When you are Real, you don't mind being hurt (underage, non-con)
Also posted at: http://community.livejournal.com/yj_anon_meme/689.html?thread=1428401#t1428401
Summary: Dr. Desmond never considered Superboy a real person and molested him.
Pairings: None
Word Count: 1700
Everything’s different outside of Cadmus.
In Cadmus, his sleeping tutelage under the G-nomes had been his life. Dreaming was his reality. It was how he learned, how he experienced the world.
Being awake was the strange thing, those few hours every few days or weeks, when his body was strange and new, nothing like he remembered from previous awakenings, sluggish and clumsy and confusing. His dreams were consistent and orderly. Everything made sense.
Now, now, waking is how he learns. His body moves, fighting, running, speaking, and it stops being this clumsy, changing thing. Every step in this waking life is surer. Every thought is clearer, away from the G-nomes.
He sees the moon for the first time, and it’s a level of real beyond his imagining, like his whole world had been made of the shadows and echos of things, and he was finally seeing their true forms.
And he sees Superman, descending like a god, like the most perfect, ideal, real thing he could ever have imagined. And so he goes to him, to be real too, but all too soon it’s apparent from Superman’s eyes and Batman’s words that Superboy is not ideal or perfect or real.
He’s a clone of a real thing and, for one traitorous moment, he wants to go back to his pod, back to the shadows and echos, where poor representations of truer objects belong.
Much later that night, when he goes to sleep, he wonders if it will feel like coming home, to dream again. But for the first time he’s not sleeping his pod, and his dreams are strange.
....
The pod opens and Superboy falls to his knees. There’s a small weight on his shoulder, and a large one in his mind, and it tells him to stand. Superboy’s legs shake, but he stands.
Before him, Desmond is taller, much, much taller than Superboy thinks he should be, than Superboy remembers of the man he threw like a piece of cardboard.
But Superboy hasn’t thrown him, not yet. This man circles him, makes notes on a piece of paper, and snaps instructions to someone or someones. Superboy’s legs are still shaking, and the lights are so bright on his eyes, and everything is too loud. The man - Desmond, Superboy remembers - is too loud.
Then the man, Desmond, Desmond, is quiet and the others are gone. Desmond is farther away now, seated, in a . . . in a chair - ‘I know the names of things.’ Desmond wants him to come closer. Superboy can’t remember having walked before, but he thinks the G-nome helps him, because he doesn’t fall.
When he gets to the man, there’s even more. The man touches him. His face, his hair, his chest. Superboy squirms when the man runs his hands down his sides.
It feels - he doesn’t want hands there - it feels - it’s too much.
“Relax.” There’s a push in his mind, and he goes boneless under the hands. His legs stop shaking. He’s pulled up onto the man’s legs and his hands are lower now. He wants this to stop. But he doesn’t know how to ask.
“None of that, now. You’re not a person. Not a real boy. You belong to this lab. You belong to me. And I will use you as I see fit.
Superboy wakes up and wonders who he belongs to now. He’s free from Cadmus and Desmond.
Does he belong to the boys who took him out, or to the Justice League that they answer to? Superman made it very clear. Superboy doesn’t belong to him.
That day they tell him how he will be used: covert missions under Batman.
He eats and moves and talks and wonders about the world outside of the pod, and outside of his strange new dreams.
He wonders if being real is a process, if it’s something he can achieve by living, awake and alive with real people. If he can become strong enough and good enough to be real, like Superman.
The alien girl probes his mind, and he HATES it, it confuses him. How can he be real if he’s not under his own control, how can he be real if he’s not self contained, independent in his own body and mind, like Superman?
The boys are very real. They are over-whelmingly real. He doesn’t understand half of what they’re saying, but it’s clear from Kaldur’s gentle comment that they understand him very well. It makes sense. Two dimensional shapes must seem very simple to three-dimensional ones.
Kaldur’ahm. M’gann. Wally. Even Robin has a real name, another layer, precious because it’s his to give or not give. Superboy only has himself, translucent before them.
They fight the robot, and he’s not strong enough, and it’s still too much. But if it is possible for him to become real, by becoming better, nothing will stop him from trying.
M’gann destroys the robot inside the robot, and Superboy does not understand. It’s not alive, sure. Not organic, he get’s that. But isn’t Red Tornado not organic, not alive? Wouldn’t it be bad if Red Tornado was destroyed? Or is their guardian not real too?
