#yj megan

[hugsandchaos]

Seeing Double

Part One, Part Two, Part Three

Summary: A ghost who looks a lot like Phantom comes to him in search of protection, and their newest member instantly agrees. He calls her his little sister, and sooner or later, Phantom also might end up with a new brother.

*bangs pots and pans together* @vixen-uchiha, @starlightcat04, @blueliac, COME GET Y’ALL’S JUICE!!!

Phantom smiled to himself looking up at the night sky. The event he’d been waiting for finally started a few minutes ago, the top right “corner” of the moon was dark with the tiniest hint of red on the “edge”. He was pretty grateful for being allowed to go outside for the lunar eclipse. Especially since the other members of Young Justice got to tag along as well. He could hear Wally explaining the specifics of the event to Conner below, but ignored it.

Phantom was well above the trees so he could get a perfect view of the lunar eclipse, so it wasn’t very hard to ignore them. Especially since he was so happy about what he was going to see soon. And by soon, he meant an hour or so. Since they were so far out from the city the civilization in general, Phantom also had an amazing view of the stars. It seemed like every second he spent looking at them instead of the moon, a new one would pop into existence. Or he’d recognize another constellation.

He leaned back so he was floating with his back facing the ground and crossed one of his legs over the other. He folded his arms over his abdomen and smiled fondly, acting as if he was laying on solid ground instead of being in midair. Then a small blue fog of smoke came out of his mouth.

Phantom quickly swung himself upright and looked around. He really didn’t want to deal with any ghost fights right now, he just wanted some peace. As he scanned the area around him, he noticed something in the distance. It definitely wasn’t a star, and it was too small to be a pod. It might be the ghost he had sensed being nearby.“Phantom?” Robin called out. The ghostly hero glanced down below.”Everything alright?” He asked.

Phantom nodded and went back to looking at the ghost.”Yeah, just a second. I think I see something.” He yelled back. He squinted his eyes to try to see if he could recognize the ghost. It didn’t take long for him to figure out who it was, and when he did, a huge smile broke out across his face.

“Danielle!!!” Phantom called out.

He quickly rushed towards his younger clone. He didn’t notice his friends calling for him, but he noticed that Dani had definitely spotted him since she was also hurdling towards him. They reached each other somewhere midway and Phantom slowed down enough before they practically collided with each other. Dani didn’t really slow down as soon as him and knocked him back a little, but he wasn’t too fazed by the impact and wrapped his arms around her.

He hugged his sister considerably tighter than he usually hugs people, and spun around a bit as a small way to release some of the new, excited energy. Dani laughed a little as they spun, then he stopped.”How have you been?!” He asked excitedly.

“I’ve been great!!” She said. They both ended the hug with big grins on their face, very happy to see the other after months had passed. Phantom was about to ask her about her time apart from him, but she opened her mouth to speak.”I’ve seen so many cool things that I wanna tell you about, and guess what?!“ She asked. She held her mouth open and pointed at the upper part. That’s when Phantom noticed her canine teeth were a bit bigger than a regular human’s.”I’ve grown fangs, like yours!” She exclaimed. The older halfa gasped softly. He wasn’t quite sure what emotion had just swelled up in his chest a little, but he’s felt it before, and it was definitely positive.

Was it pride? Was he proud of her? He wasn’t sure if that was it or not, but the feeling remained.”That’s so cool, Dani! They’re fang-tastic.” He said.

Dani’s grin grew a little bit wider when he said that.”Why, fang you!” She said. Suddenly, her expression changed drastically from pure excitement to what looked like distrust. Her eyes looked at something behind him, and Phantom quickly turned around to see what or who it was that caused her reaction.

Megan was floating there.”Who’s your friend, Phantom?” She asked kindly. Phantom calmed down a little and smiled again. He glanced back at Dani again and noticed how she looked a little confused, but still defensive. He floated back to be next to Dani.

“Hey, Megan! This is my little sister. She has the same powers as me.” He said. Him talking with his friend so calmly and casually seemed to help Dani relax. Which was what he was hoping for.

Megan’s smile grew as she looked over at the other halfa.”Really?! You’ve never mentioned your relatives before!” She said. She held a hand out.”It’s really nice to meet you, Danielle. I’m Megann! Well, Megann is my Earth name.” She introduced herself. Dani glanced over at Phantom. He knew what it was she was asking and gave her an encouraging nod. With the affirmation that it was safe, Dani smiled and shook Megann’s hand.”Nice to meet you too.” She said with a small smile. For a moment, Phantom was happy that they hadn’t met her in some kind of fight or had a misunderstanding. Then he remembered something pretty important. Not wanting to make it awkward, though, he decided to try to play it cool.

He gave Megann a slightly apologetic look.”I’m sorry, but would you mind letting us chat for a bit? We have a lot to catch up on and talk about, and something tells me it’s going to get a little personal.” He asked politely. He tried to make it understandable and reasonable, and to him, that sounded like a good explanation. He’s been pretty private about his life before he joined Young Justice, anyways.

Megann nodded.”Oh, yeah, of course! I’ll let the others know what you’re doing if they ask.” She said. The older halfa agreed with that idea and nodded to show it. The martian turned around and flew back to the others, and once she was gone, Phantom glanced over at Dani.

She turned to him at the same time, also looking pretty serious. Seemed like they both had something to say.”You go first.” Phantom said. Dani remained silent for an extra minute. Phantom waited until an idea of what it was entered his head, and he didn’t like it one bit.”It wasn’t Vlad, was it?” He asked. Dani shook her head.

“I was... I was spotted by one of them.”

Those words briefly made Phantom’s core stop. The sweet moment suddenly turned way more sour than he was expecting. His eyes widened in shock and horror and they both floated in silence for a while. With each passing second, Dani looked more and more like she’d start to cry. Tears were slowly starting to form, but she was holding back.”I don’t want them to catch me... We both know I can’t go into the Ghost Zone, so... I didn’t know what else to do.” She said. Her voice came close to cracking at the end.

Phantom quickly pulled his mind back together. An urge to protect his sister began to block out the fear he also felt for her and he pulled her into a hug.”They won’t get the chance. I’ll do everything to make sure of it.” He said. He wasn’t entirely sure how he’d be able to actually protect her against part of the government, but he wasn’t lying. He was going to do whatever he could to protect her from the Guys In White. Dani hugged back.”Thank you.” She said.

“Anytime.” Phantom said. It was practically obvious to him. As long as his core was still vibrating and his heart was still beating, he’d protect her against anything.”But listen, my team doesn’t know I’m a halfa. They only think I’m a ghost. I think you should say the same.” He said. Dani nodded.

They soon ended the hug and Dani looked better than before. Phantom noticed something above and pointed behind her.”Look at that.” He said. Dani followed his gaze and let out a small, amazed “ohh” under her breath when she saw it. The lunar eclipse wasn’t complete yet, but it was getting there. A part of it was still white, but the majority of it was getting more and more red, and even looked a little orange.”I saw one of those before. Lunar eclipse, right?” She asked.

“Mhmm.” Phantom confirmed.

The two remained there for only a few minutes, watching the moon change ever so slightly, before Dani filled the silence again.”Can we meet the rest of your teammates?” She asked, turning to face him.

“Duhh! This way.” Phantom said, then flew to where his friends had set up camp.

It was a pretty short flight, and once there, his teammates were already looking at them. The group had used Megan’s bioship to fly out an hour or so away from the mountain and brought their own tents, and obviously some campfire snacks along with other necessities. They were all aligned in a circle with a sort of “entrance” facing the direction of the bioship. Phantom landed with Dani close behind and glanced back at her to make sure she wouldn’t get overwhelmed or anything. He wasn’t entirely sure how good her social skills were. She looked a little bit surprised, but overall okay. Phantom turned to his team.”Hey, guys! Hope you don’t mind one more.” He said, gesturing towards his sister. Dani smiled and waved at them.

Megan was the first of them to speak.”Not at all! Come on over, the eclipse is getting closer.” She said. Dani accepted the invitation and began walking over to them. Phantom obviously followed.

He noticed Conner looking a little surprised, but brushed it off since everyone seemed a bit surprised to learn that he apparently had a sister. Dani floated off the ground to be more at eye level with his friends.”How come all of your friends are taller than me?” She asked, glancing back at Phantom. He just shrugged and grinned.”I guess you just got the short end of the stick.” He said. Dani rolled her eyes and looked back at them.

“I’m Danielle! It’s nice to meet all of my brother’s new teammates.” She said. Robin held his hand out and Dani accepted it.

“It’s nice to meet you too. I’m Robin. That’s Wally, Artemis, Conner, Kaldur, and you’ve already met Megan.” He said. Phantom leaned closer to Dani and pointed at Wally.

“He doesn’t really believe in ghosts, so feel free to bug him when he’s not training or on missions.” He whispered.

Wally glared at him and Robin and Artemis both muffled a laugh behind their hands.”Hey!” Wally snapped. Dani gasped almost slightly offended, then grinned mischievously.

“Oh, I’d love to!” She said. Before she said something else, though, Conner spoke up.

“Megan told us you’re his little sister, but I didn’t expect you to look practically just like our friend. You could be mistaken for twins if it wasn’t for the age difference.” He said. He didn’t seem upset, and Phantom was a bit relieved about it. He didn’t think that Conner would start anything, but he had anger issues and had... negative reactions to being reminded that he’s a clone of someone who doesn’t like him.

Dani shrugged a little. “Well, yeah! I’m his clone, so of course I look like him and have similar powers.“ She said. The camp went quiet. The atmosphere wasn’t exactly heavy or intense, but it certainly wasn’t as happy and calm as before. Dani noticed the change and at first was confused, then she started to grow nervous. She glanced between Phantom’s teammates.

Finally, one of them spoke.“You said she’s your little sister.” Wally said. Phantom immediately hopped onto the defensive, but tried to remember about their treatment towards Conner and not mistake his confusion in his voice for something negative.

Dani seemed to make that mistake, though, since she began floating closer to him with a pretty nervous expression.”Yeah, because she is. Just because there’s no legal documentation or something doesn’t mean she can’t be my family.” Phantom said. Dani stopped right next to him and nodded in agreement. To her surprise and not her big brother’s, his friends all seemed almost a little heart warmed by this. Conner just looked surprised.

“That’s nice of you. To give her a family.” Kaldur said.

“I don’t see why I wouldn’t, but thanks?” Phantom said. Dani suddenly flew upwards and looked at the sky.

“Enough with the sentimental stuff, we’re going to miss it!” She said. The older halfa quickly remembered the reason they’d come outside in the first place and let out a small “oh”. He followed her lead and smiled at the moon once he was above the trees.

It was now completed and fully red. Sure, there was still a tiny bit of lighter red, but the huge majority looked a lot like blood. It was a little creepy, but Phantom still couldn’t help but admire it. It was amazing, and made him almost forget about the talk he’d need to have with Kaldur and Red Tornado, and possibly the rest of the league later. He’d think about that after the eclipse was over. For now, he was just going to enjoy the sight.

[spicy-apple-pie]

I'm a pinch hitter for DC for Gaza on twitter so I'd thought I'd share some YJ girls hanging out here too!

(unfortunately, donations are closed, but don't stop supporting Palestinians in need!!)

[thatcutenerdygirl]

There is one right answer

[candy8448]

I dont get how people think that wally is gonna come back in young justice

They say its because of dick's fever dream in ep 23 and the whole artemis in megan's mental playroom thing in ep 25 (both s3) and like i know the speed force vaguely and whatever

The whole dick not wanting to be part of a team and so getting the bowhunter security team and such, and then the fever dream, and then artemis hugging him and saying how wally will always be fighting with them, and then him becoming part of the team again at the end of the season

And artemis being a hero again, her being tigress, her figuring her life out with will, the whole playroom thing, wally giving her permission to find love again (yes ik it was megan's playroom but artemis was in control of it and also it still doesnt really change it)

They are both about acceptance of his death and moving on and figuring out themselves again

Wally isn't coming back because we see with the two people who were closest to him that they are able to accept the death and move on, and they wouldn't have done those character arcs if they were just going ti bring wally back, so i really dont think he is coming back and i think that it makes more sense if he doesnt come back or else these character arcs would be meaningless

[sleeplesswooper]

HAPPY HALLOWEEN🎃👻🍬

Wdym I forgot to post Goretober stuff here again?

This was made with FireAlpaca and Ibis Paint X

[huli-jinx]

Here’s what I think each Season 1 Young Justice team members’ cream soda would look like:

Aqualad:

Robin:

Kid Flash:

Superboy:

Miss Martian:

Artemis:

Red Arrow:

Zatanna:

Rocket:

Link: https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/2075394

[dcfanforever]

Watching Season 1, Episode 13 of Young Justice and Kaldur'ahm was actually right to keep his knowledge of the mole a secret.

I understand why the rest of the team is upset, but you have to think about this logically.

If Kaldur had said something, the mole would likely know that someone was looking to find them! Along with that, everyone would've become suspicious of everyone else which would've greatly hindered their ability to work as a team.

Plus, Kaldur had no clues on who the mole was or even if there really was a mole or if that was just a lie!

So, when you think about it logically and not emotionally, he did the right thing.

Also, yes, I know the truth of the mole. I looked it up because I couldn't contain my curiousity.

Extra: I'm just waiting to see if they find out just how old Captain Marvel really is. I'm amazed Batman hasn't figured it out. Honestly, he probably knows and just keeps quiet about it.

[fictionrecipe]

Watching childhood shows...

I was rewatching Young Justice and while it will always have a soft corner in my heart, I truly do wish we did not have a time jump for every season and got a little bit more in-depth with the characters. I wish we grew and watched our faves grow in the messy bits of being an adult.

The show captured these moments in small bursts. Bursts that had so much potential of being full-fledged episodes in and of themselves. And idk, this show has such a special place in my heart. But something about seeing characters I grew up with mature like me, but not seeing them experience the messy parts of growing up is sad.

It could have been cool if the first season is them just forming the team (which is what happened) and the second season being growing older and caught in between the League and mentoring kids! The second season felt more like "working with" and not mentoring, which isn't bad per say. I like the fact that the old team collaborates with the new teammates and treats them as capable heroes. I just know that the old team would have wanted to actually be with the kids as they mature. As they get older, the consequences of having the Young Justice team then catch up to them.

I think season 3 with Outsiders does capture this; working with the League, mentoring children and giving the younger heroes agency felt like a good segue to the first season and what the second season should have been. We got character depth with new characters but also got to see some of our old heroes' personal lives and turmoils. We also see ethically and politically what being a hero means! Which is so fundamental to the YJ heroes and their personal growth.

I would have loved seeing the dynamics of the old team more in-depth as they get older. Dick and Kaldur constantly exchange leadership, especially when Dick handed over the team to Kaldur to deflect from Wally's death. Moments with Artemis and M'gann comforting each other over their partners' deaths...partners they've had since they were teenagers. Connor interacting with the Kents and not just put as an afterthought of "but of course now we're all a big, happy family!". Wally and Artemis deciding at what point was the hero life worth getting away from (Wally never seemed like the person to back down from the hero life in season 1, so I'm curious to know at what point this changes for him or was it his relationship with Artermis that does that). ROCKET SHOULD HAVE BEEN MORE PROMINENT AS PART OF THE OG TEAM!

Anyways, just thoughts.

[themartianwitch-fic]

Yours In Fractions - Ch. 6 - Hold Your Breath

Fic summary: After the invasion, Conner and M'gann re-connect with each other and themselves. (Set between Seasons 2 and 3. Semi-abandoned WIP. See pinned post for full fic's content warnings.)

[March 18th, Team Year Seven]

[…Wolf, C02.]

Super-Cycle’s wheels never touch ground. She passes through the zeta tube and shoots straight up into the sky, gusts of wind in her wake kicking at the wet branches of the surrounding trees. Leaves smack against the wind and each other, ripping into the air; acorns plunk into the zeta tube’s metal arch and the stone bridge that camouflages it. The portal closes, fizzling out.

A clear blue void stretches out before Conner’s eyes. Without a look down, he could think that he’s anywhere. Hands on Super-Cycle’s controls, he looks down anyway, glancing over the edge of his outstretched arm. The only clouds in the sky below are thin white wisps, stray pieces dotted over the view like smudges on glass. Smallville’s white water tower stands the tallest of all the structures beneath them; next tallest are the telephone poles, lines threaded between them like a net with gaps too wide to catch whatever might fall into the cluster of rooftops below. Raindrops hang like string lights off the thick black wires, some sporadically breaking loose to drop into faintly rippling puddles. Heads and shadows lightly speckle the sidewalks.  Cars and trucks border the curbs–few move. Smooth, shimmering streets give way to country roads, edges of their lines scratched with grass, or mottled with dirt and grains of loose gravel–

Conner blinks, shakes his head, and brings his eyes back to Supercycle’s controls. Wolf grumbles, yawns. His claws click against the outside of his compartment; a glance down, and Conner sees Wolf's large black nose poking up into the air, head tilted back to let the breeze blow through his neck fur. In the backseat, M’gann’s hair flicks against her shoulders, close enough in Conner’s ears to be flicking against his own. The rest of her sounds as still as a statue–save for her heart, on the thought to tune into it. The thin ribbon handles of the bag at her feet bat against its stiff exterior and crinkled insides like lashes over tired eyes.

Conner growls softly, teeth on edge. He can’t think about that now.

For more reasons than one.

Soon enough, another glance will take them straight there, he knows. Soon enough, he and M’gann will be in earshot, and Ma will have them being listened for, he knows.

It’s now or never.

Keeping hold of the controls, Conner turns his head. “M’gann.”

“Hm?” M’gann leans towards him, meeting his eyes, hair waving at him then dropping flat to her shoulders. “Yes?”

Conner holds his breath for a moment, then lets it out. “Link us.”

Tha-bump goes M’gann’s heart. Eyes wide, she snaps back upright, hitting her head against the top of her seat with a thud. “What?”

Conner’s shoulders tense, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t blink. “I mean it.”

“I-I—” M’gann’s voice crackles out into a low stutter. Her heels click against the floor of her seat. “Wh-why?”

Conner’s eyes dart back out to empty blue. “Said it was a mission,” he reminds her. “Last night. You agreed to it.”

“I–we didn’t… talk about… being linked,” M’gann responds.

Conner huffs. “You know that’s not true.”

Tha-bump again.

Conner growls.  “I mean–”

“I–know, I’m… sorry, again,” M’gann rasps. She clears her throat. “But I–I just don’t think it would be a good idea…”

A barn’s tin roof flashes white sunlight into Conner’s eyes, a signal flare from below. It’s not the Kents’, but it will be. Soon.

“...Especially today…”

They don’t have time for this.

“Don’t start with that,” Conner snarls down at plowed rows of dirt.

M’gann gasps faintly. “I’m not–starting anything, I just think–”

“–You’re gonna tell me it’s not safe because we can’t trust your powers after telling me your psychic scar is your problem only.” Conner faces back away from her, hands wringing at Super-Cycle’s controls. Super-Cycle bleeps at him in defiance, keeping her pace. “Save it,” he says to M’gann, huffing down at his own chest. “I don’t buy it. You’re here. Any thought you had of wrecking this, you wouldn’t’ve come. So I don’t wanna hear it.”

M’gann meets his words with verbal silence and a racing heart. Wolf looks back at Conner with a whine and a groan. Conner meets Wolf's yellow eyes and stares. I mean it, he thinks to Wolf with a furrow of his brow. Wolf stares back at him, unmoved.

Conner blinks and looks away.

“That’s… not… entirely true,” M’gann then says. “But, um… Conner?”

Conner swallows. “What?”

“Could you, um, please, um… look back at me, just for a moment?”

Conner’s eyes hone in on a lone cloud, the only speck of white overhead other than the sun. “Can’t,” he responds, suddenly short of breath. “Eyes on the road.”

“We’re in the sky!”

“I’m not hittin’ a bird.” His heart starts to quicken. “Or a plane.” His hands slip off the handlebars to curl into themselves and clench. “But we’re almost in range, so anything else you wanna say, you’re saying it to Superman, too!”

M’gann’s gasp slips and fades into the pool of their shared heartbeats, both pulsating through his head at increasing speeds, one faster–hers, he thinks.

Super–Conner’s eyes sting against air. Clark, he corrects himself, jerking his head down like he could mentally punch the right words into his brain. Kal. Kal-El. He forces out a breath. The beat in his head becomes one deafening pulse, pounding up from inside his chest. Stop it.

A breeze rolls into the back of his shoulder with fingertip precision. His back stiffens, his body focusing to identify the source. A point of soft pressure travels down the outside of his arm, fading just before his elbow.

M’gann’s presence trickles into his mind on another breeze. The wave of it rolls against the edge of his perception then drifts back, leaving an opening, a trail lined with warmth and light straight back into her mind. His shoulders slacken.

[...Link established,] her voice in his head says.

Conner slowly turns in his seat to face her. M’gann smiles at him, hand curled up near her heart, eyes blinking at him fast. She heard him have to tell himself–or, no. He hadn’t felt her link yet. Conner stares at her hand; he felt her telekinetic touch first. But if she didn’t hear that, then–Conner starts to open his mouth, then remembers: she’s there.

[What was that?] Conner asks her.

M’gann drops her hand down to her lap. [Oh, I’m–sorry, I–]

[No.] Conner shakes his head. [Just wanna know why.]

[I just… thought it’d be nice to give a little warning,] M’gann responds, shrugging tightly-drawn shoulders. [After, you know… the other night?]

