(no subject)
Five minutes. That’s what he’d told Robin. He’d be five minutes there and back. He just needed to talk to this other Kon-el. Superman. Needed to talk to him about Lex Luthor and the part of Kon’s DNA that didn’t belong to Clark. Robin didn’t really understand, but it was something Kon had to do. Maybe he could come to terms with it if he had a talk with his other self. While he was stuck there. Hopefully not for much longer.
He wanted to go home. He’d been stuck in the future for months and, okay, maybe he’d actually gotten to like it there, but he’d chosen between the Titans and the Legion. It wasn’t really a choice, in the end. He belonged with the Titans. Id, Ego, and Superego. Bart, himself, and Tim. And Cassie, of course. Couldn’t forget Cassie. And Gar and Vic. And even Kory when she wasn’t trying to kill him because of Krypto eating her garden.
But he’d made the choice and now to be stuck ten years ahead of where he was supposed to be with people who said they were…them. Even Robin seemed to believe it, and it was pretty hard to pull anything past him.
He floated down the stairs, lost in thought, but stopped when he saw a picture on the wall. “Speedy?” There was an unfamiliar face and uniform. “That’s not Cissie. Who-?”
He went dead quiet at the sound of a voice. His voice, but not. Superman. The Kon-el from this time. It was coming from down the hall, but they weren’t making much of an effort to be quiet. And besides. Superhearing, anyone?
“We shouldn’t let them stay here.” He didn’t - Superman didn’t - want them there? Kon kept quiet and floated down the hall, keeping his ears open.
“Where else would we put them, Conner? The Phantom Zone? You know what happened when we imprisoned Brother Blood and Brainiac.” And that was Cassie. Kon didn’t like the sound of that. Why hadn’t they been turned over to the police? And what had happened to them that had put that note of concern in Cassie’s voice?
“I’m just saying, Cassie, I know what I was like. Each one of us knows what we were like.”
Yeah, so what were we like? Kon wanted to say. He continued moving closer, the voices getting a little softer as he got close enough to hear them without the superhearing.
“We were kids, Conner.”
And there was the door. Kon got as close as he dared and peered around the corner. There was Batman and Wonder Woman and Superman. The adult Gar and that fish-lady were there, too.
“Today we’re better,” Batman said. And didn’t that just sound creepy. Not older, not more experienced, but better. “We’ll handle this my way. It won’t hurt them, but it will get the job done.” Okay, it was official. He didn’t like this guy, even if it was Tim. Tim might have had his Batman’s protégé moments, but he never sounded quite so doom and gloom.
“I still can’t believe this is happening,” the fish-girl said.
“Believe it, Lorena,” Batman returned. Lorena. Pretty name.
“Rrff…and what about him?” Obviously they were talking about someone. Maybe someone in the room, and Kon just had to see who it was. He sidled even closer, not even daring to breath in case Superman decided to pay attention to something outside the room.
“He’ll talk, Gar.” Even the original Batman never quite had that cold sound to his voice. Disinterested, maybe, but never cold. “He’ll tell us what Victor and the others are up to…or Superman will burn his other arm off.”
Finally, he could see who it was. Deathstroke. They were holding Deathstroke prisoner and he only had one arm. Carefully, still not breathing, he moved away from the door, flying so he wouldn’t be heard. And then, going down one particular corner, he dropped to the ground. He wasn’t sure whether it was the nerves or something more sinister, but he didn’t question it. Instead, he took off, running through the hallways, struggling to remember where they’d been. It was only when he was down one hallway that he realized that he’d been heading to his old quarters and these…these…bad guys had set them up in another section of the tower. Turning back, he retraced his steps, frowning to himself as he got lost.
Granted, it had been a while since he’d been to the Tower, but his memory couldn’t be that fuzzy, could it?
“Robin?” he called softly, flinching at the sound of his voice in the quiet hall. They could hear him, he knew they could. “Robin!” Nothing. “Tim! C’mon!” What did he care about secret identities in a place that was full of people who’d known him for years? Just as long as it got him his best friend, he’d be happy with that.
He wanted to go home. He’d been stuck in the future for months and, okay, maybe he’d actually gotten to like it there, but he’d chosen between the Titans and the Legion. It wasn’t really a choice, in the end. He belonged with the Titans. Id, Ego, and Superego. Bart, himself, and Tim. And Cassie, of course. Couldn’t forget Cassie. And Gar and Vic. And even Kory when she wasn’t trying to kill him because of Krypto eating her garden.
But he’d made the choice and now to be stuck ten years ahead of where he was supposed to be with people who said they were…them. Even Robin seemed to believe it, and it was pretty hard to pull anything past him.
He floated down the stairs, lost in thought, but stopped when he saw a picture on the wall. “Speedy?” There was an unfamiliar face and uniform. “That’s not Cissie. Who-?”
He went dead quiet at the sound of a voice. His voice, but not. Superman. The Kon-el from this time. It was coming from down the hall, but they weren’t making much of an effort to be quiet. And besides. Superhearing, anyone?
“We shouldn’t let them stay here.” He didn’t - Superman didn’t - want them there? Kon kept quiet and floated down the hall, keeping his ears open.
“Where else would we put them, Conner? The Phantom Zone? You know what happened when we imprisoned Brother Blood and Brainiac.” And that was Cassie. Kon didn’t like the sound of that. Why hadn’t they been turned over to the police? And what had happened to them that had put that note of concern in Cassie’s voice?
“I’m just saying, Cassie, I know what I was like. Each one of us knows what we were like.”
Yeah, so what were we like? Kon wanted to say. He continued moving closer, the voices getting a little softer as he got close enough to hear them without the superhearing.
“We were kids, Conner.”
And there was the door. Kon got as close as he dared and peered around the corner. There was Batman and Wonder Woman and Superman. The adult Gar and that fish-lady were there, too.
“Today we’re better,” Batman said. And didn’t that just sound creepy. Not older, not more experienced, but better. “We’ll handle this my way. It won’t hurt them, but it will get the job done.” Okay, it was official. He didn’t like this guy, even if it was Tim. Tim might have had his Batman’s protégé moments, but he never sounded quite so doom and gloom.
“I still can’t believe this is happening,” the fish-girl said.
“Believe it, Lorena,” Batman returned. Lorena. Pretty name.
“Rrff…and what about him?” Obviously they were talking about someone. Maybe someone in the room, and Kon just had to see who it was. He sidled even closer, not even daring to breath in case Superman decided to pay attention to something outside the room.
“He’ll talk, Gar.” Even the original Batman never quite had that cold sound to his voice. Disinterested, maybe, but never cold. “He’ll tell us what Victor and the others are up to…or Superman will burn his other arm off.”
Finally, he could see who it was. Deathstroke. They were holding Deathstroke prisoner and he only had one arm. Carefully, still not breathing, he moved away from the door, flying so he wouldn’t be heard. And then, going down one particular corner, he dropped to the ground. He wasn’t sure whether it was the nerves or something more sinister, but he didn’t question it. Instead, he took off, running through the hallways, struggling to remember where they’d been. It was only when he was down one hallway that he realized that he’d been heading to his old quarters and these…these…bad guys had set them up in another section of the tower. Turning back, he retraced his steps, frowning to himself as he got lost.
Granted, it had been a while since he’d been to the Tower, but his memory couldn’t be that fuzzy, could it?
“Robin?” he called softly, flinching at the sound of his voice in the quiet hall. They could hear him, he knew they could. “Robin!” Nothing. “Tim! C’mon!” What did he care about secret identities in a place that was full of people who’d known him for years? Just as long as it got him his best friend, he’d be happy with that.