Superboy wonders what the distinction is. He figures Superman would have understood the difference, like M’gann, Kaldur, Wally, and Robin clearly had.
Before he goes to sleep, Superboy wonders if it would be bad if he was destroyed.
...
“You’re not a real boy.”
The man, Desmond, isn’t as tall anymore. Superboy’s head is higher than the man’s waist. Which makes this position very, very uncomfortable.
But everything is uncomfortable outside the pod.
Superboy hates his weak, graceless body. He hates his clumsy hands on the man’s hips. He hates his shaking legs, bent to get his head and torso lower. He hates his mouth around the swollen flesh, and his tongue that can taste its foul, too strong taste, and his teeth that are apparently in the way and need to be covered by his lips how was he supposed to know, the G-nomes never taught him this. He hates his neck, tired from bobbing, and his jaw that is getting sore. But most of all he hates his nose and his eyes because they won’t stop leaking, and it’s all - it’s very uncomfortable.
He wants to go back to his pod.
Superboy doesn’t like his dreams anymore. They don’t have any of the comfort and safety he remembers of his dreams in the pod with the G-nomes.
But the waking world is getting better. It almost feels like those first few hours again after Kaldur, Robin, and Wally freed him. On the mission, every step seems more right then the last. Every day seems less confusing.
He searches on the computer for realness, and there seems to be precedent. Though, it was pretty confusing. He still doesn’t quite understand what “velveteen” is or how it makes a manufactured rabbit sentient, but Superboy’s been someone’s toy before.
He remembers what it feels like when “love” hurts, even if he doesn’t like thinking about that. He hopes that’s not how he has to become real. He really doesn’t know who to ask to “love” him out here, and - and it never really felt good.
Which is probably more of an indication how not real he still is. If his teammates and the online and television sources are correct, what he was doing with Desmond during his few hours weekly outside of the pod should have felt very, very good.
Superboy’s confused, but optimistic that there may be other ways to become real.
But after his failure on the bridge, he could have destabilized it, he could have killed people, real people, whatever that means Superboy isn’t as optimistic anymore. If his strength and speed isn’t good enough, he doesn’t know what else he can give.
Black Canary doesn’t help.
He understands, conceptually, why she dresses that way. It’s a good distraction. People are attracted to her, like Wally, and they underestimate her and make mistakes. He looks at her and feels nothing.
He’s a freak and defective, somehow - sexually, fine - but he’s not distracted, and all his power still isn’t good enough.
Simultaneously, he’s hit with how wrong he is and how the path he’s walking won’t help. He’s helpless and lost again, and Superman doesn’t want him. He’s trying so hard. Why doesn’t he want him?
Again, again, the mission helps. And Superboy doesn’t know how he can ever be good enough for his friends - he’s pretty sure they’re all friends. He understands, a little better. Canary just wants to help. Maybe her way will work. He can keep trying.
....
Everything hurts.
Superboy thought he felt disoriented before, but this time is thousands of times worse. He can’t hold his body upright anymore.
The G-nome on his shoulder is gone. And he can’t stop crying. He knows the name of it now, it’s called crying. But nothing’s ever hurt like this before. He wonders if he’s going to die.
Desmond tried last time, to do this, but he couldn’t get it in. The ring of muscle wouldn’t budge, no matter how much the G-nome forced him to relax. Desmond got angry. Superboy was just happy to go back to his pod.
This time is the worst thing he has ever known.
This time Desmond has a little green rock on a necklace that he puts over Superboy’s neck.
Desmond says he is doing this because Superboy is not a real boy. Superboy really, really wants to be a real boy. More than anything, he wants to be real.
This time the ring of muscle budges, and it hurts, it hurts, it hurts inside him, nothing’s hurt inside him ever before.
But something changes, the dream shifts until Superboy watches himself bent over the computer interface, biting his lip and staring at his pod as the man rocks behind him. He just wants his pod or to be real or maybe both.
Superboy remembers too, that other things have hurt him inside now. He remembers a horrified look, and awkward, meaningless excuses, and watching his dream, his chance, his whole fucking reason for existing, fly away from him again and again.
He’s pretty sure the man behind him isn’t Desmond anymore.
