This came about because I was reading fic, and read something about Tim having scars. And I thought, ohhhh. Huh. :)

So. Superboy fic. :)

Superboy, Superman, and various member of the Teen Titans do not belong to me, and I’m making no money from this fic.

I picked up Chinese food on the way. The manager of the restaurant took one look at my cape and said it was on the house. I paid them anyway, and left a hefty tip. It seemed right.

My mother had called me half an hour earlier. Said Kon-El had been brooding about something, ever since he got back from the Tower the day before. Said, furthermore, that he'd spent the afternoon on the roof of the barn, and then flown off. She was a little annoyed. She worries about him.

If he's brooding and not on the roof of the barn, though, he's usually in one other spot.

I see him, perched on the top of the Sear's Tower, and land quietly. He hasn't gotten pizza yet, for which I'm grateful. The last thing I need is another rant from Aquaman about the irresponsibility of today's youth because Kon was throwing anchovies into the ocean. Again.

He doesn't ask how I found him. He never has.

I think about what to say as I sit down beside him, pulling out a carton of Chinese food and handing it to him with a fork. He never mastered the use of chopsticks. Given his TK, I think it's obstinance more than anything else.

We eat in silence for a while. He'll speak when he's ready.

"How do you do it?" he asks me finally.

"Do what?"

"Work with them. Knowing they're so . . . fragile."

I have no idea what he's talking about, but he's obviously upset. "Kon," I say calmly, "start from the beginning. What happened?"

He's silent. Then he takes a deep breath, staring down into his broccoli and beef as if it might have all the answers. "I was at the Tower yesterday. No emergency, just a bunch of us hanging out. It was nice. And then Cassie says she wants to go swimming 'cause, y'know, it is an island, only she doesn’t have her swimsuit. So I said she should just go in her underwear. I mean, it probably covers more than a bikini would. Well, she slapped the back of my head, which I didn't think I deserved because I wasn't being lecherous, but eventually one thing led to another…"

**

The girls had started out as modest as possible, wearing Kon and Vic's shirts and tugging them down, repeatedly, over clean boxers Bart had found. No one had asked where he'd found them.

The modesty had only lasted until Garth pantsed Robin, which was possibly the funniest thing Kon had ever seen even if it was in the water, so no one saw much. At that point, modesty was thrown out the window.

Which didn't really mean a lot. It wasn't like anyone got naked (unfortunately, Kon thought). But the girls ended up ditching the boxers and just swimming in their underwear, except Cissie, who said she couldn't because she was wearing white underwear, and Cassie'd ended up with Kon's shirt tied up under her breasts. Kon didn't even point out she was pulling it totally out of shape. For that, he didn't mind.

She flopped down in the grass beside him, out of breath from the most recent water fight, blond hair straggly and wet in its ponytail. A little way away, Robin 'ouched' at something and stuck his finger in his mouth. Then he'd come over too, and the three of them had sat there, silent, watching the others still playing. Cissie was trying to dunk Bart, and failing, and Gar had turned into a dolphin to try and herd Bart closer. Bart was still winning, even with his superspeed reduced by being in the water.

"This is fun."

Kon glanced at Robin, wearing too-big cut off jeans (Garth's) and a T-shirt (his own). Kon grinned. "Yeah." He looked forward again. Then glanced at Cassie. Her legs were very long, and very perfect, stretched out in the sun. "Hey, gorgeous."

She snorted. "You're so not suave."

Kon grinned. His gaze wandered, was caught by movement, idly watched Robin rub at a bruise on his calf. Kon looked back at Cassie, at the perfect skin of her legs, smooth and resilient. He shook his head. But his eyes were drawn back to that ugly bruise, turning purple on Tim's calf.

Tim sat up, stripping off his shirt and throwing it to one side before laying prone once more, an arm tossed over his eyes.

His chest was lined with scars. Small, most of them. One really ugly one across his shoulder. He had one stitch near his bellybutton.

Bart raced up, wearing only his jockeys and completely unselfconscious. "You wanna play Marko Polo?"

"Sure," Cassie said, standing.

Bart looked at him hopefully. "Maybe later," Kon said. He tried not to be obvious, tried not to look at Bart's body, but curiosity overrode him. Bart didn't seem to notice, and when he turned away Kon looked at him even more.

Not a scratch. Not even where that man had blown his knee out. Not a single scar to mar pink skin--not even freckles from sun damage. The superspeed meant super healing, too. Healing that fast left no scars.

Beside him, Tim slapped at a fly, then scratched absently at his collarbone. A collarbone with an odd lump, like it had been broken at some point.

His hands were crisscrossed with small lines and marks. There was a trail of shiny skin on his neck that ran uncomfortably close to an artery.