Conner stares at her.

M’gann holds her smile.

[...Warning for something I asked you to do,] Conner says.

M’gann’s cheeks go pink, and she drops her head down in defeat, then snickers under her breath. [I guess I’m… still a little nervous.] She raises her head and bats away hair. [But I promise to be on my best behavior.] She nods, vocalizing a hm! behind tightly-closed lips. [I won’t embarrass you in front of your family.]

M’gann, that’s the last thing on my mind, Conner thinks several layers deeper than the link, a mutter under his psychic breath. Sure enough, M’gann keeps her reach shallow–she stares at him expectantly for a response, lips disappearing under the bite of her teeth. Worry lines etch themselves into her brow.

[M'gann, you can’t embarrass me in front of my family,] Conner says to assure her, pushing the thought up and into the psychic channel, feeling it leave him and reach her.

[I’ll just worry about embarrassing myself, then!] M’gann responds with a wink, hands to her hips even in her seat.

I mean that’s not–he shakes his head. [I mean that’s not how families are supposed to work. They’re not supposed to judge you.]

M’gann’s mouth opens in a silent gasp; eyes drifting off to nowhere, she closes it back in a crooked smile. [Right.]

Conner watches her hands wring together in her lap. He bites his tongue–physically. Psychically, he feels his end of the link tense, pull back, and flex shut, like the curl and uncurl of a fist. M’gann feels it, too–a flicker of alarm brushes the surface of his mind, and her presence becomes less, shrinks down from a breeze to a breath. Conner pushes against the widening gap between his own mind and hers: no. Not a thought, just a thought-act, a mental gesture–he reaches for her. She feels it–he feels her feel it. She nudges her mind back closer to his. He presses his thoughts into hers: here. Stay.

Her mind presses back: here.

They lock eyes again. M’gann’s mouth starts on a word; she leaves it hanging half-open instead. Conner swallows.

[Sorry,] their minds project in unison, mental voices overlapping.

M’gann clamps her mouth shut; Conner’s drops open.

[I…] A giggle jumps to the top of M’gann’s throat. Her lips part in a toothy grin as she snorts. She squeezes her eyes shut and shakes her head from side-to-side as the rest of her bounces up-and-down in place. [Should I be laughing right now?]

[Don’t know,] Conner says, feeling warmth release into his chest like a valve. [Keep doin’ it anyway.]

M’gann opens bright eyes back onto him. Her laughter fades out; she sighs through her nose, mouth fixed open in a grin, freckled skin curving and creasing over the contours of her cheeks. [Aren’t we… in range?]

[Oh.] Tension replaces the warmth in Conner's chest. [Right.]

M'gann's smile wanes. [Conner, I'm… happy to stay linked with you–even though we probably shouldn't–]

[–Says who?] Conner snaps.

M'gann bites her lip and looks away, nodding to the side. [I… seem to recall a certain house rule being made because of us.]

[Oh, uh.] Conner nods. He hadn’t forgotten. He just hadn't expected her to remember–or care. They broke it plenty of times.  [Yeah,] he concedes.

[Well, because of me, specifically–]

[What's your point?]

[My point is, well…] M’gann folds her hands neatly in her lap. [I'm here. And I'm happy to be here. And I'm still thrilled that you invited me–]

[There's a 'but.']

[There is a 'but.'] M’gann nods.  [And it's about my butt–so to speak.]

Conner’s brow furrows. [Oh-kay…]

[Sorry.] M’gann grins and smooths hair behind her ear. [Couldn't resist.] She scoots forward in her seat and leans closer to him. Out loud, she takes a deep breath. [I… don’t want today to be about… me, okay?  I feel like I’ve… distracted you enough these past two days, t-two nights, definitely, with my… issues, but… today is about you, and your family… and of course, that includes you-know-who.] She gestures towards the bag with just a quick glance down, then looks back into his eyes. [Promise me you won’t… let me overshadow that. I’m here as a guest. I don’t want my presence to take away from… how special today is.]

Nothing is ever less special with you, Conner lets slip through a low part of his mind–in frustration more than any other feeling. He keeps the thought to himself, but not the frustration. “Why do you think I invited you?”

M’gann’s eyes widen at him.

Conner’s open lips still thrum with his voice. He presses them shut and growls at himself as silently as possible, a quick slice of a breath through the inside of his throat. [Yeah, I know, I know.] He furthers the dismissal with a wave of his hand. [Question still stands.]

M’gann breathes out through pursed lips. [In all honesty, a-and I want to be honest, so… I… know what you said last night about exposing him to new people, but…] She winces. [It’s… not at all your fault, nothing you’ve said or done, just my mind… going to… well, rude places.]  She sighs, holding tension in her jaw. [I feel almost like a… pity case?]

“No.” Blood rushes through and out of Conner’s thumping heart, boils in the heat burning in his cheeks. “Why?”

M’gann straightens in her seat. [Are–are we not–]

“I don’t care.”

[Should I… go ahead and disconnect the–]

“No.” [No,] he repeats back over the link. [Just answer the question.]

M’gann sighs again. A hard crease forms in her brow. She looks at him with her own hint of frustration, but it quickly shifts to a silent plea, then small apology. [The short answer is… I’m embarrassed about what a mess I’ve been these past two days, and I’m projecting that onto you. More than unfairly.] She offers up a small shrug. [And… that’s it, really.]

Conner stares up into her eyes. [The long answer is Gar.]

M’gann gasps at him, a sharp, high note of her voice ringing out from her mouth as her eyes turn liquid-bright. [That’s a… very… long answer,] she responds, keeping her mental voice steady.  [And… exactly what I meant when I said today isn’t about me.] She presses her mouth shut, brow furrowing in determination. [I mean it, Conner, I am not going to ruin this. If that means I have to leave–]

[–What am I supposed to tell them if you leave?] Conner snaps at her, eyes hot as he glares.  [They already know you’re coming. How would that not ruin it?]

[I–I didn’t mean I planned to–] M’gann’s head shakes, then goes still as her heel stomps the floor of her seat. [Actually, you could–you c-could t-tell them I’m on a mission!] She nods determinedly. [They would understand.]

[And what fake crisis am I supposed to make up that needs you and not me?] Conner throws back at her.

[I–I don’t know, tell them I’m under deep cover as someone who won’t ruin someone else’s family gathering by moping!]

[I invited you to be my backup.] Conner huffs in time with the words of his projected thought, his teeth clenching. [It’s got nothing to do with pity. I was already going to ask you before the other night–why else do you think I wanted you to help me shop?]

[Because… you don’t like shopping for clothes?] M’gann shrugs her shoulders up to her ears, shakes her head, then pinches the bridge of her nose between her fingers. [Conner, this is your family! You don’t need me for backup!]

[You needed us for yours!] Conner shouts at the top of his mental lungs.

M’gann half-gasps, half-scoffs; the sound cuts off behind a wall in her throat, but her mouth stays open at him in dismay. Her eyes slowly sink to the floor of her seat. [That’s–that’s different.] Her eyes flutter back up to him, and she bites her mouth shut, cheeks puffing slightly as she holds it in a firm line. [Martha and Jonathan Kent are some of the nicest people I’ve ever met–on any planet!]

Conner narrows his eyes at her. [And J’ann and M’att M’orzz?]

[They–just–] M’gann blinks at him furiously, eyes glistening despite the beating of her lashes. [You–never ran away from your–] She shakes her head, hair blustering up from her shoulders. [Conner, this isn’t about me!]

“Ww-ruff!”

Gravity hits Conner’s stomach.  His knees clench on reflex around his seat, hands feeling for grip against smooth red metal as he holds himself between his display board and M’gann’s. M’gann’s hair whips behind her head as her hands smack straight down into her seat. The bag at her feet slides; her heels click as a thup stops it in place.

Super-Cycle pulls out of her nosedive into a slow, easy descent.  Wolf looks back at Conner, grumbling–Conner’s eyes skim over twitching white ears to the bright razor edge of a barn’s tin roof, watching shadows dull its shine as his eyeline sinks below it. Super-Cycle’s wheels touch ground, and her motor slows to a resting pulse.

All four of Wolf’s paws land at once with a flicking, shimmering splash into wet grass. Conner’s eyes dart back to M’gann. M’gann blinks at him, biting her lip, then shrugs, smiling as she sighs.

[Do you… want to keep arguing now, or wait ‘til we get home?]

Conner’s mouth twitches with a half-smile, but he holds it back, keeping his eyes on M’gann’s face–and nothing else. A glance behind him, and it’s real. [Depends. You staying?]

M’gann’s eyes take on an airy softness as she flops her head to the side and smiles. [Of course.]

Conner swallows and nods, feeling warmth brush his cheeks as the smile breaks through to his lips. [Then just drop it,] he says.

M’gann nods and lifts the gift bag up from the floor, red ribbon handles draped over her upturned wrist and pinned in place by her fingertips.

[But, uh, but not that,] Conner adds.

M’gann giggles and rises from her seat. Pressing her hand to her thigh to hold her pale pink skirt in place, she drifts up and over Super-Cycle’s rear wheel.

Super-Cycle bleeps at him to get out, too. Conner can’t help but welcome the command. He jumps down to the ground and feels the earth sink under his boots as they hit it–no cracking or crumbling, just the squish. All seats emptied, Sphere curls into her resting form and rolls down the crunching gravel path into the barn. Conner hears her settle down into her concave bed of rustling hay, beeping and whirring with contentment.

M’gann floats to Conner’s side, the tips of her pointed white shoes touching down into the grass. She lands standing taller than usual–his eyes take an extra half-second to find hers, like she’s accounting for time since he last brought her here. Only her unshifted form ages naturally, he thinks, furrowing his brow. And the Kents have never not known what she is.

He almost says something. Out loud first–he bites the inside of his lip–and then within the link–he dips his presence low and thinks only to himself, staring at her as she smooths her hair back behind her stiff, high collar. It’s not worth saying–it’s none of his business.

She’s dressed for a wedding, Conner thinks instead–in black, it’d fit a funeral.

She’d left his side to pin herself to Artemis, their black-clad arms woven into knots. His hands kept clenching at voids, ears kept listening for heartbeats in the headstone, eyes kept waiting for lightning to shoot up from the empty ground–

–No. His eyes go to the sky, an excuse for them to water. Not now. The shirt on his skin starts to itch, sealed claw holes on his shoulders feeling thick as knots but thin enough to unravel on a breath. I’m fine, Conner thinks at M’gann before she can say anything–the words spin in place in his head like mud-stuck wheels.

[You look nice,] he gruffs out instead, forcing his thoughts back light enough to float to the surface of his mind.

[Thank you!] says M’gann’s disembodied voice as Conner’s eyes stay filled with too-bright blue. [I tried my best on such short notice.]

[Yeah,] Conner responds blankly.

Wolf’s nose brings Conner’s attention back down to Earth as it rises into the air, sniffing the breeze. Soon enough, Conner smells it, too, practically tastes it on his tongue: apple and cinnamon.

[Should we… head on up?] M’gann asks.

Conner’s eyes trail down the front yard and up the porch steps to the screen door. He walks himself there in his mind once, twice, three times–his feet stay glued in place. [Wait,] Conner replies. [‘Til they see us.]

With a flick of his tail, Wolf starts towards the house.

Conner growls.

M’gann giggles. [Well, I heard you,] she says, [but nobody told him.]

Wet specks spring out from the grass under Wolf’s feet with each step. Wolf raises his head again, giving a more determined sniff. The smell sets his tail spinning in circles.

Conner sighs.

[Think of it this way,] M’gann says, bag rustling in her hand. She leans it against her knees now, both hands around its handles. [It’s not like Lois didn’t already do all of the work.]

Conner huffs. [Yeah, and Super–I mean Kal already had all of the fun, too.]

He’s heard Artemis say it about Will and Jade, about Lian. He could tell she didn’t mean it.

But saying it now himself, Conner realizes what it does mean.

M’gann looks back at him with cheeks turning red. [We, um, probably shouldn’t say anything like–]

[–Forget I said it, period.]

M’gann snickers aloud, curls her lips in tight, and continues the giggle over their link, warm wisps of her presence flicking against his mind. [Gladly,] she responds. [I'd rather not have that mental image.]

The thought of thinking of it sets a picture forming in Conner’s own mind. He forces grainy, buzzing static behind his eyes. [Thanks.]

[Sorry!]

Thump, thump, thump.

Heartbeat steps hit hard, hollow wood with no click or scratch of claws. Conner’s eyes dart back to the house. Wolf sits at the doorstep, tail low and swishing. The steps grow louder.

Conner’s hands twitch at his sides. One curls into a fist. The other stops short–M’gann’s fingers slip between his own.

[Here.] M’gann holds the bag up towards him. His smeared reflection shines on its glossy blue and red surface. [You should be the one that has it. After all, they’re your gifts!]

Swallowing, Conner snatches the bag from her hand. His muscles expect bricks and steel; it all but floats in his hand. He squeezes the handles tight to feel them in his grip. All he feels is his own nails digging into his palm.

[Yours, too,] Conner says, mental voice not betraying his tightening throat.

[I helped!]

Conner gulps. [No, you–]

“Ah-huh!”

The latch unhooks. The screen door creaks open.

Wolf’s tail thumps in circles against the porch as Ma pats the top of his head.

“Somebody’s got the right idea, don’t you, boy?”

Wolf stands, tail curling up and ears pointing forward. Ma laughs a whooping, crackling, breathless laugh as Wolf moves past her, marching straight into the house.

M’gann’s hand dematerializes in Conner’s grip, leaving his hand cusped around a ball of air. Conner half-expects her to be gone, camouflaged and sunken down into the ground–his heart lurches into his throat–anger sits ready behind a wall of numb shock–

–M’gann stands solid but board-stiff, chin tilted to the sky, arms pulled tight behind her back. A breeze could knock her over. A breath nearly does.  Her rising chest tips her backward; she catches her footing, but adrenaline keeps her heart booming in his ears.

Numb shock releases into pure confusion. He furrows his brow at her. [Are you… okay?] he asks her.

M’gann breathes out. Her head and shoulders drop into more natural positions, even if still too tall. A hand returns from behind her back as a fist against her lips; she clears her throat and smiles, staring beyond him and nodding.

There’s no time to follow her eyeline–soft, thin hands grip Conner by the shoulders and set him facing forward like an object on a shelf. Ma pulls his chest down to her own and plants a loud, wet smack of a kiss right in the center of his hairline, her calloused yet delicate fingers brushing aside his bangs for direct contact.

“Now don’t make me have to carry you in!” she exclaims, squeezing her arms tight around his shoulders.

Conner’s limbs go a good kind of numb, a warm, tingling looseness that lets Ma’s arms feel strong against his muscles and his own arms feel small and featherlight as they float up and fall against Ma’s back. “Hey, Ma,” he says simply.

The bag slips from his wrist, falling into the wet grass with a ripple from its outsides, a crunch from its insides, and a gasp from M'gann.

"Oh!" Ma releases him and steps back.

[...Dammit,] Conner lets out, thankfully just in his mind–though also in M’gann’s.

The bag rises off the ground, ribbon handles arching up to be gripped. Ma's oh becomes an oh-ho-ho; M'gann floats the bag back up to him. "Uh." Rather than take hold of it again, Conner gestures to it with a weak wave of a ta-dah, and M'gann raises it higher in the air to compensate. "Brought this," he declares, half-muttering.

[Nothing too fragile in this bag, either,] M'gann says with a gentle slyness, a smirk in her mental voice.

Conner peers over the dark blue edge of a wrinkled red void. [...Right.]

“Oh, now that’s sweet,” Ma says, patting his cheek–and only stopping once a smile is on his face. She takes the bag into her arms with both hands–it’s light even by human standards, Conner knows, ignoring the pins and needles in his now empty hand, and Ma makes the same determination: after bouncing and rocking it in her hands, she drapes its handles over her arm. “And you also brought this lovely stranger here, I see!”

Ma gestures M’gann closer. M’gann nods and obliges, stepping into range of Ma’s swatting fingertips. They connect with the outside of her arm, and Ma pats her sleeve.

“It’s so nice to see you again, Mrs. Kent,” M’gann says in a polite, even voice.

Ma’s smile doesn’t recede, but she scoffs at M’gann, putting both hands to her hips and shaking her head.

M’gann’s eyes shoot Conner a quick S.O.S., her end of the link buzzing with stifled anxiety. Audibly–at least to him–she gulps.

"It's from both of us," Conner blurts out. "The–bag is, I mean. And what’s in it." If he says any more, he’ll spill it all. “Both of us,” he repeats somewhat numbly, watching M’gann for a reaction–her eyes don’t flicker back to him. Her eyes don’t even blink.

“Now, dear,” Ma starts, “I was having my fun, but I hope you don’t think that I’m just some missus.” She wags her finger at M’gann. “As long as my boy keeps bringing you here, you keep calling me ‘Ma,’ because his Ma is who he’s bringing you to see.” Her reproachful hand then falls gently to M'gann's shoulder.

M’gann’s next few heartbeats hit harder and deeper in Conner’s ears, and he watches her eyes take on a liquid sheen before her lashes start their telltale flutter. “Okay, Ma,” she says, smiling wide.

[Thank you] flits across the surface of Conner’s mind in a whisper, almost too softly for him to perceive–M’gann gives him a wide-eyed glance and pins her smile shut timidly, guiltily. [Oops–well–yes.] She sniffles and parts her lips again in an open grin. [Thank you,] she repeats, stronger this time.

Conner’s cheeks flare hot. He pries his eyes away from her–after all, their link is a secret. Guess you admit you needed this, he thinks at her, but not to her, keeping the thought low.

“And you here in your Sunday best,” Ma then continues, making Conner and M’gann both snap to attention. Ma plucks at M’gann’s sleeve then smooths down its creases. “My boy didn’t lie and say he was taking you somewhere fancy, did he?” The question tapers off with a laugh. “We’ve had our April showers a month early here in Smallville–I’m afraid those nice clean heels will sink right into the mud!”

Oh. Conner mentally slaps himself–quietly. Hello, Megan.

“O-oh, it’s alright–I float, too!” M’gann responds, rising an inch–yet another inch–off the ground and kicking one leg up behind her. “I maybe… cheat in heels, sometimes.”

Ma leans in close to her, cusping a hand against the side of her mouth to block it from Conner’s view. “The heels don’t play fair to begin with, dear,” she murmurs, feigning a whisper.

M’gann sputters out a laugh, quickly muffling it behind her own hand.

Ma then returns her hand to the side of Conner’s face, tapping his cheek and jaw as if trying to find the right button or nerve to press to make him smile. Conner rolls his eyes to the sky and lets his mouth stretch until his cheeks ache. Ma then swipes at his sleeve–Conner looks down to see her brushing Wolf hairs off his shoulder. Her fingertips hone in on the old holes from Wolf’s claws–she presses in and runs her fingers over her own stitches.

He feels her feel the flaw, then the fix–the would-be knot in Conner’s throat unravels as Ma hums in satisfaction and pats the spot on his shoulder. Her handiwork has held up; he’s brought proof of that.

His eyes go to the bag at Ma’s hip. His throat pulls tight again. That’s different, he insists to himself. That’s for him.

“Well, I made plenty of pie for seven,” Ma declares matter-of-factly. Her fingers test M’gann’s sleeve again. “And we’ve got plenty of napkins to boot.” She gives them both a nod and turns, gesturing for them to follow.

Conner watches blue and red shimmer in the sunlight as Ma walks the bag away. Something warm grazes his knuckles–he looks down to see M’gann’s hand swing back to her hip and clench a fistful of her skirt. [You’re… sure they knew I was coming,] she says warily.

[What–oh. Yeah.] Conner shakes his head, stops, and switches to a nod. [‘Course.] He looks back up into her eyes and furrows his brow. [Why?]

[She said seven,] M'gann answers. [You, Clark, Lois, Mr. and Mrs.—I mean, Ma and Pa, Wolf, and, well…] M’gann wavers on her already hovering feet. [That… doesn’t leave much room for me.]

[Do babies eat pie?] Conner blurts into the link before more assuring thoughts can form.

M’gann blinks at him. [Oh–] Her hand swings at the side of her head. [Hel-lo, Megan!]

“Those shoes aren’t stuck in the mud after all, are they?” Ma calls out from halfway up the yard, eyes going from M’gann to Conner. She gives Conner an expectant smile and nod before turning back around.

She saw that, Conner thinks–or not. Doesn’t matter. [C’mon,] Conner says, grabbing M’gann’s hand and pulling her forward. M’gann lets out an oh! as her heels click together in the air. Earth squishes and squeaks under his rubber soles; a few steps in, and two more footfalls join his, padding down softly into the grass. A flit of red at the corner of his vision tells Conner that M’gann has shrunk—or at least, that her shoes have. White heels shifted to white sneakers follow close behind his black boots. He looks up again and meets M’gann’s eyes where he’s used to them, several inches lower than they were seconds before.

[You're shorter.]

M’gann smiles at Conner meekly. [Well, Ma was right. There’s a reason I gave up on heels on missions pretty quickly. They work out a lot better in my head than they do on my feet!] Blushing, she tucks hair behind her ear with her free hand. [And this… is a mission… right?]

[Uh, right,] Conner responds. He squeezes M’gann’s hand–he hasn’t let go, but he can if he has to. When he has to. When she wants him to.

M’gann squeezes back, her fingers curling around his thumb.