Superboy wonders if this is a sign. If this is what he needs to do to become real.
Summary: Dr. Desmond never considered Superboy a real person and molested him.
Pairings: None
Word Count: 1700
Everything’s different outside of Cadmus.
In Cadmus, his sleeping tutelage under the G-nomes had been his life. Dreaming was his reality. It was how he learned, how he experienced the world.
Being awake was the strange thing, those few hours every few days or weeks, when his body was strange and new, nothing like he remembered from previous awakenings, sluggish and clumsy and confusing. His dreams were consistent and orderly. Everything made sense.
Now, now, waking is how he learns. His body moves, fighting, running, speaking, and it stops being this clumsy, changing thing. Every step in this waking life is surer. Every thought is clearer, away from the G-nomes.
He sees the moon for the first time, and it’s a level of real beyond his imagining, like his whole world had been made of the shadows and echos of things, and he was finally seeing their true forms.
And he sees Superman, descending like a god, like the most perfect, ideal, real thing he could ever have imagined. And so he goes to him, to be real too, but all too soon it’s apparent from Superman’s eyes and Batman’s words that Superboy is not ideal or perfect or real.
He’s a clone of a real thing and, for one traitorous moment, he wants to go back to his pod, back to the shadows and echos, where poor representations of truer objects belong.
Much later that night, when he goes to sleep, he wonders if it will feel like coming home, to dream again. But for the first time he’s not sleeping his pod, and his dreams are strange.
....
The pod opens and Superboy falls to his knees. There’s a small weight on his shoulder, and a large one in his mind, and it tells him to stand. Superboy’s legs shake, but he stands.
Before him, Desmond is taller, much, much taller than Superboy thinks he should be, than Superboy remembers of the man he threw like a piece of cardboard.
But Superboy hasn’t thrown him, not yet. This man circles him, makes notes on a piece of paper, and snaps instructions to someone or someones. Superboy’s legs are still shaking, and the lights are so bright on his eyes, and everything is too loud. The man - Desmond, Superboy remembers - is too loud.
Then the man, Desmond, Desmond, is quiet and the others are gone. Desmond is farther away now, seated, in a . . . in a chair - ‘I know the names of things.’ Desmond wants him to come closer. Superboy can’t remember having walked before, but he thinks the G-nome helps him, because he doesn’t fall.
When he gets to the man, there’s even more. The man touches him. His face, his hair, his chest. Superboy squirms when the man runs his hands down his sides.
It feels - he doesn’t want hands there - it feels - it’s too much.
“Relax.” There’s a push in his mind, and he goes boneless under the hands. His legs stop shaking. He’s pulled up onto the man’s legs and his hands are lower now. He wants this to stop. But he doesn’t know how to ask.
“None of that, now. You’re not a person. Not a real boy. You belong to this lab. You belong to me. And I will use you as I see fit.
Superboy wakes up and wonders who he belongs to now. He’s free from Cadmus and Desmond.
Does he belong to the boys who took him out, or to the Justice League that they answer to? Superman made it very clear. Superboy doesn’t belong to him.
That day they tell him how he will be used: covert missions under Batman.
He eats and moves and talks and wonders about the world outside of the pod, and outside of his strange new dreams.
He wonders if being real is a process, if it’s something he can achieve by living, awake and alive with real people. If he can become strong enough and good enough to be real, like Superman.
The alien girl probes his mind, and he HATES it, it confuses him. How can he be real if he’s not under his own control, how can he be real if he’s not self contained, independent in his own body and mind, like Superman?
The boys are very real. They are over-whelmingly real. He doesn’t understand half of what they’re saying, but it’s clear from Kaldur’s gentle comment that they understand him very well. It makes sense. Two dimensional shapes must seem very simple to three-dimensional ones.
Kaldur’ahm. M’gann. Wally. Even Robin has a real name, another layer, precious because it’s his to give or not give. Superboy only has himself, translucent before them.
They fight the robot, and he’s not strong enough, and it’s still too much. But if it is possible for him to become real, by becoming better, nothing will stop him from trying.
M’gann destroys the robot inside the robot, and Superboy does not understand. It’s not alive, sure. Not organic, he get’s that. But isn’t Red Tornado not organic, not alive? Wouldn’t it be bad if Red Tornado was destroyed? Or is their guardian not real too?
