Title: Hacked Line

Author(s): Naimeria and Toadflame

Warnings: None

Summary: Submission for the ULTIMATE collab challenge on the YJFC board. A misunderstanding leads to a dramatic betrayal. Superboy decides the team is only hurting him, and Robin tries to convince him this is not the case.

Author's Notes: This is a collab between myself and Toadflame for the ULTIMATE Collab Challenge, located in the Young Justice Fanfiction Challenges (YJFC) forum! The prompt was thus: "It's too late. You had your chance. And I'm just getting started." We had loads of fun doing it, even though we had a bit of a slow start. Love ya, Toady!

Standard Disclaimer~

oOo

Robin poked and prodded at his holographic keyboard, expertly punching in the right buttons to execute the exact commands needed for a basic hack. Well, not so basic - hacking into the JLA system was anything but basic. But the last time he had seen them, Dick had noticed they'd seemed pretty intent of discussing something important and out of reach of ears under the age of twenty. So, naturally, Dick wanted to know exactly what was being discussed.

The rest of the team being gone was somewhat of a relief, he mused. While he loved their company, even their giant mountain base tended to get a wee crowded. What with M'Gann's cooking and community activities, Wally's incessant talking and moving, and Artemis' following Wally around and complaining about everything in general, the mountain seemed pretty full. Kaldur rarely raised such a feeling, as he was neither loud nor overly kinetic. And Suberboy usually watched TV or whatever everyone else was doing.

In short, relaxing in the silence of the normally bustling mountain was pretty refreshing.

A few more taps and he saw an open line. Grinning, Dick adjusted the frequency a tad, then sat back and waited for it to connect. He wondered how long it would take Bruce to spot his fingerprints in their system. Batman had built the security system, after all; Dick was surprised it hadn't spotted him from the get go. He had spent years complimenting, then contrasting, then finally opposing Batman's security systems and other such technological advances in his living space. Nothing could go wrong, right?

A camera in the top right corner of their conference room finally connected, and Dick allowed himself a cogradulatory fist pump. Batman, Superman, Green Arrow, and Zatarra were all there, looking interestingly bothered about whatever it was they were discussing. Dick had tried to hack the sound systems before, but the last time his algorithm had been compromised and he'd been found out in around four seconds by his foster father. Shockingly enough, Batman had not been pleased. But he'd since then created another code, and hopefully it'd work. A good a time as any to try, he mused.

After a bundle of seconds, the speakers from his wrist crackled to life and he heard Superman speaking, as if he were standing five feet away.

"...is dangerous!"

Dick sat up immediately, eyes narrowing. Something Big was going on, and he wanted to know what.

"Superman, really. There's no need to talk about him like he's not human!" It sounded like Green Arrow.

"He's not human! He's-!"

"His mortality, or lack thereof, is not our current issue. Our issue is how we will take him out if he goes rogue." That was his mentor. Dick swore the man had a plan for anything and everything that could go wrong, even if they all happened at the exact same time. Though, how likely was it that Superman suddenly became immune to Kryptonite at the expense of his sanity and memories of all but Green Arrow just when said hero had his brain taken over by brain-stealing aliens who were just happened to be ordered to take out Black Canary, whose mutation had turned into her screech being directed whenever she talked? 99.999% impossible.

"If? More like when, don't you think?"

"Superman, you are not helping matters."

"Fine, fine. Don't suppose Kryptonite would work, would it?"

A slight rustle from the doorway had Dick's attention immediately, not letting him hear the next line. He swung the chair around to see Connor standing in the doorway, an ugly look across the Kryptonian features.

"Superboy!" Dick said, trying to appease the clone. "I don't think-"

But Connor didn't look at him; his superior eyesight, which had manifested itself only a few weeks ago, had obviously already taken in the situation, if his abrupt turn and purposeful stride were anything to go by.

"Superboy!" Dick ran to the door, barely managing to catch sight of the clone as he swept around a corner. "Come back!"

Cape flicking behind him as he jumped around the corner, Dick immediately muted the link to the hacked mic. He knew they couldn't have been talking about Connor, they wouldn't do that. His relationship with Clark had just gotten better recently, and their team had evolved so well over the past year. He refused to let what seemed like a simple misunderstanding mess all of that up. He wouldn't forgive himself for it; if he hadn't been eavesdropping, this wouldn't have happened.

Boots squeaking against the floor he ran, temporarily losing sight of Superboy's form. Though he had lived here for over a year, some of the twists and turns of the halls felt foreign to him. Dick heard Connor's heavy footfalls, wondering why he hadn't flown through the roof yet. At least he still had some control of himself. He no longer exploded in thoughtless fits of rage.
Past the kitchens, into the training hall. "CONNOR!" Dick yelled, and he saw the boy's black shoulders freeze in the doorway, tall and bulky form shaking with rage.

Dick stood his ground. "Connor, listen to me."

"So you can tell me what? That you 'care about me?' Just so someone can hurt me again?" Connor looked as close to crying as he ever had. "I don't think so!"

With that, he passed a hand over the panel displaying the Zeta tube locations and disappeared.

"Dammit, Connor!" Dick shouted to the empty room.

Rushing to the control panel, Dick hooked in his wrist computer. "Come on," he muttered, typing frantically. "Tell me where he went!" The location popped up after a second: Metropolis.

"Metropolis, of course. Why can't he go somewhere small? Like, say, Smallville?"

He darted through the Zeta tube once he had the location programmed.

oOo

The phone booth Dick nearly tumbled out of was set in an almost dingy alleyway. It was very clean compared to Gotham's, at least. The only downside was that it was near the street, making discretion an unlikely task. But no one was around, strangely; they all seemed to be hiding.