A smile twitches onto Conner’s lips. M’gann keeps her eyes out ahead on their target, but an easy smile rests lightly on her lips, and through the pull of their joined hands, Conner feels the hint of a skip in her step. She glances back up at him from her right height and shrugs her shoulders, breathing out a laugh.

[So far, I’d say it’s the best mission we’ve had in a while,] M’gann says jovially, [though I… can’t help but feel I’m not properly suited up.]

Conner feels his smile flatline but stop short of a frown. [I said you look nice.]

[I-I know, but…] The hem of M’gann’s skirt stretches past her knees and down her calves, splitting and separating into two pant legs that dye themselves a faded blue and cling closer to her legs. Her now-shirt dims the shine of its fabric, untucks itself from her new jeans, and loses its throat button, leaving its collar hanging looser around her neck. M’gann slips her hand out of Conner’s hold to unbutton the cuffs of her sleeves manually and roll them up to her elbows. [There,] she says, tugging the end of her shirt down over her hips.

The porch’s wooden steps announce Ma’s ascent with three slow, precise clunks; the contents of the bag slide around and crackle.  Conner’s hand hovers empty at his side as he continues to walk. [You didn’t have to do that,] he tells M’gann, hearing the pout in his own mental voice as his eyes dart off to distant trees.

M’gann slips her fingers right back into his hand. [I… just don’t like feeling like I look out of place.]

Conner slows to a stop at the base of the porch steps. M’gann halts at his side. Conner squeezes her hand tighter, feeling it solid in his grip, taking his hold to the verge of beating her pulse back into his own hot palm, but knowing too tight, and slackening his grip enough to keep from reaching that point. [You’re not out of place,] he growls at her through the link, gritting his teeth outside it. [So stop it.]

[R-right, sorry.] M’gann runs the pad of her thumb over the knuckle of his. [I… promised, after all.] She flashes a disarming smile at him and moves past him to the steps, pulling him forward. [C’mon!]

Conner frowns but follows her up. [I just did this same thing to you.]

[And you had the right idea!] M’gann responds, smiling back at him over her shrugging shoulder.

Ma waits in the doorway, holding the screen door open for them; she gives them both an approving nod and quick humming laugh, then proceeds inside, gesturing them in and releasing the door for one of them to catch.

Conner and M’gann’s hands break apart. M’gann has the advantage of starting several inches ahead of him, but Conner closes the gap quickly, boots booming against the wooden planks below them. Both his arm and hers reach out. She could cheat at least two ways, maybe three–telekinesis on him or the door, stretching her form out of its default bounds–her grunt and gasp as she rushes at his side betrays normal human effort, and Conner’s arm stretches out naturally past hers, reaching up over her head. His fingers touch down into the door’s wire netting. M’gann scoffs, but as she turns to meet his eyes, her face is all grin.

Still holding the door, Conner shrugs and smirks back at her. [After you.]

M’gann rolls her eyes and ducks under his arm. The soles of her shoes scratch against the welcome mat as she wipes them clean.  As she passes through into the doorway, she turns and pokes Conner’s side. [Boop.]

Conner flinches, momentarily losing the door but catching it just before it shuts with him outside it. [Hey.]

M’gann giggles, tucks her hands behind her back as if to hide them, then pivots to show them innocently woven together at the base of her spine. She spins back around to face him, hair lightly gusting off her shoulder in a sunny wave. [Couldn’t resist,] she says as she steps backward from the door.

Conner kicks clumps of mud off his own rubber soles and enters behind her. [You know, when it’s not just ‘cuz you’re under pressure,] he says as he turns to latch the screen door back behind him, [I kinda like that you’re shorter.]

[Oh, atmospheric pressure or otherwise?] M’gann says slyly. Out of the corner of his eye, Conner watches her back into Wolf. “Ooh, sorry,” she whispers aloud, hand going to Wolf’s fur; Wolf doesn’t acknowledge her, just keeps his body and mind trained on the pie at the center of the kitchen table.  [And why’s that?] M’gann continues over the link.

Conner turns back around to face her. [It’s cute,] he says simply.

M’gann half-gasps, half-snorts, and smothers her face in her hands. [Con-ner,] she says as her eyes peek out from between her fingertips, her snickering breath muffled yet echoing in her hands. [You’re going to blow our cover saying things like that.]

[Fine,] Conner responds, rolling his eyes and placing his hands on his hips. [But I’m not taking it back.]

His eyes graze the white speckled ceiling. Cobwebs above his head hang tantalizingly low, like he could keep his feet to the floor and still pull them down–on a reach disguised as a stretch, he tries for one and misses, then shrugs. His eyes need adjusting from the Watchtower’s tall, hazy voids, he figures, and he was just in the sky. Checkered curtains rise and fall, breathe at the edges of the open window above the sink. The refrigerator stands humming in its corner, magnets faintly rattling against its outer surface.

“Oh!”

Conner’s eyes snap to M’gann with their own magnet pull. M’gann holds a hand over her mouth, but her eyes and cheeks give away her smile as she starts towards him. [Is that what I think it is?]

Conner furrows his brow as she passes right by him. [Is what what you think what is?]

M’gann approaches the refrigerator with reverant caution, eyes trained on an askew photo that her hands slowly hover closer toward. With the tips of two fingers lightly touching down on the bottom corners of its white border, she nudges the photo back straight. [Talk about cute–I can’t believe I hadn’t asked to actually see him before now! Hel-lo, Megan!]

Her fingers leave the frame around the picture: dark strings of hair hanging around Lois's smiling face, and in her arms–

Conner’s phone hangs in his pocket like a brick against his hip. His hand runs on reflex over its rectangular form. The same photo sits in his messages. He’s seen it before. Once.

[Yeah, well, that’s what we’re here for, isn’t it,] he mutters back at M’gann over the link.

“...Tuckered him right out,” Ma’s voice sighs into Conner’s ears. Pat-pat. A soft shuffle. The crackle of a snore cuts a mental picture into relief–Ma’s hand shakes Pa’s shoulder. A tsk leaves her teeth.

“...He has that effect on people, just ask Clark,” Lois’s voice chimes in next. “He’s been a quick study in the art of the dad nap.”

“Once he’s asleep, I can’t move, Lois,” Superman’s voice winces out, barely above a whisper.

“And that only applies after dinner when there’s dishes in the sink and not at three A.M. when there’s a cat stuck in a tree,” Lois answers back. “Even I can hear you whoosh.”

Ma yelps out a laugh.

M’gann snickers. Conner shoots her a look, keeping his thoughts silent. What kind of look, he isn’t sure, but M’gann pinches her mouth into a coy smile and shrugs her shoulders.

[I know I’m eavesdropping. Are you?]

[Uh, yeah,] Conner fumbles out in response. [Eavesdropping. Call it… recon work.]

[Oh, right, because this is a mission!] M’gann responds, voice eager and earnest.

A ripple from the living room wrests Conner’s attention away again: paper walls and crackling tissue settling with a soft thud. His head skips voices and goes straight to heartbeats, one, two, three, four–five, but a different kind of resonance, a smaller chest–

[Well, Ma’s not stingy with her helping sizes, so this one pie? Is not for seven,] M’gann’s voice chimes back into his head. [There’s my recon work.] Out loud, she giggles lightly. [So I guess it’s you, me, and the proud new parents! And of course, the–]

[Don’t–]

Conner’s eyes sting. Air chills his bared teeth. A fist hits the inside of his chest and yanks his heart down. M’gann’s eyes widen at him, her lips parting in a small, whispered gasp.

[Don’t…]  Conner pins his stare to crumbs on the tablecloth instead. His own breath turns too loud in his ears, the red center of his chest throbbing into view. [...Say it. I already know.]

The son of Superman.

Wolf’s white tail swishes at one edge of his vision–chair legs tip up and slide back gently at the other, replaced by M’gann’s blue knees and white sneakers. Her Megan Morse hands fold in her lap.

[Conner, I… understand this may not be the best time, but…]

The frame of the living room sofa creaks. Footfalls hit like muffled breaths against the rug.

[Do you… want to talk about how you feel about all this?]

Conner’s breath hitches in his throat. M’gann looks up at him with soft eyes and a firmly shut mouth, holding her expression determinedly, transparently neutral–he can hear the elevation of her heart rate. Tension flashes for a moment in the center of her brow, worry lines popping into view under her bangs.

[No,] Conner answers her, darting his eyes away this time to the pot rack hanging from the ceiling. Wood rungs and thin chains keep cast iron from crashing into the counter, keep the whole row of skillets cheating gravity. Dangling weights, ready to fall. Any moment–

[–I know it’s a little late, but… well…]

[Well what?] Conner snaps back at M'gann, immediately sending her heart banging against his own ears.

Any moment–

[...No, I’m sorr–ex… cuse me, I mean. I’m… pushing, and that’s… not appropriate.] M'gann waves her hand as if trying to kill a flame, or at least chase away smoke. Hide it. Mask it. Her heart edges towards panic; she bites her lower lip dark and shakes her head. [Never mind. Really.]

[No,] Conner growls. Stop, he thinks below the link. [Answer it.] Please. [You asked. You can't take it back.]  Don’t let me do this. [What's wrong with me?]

[N-nothing's wrong with you!]  The words start in M’gann’s throat. A sound like a whimper leaves her mouth before she clamps it shut, draws her lips in tight. [I just–you just–seem a little tense, and…] Her eyes start to blink fast. [And if I could help, then I–but I don't think I–]

Can.

[–Am. Or, should try if I’m just making it worse–]

“–Earth to Kon and Megan!”

M’gann jumps up from her seat with a yelp. Conner’s hands rise on reflex; M'gann bounces against his palms like something light and plastic. If she falls, he doesn’t hear.

Lois hums and smirks in the doorway, hand on her hip. Another face hangs near her shoulder, eyes big and blue, mouth round and wet-looking–a small, grasping hand barely hooks a finger into the face’s lower lip before slipping, leaving saliva trailing down the bump and wrinkle of the chin below. Short strands of dark hair sprout in a thin patch just above a broad yet tiny forehead.

Him. The son of Superman.

The son of Superman is a baby.

“Kon-El, M’gann M’orzz, I’d like you to meet Jon-El.”

Superman takes his place beside his son. Jon-El turns and grabs for Superman’s shirt collar, pulling at the plaid. Superman wraps an arm around Lois’s shoulders, bringing her and Jon-El closer to him. With his free hand, he adjusts his slipping glasses. “Or, Jonathan Kent. Junior, that is.”

Lois scoffs and rolls her eyes to the ceiling. “For the last time, Clark, it resets if you skip a generation!”

“I know,” Superman responds, smiling and shrugging. “But I still like to say it.”

[Re… member when Uncle J’onn–um.] M’gann hmms to herself, quietly but still aloud. [N-never, never mind,] she mutters psychically. “Nice to meet you, Jon Kent!” M’gann then cheers aloud, waving at Jon.

Jon lets out some sound between a hiccup and a gasp and stretches his tiny arm out toward the both of them, her and Conner.

M’gann giggles. Her elbow bumps Conner’s arm as her hand drops back to her side. Its closeness to his puts out warmth–a chill then grazes Conner’s knuckles as her hand swings behind her back.

“We call him Jonny,” Lois corrects her. “For one thing, it makes for better baby talk.” She hefts Jonny up higher on her shoulder and purses her lips. “Doesn’t it, little Jonny baby?”

Jonny doesn’t look at Lois, just keeps reaching for them–for him–smacking his lips, grunting, kicking his doughy, dimpled legs at Lois’s chest. His pink face puffs and wrinkles in distress.

“That usually gets a reaction, I swear.” Lois gives Jonny a gentle jostle in her arms. “Kid, I don’t employ the voice lightly. Meet me halfway here.”

Superman chuckles–a deep, distant sound echoing from too far up, too high in the sky. Solid, empty blue stretches out to nowhere. The sun overhead shines too bright, too white–

[–Um, Conner?]

Conner blinks the sun out of his eyes. The window at his back whispers hints of the four walls and ceiling he still stands surrounded by, contained in–Superman meets his eyes, bright blue turning sharp, and Conner’s heart beats inside-out of his chest, pounding off of every surface–

M’gann’s fingers brush against the inside of Conner’s palm. [You haven’t… said anything.]

Conner’s breath catches in his throat. His eyes dart to nothing. The screen door. M’gann’s white shoelaces. “He’s, uh…” He swallows, closing his hand around air and his own fingers. “He’s…”  Something. Say something. “Cute.”

Superman–Kal–smiles at him. A short, small sigh of relief passes through Conner’s ears–not from M’gann, and if from himself, he didn’t feel it leave him. The sight of Kal’s pursed lips gives a hint, starts to align with the sound in Conner’s head–

Jonny’s lips pop and curl into a perfect O; he twists and flops himself back toward Superman, small hands slip-sliding against his sleeve. “Ah-ghh-hh!” he cries out.

Wrong. A chill rushes over Conner’s skin. I said it, and it was wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong–

Lois lets out a long sputter and passes Jonny smoothly from her arms to Superman's; her now-free hands slap over her still-protruding stomach as she throws her head back and laughs. Superman brings Jonny to the center of his chest–his one hand covers Jonny’s whole back. Two hearts beat close, the smaller one a perfect echo of the other. “Oh?” Superman says, glasses sliding to the tip of his nose as he smiles down at Jonny. “Is that a question?”

Lois’s laughter fades into an amused hum.  “He wants to know how Daddy’s voice came out of someone else.”

Conner feels his throat close shut. His mind puts up glass.

“O-or maybe he–” M’gann feels for Conner’s wrist. “Maybe he doesn’t like being called ‘cute’!” Her hand wraps around his wrist, squeezes it, and lets go. The sound of her gasping then hits Conner’s ear, and her fingertips are back against the inside of his arm. “N-not that… he, um… has anything to say about it, because… whether he likes it or not, he’s a cutie!” She finds his wrist again. [Conner, you know Lois just means that Jonny’s limited frame of reference is–]

[–Stop it.] Conner curls his hand into a fist before M’gann can slip her fingers in, and squeezes it hard enough that the throbbing in his chest starts an echo through his knuckles. [Just stop.]

[O-okay.] M’gann’s touch leaves him–physically. [Understood.]

Understood, Conner repeats back to himself. A growl threatens to escape from behind his clenched teeth. No. At his side and hers, her hand is already gone, withdrawn behind her back. Don’t understand. I don’t want this to make sense. I’m not supposed to feel like–

“–Hm, hear that, Jonny?” Lois coos as she pinches Jonny’s hand between her thumb and forefinger. “Girls already think you’re cute.” She moves Jonny’s hand back and forth until he squeaks and babbles out a giggle. “God, I’m such a sap for this kid already. All it took was one look to forgive nine months of backache and heartburn.” She gestures for Superman to hand Jonny back, then presses Jonny back against her shoulder. Jonny stares up at her small glinting earring only for a moment, then, hand in his mouth, his eyes fall back on Conner.

Fine, Conner thinks at him, to himself–stamps into his brain like a fist coming down on something solid, firm. I get it. A burning starts behind his eyes; he swallows and thinks of ice. Snow. Blank white light. There’s nothing to get, he chides himself. You’re you, I’m me. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t mean anything.

[...Conner?]

Conner jolts at M’gann’s voice in his head. Her eyes are soft and knowing as he meets them; she sighs, and her brow creases with concern. With pity.

[You heard that?] Conner snaps at her accusingly, feeling his face twist into a glare–the anger in his head recoils into a pang of guilt in the pit of his stomach. Of course she heard that, he’s the one that wanted her to–

[I–felt something,] M’gann responds, audibly swallowing as she bites her lips out of view. [Not specific–I can tune out most underlying thoughts, no matter how loud–our Team link would get too distracting during a fight otherwise,] she reminds him, [but–what I felt–didn’t… feel… good.] She squirms in place, shoulders tensing and hands wrenching behind her back. [Do you… want an excuse to step out for a moment? I could manage something.] Her mouth curls into an unconvincing smirk. [Like, I left my purse in Sphere? Or, no, something better, like maybe–]

“Are they…” Superman’s voice rasps against Conner’s ear.

Conner’s eyes rip away from M’gann to Superman. Superman leans down, face half-masked behind Lois’s head. Lois’s eyes roll as she raises an eyebrow. “Isn’t it obvious?” she mutters back at Superman.

M’gann’s breath hitches, pulling Conner’s eyes back to her.

[Are they onto us?] Her heartrate spikes. [Should I disconnect the–]

[–No.]

[“No”?!]

Superman clears his throat. “Well, now that we’re all here, how about we help ourselves?” Wood screeches against wood as Superman pulls a chair out from the table. “After you,” he says to Lois, gesturing for her to sit.

“Oh, after me, he says,” Lois says as she takes her seat; Jonny wobbles with the shift in elevation, his small, wide eyes to the floor as he pulls at Lois’s shirt. “I didn’t need super-sight to see you sneak a piece of crust, Clark Kent.”

M’gann huffs at Conner’s side, her hand ghosting past his as she brings it to her chest and wrings at her collar. [We–need to sit down, too, or else we’ll look suspicious.]

[Yeah, I know that,] Conner responds, biting his tongue the moment he finishes the thought. M’gann turns away before he can see any reaction, any shift in her expression–but with a subtle gesture under the table, as she takes her own seat, she telekinetically pushes his chair out for him.

A sigh escapes Conner’s clenched teeth and tight throat. He takes the seat. An unreadable smile waits for him on M’gann’s face–she doesn’t meet his eyes, just stares straight ahead. Conner peers down at the neatly-folded hands lying statue-still in her lap. Another sigh escapes him; wrists against the edge of the table, he lets his hands curl into fists.

“Are… we sure he’s okay around kids?”

Conner’s fists drop to his sides. In his mind, the table splits in two, buckles and caves in, splinters sticking to sweat on his skin and pattering down with crumbs and dust to the floor. Nothing real–the red checkered tablecloth leads his eyes down endless pathways in its flat, intact surface.

All the same, M’gann gasps, and the panic in her heart sends a shot through his own. His eyes snap to her face–eyes wide, and lips curled open in apprehension, she meets his eyes and nods back to Lois and Jonny.

And to Wolf, whose wet black nose sniffs at Jonny’s dangling foot. Jonny’s heel makes impact with Wolf’s nose, causing Wolf to step back and sneeze a loud har-umph sound. Front paw padding at the floor, Wolf tilts his head at Jonny and whines. Jonny blinks at Wolf for a moment, then pops his mouth open like a bubble to let out a squeal of happiness, one that makes his arms and legs and whole body wiggle with glee.

[Great, he’s a little sadist,] Conner thinks, pressing sarcasm into his thoughts like ice against a wound.

M’gann snorts then slaps a hand over her mouth. Snickering escapes her pinched-shut nostrils–she coughs a shallow cough into her palm and then into her fist, clearing her throat with a verbalized "hm-hmm!" before ducking her head and tucking hair behind her ear. Lips pressed shut and muffling still-shaking breaths, M'gann meets his eyes from the corner of hers and gives him a quick shrug.

[Are you… laughing at me?] Conner asks her.

[I'm–laughing at your joke!] she responds. [Th-that's all.]

Conner feels his eyebrow rise on reflex. [Who said it was a joke?]

M’gann blinks at him, mouth falling open but lips still curved at the corners in a smile. Conner’s own mouth tugs itself into something like a smirk–M’gann flashes a grin at him, and the tension in his jaw relaxes, letting his smirk settle into a smile.

“...I’m sure Kon-El and M’gann wouldn’t have brought him otherwise,” Kal says, his hand running over the top of Wolf’s head. Wolf twitches his ears at the touch, then lets out a soft, low grunt as he sits, facing himself away from Jonny and back towards the pie.

[Oh, hel-lo, Megan.] M’gann rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “O-of course!” She claps her hands and bounces in her seat. “Wolf is great around kids. When we brought Garfield in, he was…”

The silence of her pause broadcasts the skipped beat in her pulse loud and clear. Conner watches her breathe deep and press the quiver out of her lower lip with a smile.

“He was great!” She breathes a laugh. “Nothing but gentle. Really, just… perfect… company. Part of the family, really! Which is… all anyone could ask for.”

Conner’s eyes follow her hands as they fall back to her lap. The scratching of her nails as her fingers curl against her denim-clad thighs flicks like matchsticks at the edges of his hearing.

[You really miss him, huh,] Conner thinks to her.

M’gann sighs quietly through her smile. [Of course.]

[And you’re just never going to talk about it.]

M’gann swallows. [This isn’t about me.]

“Oh, M’gann, that reminds me,” Lois says, waving her hand across the table. Jonny grunts and reaches for her arm as it moves. “I meant to say sooner–you don’t have to hide yourself for Jonny’s sake! I figure knowing our lives, the sooner he sees his first green person, the better.”

“Oh!” M’gann’s cheeks turn pink instead of green. “I, um…”

The memory of her gray-flushed cheeks burns like ash in Conner’s mind, her bloodshot red, darkly circled eyes flooded with tears as they looked into his, looked for help–

–The feet of Conner’s chair groan against the floor, but digging in his heels, he makes himself still again. His hands grip his section of tabletop only at the very edge, fingertips pinching at slippery cloth covering solid wood. His mind feeds him splinters again; he swallows down the thought. [You can’t?]

[Oh, no, it’s not that!] M’gann answers back, eagerly–and openly–waving her hand in dismissal. [It–it’s not anything, it’s nothing, nothing to it.] She stretches her arms out across the table for display, angling them away from the warm pie still untouched at the center of it.

