fic: Face Up and Sing (Young Justice animated; Superboy, Superman; g)
Face Up and Sing
Young Justice (animated); Superboy, Superman, Batman, Martha Kent; g; 1,305 words
"You leave me no choice, Clark. I'm going over your head."
I don't even know. This is all
goss's fault. Title from Ani DiFranco.
~*~
Face Up and Sing
"You can't shirk this responsibility forever, Clark."
Superboy recognizes Batman's voice, though he's not sure who Clark is.
"I'm not sure how it is my responsibility."
Superboy's hand clenches into a fist and he bites down hard on his lower lip to keep from making a sound. Clark is Superman. He didn't even know Superman had a civilian identity. And he's going to have to pretend he doesn't know now, because they don't know he's listening. The range of his superhearing fluctuates, and they probably think they're safe in the training room.
"He's your clone."
"I didn't make him."
"Would you listen to yourself? You'd take responsibility for climate change if you had half a chance--"
"And you're always telling me I take too much responsibility, that not everything is my fault."
"Climate change isn't your fault, and neither is this." Batman sounds angry. Well, angrier. "But you can't help this kid out?'"
"Oh, now he's a kid? You called him 'it' when you met him. You talked a lot about how he was a genetically engineered weapon and how we had to make sure he wasn't some kind of sleeper agent waiting to be triggered by some shadowy organization even you haven't been able to unravel. Since when did you become an altruist?"
"J'onn's found no evidence of triggers. And it's not his fault he was grown in a test tube."
"It's not my fault, either." Superman sounds petulant. Superboy only knows the word because Robin said it about him the last time he lost at Mario Kart and crushed the controller. Superman, he realizes, sounds like him. Or the other way around, really, but he's not going to split hairs.
"Nobody said it was."
They're talking over each other now, still low, but intense. "It's not like I knocked someone up and walked out."
"Is that what this is about? The fact that you and Lois can't--"
"You don't want to finish that sentence." For once, Superman sounds just as scary as Batman. Superboy didn't even know he could sound like that.
"Fine," Batman says. "Maybe I can't make you see reason, but I know who can."
"What?"
"You leave me no choice, Clark. I'm going over your head."
"You leave Lois out of this."
Batman makes a sound that's probably supposed to be a laugh. It makes all the hair on Superboy's body stand up and sends a chill down his spine. "Who said anything about Lois?"
*
Superboy is in the living room when Batman comes back the next day. He has a lady with him. Superboy wonders if this is the Lois they were talking about.
"Superboy," Batman says. Superboy stands up straight and tries to look trustworthy. "This is Martha Kent."
"Oh, my," she says, putting a hand up to her mouth. Her eyes shine like she's going to cry.
Superboy says, "Ma'am," because that's what Wally told him he should say to older ladies. He isn't sure what else he should do, so he just stands there.
"You look just like Clark did when he was sixteen," she says, and then she's hugging him. The top of her head fits right under his nose and she smells good, like M'gann's cookies right before they start to burn.
"Uh," is about all Superboy can manage. He holds himself stiff and raises his hand to pat Mrs. Kent's back gently. His shirt is warm and wet from her tears.
There's a rush of air and a blue blur and Superman is there. "Ma," he says, "Ma, I can explain."
"Mrs. Kent is Superman's mother," Batman says, as if Superboy hadn't just figured that out, and though only one corner of Batman's mouth twitches, Superboy thinks he might be smiling.
Superboy moves his arms back to his sides again, because he's not sure he should be touching Superman's mom. She feels very small and fragile and he's afraid he might break her like he breaks everything else he touches. She lets him go and steps back, then pats him gently on the cheek. Then she turns and faces Superman.
"What's going on here, Clark?"
"I'm Superman's clone," Superboy says before anyone else can. "I was made in a lab." He's not ashamed of it. It's just the facts. "I'm not your grandson."
"Oh," Mrs. Kent says. "What's your name?"
"Superboy."
"No, dear, what's your real name?"
"I--That's the only name I have." He looks down at his boots. "The others call me Supey sometimes."
She puts a hand on his shoulder, and he can feel strength in it, for all her fragility. Then she cups his cheek again, tips his face up. Her hand is warm. "Please wait here for a moment. Clark and I have some things to discuss."
"Yes, ma'am."
She takes Superman by the elbow and leads him into the next room. Superboy remains where he is and tries to pretend he's not straining to hear their conversation.
Batman has melted into the shadows in the corner, and Superboy doesn't look to him for support or guidance. He just says, "Thank you."
"Don't thank me yet."
