admirably, do you not think so J'onn J'onzz?"
The next recording finally appeared and when J'onn opened it he saw Black Canary and Conner sparring. The fighting ended with Black Canary delivering a masterful sweep to Superboy's legs. She helped him get up then she wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a kiss. A split second later the image of Black Canary rippled away and M'gann was in her place, giggling.
"What a convincing Halloween outfit by Miss Martian," Red Tornado commented innocently. "But why do they persist in practicing mouth-to-mouth standing up? Have I been as remiss in my first aide classes as I have with my security?"
J'onn rubbed his temples and took a deep breath as he flicked to another camera recording in the works of being scrubbed clean from its loop. It was going to be a long night.
0000
Forgiveness had never been one of La'gann's strong suits. While he was both an admirable hero and conducted himself courageously one thing he could not tolerate or forgive were slights and defeats.
Yet, in recent weeks, he had been dealt both.
He kept it buried deep but it scalded him on the inside. They had been sent packing with their tails between their legs in Bialya and M'gann had lied to him.
He had never suspected her to be the looming White Martian creature and though he was plenty used to strange creatures on the ocean floor the fact that she hadn't even hinted at what she truly was burned him even more. It had been a lie of omission.
Was that why Conner hadn't made a fuss when he told him his intentions to ask M'gann on a date? Had that land-walking jerk known what M'gann really was?
La'gann angrily punched a fist into an open hand. That was probably exactly what happened. He had been too sure of himself that night in Bialya anyway. No one else had known M'gann was that creature, so how did he?
"Are you okay...?"a sweet voice asked behind La'gann leeching away his attention.
He spun around to chastise the speaker for sneaking up on him, but swimming before was the prettiest girl he had ever seen. She had white hair and sun-kissed skin and she smiled shyly at him. "Yeah," he lied. "I'm fine." He eyed her up and down. "And so are you."
She giggled at his compliment. "My aren't you a charmer. You must be the Lagoon Boy I've heard so much about," she said.
"The one and only…." La'gann said smitten.
The young woman giggled. "Good. I'm Dolphin. I just enrolled in the academy this afternoon."
She reached out her hand and La'gann took it. He was so enraptured by her did didn't notice the faintest sheen of red glint pass her eyes.
0000
"And you truly do not know where your former team members fled?" Vandal asked as he stood before Kaldur.
Black Menace knelt before the ageless Vandal Savage but he looked up at him sternly, no fear or deceit. "No. As I told my father, I left due to the termination of the team. Though we have spent these years as your enemies it has not escaped my notice that no matter how hard we fought your people continued to see results and move towards your ends. The League and my former team only treat the wounds that plague this world, not the causes. I see now that this world is much like my team was, chaotic, emotional, and ungrounded. It needs leadership and control in order to rise to its full greatness."
"Yet you are an Atlantean," Vandal mused. "The surface world does not much concern the ocean-walkers."
"What the land-walkers do affect the world below, especially with the Justice League's puppet Aquaman ruling them." Kaldur's eyes flashed angrily. "A strong king would not have allowed the Bialyans to keep the Amazo parts. He would have neutralized the threat and made certain they did not rise again."
"Did I not say he was my own flesh and blood, this young man?" Black Manta strode forward, standing beside his kneeling son. "I know he was once on their side but he has seen the Light. I vouch for him. I place my reputation on the line for him."
Vandal's gaze did not leave Kaldur. "They are but words, Black Manta, and ones we ourselves speak often enough."
"Test me then," Kaldur challenged. "You have telepaths in your employ."
Vandal smirked faintly and lifted an arm, beckoning to the left side of the room. A door opened and out walked Psymon, a fiendish grin on his pale white face. "We intend to do just that."
Manta unsheathed the sword on his back, the eye-beams of his helm glowing dangerously. "Often you and my son came to blows while he was on the team of heroes, Psymon. I know well the grudges that can be harbored from that, but I warn you now, harm him more than necessary and you will not live long enough to regret it."
The image paused on Black Manta with his sword still raised at Psymon.
Lex Luthor leaned back in his seat and swirled his glass of scotch thoughtfully. He spun slightly to the right in his chair and stared at Vandal who relaxed in much the same pose in another high-backed chair, an archaic goblet of wine in his hand. "Did the mind-reading reveal anything interesting?" Luthor asked casually.
"Only that Black Menace spoke the truth," Vandal revealed. "Psymon was understandably hesitant after Black Manta's threat but he performed his duty. The young man does not know where the team scattered nor how long they will be scattered. Psymon too sensed his frustrations with the League."