“Oh, I don’t know, Lois,” Kal then says, his own chair creaking as he slides it back and stands. “Us Kryptonians have a funny relationship with the color green.” He shoots a wink down at Conner.

All Conner can do is blink at him. Us Kryptonians. It's a joke–not that part. He’s joking–laugh.

Superman coughs into his fist before Conner can react; his other hand reaches for the pie. “I’ll, uh, take that pie to go,” he says, lifting it delicately from the tablecloth–edges still crumbling–and moving it to the counter space beside the stove. “Over, uh, here, that is.”

M’gann breathes a tiny laugh at Conner’s side. Her outstretched fingers, lingering in human guise, flutter with joy or nerves–he can’t tell. [I don’t think I’ll ever get over how Superman’s sense of humor makes a fifteen-year-old Wally seem subtle and smooth.]

[...Right,] Conner manages to think back at her. His eyes peer past both her and Superman, pinning themselves to Wolf instead. Wolf parks himself at the counter, back straight and ears forward, as if waiting for the pie itself to tell him he can eat it. Only a short, shallow grumble from the top of his throat betrays his impatience; other than that, under Wolf’s watchful eye, the pie is as good as guarded.

It doesn’t need guarding, unless at any moment, a whir of yellow-and-red slams the screen door open.

Unless at any moment, he comes back–

[–If that’s… okay to say,] M’gann adds, the flutter leaving her fingertips to beat audibly inside her chest instead.

Conner’s own chest tightens. [Just do it.]

[R-right.] M’gann’s open fingers flex into fists. Her hands relax, and the line of green rises up her skin like her body sinking into invisible water, arms first, then neck and face.

She’s submerged.

Conner blinks. Green freckles dot his vision like the tapping of her voice in his ears from her externalized giggle. She’s M’gann. She’s what she always is.

One night, and it already looks wrong, somehow.

A yelp from the other side of the table pulls Conner’s eyes away from her. Jonny wriggles like a sea-plucked fish in Lois’s grasp, mouth and eyes wide open, just with limbs instead of fins to flap around at air. With gritted teeth, Lois leans in with him toward the surface of the table, both of her arms locked tight around his tiny torso–Superman slaps a hand over his own stomach and echoes out a laugh, pots and pans ringing with his voice.

“If our son falls and hits his head, you’ll wish you never told me about kryptonite,” Lois hisses back at him.

Kryptonite, Conner repeats in his head. Funny relationship with the color green. He gets it now. His lips twitch, but no laugh comes. Kal chuckles and leans over Lois from behind as if blocking her from an attack, hands cusping Jonny’s sides, hooking into his underarms–a second later, Jonny is floating inches above the table and flying to M’gann.

Why can you–oh. Cause and effect catch up to Conner’s thoughts as Superman’s hands take Jonny on a momentary detour, a soft swerve to the side before weaving him back on course. Superman’s lips thrum out an accompanying propeller noise. Jonny’s lips sputter, drops of saliva visibly falling on the tablecloth and M’gann’s skin.

Conner feels his face curl in disgust, then remembers: baby. What–who–he’s looking at it is a baby.

"Clark!" Lois whisper-barks.

"Oh, uhm." Clark turns Jonny around in his hands, putting Jonny's head against his shoulder and leaning in with him, kneeling to the floor. "Right."

"Oh!"  M'gann's hands flail up in defense as Clark tips his armful of Jonny towards her. "I, um–really, that's–I-I don't think I–"

–Jonny taps the tip of one flailing green finger, and M'gann's hands go still. Jonny gasps, or simply states his acknowledgment–whatever the loud, flat ah that escapes his mouth is supposed to mean–then touches her again, this time open-palmed, more than once, and hard. The impacts against the back of her hand hit Conner’s ears as faint pattering, but Jonny’s grunts of effort are clear, just like the tension and release of his tiny arms’ gestures. Rrht-tht-tht-thih-trr-trr-trr–

Conner starts to growl.

M’gann’s voice flutters through his head in a giggle, both in his ears and in his mind. “That tickles!” she exclaims, gently pulling back her hand to then reach for Jonny’s hand instead. She holds his palm between her green thumb and forefinger, giving him a tiny handshake. “Nice to meet you, Jonny!”

Conner watches Jonny’s fingers wrap around her thumb. No crackle, no pulsation–its shade of green doesn’t darken. Conner huffs and then lets his eyes stray to a seam between boards in the floor’s wood paneling. [You already said that,] he thinks to M’gann.

M’gann doesn’t respond. Conner looks back to find her still shaking Jonny’s hand, side-to-side now instead of up-and-down, and the motion slowing. Her eyes are on him.

So are Superman’s.

[Are you… jealous?] M'gann asks.

Immediately, Conner scoffs. [Of a baby?] he responds. His eyes dart back to their safe spot. “Does he even know what green is?” he snaps aloud, addressing no one in particular–the void answers him back with the echo of his own tone and of one, two elevated heartbeats. “I-I mean at this point, y’know, age-wise,” he adds, swallowing.

“He… may not know the word for it yet,” Kal responds, voice low and raspy with warmth as it breaks the silence.  Jonny floats up and away as Kal stands. “But he knows when… encountering something new…” Kal props Jonny up to his shoulder, putting them face-to-face, and smiles at him. “...Makes him happy.”

Not the sun–the moon–hole in his suit letting air on his skin–Superman–me, too–lifting the flap of his torn suit, showing what they put there, what they made–him–Superman's eyes widening–Superman glaring, not heat vision–cold–

[–Conner?] M'gann's voice blips into his head.

Conner stares, feeling his chest turn empty–trying to will it so, taking the hard, hurting heartbeat at his core and twisting it in his mind to just whistling air, to a soft but steady rush through this moment to the next, where he won’t still be feeling like this–

[–Conner? Are you–]

[–No.] He says it to himself as much as to her as he squeezes his eyes shut, makes the world go solid black for a moment before the heat building inside his head comes out. No stinging, no blurring. Nothing. No. [Don’t ask,] he says as his eyes open back up to fading static, and he drops them to the tablecloth before they can catch sight of anyone’s face, M’gann’s, Superman’s, Lois’s, or Jonny’s.

“Now, this is some silly sight, isn’t it, boy?” slips Ma’s voice into the room–no footfalls first, like she could fly, too–like Superman carried her in, like telekinesis–like he wasn’t listening, and that’s why he didn’t hear, that’s all, Conner chides himself, gritting his teeth. Wolf’s thumping tail is harder to miss as Ma rubs circles into the top of his head. “A pie left cold on the counter, and it looks like they’ve barely got through saying hello,” she says, addressing Wolf, but with voice and eyebrow raised.

“We’re just, um, taking it… slow,” Clark fumbles out. His hand bounces Jonny lightly in place against his chest. Jonny fills both his hands with folds of Clark’s shirt and pulls himself up to peer over Clark’s shoulder at Ma. Lois’s breath hitches, her human eyes momentarily threatening heat vision. “Despite how this... little one likes to move,” Clark adds, pulling Jonny back down. “And I could always heat the pie!”

Ma doesn’t glare, but she does shake her head. “Get that baby into one of their arms before I have to do it myself!”

Conner’s arms go stiff and cold; M’gann’s green arms slide and thump under the table. Conner furrows his brow down at her lap. M’gann breathes a nervous giggle and pulls her arms back into view, setting her crossed wrists and curled fists at the table’s edge. [Right,] she thinks to him, a would-be smile failing as she draws her lips in tight. [But it shouldn’t be me.]

[What’d’you mean?] his mind yelps back at hers without forethought. The slip sets his heart pumping with adrenaline, strength to patch over the weakness. But too much–a tremor starts in both wrists. He sets his powder-keg fists in his lap and swallows, clears his throat aloud in a thin, inward growl. [He likes you,] he manages to project to her in a strained, but even tone.

[I’m sure he'll like you, too!] M’gann’s mental voice flutters back at him.  Her lips rub together and pop back out as a chewed, raw red, but they fall into gentle curves all the same. [After all, why wouldn’t he?] she adds, a soft sigh reaching Conner’s ears. [What’s not to lo–I mean, like, of course.]

Conner sees the warmth in her face–like staring at the sun, it just makes his eyes sting. He thinks of ice instead. [He doesn’t know me.]

“Let me just go check my film,” Ma calls out from the counter. “So expensive these days. And you know they don’t make it to last,” she mutters as she leaves the room, voice tapering out.

“Did you freeze it, Ma?” Superman–Clark calls back to her, holding Jonny still now at his shoulder as Lois slides her chair back. “Jimmy says if you store film in the freezer, you can extend its shelf life. Over sixteen years, even.”

“My baby. Gimme,” Lois half-whispers, flicking her hands impatiently as she approaches Clark from behind. Clark and Jonny both mouth a silent oh, and Clark starts to guide Jonny up over his shoulder. Lois frowns, clears her throat, and taps her finger against Clark’s shoulder, then gestures for Clark to turn around.

“With my cold cuts and veggies?!” Ma yelps from the living room. Pa snorts and grunts in his sleep at the sound. Ma's laughter quickly fades into a rasping chuckle, and then the low grinding sound of Pa's snoring resumes.

The feet of M’gann’s chair graze Conner’s hearing like a skid through sand as she stands. [He doesn’t–know me either, Conner, he just… likes that I can change colors.]  She shakes her head and taps the back of Conner’s chair encouragingly, leaving her fingertips pressed into the panel of wood just below the base of his neck. [Besides, that’s the whole point of today, isn’t it? For him to get to know you, and for you to get to know him!]

The almost-touch of her hand sends a chill down Conner’s spine and a twitch through his shoulders. He slides his chair back to shake her off. [Nothin’ to know.] The floor accepts his feet, and his feet accept his weight. He stares down into his own shadow, eyes skirting the edge of the tablecloth. His back goes as stiff as the back of his chair, something hard and built to hold him. The air in his chest becomes a breeze again, blowing through a hollow chamber, heart tight enough to be still. [I mean, him,] Conner adds, shaking his head down at checkers and shadows and wood knots and seams, the ceiling suddenly right at his eyeline. He blinks to force the edges of his vision to unblur.  [Nothin’ to know. He’s a baby.]

M’gann’s fingers touch down in the center of his back but immediately curl, nails and knuckles sliding over and off of him. “Mmn–” The sound leaves her throat, cut off by a half-gasp, half-seethe, as if she’d been cut. Her breath shakes before a sigh, and out of the corner of his eye, Conner watches her hands lock together behind her back.

I…I think I do know what happened, her voice echoes in his head from mere hours ago.

Conner stares at her hands and growls. One hand breaks from its grip around the other to cover her mouth as she clears her throat, then it snaps back into place.

So now I can never touch you again? his own voice echoes back.

M’gann’s feet slide a step away from him. [I’m–sorry.]

O-okay, M’gann’s mind shook out at him just moments ago, her hand leaving his freshly-curled fist. Understood.

Stop it, he’d said, forming that fist. Just stop.

He says nothing now, just huffs the steam out of his head. Fire still prickles in his cheeks and in his chest, down to the bone. It needs to die before he can meet her eyes again. Anger would make sense. Anger at her, or something else, or anything. Anything instead of too much and everything and nothing. The fire nicks at his bones like a blade against stone.

[But… that’s just it, of course,] M’gann’s voice offers now, nerves tingling at the edges of her presence in his mind. [He is a baby. He’s your baby–]

[–He’s not my baby brother,] Conner snaps, pinning his eyes to hers. Something has to give. Something has to prove how wrong this is, how wrong everything in his head is. [Don’t make this about Gar.]

M'gann jumps back another step, sneaker soles thumping hard against the floor. [I-I know he’s not–] Her green cheeks flush darker, turn red under her freckles. [I-I-I’m sorry, I’m making this about Gar? You’re the one who keeps–] She huffs, eyes watery as they dart to the floor. [N-no, actually–] She locks eyes with him again, brow furrowed and mouth pressed shut tight. [How would me making this about Gar mean I wouldn’t want to hold Jonny?]

[Because you think you deserved to lose him, too,] Conner says, letting his hands at his sides form the fists they want to make. [You think it’s better, safer for him not to be around you, don't you.] His own heels thudding against the floor, Conner closes the gap between himself and her. [When’s the last time you even talked to him?]

M'gann gasps aloud at him, and the link goes thin between them, becomes a trembling wire pulled too taut.  [It–just–I–he–any child in his situation needs time to process–] M’gann’s hands curl at her sides, too, and Conner can feel a wall rising, thickening between his thoughts and hers–but her teeth slip through as a sharp cut of white against the green of her face and her eyes stay bared into his, holding his stare.

Both her heart and his own pound inside his head. He glares back into her face and sees himself.

Then in a breath, M’gann’s face shifts. Every edge turns soft again, hazes over as if from distance. The only sharpness in her eyes is light, and she blinks it back dull, lashes fluttering as she sighs. [I will always be there for Gar if he needs me, Conner, I–I always…] Her gaze drifts to the side, off to nothing. [Want to be there, if I’m needed. But for me to be the one to reach out first? Would be i-intrusive a-and inappropri–]

[–Knew it,] Conner says, crossing his arms and turning his back to her.

[C-Conner!]

“Can you… trust me?” she’d asked with her head pressed into his. “I know that I’m needed, Conner. I know that I have a responsibility to not give up. I know what it does, losing someone–”

['If' you’re needed,] he scoffs back at her now.

[What?] M’gann exclaims, mental voice wrought high and breathless. [Conner, please, this isn’t about me!]

“Okay, now this is too much.”

Conner jolts, arms dropping back to his sides. Lois props Jonny up against her shoulder and puts her free hand to her hip, rolling her eyes. “I let you off the hook for some of it because it’s cute,” she says lowly, her tone as threatening as it is furtive, “but as a journalist, nothing offends me more than a public display of privacy.” She holds out a hand between Conner and M’gann and snaps her fingers twice, like she’s breaking up a schoolyard fight. “Knock it off, or I tell Ma. And you know her rule.” Her eyes fix on Conner’s; she smirks, then looks to M’gann. “No cell phones and no psychic links at the table.”

Conner tries to swallow–there’s no spit and no air. Past Lois’s head and over Jonny’s, Superman’s eyes are on him. “Or I tell Ma”–not him–he already knows. He knows I’m wrong, Conner’s head feeds itself. He knows I couldn’t do this–

[Conner.]

M’gann’s wide eyes are white in her paled green face, her mouth pressed into a thin red line. She swallows, and even if he couldn’t hear it, the rise of her shoulders betrays one hard, heaving breath. [Conner, this is about me.]

Conner’s throat fills with a lump of nothing; he swallows it down, gritting his teeth, and it drops like a rock into the pit of his stomach. [No.]

[Yes!]  M’gann’s head snaps his way, and red floods into her cheeks. [I’m doing this. And it has to stop.]

On “stop,” the link shuts off like a held breath.

Then with all the urgency of a gasp for air, M’gann immediately reconnects. [We just didn’t talk this through like we should have, a-as much as we should have, and it’s not your fault, b-but–]

[–M’gann–]

[–But if this is a mission, it’s time for a new plan.]

[M’gann, don’t you dare–]

M’gann’s brow furrows resolutely, and Conner’s thoughts hit the wall. Hot air swells and fumes back in on itself, flooding the inside of his skull.

[M’gann!]

“I’m… sorry,” M’gann then says aloud, voice soft and small as it leaves her now-moving lips, and her eyes disconnect from him, too, meeting Lois’s instead. “It’s… all my fault, really,” she says with a smile. “I’m the one that facilitates it.”

Lois smiles back at her amicably but nods at her words. Conner bites back a growl. He pushes at the closed gap left at the edge of his consciousness, feels for her mental fingerprints with his own mental fingers. [I’m the one that asked you. This isn’t about you.] The trail starts to fade–he just thinks louder. [M’gann. I know you. You’re going to use this against yourself. Just like you keep–]

“We… just… haven’t gotten a lot of sleep the past couple of nights,” M’gann says raspily, punctuating the statement with a satisfied hum.

[What?] Conner gasps–mentally–and his mental touch slips. The trail goes cold. He hovers at the wall, watching M’gann’s eyes droop, and then narrow–wincing with effort, or indecision. The truth hangs right at the edge of her mind. Even without the link, he senses it.

Are you… really going to tell them you’re–

“Missions?” Superman asks as he sets his hand on Lois’s unoccupied shoulder. Wedged now between his parents, Jonny tilts his head back, mouth gaping open–Superman’s hand tips Jonny’s head back towards Lois, then rests against Jonny’s back. The distraction doesn’t last–Conner looks up, and Superman’s eyes are on him, looking for a response.

At Conner’s side, M’gann hums pensively, then breathes something like a laugh. “More like… training exercises, really,” she lies. “Not the whole Team, just us. You know, reviewing maneuvers…”

Clark and Lois share a look; Lois raises an eyebrow. Clark blinks in astonishment and clears his throat. M’gann chuckles again and nods her head at Conner, looking to him, at him–

–She’s not there behind her eyes. And if she is, her smile isn’t. With only a look, she projects one quick, emphatic please, and then her gaze goes cold again. Her thoughts stay on her side of the wall. The rest of her, she puts up on a screen.

“And so it’s an old Team trick we use to stay awake!” Megan–even in green–claps her hands together and hops in place. “It helps us keep our focus. But we got a little off-focus trying to decide which one of us should get to hold Jonny first.” Her hands go to her hips proudly, her chest jutting out. “I think it should be Conner, but… he’s too generous.” She nods his way, giving him his cue.

Whatever he’s supposed to say, he won’t. He stares at her in silence instead. M’gann’s eyes flicker in acknowledgement, then dart away. Her hands drop to her sides.

“Well, then let’s fix that,” Lois says, scooping Jonny up off her shoulder and out of Superman’s hand. “Here he is.”

Conner’s heart jumps. “Wait, what–”

Tiny fingers touch down into the center of Conner’s chest. They slip over the S-Shield, grasping only once there’s nothing but air to fill them. Jonny ahhps–a gasp, hiccup, or cough–then waves his hand again as if groping through darkness, trying to make sight and reach connect again into touch.

He barely even knows what it means to have a hand. The first thing Conner did–ever did–was make a fist. The second thing was lunge, and make that fist connect with skin, muscle, and bone, trying to break it.

“Head, neck, and bottom,” Lois states, supporting all three with her hands as she pushes all of Jonny into Conner's chest. “Get those, and you’re good. Comes more naturally than you might think. Also, try to keep him close," she adds with an eyeroll in her voice.

"Uh! …Mmmh," M'gann chirps and groans at Conner’s side.

This isn't his first baby. He's held Amistad, Lian–had kids crawling all over him when the world was split along age lines. Conner’s hands drift halfway up from his sides then stop. This isn’t his first baby, but it is his first… Jonny.

Half-human, half-Kryptonian.

You’re you, Conner thinks at him, meeting his eyes. I’m me. It doesn’t mean anything. You’re not–

“Aah-bbb,” Jonny babbles, looking back up at Lois.

Conner makes his shoulders slump, forcing out a sigh. You’re not–wrong. You’re a baby. There’s nothing wrong with you. You’re supposed to, deserve to exist. You don’t even need to hear that. You’re not even thinking like that.

Nodding to himself, swallowing, and firming his brow, Conner holds out his hands. You’re never gonna think like that, he concludes in his head. Not if I have anything to say about it.

Jonny’s soft, heavy head settles into one of Conner’s hands. Jonny’s palm-sized bottom fits into the other. Lois’s hands slip out from under Jonny.

Jonny’s body crackles in Conner’s hands.

Conner’s breath halts. His hands lose all feeling. His skull fills itself with pieces of broken bone. No.

Jonny kicks the feeling back into Conner’s hands with two tiny feet against the inside of Conner’s wrist, and this time, the sound is just the rustling diaper under Jonny’s gown–was already just the diaper, Conner chides himself, pulling air back into his chest just to huff it back out. Jonny bounces on the wave of the breath. Conner brings him up higher, setting Jonny’s side against his sternum.

Jonny’s eyes are wide and blue enough to fit the sky over Smallville into two tiny marbles, excluding only the clouds. He’s skin, muscle, and bone, too, just like Conner–just like any of them here–but beyond that, beyond the heartbeat, breath, and warmth, and deeper than the mind, there’s a soul in Conner’s hands, blinking up at him with those eyes. The body holding that soul is small enough to fit in arms, in hands, to have been carried in a womb, but it–he–will grow; even now, second to second, gravity bears his body down harder and harder on Conner’s chest.

But, someday, he'll fly. Conner can see it in his head. Jonny looks up at him like he can see it, too, in Conner’s head. He knows. His eyes are wide, but calm. He knows what Conner is. Conner knows what he is, too.

Half-Kryptonian, half-human–it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t mean they’re the same. Jonny was made in love, to be loved, to love, and to live.

Conner was made to kill.

Jonny’s neck and spine flex stiff inside Conner’s hands; his mouth strains to open as wide as he can make it go, his wide eyes wrenching shut with effort. Conner’s stomach leaps into his chest–his heart leaps into his throat. Something’s wrong–he’s wrong–

They have to know.

“H-he’s–I’m–”

Jonny stretches his arms straight up into the air and yawns, sighs, smacking his lips. His arms stay reaching for Conner, waving in tiny circles, hands opening and closing. “Aah–bbbbpft,” Jonny says, poking his tongue out through his lips.