Superboy shrugs and tunes back into the discussion going on in the other room.
"I didn't ask for this, Ma."
"No, of course not, but he needs you."
"I don't see why it has to be me. Any of the others could mentor him."
"Now you're just being obtuse."
"I'm not--I can't--"
"You can," she says. "Who better than you?"
Superman sighs. "I suppose you'll want him to come live on the farm."
"I think that's best, don't you?" She laughs softly. "You'll have to give him a name first."
Superman laughs, too, and Superboy feels a warmth in his chest that's like the first time he felt sunlight on his skin.
They come back into the room and Superman--Clark--says, "I don't know how much of that you heard," he brushes a hand through his hair and looks down at his boots like he's embarrassed, "but Ma and I would both really appreciate it if you went to live at the farm with her. It's--it's where I grew up. You could go to school there and come back here on weekends and for missions."
"And you'd visit?" Superboy tries not to sound too eager, but he can't stop himself from blurting out the question.
"And I would visit," Superman confirms, glancing over at the corner where Batman is lurking. "Also, and I should have done this when we first met, my Kryptonian name is Kal-El. If it's okay with you, your Kryptonian name would be Kon-El."
"It's okay with me."
Superman smiles. "But you couldn't use that in school, so you could be, uh, Conner."
"Conner Kent," Mrs. Kent says, and she's smiling, too. It's easy to smile back at her.
Superboy--Kon-El--feels that warmth in his chest again, and a tightness in his throat that makes it hard to get words out. "Thank you, ma'am. I would like that very much."
"Wonderful." Mrs. Kent takes a tissue out of her pocket and dabs at her eyes. "Let's go get your things packed, shall we?" She takes him by the arm the same way she'd taken Superman earlier, and he realizes that even though he could easily break away from her, he never will.
As they sort through his meager wardrobe, he can hear Superman say, "I can't believe you brought my mother into this. You're usually a lot more subtle than that."
"Subtle doesn't always work on you," Batman answers. "Sometimes, even anvils don't work on you."
"You're not the first person to say that. I owe you for this."
"You can thank me later."
Superman laughs. "You can be sure I will."
Superboy's pretty sure he's missing something, but he doesn't care. He's going home.
end
~*~
Feedback would be lovely.
~*~
This entry at DW: http://musesfool.dreamwidth.org/293671.html.
people have commented there.
Young Justice (animated); Superboy, Superman, Batman, Martha Kent; g; 1,305 words
"You leave me no choice, Clark. I'm going over your head."
I don't even know. This is all
goss's fault. Title from Ani DiFranco.
~*~
Face Up and Sing
"You can't shirk this responsibility forever, Clark."
Superboy recognizes Batman's voice, though he's not sure who Clark is.
"I'm not sure how it is my responsibility."
Superboy's hand clenches into a fist and he bites down hard on his lower lip to keep from making a sound. Clark is Superman. He didn't even know Superman had a civilian identity. And he's going to have to pretend he doesn't know now, because they don't know he's listening. The range of his superhearing fluctuates, and they probably think they're safe in the training room.
"He's your clone."
"I didn't make him."
"Would you listen to yourself? You'd take responsibility for climate change if you had half a chance--"
"And you're always telling me I take too much responsibility, that not everything is my fault."
"Climate change isn't your fault, and neither is this." Batman sounds angry. Well, angrier. "But you can't help this kid out?'"
"Oh, now he's a kid? You called him 'it' when you met him. You talked a lot about how he was a genetically engineered weapon and how we had to make sure he wasn't some kind of sleeper agent waiting to be triggered by some shadowy organization even you haven't been able to unravel. Since when did you become an altruist?"
"J'onn's found no evidence of triggers. And it's not his fault he was grown in a test tube."
"It's not my fault, either." Superman sounds petulant. Superboy only knows the word because Robin said it about him the last time he lost at Mario Kart and crushed the controller. Superman, he realizes, sounds like him. Or the other way around, really, but he's not going to split hairs.
"Nobody said it was."
They're talking over each other now, still low, but intense. "It's not like I knocked someone up and walked out."
"Is that what this is about? The fact that you and Lois can't--"
"You don't want to finish that sentence." For once, Superman sounds just as scary as Batman. Superboy didn't even know he could sound like that.
"Fine," Batman says. "Maybe I can't make you see reason, but I know who can."
"What?"
"You leave me no choice, Clark. I'm going over your head."
"You leave Lois out of this."
Batman makes a sound that's probably supposed to be a laugh. It makes all the hair on Superboy's body stand up and sends a chill down his spine. "Who said anything about Lois?"
