Author's Note: Here is the conclusion! I really like doing two-shots. I might do some more soon . . . Anyways, please enjoy!
Connor hated this.
He had nearly all of the superpowers Superman had—super strength, super speed, and agility—and yet, none of those powers could help M'gann right now. Nothing he could do could help save her. He was powerless and that thought in itself was infuriating.
No one had said anything as they had arrived back at their headquarters. It was as if breaking the silence could ruin all of M'gann's chances to get better. Securely, Connor had carried M'gann off the ship and past the ever-calculating eyes of Batman and into the infirmary. With a gentleness that he didn't know he was capable of, Connor placed her down on the bed and suddenly wished she would just open her eyes and shout something about how it was a joke.
Her lying there—not moving, barely breathing—was a joke. At least, that was what he wanted her to say. How could be so damn powerless? Why did he have all these powers if he could not use them to save the one person who saw him for what he was—a teenager—and not as others saw him? If she didn't wake up . . .
It was a dangerous thought that he didn't want to entertain. Too dangerous and too painful and instantly Connor banished the thought. This whole being useless thing was pushing his limits. His grip on his anger was quickly disappearing and he wasn't sure how long he could just sit and wait.
He had never thought that he would be limited. He had so many powers that he could either help save the world or he could damn it, but when it came to this one problem, he was useless. Why was he useless? Why did he have to be limited as well? It just didn't make sense!
"J'onn," Batman quietly greeted. Connor held his breath—well, to be honest, he didn't need to breathe, but it was something that M'gann had taught him—and waited to hear the diagnosis of his teammate. The Manhunter looked exhausted with beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead. "What is your diagnosis?"
That was Batman—always professional, never willing to let his emotions flare out of his control. His protégée was emulating him pretty well. Robin hadn't said anything after he had contacted Batman and had refused to show any hint of emotion. Connor noticed that—out of all of them—Kid Flash was the only one showing his emotions clearly. Fear was in the speedster's eyes and Connor knew that fear was justified.
After all, M'gann might never wake up.
"I made contact in her mind," The Martian began and Connor released the breath he had been holding. "But her battle has mentally exhausted her. I was able to repair the damage in her mind, but she'll only wake up when she feels she's safe from being attacked again."
The answer gave Connor no satisfaction. M'gann didn't think she was safe? Didn't she know that he would protect her? He would never let her end up in this situation again! Anger coursed through him and he tried to control it.
"So, what happens now?" Kid Flash asked, worry lacing his tone.
"We wait." Batman replied and to Connor's surprise, he doesn't leave his spot outside M'gann's infirmary room. For the first time, Connor realized that the Batman did care about this team of ex-sidekicks and other odd teenagers.
"Can I see her?" Connor's voice was quiet and it surprised him. He had never known that he could summon something other than anger and disapproval in his tone. Batman glanced at J'onn who simply nodded. Needing no other encouragement, Connor walked into the infirmary.
"M'gann," He mumbled as he took his place in the chair by her bed. He has never seen her this still before and for a moment. It's almost as if she was dead. He was unsure what to do now—should he sit or stand? "Wake up."
She doesn't stir.
"Dammit," He cursed and he felt stupid. Of course she wouldn't wake up just because he asked her to. Things weren't that simple! Running a hand through his hair in sheer embarrassment, he decided to sit. The room is silent except for the multitude of machines hooked up to M'gann. There were ones to monitor her heart rate, her breathing, and her brainwave activity. Frankly, they were cutting into thinking deeply time. "Damn machines." He anxiously glanced at M'gann about to apologize, but suddenly realized that she was still unconscious.
It's almost as if she's that princess from that movie she made him watch three weeks ago. What was it called? The one with the princess who was cursed from birth to prick her finger on some old fashioned thing called a spinning wheel—Sleeping Beauty. He hadn't wanted to watch it, but the look on her face as she had begged and pouted was too hard to resist. So, he had sat and watched it and she had, understandably, enjoyed it much more than him. And yet . . . If he were to kiss her now—like in that movie—would she wake up?
He turned his head away from her in embarrassment. M'gann had said so herself—Sleeping Beauty was a fairy tale, whatever that meant. A kiss probably wouldn't wake her up because she wasn't cursed. But there had to be something he could do for her.
"M'gann." He tried again, hoping for some response.
"M'gann, wake up."
She doesn't give any sort of reaction. He was starting to lose hope. Her uncle had said she hadn't felt safe here so all he had to do to wake her up was make her feel safe, right? Now, what would make someone feel safe? He racked his mind for an image or some miraculous answer to appear when he spotted her hand hanging off the railing of the bed. Robin had explained to Connor once—after a rescue mission—why people recently saved ran into each other arms.
"They need to be held," The young boy had explained. "Contact, like a hug, makes people feel safe. It lets them know that someone is there for them."
Taking a deep breath in, Connor grabbed her hand and held it within his own. He had held it earlier in battle, but he hadn't realized how smooth her skin was. It felt so soft and in his calloused hand, it made him feel better about everything. M'gann had always had that way about her—one smile could send Connor into this tailspin of unknown emotions. Squeezing her hand, he knelt down close to her face.
"M'gann," His tone is quiet again and comforting. "Please wake up. Please, for me." He waited for a response after saying something so heartfelt—like he had seen in those cheesy movies that Artemis had watched—but M'gann remained in her dreamland. Dejected, Superboy let go of her hand and stood up, prepared to go outside and wait with the others.
"Connor," A soft voice called. "I heard you the first time." He turned around to see M'gann fully awake with a small, mischievous smile on her face and Connor can't help but break out in a grin. He had saved her—without any of his powers. He had proved that he could work around his limits and most importantly—
He had gotten her back again.
Author's Note: Aw, I really loved this two-shot and I hope you did too! Please review!