“Uh.” Conner’s mouth falls slack. He forces it shut tight; his heart thumps hard enough to echo out of his throat. “I… dunno what… that meant,” he then mutters, knowing it’s stupid, but the words out of his mouth are some other noise besides his heart. Superman can still hear, still knows–Conner squeezes the toes in his boots. His hands are full–he can’t make a fist.

“Hmm,” Kal hums in sincere contemplation, or a good faking of it–he wouldn’t fake it, Conner thinks. He’s Superman. “It sounded almost like… ‘apple’?”

“Or ‘uncle’?” Lois counters. “Nah, couldn’t be, he’s not telepathic.” She blinks and cocks an eyebrow at M’gann. “Unless…”

“Oh, no, I wouldn’t!” M’gann yelps, stumbling backward. Her green hands flail up in defense, and for a moment, the throbbing of her heart drowns out Conner’s own. “That would be intrusive, a-and inappropriate, and–”

“–A joke, M’gann, relax,” Lois laughs. “We trust you here. Trust me, you wouldn’t be here if we didn’t.” She nods her head toward Conner.

Conner furrows his brow. M’gann. Superman could hear it, M’gann could feel it–feel his mind being wrong. At least, if they’d been linked, she couldn’t have missed it. Instead, it’s however strong the wave was–or however open her mind stayed. He felt her shut it tight. She knows how to tune him out.

[M’gann,] Conner tries anyway. If she felt it, then he’ll know: it’s stronger than him–and stronger than her. If she didn’t, then he’ll know: it’s all in his head. It’s nothing.

Either way, he needs to make it stop.

Conner dares a look at M’gann’s face. M’gann gives Lois an uneasy smile and works her nervous fingers into hair at her shoulder. “R-right, of course,” she says, nodding.

[M’gann! ]

M’gann glances his way. Conner holds his breath. M’gann’s lashes flutter at him, then she smiles at him meekly–the smile gains more strength and softness as her eyes trail down his face.

It tells him nothing, except how much he wants that strength and softness in his still-shaky hands. M’gann’s eyes reach Jonny, and she looks how she’s supposed to look. Jonny is a baby. M’gann unhooks her hand from her hair to wave at Jonny and then lets it fall back to her side. She looks back up at Conner, and her smile wavers. Her eyes widen with concern–

–Conner darts his own eyes away. Fine. You know.

Jonny’s hand grasps and slips at Conner’s chin. Conner blinks down at Jonny, feeling his face freeze. Jonny’s cheeks puff out around a fiercely puckered mouth, his baby brow furrowed with determination as his arms keep reaching up. Sorry, Conner thinks at him. You don’t deserve–me. He can’t think it any other way; out loud, he’d try harder to catch himself, make it sound like anything other than exactly what he means. This, he offers to his own thoughts anyway, however half-heartedly. Me being–me, he ends on all the same.

“Aaa–aahgh!”

Jonny slaps his hand flat against Conner’s nose then balls his tiny fist around the tip of it and yanks it down. Conner’s head follows the pull without a thought. Jonny’s fingers still slip off, but with a babbling laugh, he reaches up again to poke his fingers into Conner’s nostrils, scrunching Conner’s nose up from inside. Conner blinks furiously, feeling his eyes water.

Already this strong–

“–Ma, hurry!” Lois calls out, rushing to the living room doorway.

Jonny lets out a satisfied, almost taunting sputter and then brings his hand down to pluck at Conner’s lower lip. On reflex, Conner grits his teeth.

He’s just showing off, Conner then tells himself. Let him show off.

Conner forces his jaw to unlock. Jonny then slaps a hand down over Conner’s mouth.

Okay, now that’s just kinda rude.

“Hey-bbb-bey-bb–” Conner’s voice comes out like a ribbit–Jonny’s hand beats against his lips. Jonny lets out a thunderclap of a squeal, all four limbs wiggling in Conner’s hands with joy.

“I think that sounded like ‘hey, baby,’” Superman says, laughing. “At least, I think Jonny seems to think so.”

“How about ‘cheese!’?”

A half-gasp at Conner’s side hits Conner’s ears seconds before the flash. Squint lines lingering in her face, Ma peers out from behind her camera; over hers, Pa’s, Lois’s, and then Superman’s face, a green-and-purple spot floats its way through Conner’s vision. It fades to white and vanishes.

Ma tsks and shakes her head, but her smile doesn’t leave her face for long before she gestures at M’gann to move in closer.

“Oh, um–cheese?” M’gann whimpers out from an anxious grin, hopping one cheerleader step back over to Conner’s side.

“You’d think I was setting off a firecracker,” Ma mock-scolds M’gann, laughter trailing from her voice as she brings the camera’s viewfinder back up to one eye and squints her other eye shut.

Pa lets out his own chuckle and pats Ma’s shoulder. “Kids these days don’t know what to do when they see one o’ these old dinosaurs.” He shakes his head and slides his hands into the pockets of his overalls. “Not when they’ve got their telephones in their pockets.” He slips his hand back out of one pocket and flips his cellphone open, keeping his eyes on its screen as he tilts it into position at his hip, puckering his lips into a breathy miming of a casual whistle. He glances up at Conner and winks.

Conner nods. A half-smile worms its way into his mouth. M’gann sways at his side, flips hair behind her shoulder. Conner watches her beam a perfect smile back at the oncoming flash, white teeth and curving cheeks, eyes crinkling at the corners. Jonny’s hands softly beat at the tiny drum of his own stomach. He smacks his lips at Conner, eyes narrowing but not focusing. His heartbeat inches towards a slower–still steady–rhythm in Conner’s ears. His body grows lighter and heavier all at once. The prickling from Jonny’s fist around Conner’s nose reaches Conner’s eyes again, even without another touch. It’s sleep–Conner knows that. The twinge in his own chest is neither panic nor adrenaline. Babies get sleepy. The same stupid, obvious thought runs through Conner’s head yet again: Jonny is a baby.

Too many thoughts flood in after it. And he likes me. And I love him. And I don’t want to let him go. And I don’t know what to do.

And I was never a baby.

The first half-flash pulls Conner’s eyes tight.

“Cheese,” M’gann murmurs too quietly at Conner’s side.

The second flash in his eyes strikes white like an impact.

M’gann’s hair brushes against Conner’s shoulder as she tilts her head back away from him, shrugging the flash off with a giggle.

Conner’s eyes sting like splitting skin. His vision quickly trades bruise spots for blurs–he blinks them away. Eyes closed, Jonny pushes his chubby cheek into Conner’s collarbone, immediately dribbling a dark spot into the neck of Conner’s shirt; Jonny settles, but Conner’s breath still shakes him. Conner holds his breath. The twisting, trembling inside doesn’t stop. His throat and brow tighten into something that can’t even be alive, hardening from skin and muscle to only bone.

"Conner."

M’gann breathes it below a whisper. His name barely clicks against the roof of her mouth, but it’s as familiar as a heartbeat, and he hears it.

He blinks, and M’gann’s hand is halfway to his face. There’s too much light in her eyes. He knows her face when she’s on the verge of tears. She knows–

–No. Conner rips his eyes away, wrenching them shut. Weight and heat pool in his lashes. No.

M’gann’s next breath is a gasp.

“Here,” Conner heaves, pushing Jonny’s head into M’gann’s hand and slipping his own hand out from in-between. The rest of Jonny leaves him easily. Conner doesn’t meet M’gann’s eyes again, just waits for an oop! or an oh! of acceptance–he watches M’gann’s green hands press Jonny’s head to her chest, but the only sound she makes is inside her. Jonny’s eyes stay closed against her pounding heart. Already, he can tune it out.

Already, he has more control than–

–Three, almost four days now outside of his pod–crunching, crumbling, the lip smacks, breath–Wally crumples up the bag–he shuts his eyes–the ceiling caving in–he has to control this.

 Fine, Conner thinks now. Good. Good for him. He nods his head at M’gann and Jonny, but he keeps his eyes to the wall.

Wolf's claws click against the floor. He slips his head under and into Conner's hand, pushing it up. Conner keeps it there as Wolf sits. Wolf’s ears twitch around his hand like antenna tuning into a signal.

Right. Yeah. Conner rubs the spaces in front of Wolf's ears. You know, too, don't you, boy. Wolf's eyes stare into him. If only for a moment, Conner locks his world right between those two points, letting his own eyes move only to trace the grain of Wolf's fur. Guess I could be… less obvious. Stealth ops for seven years, you'd think I'd be better than this at… whatever this is.

A mission is what he'd told M'gann. And we don't do those solo, he'd said.

Conner sighs. The wall between his mind and M'gann's stands strong. He feels for gaps, for any weak point; his eyes fall back to the red lip she bites redder as he looks, but he lets them go no higher–and no lower. He just stares. What he'd even say if she could hear him, he's not sure.

Sorry?

Wolf grumbles, brow twitching under Conner’s hand.

Conner’s eyes slip down to Jonny then leave him and M’gann both. For what, inviting you in the first place? Conner thinks at her, to himself sullenly. You needed it, too. Not that that’s why I–Conner shakes his head, then forces it still, realizing he can still be seen. Not the only reason, but fine. Doesn’t matter if it’s helping. He bites his tongue at the thought, even without anyone else having heard it. Helping me or you? His tongue slips, and his mouth is just tension and teeth again, like Jonny’s hand is back on his face. He unclenches his jaw again; his fingers curl tight into the fur between Wolf’s ears. Right. He flattens his hand against Wolf’s head, the curve of Wolf’s brow fitting snugly into his palm. Sorry, he thinks to Wolf. Sorry I keep–thinking like this–

“Okay, promise me this is it.”

Conner jumps–his hand slips from Wolf’s head. Ripples as sharp and as close as his own breath in his ears cut through the air; a metallic sheen flashes like a signal flare in the kitchen light. The blue-and-red bag slides off of Lois’s arm into the center of the table–Conner half-expects the wooden legs beneath it to creak with its weight. With a crackling thwup, it settles.

“Because already, this is too much,” Lois adds, patting the top edge of the bag–loud footsteps, tiny thunderclaps. Gritting his teeth but masking a wince, Conner tunes his hearing back down to voice level. “Seriously, you guys shouldn’t have.”

Maybe I shouldn’t have, but I did, Conner responds in his head, but he quickly shakes away the thought. That’s not what Lois means, he thinks. It couldn’t be. No one knows.

Hand to her hip, Lois turns to give Clark a pointed look.

Clark pushes up his glasses. “For the record, I haven’t peeked.” He raises up his open palm. “Scout’s honor.”

Even x-ray vision wouldn’t show it, Conner thinks.

“You were never an actual Boy Scout,” Lois chides Clark playfully.

Unless he was looking for the flaw, Conner thinks.

“Actually, I was!” Clark responds. “Scout’s honor! But, long story.”

He wouldn’t be.

“God.” Lois bats at the side of Clark’s head and leans her elbow on his shoulder, rests her chin on her arm and hums a smirk at him that Clark returns in kind.

But if there was a flaw, Conner thinks, Superman could see it.

“Uh-um, before we… open presents…” The shakiness in M’gann’s voice pulls Conner’s ears back to her heart, but in spite of its speed, she sways her body in slow, broad sweeps, keeping Jonny’s head against her chest. “I think… this little guy…” She trails off, then gives a quick giggle, grinning wide.

“Oh, wow, that was fast,” Lois says, dropping her hand from Clark’s face. Her hands are already out to accept Jonny as she approaches M’gann, and M’gann happily passes him off, maintaining a smile down at Jonny’s sleeping face. Lois holds Jonny to her shoulder and bounces him gently. “Huh, you really knocked him out cold.”

Conner’s heart kicks against the inside of his chest; M’gann’s heart booms in his head. Jonny’s heart is a distant pattering until Conner can focus again–it’s sleep. Of course it’s sleep. He’s fine. Horror lingers in M’gann’s expression all the same, eyes wide and white against the green. Jonny uhps in his sleep, voice both muffled and amplified against the side of Lois’s neck, and his tiny hands curl loose fists into the fabric of Lois’s shirt. M’gann sighs through pursed lips. Conner watches her eyes flutter heavy, dark creases peeking under her lower lids–

Enough. The bag. Empty now, Conner’s hands freely curl themselves into fists.

“You let me put him down for his nap,” Pa says to Lois, holding his hands out to take Jonny next. “Only fair, he sure put me down for mine!” he adds with a hearty chuckle as Lois pries Jonny’s hands from her shirt with one finger and tilts Jonny onto his back, then hands him off to Pa. Jonny moves from person to person with ease–it’s what it means to be that small and vulnerable, Conner thinks. That loved, his mind just has to add, a thought sharp and thin and aimlessly wistful. He’s not not. He’s never been, not really. Not since he’s been out of the pod. Seven years, almost–that’s almost a hundred Jonny lifetimes.

Wolf grumbles and paws at the floor, clicking his claws. Conner lets his hand drift back to the top of Wolf’s head, setting his fingers on autopilot scratching at one spot behind Wolf’s ear. Wolf’s brow stays tense against his palm.

“You want that baby all to yourself,” Ma says as she winds her camera’s carry strap neatly around her hand. She follows Pa and Jonny out of the kitchen, her hip joining to Pa’s like a magnet. “Just because he’s got your name doesn’t mean you get a mini-me,” she teases, her free hand perched on Pa’s shoulder as she peers into his arms. “Gramma needs her special time, too.”

“The next one’s going to have to be named Martha, huh,” Clark mutters under his breath, wiping his glasses on the end of his shirt and returning them to his face.

Lois spins in place to face him, setting one hand to her hip and slapping the other to her stomach.

“The what,” she says, voice low but firm.

Clark coughs lightly into his fist. “Nothing.”

Wolf slips his head out of Conner’s hand and turns away. Conner watches M’gann’s green hand touch down on Wolf’s white fur, fingertips rubbing a small circle into the center of his forehead; Wolf half-closes his eyes in acceptance, lets out a wet snort of a sigh, then points his ears forward again and shakes M’gann’s hand off as well. His yellow eyes hone in on Conner’s. Staring contest, Conner thinks, somewhat dismissively–he engages all the same.

M’gann’s hand disappears from the edge of his vision. She half-gasps a deep breath in to speak then cuts it off, humming her hesitance to herself. “They’re–” M’gann clears her throat. “They’re… going to love what you got them, got him, that is,” she says, voice thin and raspy as she repeats herself from two days ago. She swallows. “I promise.”

Conner's eyes dart to M’gann, breaking from Wolf's. M’gann keeps her own eyes averted, only glancing back and meeting his for a second–just a tug of a smile, and she’s staring straight ahead again.

After all, she doesn’t add this time, they’ll love it because it’s coming from you.

Conner looks back down at Wolf. Think I’d rather it just be good.

Wolf’s eyes stay on Conner. His tail hangs low, lightly brushing the floor as it swishes from side to side. A small groan becomes a soft, high-pitched whine, followed by a heavy breath. What, Conner thinks, mouth almost moving, voice almost breaking through–M’gann at his side and waiting on a response from him keeps his throat tight. There’s nothing he wants to say–no excuse. She’ll know or she won’t. He brought her here; it’s up to her now to notice. In that way, it’s barely even a secret at all.

Even though there’s a better way for it to not be, and that's to just say it.

“I’m getting Wolf a piece of pie,” Conner blurts out instead of anything else, voice cracking as he finds it again. Wolf’s tail whirls upright, wagging as Wolf turns to lead Conner to the counter.

“Oh!” M’gann responds softly at Conner’s back–he’s already gone. Wolf twitches his ears at the rustle of the paper as Lois thrusts her arm into the gift bag, but Wolf's eyes are on his target; Conner flinches at the sound, but steadies his breath. Wolf halts at the counter and stomps a paw. Conner reaches for the cupboard door, pinching its knob delicately between two fingers–the hinges still yelp and squeal as he pulls the door open. Anyone could have heard that, Conner thinks over the residual throbbing in his ears–everyone did, he’s sure.  The sharpness leaves his eardrums, but the pulsing stays deep in his head. His fingers feel for a plate already chipped along its rim. He knows there are plenty, but the only one that he can find is under several smooth, pristine plates. His hand freezes.

He looks at Wolf.

“Oh, diapers, good,” Lois says over whispering plastic and a single soft thump.

Wolf tilts his head at Conner.

…Right. Conner nods and slips his fingers into the stack of plates, his thumb skirting the rough edge of the right plate, the plate already flawed. He slides it out millimeter by millimeter, second by second; his thick fingers stick into the widening gap between plates as cushions, but they can’t stay there forever. He has the plate–next comes the clatter.

“I, u-uh, we–”

The gap closes like clenched teeth, a hard clack through Conner’s skull. He hears M’gann pause.

Dammit, Conner lets out, thankfully just in his own mind–not even M’gann’s.

“Conner and I…” M’gann continues, “Asked some of our friends who have babies, or at least a baby in the family, and… that brand was the favorite!”

“The League of Supermommies, huh,” Lois responds before the sound of another rustle. “Iris did give me her contacts. And this is–oh. Oh, no.”

The ceramic plate bounces like rubber in Conner’s hand. He smacks it to his chest to steady it–it hits his bones, but doesn’t break.

One deep, loud guffaw crashes through the air instead.

This time, he has to look.

Superman–Clark–Kal-El stifles another laugh with hands slapped over his mouth and his stomach as Lois holds up the Bat-Binky like a jewel to the light. M'gann meets Conner's eyes across the room with a grin. She's proud. He is, too–he's not not, anyway. Her eyes try to pull him in, inviting him to feel it, too–inviting him back.

He'll have to see it. Her face, when the moment comes. He'll have to see it. He'll have to face it.

Wolf still deserves his pie. Conner pries the plate from his chest. It’s green-gray with age, and the yellow and red flowers dotted along its rim are more faded on one side than the other. White scratches cut across its otherwise empty center. He won’t break it–and on his watch, neither will Wolf–but it fits for him. Something already broken.

“...You can’t stop me, you’ll be in space,” Lois’s voice filters back in. “Wayne Manor, no return address—he doesn’t even have to know it’s me.”

“Lois…” There’s mirth in Clark’s scolding voice, just like Ma’s. “Do him a favor and at least let him know it’s you. He’s paranoid enough.” One soft footstep. “Besides, knowing Bruce, he’d track you down anyway.”

“There’s gotta be some law against Batman trespassing in Metropolis,” Lois retorts, “especially with the stick Luthor’s got up his ass about–”

“Lois.”

“No politics at the kitchen table either, right.” Something fingertip-sized and hard yet yielding taps the table, any echo muffled by the tablecloth. Rubber and plastic. The Bat-Binky. Next, Conner acknowledges. He slides open a rumbling wooden drawer and digs out a clattering fork, gritting his teeth and forcing his hand steady. A thin strip of metal could warp and snap under his fingertips in an instant. He looks at the fork in his hand.

It’s already bent.

He didn’t–mean to–didn’t–even feel it–

Superman–Clark–Kal-El laughs as Conner holds the fork up and furrows his brow. “I was seven,” Kal says, “Or… maybe still six. And a little too excited that morning for the first slice of pie.” He slips his glasses off his face to wipe their lenses on his shirt. Their wire frame keeps its shape under the pressure of his fingertips, lines staying straight and narrow.

“You can fix it now, right?” Conner blurts out in response. His voice rings against the pots dangling from the rack. His cheeks burn like heat vision starting in the wrong place. “I mean, why not just bend it back?”

“Oh, don’t you dare!” Ma snaps, plucking the fork from Conner’s hand. Conner freezes. Ma slaps her hand down on Conner’s shoulder and shakes his muscles loose, then pats her soft, cool hand against the side of his face. “That’s a keepsake,” she tells him proudly, handing the fork back to him.  “We wouldn’t want it any other way.”

Superman’s house, Conner reminds himself factually; the moment he thinks it, the thought sits wrong in his head. He’s not a stranger, or some tourist–he’s not even a guest. This is home–this is a home. There’s still the Watchtower, still Happy Harbor even without the Cave, still Earth–

We fight for this, you know, M’gann said. This is it. This is life and love and… and everything, really, down here–

–Conner stakes the fork into the crust of the pie. Small, paper-thin cracks break into the surface. Crumbs tumble off the edge. Conner blinks at his stinging eyes. Enough. Wolf. Pie.

It’s still ours either way, the memory finishes all the same. Another latches onto its soft, wispy trail, still in her voice:

I don’t… want to want to–

–The drooping stack of crust and filling that Conner slips onto the plate slides itself in two, collapsing into a mess. Wolf won’t mind. Wolf's alert tail flickers at its tip, and the growling whine in his huffing breath hints at the howl he’s holding back. His claws rake against the floor as Conner lowers the plate, and before the plate can reach the floor, Wolf's tongue and teeth are on it. Conner squeezes the rim tighter to keep from letting it fall, pinching his thumb into the rough groove of the pre-existing chip. It fits like a fingerprint, like DNA. Wolf’s teeth clink and drag against the plate’s surface, following trails of old scratches and cinnamon-speckled apple down the other end of the plate and off its edge. They didn’t make it flawed. The flaws made it made for them.

History–someone else’s, but shared with them, with him. He’s a part of it now.

Jonny is a new part.

Wolf releases the plate, lips and tongue now smacking against the floor. The plate springs up in Conner’s hand, but his grip is already too tight to let it slip. His shirt would have been fine. Any of his shirts would have been fine. No good because it’s flawed, because he affected it, because it’s already had to be fixed–he doesn’t think like this. He can’t think like this. He can’t. The burning, hollow feeling cracking open in his chest–

Paper rustles between his ears, shooting off sparks in his skull. Conner holds his breath, holds his eyes shut, holds it in–

“And this is, uhh–”

I can’t keep thinking like this, his mind blips at him in a moment of cold clarity. If I do, it’s going to kill me.