*
Superboy is in the living room when Batman comes back the next day. He has a lady with him. Superboy wonders if this is the Lois they were talking about.
"Superboy," Batman says. Superboy stands up straight and tries to look trustworthy. "This is Martha Kent."
"Oh, my," she says, putting a hand up to her mouth. Her eyes shine like she's going to cry.
Superboy says, "Ma'am," because that's what Wally told him he should say to older ladies. He isn't sure what else he should do, so he just stands there.
"You look just like Clark did when he was sixteen," she says, and then she's hugging him. The top of her head fits right under his nose and she smells good, like M'gann's cookies right before they start to burn.
"Uh," is about all Superboy can manage. He holds himself stiff and raises his hand to pat Mrs. Kent's back gently. His shirt is warm and wet from her tears.
There's a rush of air and a blue blur and Superman is there. "Ma," he says, "Ma, I can explain."
"Mrs. Kent is Superman's mother," Batman says, as if Superboy hadn't just figured that out, and though only one corner of Batman's mouth twitches, Superboy thinks he might be smiling.
Superboy moves his arms back to his sides again, because he's not sure he should be touching Superman's mom. She feels very small and fragile and he's afraid he might break her like he breaks everything else he touches. She lets him go and steps back, then pats him gently on the cheek. Then she turns and faces Superman.
"What's going on here, Clark?"
"I'm Superman's clone," Superboy says before anyone else can. "I was made in a lab." He's not ashamed of it. It's just the facts. "I'm not your grandson."
"Oh," Mrs. Kent says. "What's your name?"
"Superboy."
"No, dear, what's your real name?"
"I--That's the only name I have." He looks down at his boots. "The others call me Supey sometimes."
She puts a hand on his shoulder, and he can feel strength in it, for all her fragility. Then she cups his cheek again, tips his face up. Her hand is warm. "Please wait here for a moment. Clark and I have some things to discuss."
"Yes, ma'am."
She takes Superman by the elbow and leads him into the next room. Superboy remains where he is and tries to pretend he's not straining to hear their conversation.
Batman has melted into the shadows in the corner, and Superboy doesn't look to him for support or guidance. He just says, "Thank you."
"Don't thank me yet."
Superboy shrugs and tunes back into the discussion going on in the other room.
"I didn't ask for this, Ma."
"No, of course not, but he needs you."
"I don't see why it has to be me. Any of the others could mentor him."
"Now you're just being obtuse."
"I'm not--I can't--"
"You can," she says. "Who better than you?"
Superman sighs. "I suppose you'll want him to come live on the farm."
"I think that's best, don't you?" She laughs softly. "You'll have to give him a name first."
Superman laughs, too, and Superboy feels a warmth in his chest that's like the first time he felt sunlight on his skin.
They come back into the room and Superman--Clark--says, "I don't know how much of that you heard," he brushes a hand through his hair and looks down at his boots like he's embarrassed, "but Ma and I would both really appreciate it if you went to live at the farm with her. It's--it's where I grew up. You could go to school there and come back here on weekends and for missions."
"And you'd visit?" Superboy tries not to sound too eager, but he can't stop himself from blurting out the question.
"And I would visit," Superman confirms, glancing over at the corner where Batman is lurking. "Also, and I should have done this when we first met, my Kryptonian name is Kal-El. If it's okay with you, your Kryptonian name would be Kon-El."
"It's okay with me."
Superman smiles. "But you couldn't use that in school, so you could be, uh, Conner."
"Conner Kent," Mrs. Kent says, and she's smiling, too. It's easy to smile back at her.
Superboy--Kon-El--feels that warmth in his chest again, and a tightness in his throat that makes it hard to get words out. "Thank you, ma'am. I would like that very much."
"Wonderful." Mrs. Kent takes a tissue out of her pocket and dabs at her eyes. "Let's go get your things packed, shall we?" She takes him by the arm the same way she'd taken Superman earlier, and he realizes that even though he could easily break away from her, he never will.
As they sort through his meager wardrobe, he can hear Superman say, "I can't believe you brought my mother into this. You're usually a lot more subtle than that."
"Subtle doesn't always work on you," Batman answers. "Sometimes, even anvils don't work on you."
"You're not the first person to say that. I owe you for this."
"You can thank me later."
Superman laughs. "You can be sure I will."
Superboy's pretty sure he's missing something, but he doesn't care. He's going home.
end
~*~
Feedback would be lovely.
~*~
This entry at DW: http://musesfool.dreamwidth.org/293671.html.
people have commented there.