Lex took a sip of his scotch, savoring the flavor. "It all seems a little too… convenient, doesn't it?"
"Many things can change in a short span of time," countered Vandal. "Yet I am predisposed to agree with you."
"I thought you might." Luthor shrugged. "So I took the liberty of sending some… insurance down to Atlantis."
Vandal's brows furrowed disapprovingly. "We did not discuss this."
"We didn't have time," countered Lex. "Nor do I think it would have been conducive to our overall plans or our newest junior member. We had to trade dance partners with the League. If disillusioned Kaldur betrays us, then so our Perfection will betray them. No one will think to look for her in Atlantis. She will be under the king's very nose until we have need of her. She isn't like those other dullards we have in our employ, but a surgical tool. We will draw her out when necessary and keep her as a knife at our enemies back all at the same time." He lifted his scotch glass in a toast. "Wherever they may be."
0000
Two years on Earth had taught M'gann she wasn't the best of cooks, but compared to the others of the team she was damn near a world-class chef. No one else in the cave had ever truly attempted mastering the art of cooking, making her the de facto chef of the cave and though she wasn't all that good, she had garnered some ability in the kitchen but it was mostly restricted to eggs, casseroles, and the occasional baked good. She had come to love earth food and though she was an alien with superhuman abilities she still had to eat.
M'gann stomach growled like grumpy Wolf as she pulled out a carton of eggs from the fridge. She carefully transferred them in her bi-fingered grip to the counter and fished out a skillet from pile of unused kitchenware stuffed in a cupboard.
Weeks ago before the fight with Perfection she wouldn't have been so careful with every action. At full strength she would mentally send pans and cartons and foodstuffs in any direction she willed, barely touching the stove or bowls at all. Now she needed to handle everything one at a time with hands barely suitable for the task.
She twisted the knob on the stove and set the pan to heating then flicked open the carton of eggs. She oh so carefully closed her fingers around one of the eggs and –
Crack!
Rich yellow egg yolk ran through M'gann's chalk-white fingers, shell fragments sliming between her digits.
M'gann bit back a keen of dismay and pushed the carton away. She closed her eyes and hung her head in anger. What was the use! Why try? She would have been better off just pulling out a hunk of hamburger meat from the fridge and eating it raw! That would really make her the monster, wouldn't it, a handful of gruesome meat, blood dripping between her sharp teeth.
Cooking in the cave had been easy in her Megan form. Everything was made for human hands. As she was now it was a challenge to even cook a few eggs.
M'gann swallowed down her emotion but it didn't fill her. It never would. What was another day going hungry anyway?
As the unhappy thought skittered through her mind she heard another crack of an egg.
M'gann snapped open her eyes, wondering if she had misplaced her hand, wondering if she had destroyed all the eggs, but they were still where they left them, well, not all of them. Two more were missing. One had already been cracked and Conner was just cracking the other into the bowl.
He was only wearing a pair of pale blue boxers, his hair mussed from sleeping. He reached for another egg as if it were the most normal thing in the world then froze mid-way and looked up at her. "Two or three?"
M'gann had seen him in swim trunks before but somehow seeing him in boxers was different. She blinked slowly at him, barely registering what he said.
"M'gann?"
"Huh?"
"Two or three eggs?"
"Uh t-two is fine," she stammered mentally as her brain jumpstarted again. She was so surprised in seeing him half-naked she couldn't even find the means to object to his aid.
He began to whisk the eggs with a fork. "Two for me and two for you, then. I bought some mushrooms too. They're in the back of the fridge."
"You hate mushrooms," she replied without thinking.
He shrugged. "You like 'em."
M'gann's hearts warmed. She did have a fondness for Earth mushrooms, a food very close to one of her favorites from Mars.
Wordlessly, she dived back into the fridge and pulled out the box of mushrooms. She took out two large capped mushrooms and as she did so Conner passed her a knife.
M'gann's lozenge-shaped eyes looked at the knife warily. She had been comfortable wielding a cooking knife before. Now she wasn't so sure.
"Just take it slow. You can do it."
All her saddened senses told her to abandon the knife and the kitchen and go back up to her room, but his words coaxed out the spirit of pursuit in her, made her want to try. Slowly she took the knife from him and awkwardly began to cut. She could apply as much pressure on the knife as she wanted, didn't need to balance out her delicacy as with the eggs and soon she was chopping away.
"How about some spinach?" Conner asked, pushing the leafy greens her way.