“It–should fit, or do you think… it…” Conner hears M’gann’s hard swallow behind her bitten-shut mouth. He hears the quick release into a willful, breathed-out smile just as clearly. “It shouldn’t be too big, right?” M’gann asks Lois with a soft, pensive giggle. “Jonny’s such a little guy.”

Conner breathes out, opening his eyes. That’s it, he tells himself. It’s over. It’s done. Conner seeks the shirt out first before letting himself see anyone’s face, braces for the impact of bright red against jet black–

In Lois’s hands is the white onesie. She flips it to its reverse side, adorned only with a zipper, then back to its front, completely blank. “Oh, it’s fine,” she says, spinning the suit around now in her hands, checking and double-checking the undersides of the arms and the soles of the feet. “He’ll grow into it.”

Oh. The plate wobbles again in Conner’s grip–Wolf’s tongue laps against its surface for any and every glob or crumb that remains, licking the back as clean as the front, grazing Conner’s knuckles.

Conner pulls the plate up over Wolf’s head and sets it on the counter. “That’s it,” he mutters at Wolf softly. Wolf drops his tail and head and starts a slow stride away from Conner, giving his equivalent of a shrug. He treads a direct path to the front door and softly nosedives towards the bristled welcome mat, engulfing it in white fur as he settles down atop it, chin resting between his paws on the floor. He smacks his lips for any traces of pie left on his muzzle, then sighs resolutely through his nose.

“I’m just surprised there’s not a… you know.”

Conner looks. Lois taps her chest.

“Five sides and a fancy letter in the center, if you catch my drift?” she says.

“Oh! That was, um…” M’gann peers past Lois, head leaning to the side. She meets Conner’s eyes with help! scrawled across her face, her thin frown and furrowed brow.

Conner furrows his brow back at her. What?

“That… was, um…” M’gann repeats slowly, wobbling on her toes despite her shoes’ flattened heels.

What–oh. My idea. Say it, Conner thinks to her. His eyes fall to the almost empty bag, sharp and bright in the sunlight, red stuffing poking up from its open top. Doesn’t matter. Say it. It’s fine.

The thought goes nowhere. The wall is there. His mental breath sits hot inside his head with no vent, tension budding at the base of his skull.

…Right.

Lois reads M’gann’s mind, and his own–at least enough to know where she’ll get her answer. She whips around to face him and pins him with a look. Conner gulps.

“Your idea?”

Anger, disappointment, derision–her tone betrays nothing, and could mean anything. Conner dares to glance away. M’gann’s face broadcasts pity–no. Sympathy. An anxious helplessness as she bites her lips out of view and barely holds back a grunt.

Meeting her eyes, Conner shakes his head. Don't feel sorry for me. M’gann blinks at him, eyes wide.

“Yeah,” Conner says simply.

It’s the only one I liked. His mind starts him with the truth, then works on better responses to the inevitable why. 'Sorry'–no. 'It’s not like you have to put him in it'–Conner growls at the thought of sounding that angry. 'It’s… an option'–better. 'You think he’ll like it?'–That’s…

That’s too close to where he started. It’s the only one I liked.

Another step in his head towards why, even for himself, puts him on the edge of a white haze. The slab meets his back.  

Lois shrugs and smiles. “He’ll be the only kid in Metropolis without an S on his chest, believe me.” She folds the suit into a neat white square. “I love it. We’ll get him glasses next, let him really blend right in.” She rolls her eyes at Clark and hands him the folded suit. “No one will guess.”

Clark. Super–

“You didn’t,” Clark teases right back, slowly opening the suit back up in his palm, a single finger nudging one limb loose at a time until it drops over the edge of his hand.

Lois crosses her arms. “You don’t want to go there with me, Smallville.”

“...Understood,” Clark responds, but his eyes stay on the suit. Conner scans his face for why. X-ray vision will reveal nothing special–unless Forever Sixteen lines their baby clothes with lead, which would be worth knowing, and worth investigating further. Conner frowns at the thought. Of course it’s not that.

Superman–Clark–Kal-El catches Conner staring. Before Conner can look away, Kal smiles and shakes his head. “I’m–still getting used to it,” he says softly, laying his hand over the body of the suit, pressing it between his palms. “How little he is. Although I guess before I know it, he’ll be…” Kal slides his hand from atop the suit and keeps it palm-down in the air beside him, marking a height just above his shoulder. “Just like that.”

Conner blinks to force the hand down shorter, eyes latching onto the glint of Kal’s wedding ring to prove that they can see above it. “Yeah,” he mutters in response. “Happens.”

At least it’ll take years, not sixteen weeks–he can’t say that. He knows how it will sound.

This isn’t about him.

Lois’s arm takes another dive into the tissue paper. The sound is a roar on first impact; Conner tunes the rustling down to a whisper. “Now, don’t tell me,” Lois says, “but I know I felt something else clunking around in here…” Her hand grasps at paper, crunching it into a ball. “Unless I’m wrong, in which case do tell me, or else I’ll just look like I’m being greedy…”

M’gann hops in place, crosses her legs at the ankles, and hums a smile. “There’s one more thing.” Meeting Conner’s eyes, she nods and shrugs, giggling faintly. “Well, technically, I suppose it’s…” She leaves the thought hanging, eyeing Conner eagerly.

Another cue. Conner just blinks at her. Whatever she thinks he’s supposed to say, she’ll have to tell him through the link before he’ll say it, and he won’t hold his breath waiting–she won’t risk getting caught again.

I invited you to be my backup, he’d all but growled at her.

“Uh… huh!” By a single finger hooked around their connecting plastic tag, Lois lifts the pair of small black rainboots up out of the bag. “Two more things. Gotcha.” She chuckles. “You guys sure are looking out for our little guy’s feet, huh.”

A flash of disappointment runs across M’gann’s face, a twitch in her smile and brow, but her eyes stay soft on him, flicking lightly even over an audible, visible gulp.

Conner, this is your family! she’d reminded him before. You don’t need me for backup!

“They’re, um, little black boots,” M’gann starts, eyes only darting to Lois for a second before returning to Conner’s face, uneasy but focused. “He’ll, um… he can…” Conner feels his brow furrowing harder and harder, twisting under the scrutiny. She shut the link down, but she’s still trying to read his mind. Even without her mind-touch, he can hear it in her heart, see it in her eyes: what do I say?

More than that.

What do you want me to say? her eyes ask.

Conner stares back at her, pushing out a thought–she’ll either read it in his face or feel the wave of it spike on the psychic plane–just link us and you won’t have to guess. At least on the link, I can tell you to stop looking at me like–

“He can look… just like his Uncle Conner, if he wants,” M’gann says finally.

Conner’s breath hitches. The knot in his brow releases. He blinks down at his shoes. Right. That’s why he’d gotten them. He hadn’t said it to M’gann, hadn’t even thought it–to her or to himself. But it fits–it’s better than his reason. If it were me–that didn’t matter. Jonny isn’t him. Jonny is a baby.

The simplest facts in the world, and he has to keep thinking them, over and over, to make them real in his head. Jonny isn’t him. Jonny is a baby. Jonny isn’t him. Jonny is a baby. Jonny is–asleep in the other room, and barely bigger than his hands. Jonny is–alive, and happy. Jonny is–half-Kryptonian, half-human. Jonny is–the son of Superman.

Jonny isn’t him.

The stinging starts in Conner’s eyes again, the ghost of Jonny’s hand on his nose like a button to press. Never mind, Conner thinks at M’gann, keeping his eyes to the floor, knowing she won’t hear. Keep the link down.

“Well, you’ve set yourself up for another photo op,” Lois jokes, dropping the boots back into the bag with a papery splash. She plucks the Bat-Binky up from the table and drops it in after, a single tap, like a knuckle on glass. Clark hands her the white suit; she folds it back half as neatly as before, scoffs, then drops it inside. The package of diapers goes on top, pushing out the bag’s sides from the inside. Lois brings the ribbon handles together in her hand. “Good job, guys, great haul for our baby stash.”

Wait.

“I believe, translated, that means ‘thank you,’” Clark says with a chuckle, setting his hand on Lois’s shoulder. “But really, Kon-El,” he nods to Conner. “M’gann,” he nods to M’gann, then his eyes skip back across the table to Conner. “Thank you for everything.”

The warmth in his smile doesn’t reach Conner–Conner’s eyes dart back to the bag. That’s not everything.

“Translated from what, ‘city-girl’ to ‘country-boy’?” Lois quips back, drumming her fingers idly against the hand on her shoulder. “We say thank you in Metropolis, too. Just with a little less ‘bless-your-heart’ added in.” She lifts the bag off the table. “Thank-you,” she says emphatically, almost sing-song. “But seriously, we wouldn’t have even thought to ask you to bring anything but yourself–er–selves.” The bag slides to her elbow, contents rumbling faintly. “Thank you.”

Conner knows what’s at the bottom, neat and flat, dark and bright all at once–his eyes still blip into infrared. Yellow spots of fingerprint heat linger everywhere but the bottom, cold and untouched. He hid it too well.

“Well, bless your heart,” Clark says. Lois half-scoffs, half-sputters out a laugh. Clark’s arm slips to around her waist.

He has to say something.

“...You’re so welcome,” M’gann says softly, voice miles away but breath crackling in his ear. “Really, I’m–so honored to have been here. He’s such a sweet, beautiful baby boy.”

M’gann. Conner watches her green hand skim the top of her chair and then push it under the table. The soles of her sneakers scritch against the floor, fine grit against the wood. She steps from one side of his chair to the other, nudging it closer to the table with her hip as she tucks her hands behind her back, then waits, seemingly keeping time with the bounce of her heel. Another scriff sound. She stops and hums, tapping her toe now.

She’s working her way to him, circling the table like a wheel on an axle, eyes pinned to the center. Avoiding his eyes. Stealth op, Conner thinks.

He could work his own. A moment alone with the bag again–the paper filling would be an obstacle, but carefully enough, he could pop the bag open from the bottom on a seam, paste it back–if he has to, lick his finger and seal it like an envelope.  That’d be the how–he knows the what. He’d need the when, maybe even the where–

And the why, he thinks, heat starting in his cheeks. The why I’m even thinking of stealing a t-shirt from a baby. “Like taking candy from a baby,” he’s heard people say–that’ll be next, he thinks. Throw me back in Belle Reve at that point. I’ll be a supervillain.

M’gann’s white sneakers approach the edge of Conner’s shadow. Conner takes a breath. His thoughts go back to why. This isn’t about her, he says to himself, half-parroting her from before, half-refuting the her in his head he can imagine would be blaming this all on herself if he were thinking it to her. But he can’t leave it there–if they were linked right now, and she knew, he knows she wouldn't let him. He turns the thought of her back on himself, picturing her face in all its pity, sympathy, anxiety, and concern as she’d ask him:

Why are you hiding this?

Conner tries an answer: because I don’t want to see your face when I give him your shirt. It’s the first thing he thinks of, the worst thing he can think of, and his best guess.  She would believe him, if only because he would have said it, and she wouldn’t want to argue with him. Except–whether she wanted to or not, if she didn’t believe him, she would argue. And he can’t picture her convinced. He tries to argue back. Yeah, I know I brought you here, but–nothing. He could have taken back the offer this morning if he had wanted to–he’s sure she was still waiting for it.

M’gann–the real M’gann, heartbeat and breath in his ears–takes a step closer, shoe soles softly padding against the floor. Fine, he starts up again, needing an answer–and fast. Because I’m bad at surprises. Because I’m not… sure it’s even good enough, anymore. Because it made sense last night and doesn’t make sense now–I should have given one of mine. Because I choked. Because… Conner breathes in sharply, trying to muffle the sound of his pulse in his own ears. Because they won’t understand. They’ll think it’s a good thing. They’ll think I knew how to handle this. They’ll be proud of me.

“Well, speaking of which, it’s been a Metropolis minute since I’ve checked my baby, or my–” Lois clears her throat loudly. “–Phone. And any time Jonny's not making a sound, I get nervous. So…”

“I can hear Jonny's heartbeat… oh. Right,” Clark–Superman says. “We need to–go. Do that, that is. Step out for a–minute.”

Slow but steady footfalls and gentle bumps of rustling paper take the shirt away. It’s fine, Conner thinks, blessedly alone inside his own head. The lump in his throat wouldn’t let him speak if he wanted to. I don’t want anyone to be proud of me.

“...Conner?”

M’gann’s voice cracks in its failed whisper; something cracks behind Conner’s eyes. He holds it in, tightening the knot in his head.

“...Are you okay?” she asks, voice even softer than if she were speaking to a child. He knows. He just heard her.

Conner’s eyes reach as high as her green throat, her buttonless collar, and then drop down to the hands wringing at her sides, the unrolled sleeves now pulled down over her wrists. He doesn’t need to see her face to know that he can’t look. His own face could break at any moment. What’s inside could leak out. One slip, and he’ll lose control.

“If that’s… okay to ask,” M'gann adds warily.

Conner steels up his insides. Solid. Cold. Contained. Empty. “Well, you asked it,” he mutters back at her. “Too late to ask permission.” His eyes dart a quick glare into M’gann’s eyes, then retreat back to the floor, to overlapping shadows. “What do you think?”

Answer me this time: what’s wrong with me? He already knows the answer. This is just me. This is just what I am. It makes sense because I’m wrong.

Say it.

Wolf raises his head from the floor. Ma tsks over the sound of dull tapping in the living room. Jonny’s heart beats through sleep softly and soundly. Pa chuckles and clears his throat–slower tapping, then an electronic whoosh–a moment later, all tapping stops. “Uh–awh,” Lois offers as a quick response, tone flat. Superman is a wall. He could be any other heartbeat. He’s there–that’s all Conner knows. Tap-tap, blipping on a screen, a faint buzz like a bug against a lightbulb. Superman hums decisively. The sound stops.

M’gann is a statue in front of him, save for the determined rise and fall of her chest. Conner dares to look higher. Her eyes are fixed on him, and every muscle in her face is drawn tight. On first glance, he could think her look is a glare, but the raw hurt in her eyes is too open for him to miss. He can see it for a second, and then his eyes won’t focus. Back to Wolf, white head tilting to the side. Back to the floor, and a pocket of darkness to sink into–back to solid wood and two shallow shadows, and the place they overlap. Back to any wall–back to dangling pans–back to the photo on the fridge and to cobwebs on the ceiling and to the screen door he could tear through on a breath, not even a thought, just a twitch of his fingers at his side–

–He pulls his hands into fists and blinks. Hard. Too much. He blinks his sight into a blur and then blinks his way back out of it. Enough.

His eyes go back to M’gann.

M’gann winces at him. Almost immediately, she drops her stare. Conner follows the fall down and sees her own hands clenching into fists. He hears her swallow. “I’m… not trying,” she starts, “I swear it. But… it's starting to reach–I mean–I'm feeling that you–”

Thump, thump, thump, thump.

Conner feels his own breath hitch; M’gann gasps. Her wide eyes flit back up and past him–with effort, her face shifts. She pushes the curve of her mouth into a smile. The crease in her brow only twitches back into view for a second.

Whatever his own face shows, he doesn’t know, and can’t care. He’s hiding enough. He turns to face the doorway.

“So… M’gann. Kon-El.” Kal–Clark–Superman nods at Conner. Lois pats the back of Superman’s shoulder. “How about that pie?”

Wolf rises to his feet and whines.

“You got yours,” Lois says to Wolf, smirking. Wolf drops back down on top of the welcome mat and grumbles. 

“I-I’ll get the plates!” M’gann volunteers. The cupboard door snaps open above her and Conner’s heads. A single plate floats down telekinetically from the top of the stack. “Or, we will?” She meets Conner’s eyes again and smiles with a shrug, a soft plea. She holds her hands out to guide the plate down, but rather than grab it, she brings it level with the S-Shield on Conner’s chest and keeps it floating there. Conner stares down into its glossy white face. Blinking away the hazy smears of his own would-be reflection, he takes the plate. M’gann gasps–delight, not panic. The second plate starts its smooth descent into his hands.

“God.” The legs of Lois’s chair creak against the floor. “I’ll spare everyone here the joke about flying saucers, given that…”

Superman laughs before she can finish. The second plate clicks down into place over the first. M’gann blinks down at the floor shyly, smile going lopsided. “Right, aliens,” she says under her breath.

The pie behind Conner slides to the edge of the counter. Conner’s brow furrows. He thought she was just giving him the plates. His eyes snap to M’gann’s–M’gann’s are up past his head. She gives a wincing smile.

“Oh,” a voice whispers, right at Conner’s ear.

Conner whips around. Superman steps back, nearly dropping the pie. His eyes widen behind his glasses. Conner’s face won’t unlock, won’t catch up–

Superman nods and leaves. “Well. Well, uh, don’t forget, Lois,” he says as he sets the pie back into the center of the table, only smiling again now that he’s walked away. “You’re the mother of one.”

M’gann slides the last two plates down to herself. Conner feels his frown deepen. Let me do that, he starts to say; the knot in his throat loosens, but doesn’t unwind. In his mind, all four plates go to his hands like he expected them to. In his mind, all four plates shatter in his grip. Bone white shards cut through the air, cascade to the floor, fall right through his fingers. Fine. The clatter is sharp enough as Conner pushes his plates into place on M’gann’s stack–the oh! that escapes her lips just fits. I don’t trust me with them either, he thinks.

He doesn’t try not to stomp back to his chair. His feet feel like concrete; the thudding of his heels against an unyielding floor announce that his boots, at least, are still rubber and leather, and can take the brunt of his steps. Nothing breaks as he slides his chair back out, or as he sits, or as he lays his fists onto the tablecloth.

“...And as the only human in the room, I guess that makes me just as much an alien as the rest of you,” Lois says as silver forks drift through the air down to the table. They sit for a moment then spin in place, turning the pronged ends away from where hands are meant to go. Lois’s fork slips into her hand like a pen; she threads it between her fingers and bats its handle lightly against her ring finger in anticipation. Conner stares at his, scrutinizing its curve, visually matching it to the two forks still lying flat at empty seats and confirming what he has is something not already broken.

Wrong thought, but he doesn’t care. He’s had too many now to keep track of.

Three plates land next, barely audible against the tablecloth: Clark’s and Lois’s and M’gann’s. The fourth slowly tilts into his vision, guided by M’gann’s green hand. Her fingers hover and curl at the edge of his vision even once she’s released the plate.

It’s as far up as Conner looks, and then his eyes are back on his fork. Carefully, he picks it up, holding it heavy in his hand, forcing the weight of it to bend his wrist instead of him bending it.

M’gann wisps herself into the seat beside him. Her chair legs wobble and clack slightly against the floor, but there’s no skid and no screech. No hands of hers land on the table–green, white, or Megan. His eyes vaguely pick up on green fingers gripping green elbows below the tabletop, pink sleeves sagging over them–his world wants to shrink. She’s barely a heartbeat–all of them are. Checkered cloth and gleaming white ceramic hold his stare. The refrigerator hum steadies his head from the inside out. Superman–Clark sets down the pie. Conner blinks because he should. Tension starts to twist his arm from the top of his wrist to his elbow, but he keeps his fingers open around the fork, keeps his thumb hovering a sliver above it.

Napkins manifest, flickering blue and red; Ma hums overhead, putting a hand to Conner’s shoulder as she leans. “Here you go, sweetie,” she says to M’gann, patting the folded blue triangle down in place. “Do your best, and we’ll take care of the rest. There’s nothing a little vinegar and soda can’t fix.”

“Oh, I–” M’gann’s hand pops up to wave away the offer, but her fingers curl tight then uncurl to pin themselves to the corner of her napkin. “Thank you.”

Ma’s hand ruffles Conner’s hair then slides down his back, pressing into him for one moment, then leaving the next. He blinks again because he should.

M’gann’s heartbeat stirs the air inside his head. A hard thump–an echo–hits inside his own chest. He blinks again because it hurts. He squeezes his eyes shut because it doesn’t stop. The fork slips smoothly out of his hold, thumping the table–he can’t be feeling this now. He won’t. The hurt goes down, sinks below his heart–he makes it go there, then opens his eyes.

M’gann’s crumpled napkin puffs out like a blue blooming flower from her loosening fist. A quick, sharp pant flicks at Conner’s ear, then M’gann flattens her hand against the napkin, swatting it down like a bug. He blinks, trying to think, trying to not think–he wins and loses. All that gets through is action. His hand closes back around his fork, pushing its prongs into his palm. They’re dull against his skin–to make himself stop squeezing, he tells himself they’re needles. Already-broken glass. Another hand in his.

M’gann’s hand squeezes her napkin again.

“I’m–looking forward to–having my first bite of this in a while!” M’gann laughs out. “But please, don’t worry about cutting me too big a slice.”

“Don’t tell me shapeshifters think they have to watch their figures, too,” Lois says. “I mean it, don’t tell me. That’s too depressing to think about.” Lois shifts in her chair. Her hand goes to her stomach. “Clark, give her the big piece.”

“What if I wanted the big piece?” Clark says, in a voice like a child’s. A plate full of pie passes in front of Conner all the same, to his left. M’gann pulls her napkin to her lap and pushes at her sleeves. Conner’s plate lifts up next, Clark’s hand on the other end.