Superboy wonders what the distinction is. He figures Superman would have understood the difference, like M’gann, Kaldur, Wally, and Robin clearly had.
Before he goes to sleep, Superboy wonders if it would be bad if he was destroyed.
...
“You’re not a real boy.”
The man, Desmond, isn’t as tall anymore. Superboy’s head is higher than the man’s waist. Which makes this position very, very uncomfortable.
But everything is uncomfortable outside the pod.
Superboy hates his weak, graceless body. He hates his clumsy hands on the man’s hips. He hates his shaking legs, bent to get his head and torso lower. He hates his mouth around the swollen flesh, and his tongue that can taste its foul, too strong taste, and his teeth that are apparently in the way and need to be covered by his lips how was he supposed to know, the G-nomes never taught him this. He hates his neck, tired from bobbing, and his jaw that is getting sore. But most of all he hates his nose and his eyes because they won’t stop leaking, and it’s all - it’s very uncomfortable.
He wants to go back to his pod.
Superboy doesn’t like his dreams anymore. They don’t have any of the comfort and safety he remembers of his dreams in the pod with the G-nomes.
But the waking world is getting better. It almost feels like those first few hours again after Kaldur, Robin, and Wally freed him. On the mission, every step seems more right then the last. Every day seems less confusing.
He searches on the computer for realness, and there seems to be precedent. Though, it was pretty confusing. He still doesn’t quite understand what “velveteen” is or how it makes a manufactured rabbit sentient, but Superboy’s been someone’s toy before.
He remembers what it feels like when “love” hurts, even if he doesn’t like thinking about that. He hopes that’s not how he has to become real. He really doesn’t know who to ask to “love” him out here, and - and it never really felt good.
Which is probably more of an indication how not real he still is. If his teammates and the online and television sources are correct, what he was doing with Desmond during his few hours weekly outside of the pod should have felt very, very good.
Superboy’s confused, but optimistic that there may be other ways to become real.
But after his failure on the bridge, he could have destabilized it, he could have killed people, real people, whatever that means Superboy isn’t as optimistic anymore. If his strength and speed isn’t good enough, he doesn’t know what else he can give.
Black Canary doesn’t help.
He understands, conceptually, why she dresses that way. It’s a good distraction. People are attracted to her, like Wally, and they underestimate her and make mistakes. He looks at her and feels nothing.
He’s a freak and defective, somehow - sexually, fine - but he’s not distracted, and all his power still isn’t good enough.
Simultaneously, he’s hit with how wrong he is and how the path he’s walking won’t help. He’s helpless and lost again, and Superman doesn’t want him. He’s trying so hard. Why doesn’t he want him?
Again, again, the mission helps. And Superboy doesn’t know how he can ever be good enough for his friends - he’s pretty sure they’re all friends. He understands, a little better. Canary just wants to help. Maybe her way will work. He can keep trying.
....
Everything hurts.
Superboy thought he felt disoriented before, but this time is thousands of times worse. He can’t hold his body upright anymore.
The G-nome on his shoulder is gone. And he can’t stop crying. He knows the name of it now, it’s called crying. But nothing’s ever hurt like this before. He wonders if he’s going to die.
Desmond tried last time, to do this, but he couldn’t get it in. The ring of muscle wouldn’t budge, no matter how much the G-nome forced him to relax. Desmond got angry. Superboy was just happy to go back to his pod.
This time is the worst thing he has ever known.
This time Desmond has a little green rock on a necklace that he puts over Superboy’s neck.
Desmond says he is doing this because Superboy is not a real boy. Superboy really, really wants to be a real boy. More than anything, he wants to be real.
This time the ring of muscle budges, and it hurts, it hurts, it hurts inside him, nothing’s hurt inside him ever before.
But something changes, the dream shifts until Superboy watches himself bent over the computer interface, biting his lip and staring at his pod as the man rocks behind him. He just wants his pod or to be real or maybe both.
Superboy remembers too, that other things have hurt him inside now. He remembers a horrified look, and awkward, meaningless excuses, and watching his dream, his chance, his whole fucking reason for existing, fly away from him again and again.
He’s pretty sure the man behind him isn’t Desmond anymore.
Superboy wonders if this is a sign. If this is what he needs to do to become real.