Kon looked out at the water. Beside him, Tim lifted his arm away and sat up. "I think I'll go join them," he said, as the first calls of 'Marco!' rang out. Kon watched him leave. His back was like a map. A bruise spread like dead land across his shoulderblades, and scars wound like roads over his skin. It was a map of someplace like Kansas, mostly empty, but Kon suddenly knew that it would be filled in, slowly.

Kon didn't have scars. He spent enough time in front of the mirror to know. Cassie didn't, either. Granted, he hadn't seen her back recently, but he'd seen her legs and they were scar free. Bruise free, even. Bart's skin was whole and unblemished.

He studied the game. When Cissie crawled silently out of the water, trying to trick Gar--"Marco"--Kon had a clear view of her spine. A long line stretched across it, moving with her skin every time she shifted.

Cissie jumped back into the water, splashing and squealing and trying to out-swim Garth. "No powers, no powers!" Kon heard her shout.

It was oddly appropriate.

**

"It's like they wear a sign. 'Hit me! I'm human! You can kill me!'" Kon sighs and swings his legs out over nothingness. "Robin's probably the best fighter on our team. And yet, he carries more injuries than any of the other supers. Just because he doesn't have powers. He can't heal. He isn't remotely invulnerable. And the armor in that suit? Not great. He has to be able to move quick, he says. So it has to be flexible, and the armor can't be heavy."

I just listen.

"I never realized how vulnerable they were. The humans on our team. I mean, they fight like us, as good as us, so I guess I just always figured they only got hurt as much as we did. But that's not true. They're… they're breakable."

There’s not much to say to that, and I suspected Kon is still working something out in his head anyway, so I stay silent.

"I never realized it, but walking into a fight you can tell who's got superpowers and who doesn't. Who you can hurt. Just look for the scars." Kon puts his head in both his hands, bracing against his knees, looking tired and worn. "Fuck."

I still say nothing. Beside us, the bag of Chinese food--now full of empty cartons and used utensils--flutters in the wind.

Kon looks up, at me for the first time tonight. "How do you deal with it?" Then his eyes refocus on something I can’t see, and he says, "What do you think they tell their parents?"

The second, I don't know. The first, I can help with. He sit forward, hands folded. Even my alien skin, tough beyond human understanding, is callused. "Protect them when you can. Support them when they're injured. Remember that this is their choice, and they go into it knowing full well what may happen."

"But how can they know?" Kon says, sounding frustrated and scared. "They don't seem to have any idea how breakable--"

"They know exactly how breakable they are," I interrupt quietly. "More so than we ever could."

Kon seems to digest that. "Now what do I do?"

I smile slightly, leaning back on my hands and staring out over the city below. It twinkles, loud to my ears even from this far up, and I sit amazed that most people can’t hear it. "The same thing you've been doing."

Kon stares down at the streets far below. "Do they know how easily they could die?"

It’s an honest question, and I have to stop and think about it.

"I mean, someone falling asleep at a steering wheel. Or tripping down the stairs."

"I don't think they're always aware of it, no," I said at last. "I think that on a subconscious level, they know. And on a conscious level, the world is too frightening a place to think about it all the time. But they know their limits, intrinsically."

Kon nods slowly.

Some of the tension has left him. He looks tired now, rather than upset. "You going to go home soon?"

Kon just nods. "I have school in the morning." For a moment, he’s quiet. Then, "If they knew how breakable they were, do you think they'd stop throwing themselves off buildings, hoping they might catch a line on the way down to stop their fall?"

I smile, thinking of the Batclan. "No more than the cop who faces down someone with a gun, or a fireman who rushes into a burning building will stop doing that if you explain their fragility."

Kon sits. Then gives one humorless laugh. "I suppose, whether it's a cop facing a human with a gun or Robin and Cissie facing Darksied, they're both likely to be injured or killed."

There’s a difference there, and an important one. "Not likely," I say. "It's possible. But it doesn't have to be likely."

Kon looks at me for the second time that evening. "That's what we're for?"

I smile. I can’t imagine Batman’s reaction if he thought I believed that. "Nah. That's what they prepare for. That's what they train for. That's what they know their limit for."

Kon looks back down at the street. "Oh. It's why Robin can kick ass, even though he's just human."

"Exactly."

We sit for a time more, but the crises seems to be over. I know dinner is waiting for me at home, and I don’t think Kon needs me so much now. I stand, resting a hand for just a moment on Kon's shoulder. "Don't stay out too late."

"I won't," Kon says. His voice lightens, like he might be smiling though he isn't entirely happy. "I have to go to class with a hundred other people who don't know how easily they could die."

I wish there is something perfect to say, something to restore Kon's confidence, to help him remember that the humans are to hold their own. And if there is something perfect like that, I wish someone would say it to me.

Instead, I say, "That's what we're there for." Then I squeeze Kon's shoulder one last time, and leap into the air.

*********

Back to the Batcave
Back to the living room