I’m not hungry is too much to say. His voice would have to break back out of his throat, out of his head. Next would have to be why, and with five people to answer to. Six counting Wolf. Jonny’d still be asleep. It’d be nothing to him–it’d be Conner being only as wrong as Jonny knows him to be, now that they’ve met.

The steel prongs turn hot and soft in Conner’s hand. Jonny. Is. A. Baby. Stop. This. Now. His teeth feel like they’d snap steel even sooner than his hand, or like they’ll break against themselves and leave him to gum at pie crust, shards all falling out the moment he unclenches his jaw to eat–his tongue slips between his teeth to cushion them. A second later, his tongue burns.

M’gann’s fork clatters against the edge of her plate; Conner’s shoulders jump, and his teeth release his tongue. M’gann’s fingers scramble to take hold of her fork again, fingertips pattering against the tablecloth. The fork slides into her hand prongs-first; the prongs disappear into her fist. “Oh–oops!” She bumps the other end of it against the table and pushes the handle back into her hand.

Right. Conner bumps his own fork out of his fist. His plate falls back into place in front of him, now with pie.

“You’ve still got three days ‘till you-know-what, so don’t fill up too soon,” Lois says–to him, he thinks. Conner nods, eyes following invisible lines through the checkered cloth to the pie’s lattice crust. “Meanwhile, I’m back to eating for one, which, of course, means I have room to spare.” Her fork clinks against her plate. “And for all I care, it stays there. I’m print, not television.”

“Kon-El isn’t pregnant, Lois,” Clark says with a light chuckle.

“I didn’t say–okay, fine, I’m free-associating. But I’m tired of Perry giving me the look everytime I walk in the door.” Lois’s speech turns muffled, crunching only between words. Conner takes his own bite–the sound is a cue, he figures. And the oozing and crumbling inside his own skull keeps everything else out. “You know what I mean. Jimmy, too!” Smack and swallow–his own, at least, but Lois’s voice turns crisp and clear again.  “Like it’s the miracle of life, buddy.” Another mouthful to get through, but her words are clear enough. “Get over it.”

Conner watches his hand move his fork, then watches his other hand reach for the clean, blank red shape of the napkin–a triangle, not the other shape. Once it hits his skin, it’ll darken, haze over–the mark will last longer than the feeling, and he’ll still need to hide it–no. Back to the moment. He leaves the napkin on the table.

“I think everyone at the Planet’s more amazed that Lois Lane is actually a mother, more than anything,” Clark–Superman–Clark says. His slice sits untouched on his plate. The moment Conner notices it, he feels eyes on him. Not heat vision, nothing so tangible–the burning in his head is only in his head, Conner knows, and the eyes on him might be, too. He’d have to look to know.

“Ha-ha,” Lois snaps back, silver fork waving limply through the air. Conner blinks, and Clark’s fork starts to move.

“Mmm,” M’gann moans, close enough in Conner’s hearing that an odd jolt runs up his spine. “Oop, excuse me.” The blue of her napkin flutters out of view.

“I heard that!” Ma calls out from the living room. “Don’t think you’ll be walking out of here without my recipe! I’ve been fine-tuning it, as always.” 

“Oh, um, thank you!” M’gann calls back out toward the doorway.

“...Superhearing?” Lois asks.

“Ma-hearing,” Clark responds.

“Super-ma,” Lois then mutters through another bite. “One letter off, you know. No Superman without a Superma. ”

Clark chuckles under his breath and swallows. “Believe me, Lois, I know.”

Conner takes another bite; everything keeps moving. It will stop when he stops, and then it will be him–he’ll be the thing that’s wrong. He keeps his eyes on the tablecloth, on his own hands, on lightly falling crumbs, on speckled smears across his plate. Voices soften into murmurs; his motions go mechanical. The plate below gets cleaner, becomes a brighter, blanker light.  The haze in his head is home. He’s home.

The motions take him to the point where his mouth just closes around empty steel, pie already gone. His eyes sting like the metal on his tongue could actually cut him. He slips the fork out of his mouth–his hand releases it to the plate. The clatter is like water splashing, just one drop in the ocean–one is somehow enough to make his eyes blur. He blinks back their heat. The burning in his palm and wrist, however, don’t leave with a thought. His hands want to break. He drops them under the table, and they close around themselves.

He’s fine.

[lilgoatgal]

I just started watching Young Justice and I got reminded of a certain love triangle 👀

[hugsandchaos]

The Young Justice team (including Phantom) gets help from two very well known ghost hunters. Phantom was informed about this, obviously, and that the two ghost hunters had been repeatedly told not to attack him. He was feeling surprisingly calm about meeting them. His new friends would be there to help him even if things went wrong.

Except nobody told him their names were Maddie and Jack Fenton.

[hardcore-direwolf]

🤡PUNCHLINE🤡: YJ 2010!OG Six!Team + Fem!OC X FEM!Reader

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PLOT: Joker and Harley Quinn's adopted daughter Punchline has been a constant headache to the Team ever since she broke free from Arkham Asylum without getting caught with her neapolitan fun boy Andrew Merry. This clown princess was only pulling an act to get free from her so-called parents and lover. She found out the truth about herself a week ago within LexCorps and heard it all...she was a missing child stolen from a family. Punchline suffered from many things cause she never kills and left innocents alone, but has murdered bad guys only when she deems them as threats to the world. She felt those harmful words and they played with her pain by hurting her rather than healing her. They pushed her around and pulled her down into the bottomless pit of bittersweet vengeance. Will the Team save her from these bloody killer clowns and bring her out of this freakshow of circus psychos? {ALPHA/BETA/OMEGA}.

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WARNING: DARK ANGST, SOFT FLUFF, ROUGH SMUT, ETC.

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"Breaking news, deranged beta criminal Andrew Merry has successfully escaped Arkham Asylum after Punchline blew up his cell and got tons of criminals out alive. Joker and Harley Quinn's legacy has begun her reign of terror all over again in Gotham City as her boyfriend does the same. If you see them out in public and anywhere else...run, I repeat run from them as far as possible." Punchline smiled with fake happiness as Andrew pulls her on his lap and smooches her lips with his own.

Andrew was once a beta named Lucas Nero Kaye, but another beta Harley changed him like Joker did to Punchline and gave him the special roller coaster ride to his fun-land. She was renamed as a beta named Alecia Delilah Napier and got branded by force. Ace Chemicals did all of its tricks of making her into their daughter and turning her mad like Alice Liddell.

Alice and Luka were toxic with each other. Punchline never loved him and cared for him, though Joker did care for Andy while Harley only loved her. Harleen Francis Quinzel and an alpha known as Jack Oswald White did favor Andrew rather than Punchline, it made her go fully black and white with splashes of red all over her body.

The gothic punchinello was protected by the female harlequin and the male jester was very close the neapolitan mime. Punchline vows to run away and never come back this life she's been breathing in as a hellish life. She has to wait and get rid of the tracker before she can make her escape to freedom and see broad daylight.

Punchline begins packing up her things and putting in a dark purple Lamborghini car she got from Joker for her assumed birthday. She waits till Andrew, Harley, and Joker leave for their annual heist at Gotham City Bank and gets inside her luxury car. The gothic punchinello slowly cranks up the fast car engine with one hand and begun leaving the hidden garage to the main exit.

The clown princess was lucky to remove the trackers and chips on her car, though the ones in her body were harder cause it was injected into her veins. Punchline drove from Arkham to some random city in baggy sweats to cover her scars and other evidence of abuse she went through as a little girl. The gothic punchinello kept driving and taking breaks by using all of the saved money she stole from a fellow beta Riddler's bank account thanks to Catwoman.

Every single day and night, she would drive from each city till she found herself in Robinson Park and was happy to find a place to hide from others. She manages to make some money with dancing and singing in subway stations to the public plaza till it went viral enough to become an internet star on social media sites. Punchline never showed her face, hasn't talked, and would always keep her looks to herself including her body...it was major insecurities.

The gothic punchinello suffered from the child neglect and domestic violence from her abusive lifestyle where she has no freedom to be herself. Punchline was safe from others and has to stay low for now on since Andrew will try multiple times to get his way with her for fun. She was suffering both inside and outside cause Joker can kill her in seconds if he finds out his porcelain doll got away from this playhouse...until one dreadful night at Jump City inside her apartment.

At Mount Justice, Batman somehow managed to locate where Punchline ran off and hide for a temporary amount of time. The Team watched the first day of her staying at Jump City by the cameras and saw the gothic punchinello looking paranoid about something. The seven sidekicks listened to what she said and understood why the clown princess ran away...to get out of an extremely toxic environment filled with crimes and scenes.

"She's the only key witness to finding out who's behind this plot with the Syndicate and why she became Punchline. Be careful Team, we know how she tends to be silent and deadly. Don't let her intimidate any one of you," the Team left the Secret Sanctuary and headed to Jump City where they found her car.

"Anything good in there?" Superboy opened the trunk and saw nothing but documents of a crime scene.

"It's just some papers," the clone replied as he raises the lid wider for the rest to see themselves.

Robin picks them up and reads each one by hand. It was from an unsolved mystery of a missing child back in the early 2000s, Bruce's godchild Evelina Gwendolyn Nelson was abducted by Harley Quinn and was personally "killed" by the Joker after he murdered her own parents in cold blood. The Boy Wonder see more files and other information in the trunk, such as DNA tests, birth certificates, ancestry trackers, hospital records, pharmacy visits, criminal history, and lie detectors.

"She has all of the files of Bruce Wayne's godchild including hers in there. Why does she have them?" Wonder Girl begun finding an extra key card and hands it to Robin.

"We're about to find out ourselves, come on guys." The Team followed the female demigod in the elevator and got in the private top floor.

Punchline was currently fast asleep with her scars and bruises from her last ambush a few days ago by the Joker, who notifies Andrew that his "girlfriend" dumped him and left the Laugh Pack for good by her death with a gunshot in her chest. The clown princess suddenly wakes up from her sleep when she hears a ding from the elevator and grabs two twin handguns along with a matching pair of daggers for safety precautions. Punchline hears several knocks and went into the bathroom by locking the door shut, leaning against it as she tries to find something for her joy in her backpack.

The Boy of Steel heard light shuffling behind the front door and knew Punchline was now fully awake. Kid Flash uses the key card and he went inside to see the whole apartment was surprisingly spotless from head to toe without traces of flaws on it. His six comrades can feel the tension as they went into different rooms and couldn't find her until they found her bedroom.

'Punchline's probably inside her room,' the archer said in the mind link, turning to Wonder Girl.

'Xena, you go open the door.' Kid Flash told the female demigod.

The leader of the Team gave his two teammates a raised eyebrow and he shakes his head no while his half-god girlfriend was unimpressed. Wonder Girl carefully opens the door and saw the room was shockingly clean, but a book was on the desk. The female demigod reaches for it and storms out of there with a neutral look on her face.

'Is that a journal?' Miss Martian asked her best friend.

'Yes, but I'm not reading it. We'll give this to Batman till further notice...unlike three of you who will more likely to read it.' The speedster, archer, and acrobat went silent while Aqualad, the female Martian, and Superboy nod their heads yes in agreement.

Punchline's heart was beating like crazy while tears came down her hollow cheeks and from her sunken eyes. She took her happy pills from her duffle bag and popped them into her mouth. The gothic punchinello was giggling quietly through tears of pain and faking her joy as she curls up in the bathtub, feeling the symptoms and effects it gave her.

Her stomach was scarred and burnt like other places on her bony frame. Punchline was diagnosed with major disorders and have health problems, but doesn't want immediate treatment due to trust issues. The clown princess has low self-esteem problems after Andrew tried to win her back at Arkham Asylum a few weeks ago and attempted to break her with the Joker watching both of them, but Catwoman saves the gothic punchinello long enough to let the young child escape from that horrifying nightmare to Jump City.

Catwoman was also the first person to see Punchline without her makeup and realize that her lover's godchild was actually alive. The cat burglar got what the gothic punchinello wanted in exchange of diamonds and pearls. The black cat burglar told the Dark Knight and he took a test between his childhood friends with Punchline's blood sample to confirm that Catwoman was right...the Joker broke Batman's godchild.

Punchline will always hug her stuffed animal she got from the Shadow Dame named "Koneko" which means "Kitten" in Japanese, it was sewn right and made with her love for animals. She doesn't like how people treats nature, the gothic punchinello has a soft spot for animals and flowers. As for food, she was born a natural vegetarian and doesn't like meat or anything that came from animals.

"Punchline, we know you locked yourself in there. Please come out of the bathroom," the gothic punchinello froze with shock and horror written on her face. "Don't make me hurt you honey, we know you're scared and in danger. Please sweetheart, we won't arrest you and treat you bad."

Punchline puts her things in her backpack and places her mask to cover her face from outsiders before pulling the hood over her head. Her dyed black locks of hair was peeking out and put her weapons in her bag. The clown princess gets up from the tub and carefully opens the door to see the Team.

The gothic punchinello looked a lot shorter and petite than usual. Miss Martian watched the younger girl put all of her weapons down and unload her pair of white platinum guns from their silver bullet ammo. Punchline shocked all of them by raising her hands and arms in surrender while going on her knees to let one of them arrest her.

Robin went behind the clown princess and puts a pair of handcuffs on her wrists before doing so to her ankles for safety precautions. The Boy Wonder gets her up and she flinches in response to the severe wound she made from a golden kitchen knife last night. Punchline stumbles trying to get her backpack up until she collapses and passes out cold from the pain in her stomach.

Wonder Girl saw it instantly and caught the child in time before she hits her head hard on the floor. She searches for a pulse, freezing to feel how faint and slow it was. Punchline kept the room cold as ice, hard as stone, and clean as slate contrast to her motionless body that was damaged.

"We need Punchline to med bay quick, she's barely responding." The female demigod carries Punchline bridal style, cringing when she held her and can tell she was sickeningly light as a feather.

The Team ran off to the Bio-Ship and flew back to their base with a dying child in their custody. Once the ship landed, Wonder Girl took Punchline in her arms and rushed to med bay with a panicked look on her face. Black Canary saw that the female demigod was on high alert and helped her keep the gothic punchinello breathing while the rest of the Team waited for their teammate to fix Punchline.

After a two hours of tests and exams, Wonder Girl was trying not to cry and rage when she saw everything that a child shouldn't experience for the first time. Punchline was the reason why heroes and innocents were still alive with their families, but this was personal...that journal was the last resort. The Sonic Screamer kept a sharp eye on the child as she breathe through her oxygen mask and rest peacefully.

Black Canary found the results and was terrified. Cracked ribs, dark circles around her eyes, bite marks on shoulders, pale skin, appetite loss, wounds on ankles, busted lips, broken nose, a minor concussion, burns on hands and feet, handprints on neck, lacerations on the back and chest, cuts on wrists and thighs, slashes on stomach and neck, and many more. This girl literally went through hell and back at a very young age.

"Canary, I told the Team already what's wrong and the signs that Punchline was constantly abused. We have to keep her under immediate watch and make sure she doesn't hurt herself. This was in her pockets," the female demigod explained before pulling the pill bottles.

'Happy pills, one pill a day makes the pain go away.' Black Canary thought.

"Not only that, Batman looked through her bags and saw a lot of disturbing things in it. Those files Robin attained from her car are real, the boys found more stuff and I told them to hand them over to y'all till further notice." Wonder Girl stated while checking on the IV fluids and blood transfusion she has from Catwoman. "She's selectively mute too, so we have to make her talk willingly...not by force. Punchline went through enough and was beaten every 24/7 for her right doings. She's not safe from the Joker, Harley, or Andrew, this little girl has to stay and be put under our custody."

Recognize: Catwoman; 00, Recognize: Superman; 01, Recognize: Batman; 02; Recognize: Wonder Woman; 03

Catwoman storms into med bay and sees Punchline being treated with care by the Amazonian demigoddess. The Core Four looked at the files and the blood sample they got from her a few months ago. This girl was a missing child and it matched with the blood of Bruce's honorary niece.

Robin saw his adopted father's girlfriend and knew that look. The black cat was worried for the clown princess and see the symptoms playing its roles into Punchline's health problems. The Team stayed by med bay and took turns of watching over her, only to see her sleep for hours.

A day later at med bay, Punchline wakes up and saw herself in a different room. She begins panicking that caused her heart rate to skyrocket and alert the Team. Wonder Girl got a painkiller ready for the gothic punchinello, who's having an anxiety attack and tearing up in pain.

"Shhh, shhh, shhh, it's okay sweetie, we're not gonna hurt you. Deep breaths...in and out." Punchline copied her and slowly calmed down before falling asleep. "There you go, that's a good girl."

The female demigod sighs in relief as Punchline slept and snore softly. Without the mask and hoodie, she looks like a fragile porcelain doll made from spun glass and fine china. The clown princess didn't hear the Team walking, who knew that they have to stay careful and not trigger her into going to panic mode.

'Is she okay?' Superboy asked her.

'No. This will take more than a few years to get Punchline recovered and sobered from abuse. We can't set off anything that'll make her have flashbacks and cause her discomfort. For now, we have to let the League decide what they have to do with Punchline. Let's pray that she doesn't go to prison, because this child's mind is too frail and broken apart from everything.' The Boy of Steel pats her shoulder while Wonder Girl writes down some healthy diet recommendations and tips.

"Bellatrix, she trusts you and Catwoman more than others. Here's my Golden Lasso of Truth," the Defender of Justice said, handling her rope to her daughter.

"Isn't this lasso way too far Mum? I get that all of us want answers, but this is a child who went through a living and breathing hell with two psychos as her "parents"." The Team nodded in agreement and stood beside the female demigod. "What's wrong with you and the League's minds? Are y'all really doing this to her, especially when I got what kinds of problems wrote down...please don't tell me the journal has all the proof in it."

Wonder Woman nodded with a saddened look and Wonder Girl turns livid. She begins calming down when she looks at Punchline's resting body and understood what her mother wants her to do, but she has a similar way. The teenage demigoddess carefully pulls the wires and cords, though kept a few on her for signs of conflict.

It took ten minutes to let Miss Martian link the older girl up and let their boyfriends hold them close. Kid Flash and Arrowette (Artemis Crock) were sitting side by side while Robin got another painkiller prepared for Punchline if she starts feeling any types of pain. The clown princess hums softly and opens her dull eyes to see the Team, who stares down at her bedridden form for answers.

"Alright Punchline, you got two choices to make. You can either tell us the truth or I'll have to let this golden magic rope do its work. Simple as that sweetheart, I'm not threatening to hurt you or make you feel scared. You're still a child that needs help and we can help you if you tell us." Punchline was hesitant and shivers as she tries to back away, but sees handcuffs on her bandaged wrists and ankles.

"Long story, the League found a lot of things and took your stuff out of your home from Manhattan. That's why you're stuck handcuffed and bedridden till we get the truth. All you have to do is talk and let us hear." Punchline said nothing and kept a horrified look on her face.

'She's not talking,' the female archer said to the teenage demigoddess.

'I'm not using this damn lasso to force an abused child into speaking Artemis, I refuse to let Batman interrogate her if it comes down to that option.' Wonder Girl responded to the blond-haired teenage girl.

"Or we'll get Batman and send you back to Arkham." Punchline begins tearing up in seconds and shaking her head no while whimpering, trying to get free while she got her to remember how Batman could see the genuine sadness written on her bruised face whenever she gets placed in Arkham.

Kid Flash smacks Robin in the back of the head and the Boy Wonder rubs it while frowning at his best friend. The rest glared at his blunt choice of words and the acrobat now understands why he needs to learn some respect. The clown princess sees the shot and begs silently to make it vanish from her teary green eyes.

"Sorry about this idiot, he tends to show no mercy on criminals." Kid Flash apologized as he drags him with the help of Arrowette out of med bay.

"Wait," the Team froze to hear her voice...so quiet and very timid. "Please don't leave, I'll talk."

The trio sat back down and their four older comrades asked her questions that led to her being truthful. Each answer she gave them were from ones about the Light and Cadmus, not herself...her life. Robin walks over to Punchline with a deep frown after he sees that she doesn't care for herself and living in a world of disaster.

"Next question, what did Joker, Harley, and Andrew do to you for years?" Punchline gulped nervously and knew this will cost her breathing soul.

The Team does know that she's twelve years old and going to thirteen next year. She was shivering and shaking, but Superboy shockingly held her hand and Miss Martian did the same to keep her at ease. Punchline begun telling the truth as the League hears everything and grew enraged, the clowns tried to break her apart by selling her off to Lex Luthor as a slave to teach her some manners.

After saying everything while Wonder Girl silently kept the lasso hidden away, the Team storms out of med bay and left the teenage demigoddess with the clown princess. She pulls the lasso from the child's foot and lets Wonder Woman take it from her hands. Her mother nods at her and pats her shoulder while trying to keep her relaxed.

"It's not your faults, it's always been mine." That was the last straw and Wonder Girl whips her head angrily at Punchline with a hardened glare, which got the Team backing away.

"YOUR FAULT?!! NO NO NO HONEY, IT'S THE FAULTS OF THE PEOPLE WHO HURT YOU, STARVE YOU, PUNISH YOU, SELL YOU, AND BREAK YOU!!" The Team froze to hear Wonder Girl snap and lash the truth out at Punchline. "YOU DON'T GIVE TWO FUCKS ABOUT YOUR OWN LIFE, THEY NEVER CARED AND LOVED YOU CAUSE YOU SAW WHAT WAS TRULY RIGHT!! THEY'RE BLAMING YOU FOR THOSE HEISTS AND DEATHS CAUSE THEY KNEW THAT YOU'LL NEVER BE LIKE THEM!!"

