More Young Justice Trash

Bulletproof

-Conner whump & hurt/comfort with Robin-

Bulletproof does not mean the bullets never hit you.

"Hold still." A pair of pliers dug into his back, prying at the bullet heads that stuck out of his flesh like studs. There was no gentle 'does it hurt?' or 'almost done, sonny' like the others got during treatment, just 'hold still'. The nurses didn't like being alone with him; he didn't like being there either. "Almost done with this one." the first nurse announced.

"Good, I'll call someone in to go over the closing report." The second replied from across the med bay.

The lead twisted painfully, and something hot began trickling down Conner's spine. "Cotton." The first nurse ordered, and after a second or two they pressed something soft against his skin.

"I didn't realize he bled."

Conner jerked his head over his shoulder to look.

"Stay still." The nurse ordered. "He is a living being, they do tend to bleed."

"But isn't superman supposed to be, like, unbreakable?"

Conner's muscles contracted violently, digging the remaining bullets deeper into his flesh. He bit his tongue as the words soaked into his bones.

There was a sharp suction noise as another bullet popped out, clinking onto the little metal tray next to the gurney. "I think that's all we can do for now. the rest should come out on their own." The nurse announced, emptying the bullets into a biohazard bag. "You can leave now."

Conner moved slowly and deliberately, anger seething through his muscles as he stiffly dressed himself in his hole peppered T-shirt. Superman was unbreakable, he was not. At every turn his body failed him, It was weak, it was vulnerable; he couldn't donate blood or organs, meaning it was destined to waste away without helping him or anyone else. 

The mountain was quiet, almost everyone had gone home and according to the whiteboard on the fridge M'gann had taken wolf out on a walk. Conner didn't go out to the atrium to check who was still there, he crept back to his chambers in hollow silence.

Conner stood in his tight closet-bedroom, letting the claustrophilic comfort wash over him. He never slept well in beds, they were unfamiliar and exposed, his pod was safe. He let his fingers run along the holes in his shirt. He needed a new one already.

He rocked on the balls of his feet, fists up covering his eyes as the overwhelming anger rendered his body weak and tired. His nails dug into his palms, threatening to draw blood as his wrists became exhausted and limp. He tried to breath like people always told him to, but each breath came out deep and fast, blurring his mind and spinning the room. He collapsed against the wall, bracing himself.

He slumped to the floor and began rocking himself, the movement soothing him somewhat. 

Soft footfalls came from the hallway outside, the rabbit-like heartbeats and quiet short breaths telling him that it was likely Robin.

"Supes?" The boy asked gently, he knew Conner could hear him. "Con? You in there?" He didn't feel like answering. Robin knocked on the door. Conner raised a stiff fist and knocked back. "Can I come in?"

Conner nodded, though Robin couldn't see it. He stood shakily and braced himself, opening the door. "What?"

The thirteen-year-old beamed up at him with a patient, placating smile. "Hey Supes, what's up."

"What do you want?" He ordered, a scowl knitting his brows together.

"I just wanted to say thanks for taking those bullets for us..."

"It's fine."

Without warning, Robin shot forwards, squeezing superboy in his short wiry arms. He pulled back quickly. "Sorry. I should have asked, I--" Conner encased his friend, pulling him so tight against his chest that Robin's feet dangled off the floor. "Whoa, buddy, you okay? I thought you didn't like being touched?" Conner didn't reply, squeezing him tighter and tighter as if trying to force his friend into his ribcage. Robin coughed, "Looser please."

Conner dropped him back to the floor in repulsion. He didn't want to hurt Robin. He gripped his biceps, watching as the smaller boy climbed back to his feet. "I hurt you?"

Robin shook his head. "Nope," he winced, "I'm fine."

Conner looked down at him, he believed Robin, but he still felt a burning frustration at himself for putting his friend at risk. Canary was always telling him to be careful with how he touched and handled people outside of combat. Robin was strong though, he was the best on the team, so he wasn't hurt.

"It hurt."

"hmm?" Robin, who'd been observing his torn shirt, glanced up. "What hurt buddy?"

"Getting shot." He admitted, shame crawling up his intestines. 

"I'm not surprised." Robin replied. "It really hurts to be shot."

"But." He thought over his words. "But I'm super. I'm supposed to be..." He frowned. "...super."

"You are. I think  it's pretty super to take fifteen slugs to the back and walk away from it."

"Slugs?"

"Bullets." He clarified. "I mean, that's impressive."

"It made me bleed." Conner admitted, the skin under his eyes growing hot and his nasal passage irritated. "I bled in front of the nurses."

Robin's face dropped. "Oh,  Conner. I'm sorry."

"What do you have to be sorry for?" He demanded, a little harsher than expected.

"I'm just expressing condolences. I mean, That sucks. Did you bleed much?"

"Doesn't matter." He said, the subject poisoned to him.

The two stood there a few minutes. "Hey Supes, would you mind if I borrow your shirt?"

"Why?" Conner gripped the fabric defensively. 

"I think I know someone who can fix it, so you don't have to throw it out." 

Conner's eyes widened. "You can fix them?"

"Well, I don't know if I can, but someone in my household can."

"I'm..." Conner shook his head. "I don't want to take it off."

"I know, you like the shirt." Robin conceded. "But if you let us help, the shirt can look better and last longer."

Coner thought this over carefully. "O... Okay." He slid the shirt over his head, feeling exposed and nameless without it. Shakily, he passed the shirt over. "I trust you."

"Thank you." Robin said gently. He caught sight of Conner's back and winced. "You've still got a couple in there, buddy."

"I know." He replied. "They'll come out on their own."

Robin gave him a weak smile. "I'll be back with your shirt first thing in the morning, if they're still in, I'll help you get them out."

Conner nodded. "I'd like that."