Dick saw why a moment later.

Superboy, in all his tall and bulky glory, had regressed to what he had been over a year ago - a very angry and seemingly mindless clone. If Dick was brave enough to use the term, he'd say it was as if Connor was throwing a tantrum. But this wasn't Connor, not really, and this was also much more dangerous than a mere tantrum. Brinks crumpled and telephone lines sparked, a dog was barking in the distance, and a broken hydrant was spraying water sky high. Robin could hear a woman shouting to her son, and there were deep cracks in the middle of the road.

And in the middle of it all was a shouting teenage boy, looking livid and hurt.

"Superboy!" Robin shouted, grateful he'd been in costume at the start of all of this. He darted out of the alleyway and onto the sidewalk lining the street. Superboy had grabbed a parking meter and was slamming it into the side of a bakery. He contemplated trying to mentally contact M'gann, but he immediately shot down the idea. Bringing in the rest of the team might do more harm than good.

After calling his name again and receiving no acknowledgement, Robin scowled then pulled out a birdarang. Fine then.

He threw it at the raging mass of teenager, and it caught him in the shoulder. Superboy dropped the meter and grabbed his shoulder instead, the shirt cut but no visible damage to his skin. Robin hadn't meant to hurt him; he'd only wanted to get his attention, and it seemed as though it had worked.

He turned towards Robin quickly, danger sparking in his blue eyes. "WHAT?" he yelled. "Come to gloat some more?"

"Superboy, snap out of it!" Robin said, jumping over one of the asphalt cracks. "They weren't talking about you!"

"How do you know? You heard just as much as I did!" Superboy picked the meter back up and hurled it at the younger teen.

He ducked. It was the only thing he could do, but Robin still felt a brief moment of guilt when it hit the window of the store behind him. "I know because they wouldn't do that to you! Not anymore!"

Superboy seemed to hesitate, just slightly, just enough for Robin to press on. "I don't know who they were talking about, but I know it wasn't you because-" He snapped his mouth shut. He'd almost spilled the beans about how they already had a worst-case plan for him.

"Do finish that sentence, please, Robin," a smooth voice interrupted. "I'm sure it will be very helpful for you, wouldn't you think?" Robin didn't need to turn around to know the owner of that voice. His fists clenched at his sides.

"Luthor," Robin growled. "What are you doing here?"

"Quite frankly, it's not really any of your business, is it, Boy Wonder?" Luthor said in his cool voice as he stepped forward into the fray. Superboy glared at him, but surprisingly enough, didn't move against him. Robin stood and watched, confused and wary. Something here wasn't right.

Luthor's hands were clasped behind his back, and he looked relaxed and even a bit smug as he walked closer to Superboy. "No, I'm here because of you, right Superboy?" He said. "Because your team isn't really who they say they are. Or, rather, they haven't been entirely honest with you, have they?"

"Excuse me?" Robin said, stepping forward. "Who are you to-"

"Telling you that you're part of a team. That you're one of them. I've shown you what they do, Superboy. They lied, didn't they? They go off by themselves and solve their own crimes, or they leave you behind and solve them just the five of them."

"That's not-"

"How about all those time you've been gone and they have fun without you? Doesn't that make you angry, Superboy?"

Robin knew the exact moment that Superboy had been lost. The clone's blue eyes widened, then narrowed menacingly. He drew in an audibly ragged breath before picking up a large chunk of asphalt. Robin dodged, and felt his cape snap around as it was struck. He flipped backwards as another parking meter flew his way. then landed in a crouch. He opened his mouth to shout to the clone, his friend, but the look on the other boy's face told Robin that he wouldn't hear a word of it.

Superboy lunged with a snarl, fist in the air and aimed for Robin's head. Robin ducked then held up his forearm, blocking the other punch. His arm shook with the impact, but it was better than feeling that punch full-force hit hiss skull. He jumped backwards again, using his smaller size to his advantage. He was used to being the smaller in any fight, and it was easy to dodge Superboy's blind punches. The unfortunate aspect of this strategy? He was seriously pissing off his opponent.

Superboy let out another wordless snarl, rushing towards Robin in one long jump. Robin jumped up, his previous scouting coming in handy as he remembered there was a sign for an insurance company above his head. He grabbed the pole the sign was attached to and spun, perching himself on it. Now that he was in the air, he had a chance to speak.

"Superboy! Listen to me, please! You barely know this man - how can you trust him more than us, your team?"

"You talk as if you're my friends, but you've only kept things from me! You, the League, Superman - you fear me for what I am!" Superboy looked down at the ground, fists clenched at his sides. Robin gripped the pole beneath his feet tighter.

"We don't fear you! We're your friends!"

Superboy looked up and glared, blue eyes shining with hurt and rage. "I don't have any friends."

Robin's brows drew together beneath his mask. There was no reaching him.

Superboy seemed to have taken Robin's forlorn silence as an agreement, because he gave another shout, bent down, and pulled another chunk of asphalt from the street. He threw it, and Robin jumped up immediately, prepared to land on the windowsill above his head. But as Robin watched the rock sail towards him, his stomach breached his throat. His trajerctory had been predicted.

He tried to maneuver himself in the air, but he wasn't quick boulder struck his shoulder hard. Robin fell, winded and feeling like he'd been run over by a bus.

The clip of boots barely managed to help him stay conscious, especially as one of the boots stepped on his solar plexus.

"Super...boy..." he wheezed. "Don't-"

"It's too late. You had your chance. And I'm just getting started." The boot pressed harder onto his ribcage, and the last thing Robin saw was Superboy's face glaring down at him, a mixture of anger and grief darkening his features.