"Is this an omelet now?"
"Might as well be," he replied, grabbing a few more eggs and cracking them into the bowl. "Though I think we both know the moment I try to flip it we're actually having scrambled eggs."
Humor filled M'gann's mental link and a moment later she realized she was laughing through their link.
Cheered some, she reached back into the fridge to collect everything they needed in the heroic attempt of omelet making.
The rest of the ingredients, cheese, eggs, tomatoes, and spices were soon added to the mix. Conner dumped the entire thing into the screeching hot pan, for which M'gann was glad, and began to cook. She grabbed two bowls from a cupboard and in a few minutes a failed omelet that had prophetically turned into scrambled eggs warmed the bowls in their hands.
M'gann turned to retreat to her room with the eggs, but Conner touched her shoulder, stopping her cold. She turned back to look at him and he nudged his head to the backdoor of the house.
The sun had gone down an hour ago, but still M'gann trembled at the notion. She hadn't been out of the house since they'd arrived and though she missed the sunshine and the breeze and the smell of the ocean she didn't know if she could do it.
"Just to the steps," Conner said gently. "If we even see a moth it's back inside."
M'gann gulp and though she feared it she hesitantly followed him outside.
The back of the home actually faced the ocean and was spacious as a porch wrapped around the entire Victorian home. Fall had come and the wind blew chill in the New England night. A crescent moon hung over the water and the brisk, salt-filled air invigorated M'gann and stirred her hunger to new heights.
The two of them sat on the old, worn steps, and as splintery as they were it felt like heaven to be outside again. Her eyes followed the steps leading down to the sandy incline, past the tilted gated and down to the seashore. Wolf was walking up and down the length of shore set before them, sniffing at whatever critters were out and about.
"Here," Conner's voice brought her out of her mental wanderings and she looked down to see him offering her a fork.
She grabbed it but even as she did so she began to struggle. The fork was too small for her large, long fingers and she struggled to wield it. She finally got a portion of steaming eggs on it and lifted it clumsily to her mouth. She took a bite and for a moment thought she had succeeded in what should have been an easy task, then she pulled the fork away and only the handle came back.
M'gann felt Conner's amusement radiate over their mental link. She spat out the three metal tines and glared at him sullenly. "It's not funny."
"It's a little funny," he contradicted. "We both broke our fair share of utensils back in the cave, remember?" He looked down, hiding his smile and placed his fork to the side, instead scooping out bits of fluffy egg with his hands.
After a moment, M'gann did the same.
"This is delicious," she admitted, chewing hungrily. "When did you learn to cook?"
He grinned down at his bowl. "Must've picked up a thing or two from all those times you dragged me into the kitchen." For a moment he looked thoughtful as if picking at the strands of a memory. "Kind of reminds me of that time when I was helping you chop vegetables and got distracted, ending up cutting through the cutting board and bending the knife out of shape."
M'gann couldn't help but giggle at the memory. "Then Robin told you to try and origami it into a swan and you crumpled it up into a metal ball."
"And after we all left the kitchen you fished it out the trash, cleaned it up and bent it into a heart-shape," Conner replied warmly.
M'gann looked down at her half-eaten bowl. "And then you stuck a picture of us behind it."
"And two days later…"
"Wolf ate it!" they both said simultaneously, laughing over the mental link.
For a moment M'gann forgot all her woes. Forgot she couldn't shape-shift, forgot everything but the good times they had shared. She stared brightly into Conner's eyes, the moon reflecting like silver shards off his blue orbs. He never looked more satisfied, more… in love.
Instantly all her troubles came pouring back and darkness drove away the happiness M'gann felt. She couldn't understand why this was happening. Couldn't understand him. Couldn't understand why she was feeling the way she felt when she told herself she wouldn't.
"You really aren't giving up, are you?" she said at last. Her mental voice met his mind softly but all the laughter was gone. In its place was an edge of pain.
He stared at her a moment more then shrugged cavalierly as he returned to eating his eggs. "Didn't plan on it," he admitted, not trying to hide his intent.
"My feelings on the matter haven't changed, Conner," she reminded him firmly.
"I know."
M'gann sighed. "Then let it go."
"I can't," he said simply. "You said it yourself, your feelings haven't changed."
She blew a huff of annoyance. "I meant about this." She gestured at herself.
"What do you mean about the rest of it, then?"
Her ridged brow crinkled faintly. "What do you mean?"
"The rest of your emotions," Conner clarified. "Did they change?"