Aqualad tries to get his girlfriend to calm down, but she snaps at him in warning with glowing silver eyes and went back to his spot. Wonder Woman knew that her daughter has the right to snap, though stand her ground and went over to the teenage demigoddess. Punchline was wide-eyed with tears streaming down her face, trying to get away from Wonder Girl and get free from the cuffs.

"Bella, you're scaring her." Wonder Woman warned her.

"DIANA, SHE HAS TO HEAR THIS WHENEVER SHE LIKES IT OR NOT!! IF THEY WERE YOUR PARENTS, WILL THEY SELL YOU TO SOME RICH MAN WHO WILL MAKE YOU INTO A MONSTER?!! IF THAT WAS YOUR FUCKING BOYFRIEND...YOU'RE A GODDAMN TWELVE YEAR OLD GIRL FOR ZEUS'S SAKE!! HE SHOULDN'T BE CHEATING ON YOU WITH SOME DUMB WHORE, YOU'RE BETTER THAN ALL OF THEM AND YOU CAN'T SEE THAT SHIT YOUR OWN SELF!!" Wonder Girl yelled out angrily, facing Punchline while trying not to go full Light Avatar State and turning serious with a deepened alpha tone. "We wanna help you if you let us, I'm sorry for snapping, but you have to hear the truth of what I think and I believe all of us agree that you're safe here. We're a close pack, we've decided to watch over after somebody won the glaring contest with his mentor, and we'll keep you safe and sound from others. Please, we want you to trust us...we won't hurt you."

Punchline was set free by Black Canary, the small girl slowly begins walking to Wonder Girl and starts hugging her tight. The League was shocked like the Team, who were relieved that the clown princess was complying and was actually content. The teenage demigoddess picks her up and carries the petite child to the rolling chair.

"Your real parents were special indeed, they both died protecting you from Joker when he got Harley to take you years ago. You look just like your mother and father, his hair and eyes, your mother's looks and personality...Kent and Inza did mention about their deceased granddaughter having a stuffed animal named Koneko. Don't worry, I got your friend safe...right here." Punchline's dull eyes gleamed as she gently takes Koneko from her hands and hugs it close to her, closing her eyes that went back to green after the happy pills were flushed out of her entire system. "Catwoman's willing to take you under her wing and Black Canary will be there to give you therapy sessions. Batman will tell you about your parents cause the League were very close to them and were honored to have a cute little niece. She was smart, brave, adorable, and nice unlike this fool who tried to use his mentor as a weapon. They know who you really are, the League broke the case that you wanted to know and got you home. We'll get you a room fixed and find something comfy for you to wear. Okay?"

Punchline nodded shyly and kept holding her friend with a small smile. Wonder Girl went to the kitchen and takes out some fruit yogurt with a protein shake to the side. The Team watches the teenage demigoddess went back to med bay and present the clown princess with those chosen items.

"Slow and steady steps," the clown princess gulps and begins eating slowly, earning smiles and relieved looks that meant Punchline was getting really hungry.

'How do you know that she was hungry Bella? I didn't hear her stomach making noise,' the clone said to her.

'She was fidgeting and holding her stomach. We have to find her official rank first, then the girls and I have to find some clothes for her to wear at the mall.' Wonder Girl answered while shaking the bottle and opening it for Punchline. "It's milk chocolate, I know this won't taste good...I slipped something helpful in it for you."

Punchline sips the shake, humming in delight and drank the liquid as she starts enjoying what was in it. She puts the empty bottle down and licks her lips at the sweet flavor of it. Wonder Girl was told by Kent's widow Jolene that she was an alien, which means that Punchline was half alien and could be healed by a few months if they slipped some magic-based healing potions in everything she wants to devour or chug down her throat.

'My love, what did you put in her food and drink?' Aqualad asked the teenage demigoddess.

'Jolene's healing potions mixed with my nectar, I have to Kaldur...she's malnourished.' Wonder Girl replied. 'Besides, she likes it and seems to be peaceful for now. M'gann, Artemis, we're going shopping later on when it reaches noon and taking Evie with us.'

The teenage demigoddess saw Eva hold her arms out and complies, lifting her up and setting her to latch on her front like a koala. Wonder Girl smells her unmarked scent glands, it was hidden from others and seems to be sweet. Eva hums and enjoyed the comfort from this strong female who was willing to cradle her like a little baby, which was ironic cause the clown princess was somehow the youngest out of the youngsters in this room.

M'gann and Artemis took off the makeup inside the large bathtub to see that Eva was completely healed. The female trio begun getting rid of the dyes and paints on her body while checking for more bruises. Wonder Girl did an amazing job finding some worthy products that will wash away paints, dyes, makeup, and other things as they gave her a nice bath.

The girls saw that she was a natural ginger with green eyes and ivory skin, Eva was blushing in embarrassment with closed eyes as she covers her body with a large towel. M'gann saw her insecurities through a telepathic link and hugged her while the small girl pouts up at the female Martian with teary eyes. Wonder Girl somehow found an outfit she was doing and got something for Eva, a cute one that'll make her stand out and look elegant.

"This will work for now, she'll love this." Artemis saw a casual attire with a nod of approval and got Eva out of the tub with M'gann's help.

M'gann and Artemis left for a bit, so that Opal can fix Eva up with her attire till they reached the mall. The teenage demigoddess removed the hair extensions and begun styling it in a way that makes the young red-headed girl look graceful. After doing that, she places some natural makeup and use her chi-bending to heal up everything till it was permanently removed.

"And here's what Eva Nelson should be looking like," the girl's green eyes opened to see the real version without any paint and dyes, smiling softly at the features and how Opal captured everything. "Your family will be so happy and amazed that you took their genes. They'll always forever stay in your heart, be bold and always keep your loved ones safe."

The boys were waiting as M'gann and Artemis went to check on Eva. They immediately squealed and were cooing at the cuteness of this outfit. She wore a scarlet red shirt with the black cat logo, long white thigh-high socks, crimson red and black sneakers, a gray plaid miniskirt, her short hair was in a high ponytail, and her face was done very well with natural makeup and a bit of rosy blush on it.

Eva was dragged into the living room by Artemis who lifts her off her seat and the boys froze to see what Opal did to her. She looks so matured and elegant. Eva held her hands together and tilts her head at the four young men's wide-eyed expression with a nervous look.

Opal places Kaldur's jacket to cover Eva and make the young magic-user comfy before putting her white beanie hat on her head. The little girl sighs and nuzzles into the clothing when she gets Koneko from M'gann. Opal picks her up and smiles when the boys can see how Eva likes to be carried around within her consent.

"We got a news update, the Joker, Harley Quinn, and Andrew Merry have been officially charged with multiple crimes including child kidnapping and attempted rape. The victim was shockingly Punchline, she has left proof and details of what they've done to her in police custody. She's currently being put under the Justice League's supervision and all her charges have been dropped after multiple people came forward with evidence that she never kills innocents." Eva gave the Team a questioning look of confusion over the teenage demigoddess's right shoulder and they all responded with reassuring expressions.

"Evie, we're going to the mall with the girls and get a few things for you. M'gann and Artemis will hold you if I need to do something important. That's good with you kiddo?" Eva nodded and clung onto Opal's front in response. "Keep that hat over your head and make sure you tell us whenever you want something. Kaldur, Conner, I know you two will turn that empty guest room into her bedroom, so I trust both of you men to watch over the mountain. Wally, Dick, you boys better not doing anything stupid and go fix us a nest in the heat room."

The girls left through the garage, Opal drives them through the road and kept a close eye on Eva. She was resting in Artemis's lap and was hugging Koneko close to her. M'gann took a quick photo till Opal parks at a good spot and the three women got the youngest girl out.

"Aww, she's so cute!/She looks so beautiful!/Such an adorable little angel!/Those girls are lucky to scent mark her!" Eva blushed as the comments and praises she's getting from random people when Opal pulls her hood down.

"See what I meant Artie, she'll be getting admirers by the time we leave here cause she's unclaimed and has to be constantly watched over. Not only that...smell her scent." Artemis complied and gently smelt her unmarked scent glands...it smells like cherry blossoms and wild strawberries.

"Strawberries and blossoms. Evie, are you...an omega?" Eva nodded and went behind M'gann out of instinct. "It's okay sweet girl, I've been marked by Wally. M'gann is bonded to Conner like Kaldur is with Opal, you're still unclaimed and have to find your soulmates. You're just the only omega in the Team for now Evie, though Dick will probably court you soon and mark you for your safety."

Eva giggles softly, blushing hard when all three girls heard it and smile down at her. Artemis cradles the omega in her arms, nuzzling her nose into her scent gland and smiling at the small omega. M'gann and Opal got the right sizes for Eva to wear around everyday till she gets better once she begins growing up.

The four girls left the stores and made sure Eva was content after feeding her some mixed berry yogurt with a side of sugar-coated fruit. She was waiting patiently for their stop at the mountain and was hoisted up by M'gann. Eva releases her scent and the three girls hummed in appreciation as they got out of the car.

"How's your trip ladies?" Wally asked them, kissing Artemis and nuzzling Eva's scent gland.

"We found out her rank was an omega, then she decides to mark us with her scent along the way back here...now my car smells like blossoms and strawberries." Dick got the whiff of the scent and was truly into the smell.

"We smelt that far away, she's a pure fecund omega." Conner stated until Eva's sixth senses and future vision read his aura, it was red as a ruby.

Eva hops down and hugs the clone tight while Wolf licks her hand, earning a giggle from her. Conner gave Dick the "I told you so" look and hugs her back, knowing that she loves animals. Kaldur finishes reading the book and understood what alien race Inza came from to what the spark is...Eva's half Magen and Anodite.

'I found out what planet Jolene came from, Anodyne.' Kaldur told the Team, picking the omega up and kissing her cheek. 'Eva's spark is still active, but she hasn't awakened her mana yet.'

Eva smiles at him and leans her head on his left shoulder. Kaldur carries the small girl to her room and hears her purr softly in content. He lay her on her new bed after carefully takes his jacket back and removing those black shoes from the half-Anodite.

The small girl wiped the makeup from her face and put her hair down. Eva takes her stuffed animal and closes her eyes when Kaldur pulls a blanket to cover her. The half-Atlantean kisses her forehead and leaves the room after hearing her soft breaths.

"Eva's now resting, it looks like you ladies tired her out." Opal smiled before kissing him and parting away to watch the omega. "She's going to fit in with the Team very well."

•∞•∞•∞•∞•∞•∞•∞•∞•∞•∞•∞•∞•∞•∞•∞•∞•∞•∞•∞•∞••∞•∞•∞•∞•∞•∞•

It was five years since Eva came home, though her pack seems to be feeling a bit worried and were skeptical about getting near her. As a fecund omega female who learned how to control all of her cosmic phoenix and pure magic energy, her final transformation has surprised them a lot cause they didn't expect Anodites to be...some beautiful glowing aliens. Eva was healthy enough to do missions and help innocents, but this time was a conflict between herself due to her rank...she was in heat.

The omega went into hiding at her bedroom and kept herself "busy" with some "friends". Eva already contacted the League about her situation and was mentally praying that her mates help her. Out of everything in the world...her first heat has to be right on when she finally becomes legal to drink alcohol and buy a gun.

Suddenly, her phone starts ringing as she finishes off her recent climax and grabs it with her glowing mana tendril. Eva freezes to see that her pack wanted a group chat and chose to video call her. She has no choice but to do the right thing...answer and put it on speaker.

Eva Nelson {scared}: Hello?

Dick Grayson {serious}: Evie, where are you?

Eva Nelson {nervous}: I'm reading in the Bludhaven Library with Jason.

Wally West {skeptical}: Don't lie babygirl, Jason told us you were there to get him some books at Gotham and came back home.

Artemis Crock {solemn}: Roy also mentioned you went somewhere last night before your birthday.

Eva Nelson {timid}: I was at Anodyne getting some wine from my grandma Jolene.

M'gann M'orzz/Megan Morse {suspicious}: Evie, you're lying to us. Please tell us what you're doing, it can't be that bad.

Eva Nelson {panicking}: I'm not telling all of you my business. Please leave me alone!

Kon-El/Conner Kent {agitated}: Evelina...

Eva Nelson {anxious}: WHAT THE HELL DO YOU PEOPLE WANT FROM ME?!!

Bellatrix/Ophelia Trevor {aggravated}: You're hiding something Omega.

Kaldur'ahm/Jackson Hyde {displeased}: Omega, just tell us or else.

Eva Nelson {irritated}: Or else what Alpha? You and our pack got no damn right to make me listen. Y'all know what, I'm spending this heat all by myself and have some fun afterwards. Goodbye.

Eva froze when she typed that and grew scared cause she knew Kaldur was known to be very calm, but can be provoked like the others as an apex alpha. She gulps and sets the phone down until she heard it vibrate again. Eva looks at the text from Opal, shivering and panting while trying to stay calm.

Bellatrix/Ophelia Trevor {enraged}: That's it Evelina, we're going over to your home. Don't even try escaping, Dick shut down all the Boom Tubes.

Eva Nelson {blunt}: BITE ME. Do y'all realize I can teleport you idiots?

Eva shuts down her phone and puts it away before going invisible. She hears banging on the door and went under the bed. The half-Anodite slowly opens the hatch to her tunnels and crawled into them.

"EVELINA GWENDOLYN NELSON, YOU BETTER BE FUCKING HERE!!" Opal shouted angrily as her inner alpha took over.

Eva tried her best keeping her scent hidden from her pack after noticing the matching marks on them. She found the same mark on the small of her back and grew frightened...she just pissed off all of her soulmates. The magic-user's inner omega begun whimpering in her mind and she shivers, accidentally letting out her pheromones by mistake.

'NO, NO, NO...' Eva thought while silently whining underneath her breath. 'WHY NOW?!!'

Conner picks up the damiliar scent and looked under the bed to see a hatch to the tunnels. He hears the half-Anodite's sounds of fear and pain through them, which made the clone realize where she's going...to random rooms till she was safe from them. Eva locks the hatches on every dorm and went to her private place...her meditation room to get some pure mana.

"Eva's attempting to make us chase her around the mountain, looks like we'll have to hunt her down...again." The Team split up and went their own ways.

The Lucky Girl was getting tired and decided to head towards the heat room after absorbing tons of mana from her meditation room. The magic-user shifts to her hybrid form; her mana hair was pink like her glowing eyes, her skin tone turns purple, and everything else stays the same. Eva was a bit happy that she was wearing something old and comfy, though little does she know is that her seven soulmates found her in a deep sleep.

'Found her, she's sleeping in our nest at the heat room.' The Team followed where Artemis told them where Eva was, pausing to see the half-Anodite snoozing peacefully.

'We got enough time to punish Eva,' Opal disrobing the omega out of her clothes and letting Dick tie her up.

Wally was brave enough to gag her and put a blindfold over her closed eyes. The rest knew she'll break free quick, so they let Kaldur put an enchanted collar Eva's neck and wrap some tape tightly around where she can't cut herself loose. Conner kept a sharp eye on the beating sounds of her heart while she was somewhat lifeless and unresponsive through her sleep.

Dick heard a muffled hum and turned to look down at the omega while Artemis fondled her breast. M'gann moved her fingers to her sacred spot and rubbed that sensitive pearl, earning more muffled sounds of pleasure from the omega underneath them. Eva whimpers and mewls through the ball gag while arching her back from the sensation she was experiencing.

"She's in heat," the Romanian acrobat told his pack mates after picking up the scent and saw her slicking up.

"No wonder Evie was trying to avoid us, she didn't want anybody worrying about her." Wally said, freezing when Eva somehow came by M'gann messing with her clit.

"She got our full attention now, that soul mark wasn't that easy to hide from us. I'm somewhat thankful that we made her put on that dress from last time," the rest of the Team chuckled while nodding at the memory and kept focusing on preparing Eva for this mating season.

The half-Anodite shockingly got out of the ropes and tapes the Team tied on her. Eva got the blindfold off from her eyes and pulls the ball gag out of her mouth. Her pack heard her panting and surrounded their fecund omega within seconds, marking her as theirs as she starts mewling in pleasure.

"Please...I don't care, choke me, fuck me, give me all y'all have...now!" The Team's eyes turned different colors as they growled and she was taken any way possible since she was incredibly flexible.

Eva squealed and cried out whenever she got filled up to the brim. Their claim marks painted on her body while she took everything they gave her and accepted herself as their omega. The red marks and love bites were part of the whole ordeal, though breeding Eva was another thing coming from today to next week since her heat lasts 7 to 14 days.

They took turns and knew that the Lucky Girl want it to be rough. Eva got bred full of their seeds by each member, pumping her full with a large load of cum and letting her swallow their spit. The Lucky Girl felt each of them call for her to let herself be caught in the euphoria, submitting herself to her mates and taking what they got for this omega.

Dick was the first person to mate on Sunday with her since they anonymously voted to go by their age range and let Kaldur be last on Saturday. The half-Atlantean have the most patience, but knew that he'll break Eva in half and wanted his younger pack mates to stretch her open first for him to fit. They stuffed her full of cock and made the half-Anodite speechless.

The Team moved in together at Happy Harbor and kept the mountain as their base. Whenever they left to take breaks, Eva tends to stay in the nest and purring while being full of cum. It amazes them that she can still speak and move, but they would question where their cum will go since they always plugged her afterwards with their knots...she would answer by rubbing where her womb was or...she'll say that her body was absorbing it since it contains mana.

Kaldur pulls out after his knot went down and couldn't see his cum leaking out as usual. He kisses her stomach and rubs it tenderly when Eva got her last shot. The half-Anodite found out secretly that her pack wants a family and knew they'll breed her, but doesn't know that she recently got off of induced heat suppressants and birth control pills.

It was a day after her heat was over to do tests...they got her pregnant after last night, Eva was blushing madly as the Team grins down at her rosy cheeks and reddened face when she found what they've left on her body to how they somehow got her pregnant that quick. Dick was carrying her in his arms after she couldn't move from the nest and let Wally know that their omega was sore. Artemis takes Eva and puts her on her lap, purring softly in order to comfort the omega.

"We're not slacking little girl...we took turns and gave you what we got. You didn't realize that there's three apex primes in this pack with three pure alphas and one true beta. Next time you sweet fecund omega, you should never underestimate us and this won't happen to you." Opal lectured her.

"I get that Opal, but why y'all have to gang up on me like that last week?!! I can't stand straight and move normal anymore!" Wally busted out laughing hard with Dick and they fist-bumped each other in response.

"But I'll be surprised you're still wonderfully tight after we've been splitting you in half, fucking you in any way necessary, and opening you wide to take us down your tiny little throat." the half-Anodite turned redder than ever and gave the Team a horrified look. "Don't act scared Eva, we still got more left and I think we should appreciate you carrying our pups."

What a pleasing yet sore way to start the morning after a heat indeed.

[ariyougood]

ASTRAPHOBIA ⚡︎ W. West

IN WHICH:

- ASTRA was born to be a hero and it won't take much convincing for the justice league to look past her playful remarks to realize that.

↳ OR

- KAMILA CARTER is just figuring it out as she goes, and if she steals a few kisses from her best friend along the way who's gonna care?

[candy8448]

Hehe in yj the heroes do like nothing at all to hide their secret identities XD its like, in season 1, robin is extra with his name not even letting his team know

But like

Connor is LITTERALLY just looking the exact same as superboy, the exact same shirt... for 8+ years, all the time every day both as a hero and as a civillian, how is anybody gonna think they are different people?

Megan (at least in s1) looks to same as miss m and as megan m'oors judt with green skin, but like, people know martians can shape shirt right? Is this common knowledge in this world or is it not known?

Artemis litterally did not even change her name to have a hero name lol and she also has a super distinct voice

Kaldur is fine cuz he isnt even really a civillian on the surface world and the atlantians know he is a hero

But like so many heroes later on just wear the same clothes both as a civillian and as a hero and some

Idk, ig its cuz in s1 and 2 the team is a secret team so the public don't kniw about them but still, im with Bart on this one, the secret identities dont feel important at least in yj universe lol

But the masks do help. When dick first took his mask off in s3 for the first time we saw his full face i was so thrown off, like they look similar but you just woul dnot be able to tell especially if nightwing swooshes past you (a civillian) with his mask on and you dont get to see his full face, the eye masks do really work

(And no, if superboy swooshes past you, a big shirt with a big red emblem simple to remember and the exact one as your classmate connor is more memorable, and because you can see superboy's full face, even when he swooshes by you, you are able to still compare it more than if say the eyes were covered)

[theasternautart]

I loved all of the updated character designs in Season 4 of Young Justice especially Miss Martian. I love how the changes in her character design over the years have reflected her character development throughout the show. Her design in Season 4 has to be my favorite look out of all of them. Don't forget to like, reblog, and follow for more! ✨

[shoot-i-messed-up]

Not a yj 00s comics enjoyer or a yj cartoon enjoyer but a secret third thing (gay for certain characters)

My fave doodles:

please ignore the screencap sketches in the corner, it only lives on in my dreams bc Artemis and punk Kon would have THE funniest and therefore best dynamic and u cannot convince me otherwise. We were robbed