She blinked once, taken off guard by the question. "I don't understand," she replied, hoping to stall the conversation.
Conner saw right through her. "Yes, you do."
M'gann looked away from him, focusing her black and orange stare out to the ocean. Oh yes, she knew well what he was asking. "Well then it's you who doesn't understand!" she snapped painfully over the link. "I'm a White Martian. We're selfish and horrid and blood-thirsty monsters. We don't love anything but ourselves! I became Megan Mars because I loved the fact that I could live out the life I always wanted, I didn't have to be this anymore but it is what I am at the core of me Conner and I didn't care when I could maintain the shape-shifting but now that I can't pretend anymore everything has just come flooding back. I can't not be a White Martian. And every day I have to face that reality, every day I can't try to forget because you won't quit! You're making this harder than it needs to be."
"Then I'll make it easier for you." Conner placed a hand on her ridged knee. "Tell me you don't love me. Tell me you don't want to be with me, and I promise I'll never bring it up again."
M'gann continued to stare ahead, seeing the ocean and moon and stars without actually seeing them. In the tv shows this would be the part where the sky would let down pouring rain to a swell of emotional music, or they would be on the brink of the fight of their lives exclaiming what they felt for one another in the midst of heart-stopping action, but nothing in her life was like the tv shows. No one else in the world knew what was going on there on those sand-worn, splintery steps. It was just him and her and two bowls of failed omelet.
The answer to her relational woes stood right there for the taking, offered from his own mouth. It would be so easy, wouldn't it? She knew Conner would keep his promise. If she said she didn't love him, he would keep his distance. He would stay her friend but he would no longer make his feelings known.
She could guard her heart then. She wouldn't be hurt again as she always was. All she had to do was tell him she didn't love him and she could be assured that at least she wouldn't bring any more pain to her heart.
There would be no more times like on Mars where eventually every non-White Martian had rejected her, and she would have her powers again at some point, able to mask herself as Megan Mars once more. Besides, she would forget eventually, wouldn't she? And so would he, about this silly little thing called love. No one could love or trust a White Martian but another White Martian, as the saying on Mars went anyway.
In less than a minute the status quo could be firmly established once more.
All she had to do was say those four little words. I. Don't. Love. You.
M'gann took a deep, steadying breath and slowly turned to look at him again. She leaned down, her large alien eyes level with his. To anyone who didn't know them it looked like a lone man about to be eaten by an alien. It looked like all that would be left of him were shreds of hair and errant limbs, but there was no fear in Conner's eyes. No fear or disgust or hatred or anger. Just trust and love.
M'gann's alien eyes searched him, taken aback by what she saw. She hadn't seen it before but, looking at him now she realized she wasn't the only one that had changed that night in Bialya. The old Conner was there, the same stubborn, taciturn, Superboy who had a heart of a hero deep beneath his sometimes-gruff exterior, but there was something different about him as well, something more stable and stalwart. Beneath his broody mien was someone who truly had become as solid as Mount Justice. Someone she could depend on without question.
Somewhere between the events of Perfections attack and now he had grown and M'gann found she was no longer looking at Conner Kent the boy but Conner Kent the man, flaws and all.
He had unwittingly overcome the huge hurdle all teens faced as they ventured into adulthood. The hurdle that most adults still hadn't figured out either. He knew what he wanted in life, and what he wanted was her.
And, at that very moment, despite all her feelings about what she was, M'gann figured out what she wanted too.
It was him. It had always been him. Even now.
Conner placed a hand against the side of her face and his tender touch broke her. She pushed her head against his chest as her emotions finally boiled over. Her ravaged throat let forth a keening, haggard wail, barely smothered by his bare chest.
She had kept her anguish bottled up for two months and only now could she let her emotions flow. Only now that she was safe on her rock that was Conner, the only man she'd ever loved, did she feel free enough to let go, knowing he'd be there to catch her with her flaws and truth and all. There wasn't any use trying to hide what she felt anymore. She wanted him as much as he wanted her.
"I'm so sorry," she sobbed mentally. "I'm so sorry for lying to you. I'm so sorry I brought us to this. I'm sorry if I ever made you think for a moment that what we had was gone. It never left. I truly, deeply, love you with all my hearts."
Conner wrapped his arms around her shoulders as best he could and drew her in. He said nothing, only comforted her with his presence, as she keened and sobbed and admitted the truth. The fact of the matter was that despite how broken and unlovable she felt inside she would never be able to say those four impossible words.
Despite how much she hated what she was, she loved him far more.