Disclaimer: I do not own either Young Justice or its related characters. Such are the property of DC Comics, Warner Bros. Entertainment and Cartoon Network. I'm just borrowing them for some non-profit entertainment.

(A/N: This fic was inspired by biomassdiver's story "Cold", which can be found in the Superman category of the Comics division. I recommend giving it a look see. Here's a convenient link: http:/ www. fanfiction. net/s/ 7781010/1/ …)

Invulnerable:

Conner smothered the grease-fire with his hand just as Wally materialized by his side, a fire extinguisher in hand. The speedster groaned slightly at the fact that he didn't get to be M'gann's hero but reluctantly gave the kryptonian-genomorph his due props. Fire was deadly to martians and it was pretty dangerous to humans too (when handled wrong), but to Conner it was just… warm.

He nodded to the speedster and gave the appropriate thanks for his attempt to help (superfluous though it was), and exited the kitchen to check on his girlfriend.

It wasn't just fire that didn't phase him. Extreme colds were equally inconsequential to the kryptonian-genomorph.

There had been a mission where he, Robin and Artemis had been locked in a 'death trap' of sorts that had been intended to freeze them to death. The walls were made of something that was difficult for the Superboy to break through and the door's lock mechanism could only be accessed from the outside. While Conner beat at the door from the inside and Wally, M'gann and Kaldur tried to jimmy it from the outside, Robin and Artemis began to enter the first few stages of hypothermia.

Conner watched his teammates freezing and realized (not for the first time) that all he felt was… cool.

It was after they returned from that mission, carrying Rob and Arty wrapped in thermal blankets they'd found at some point during the escape, that Conner finally screwed up the courage to talk to Superman.

His genetic-parent wasn't there during the debriefing. Of course, he wouldn't be. He was not a mentor to anyone on the Team. After they were debriefed and Conner watched Green Arrow carry a steaming mug of hot chocolate in the direction of the Cave's infirmary, where Robin and Artemis had been laid, the genomorph approached the Batman to ask politely (or rather, as polite as was possible for the Superboy) if he could arrange a meeting between him and the Superman.

"You wanted to see me?"

Conner nodded with awkward hesitation.

As he had asked, Batman had arranged for him and his genetic-parent to meet and talk. They were on neutral ground, nowhere near either Metropolis or the Cave. Shortly after escorting the genomorph to the agreed upon location he had promised that he wouldn't be far if it turned out they needed a mediator, but he would try not to interfere with whatever it was Conner felt he had to say to Superman. The Dark Knight had then disappeared from view, but the Superboy could still hear his heartbeat a bit of a way's off, just barely within human ear-shot in case they needed him, but far enough away to give the illusion of privacy.

The Man of Steel looked down at him expectantly. Not down from the normal height difference that there was between them, but down from where he hovered a few feet off the ground, as if poised to turn tail and shoot off into the distance at the drop of a pin. Conner craned his neck-up in order to see the man's face (so much like his own, a premonition of what he'd look like in another decade or two), the action making him feel small and insignificant, a lesser being addressing a higher power. But then, Superman usually made him feel that way without hovering above him as if reluctant to meet on the same level. Superman usually made him feel that way even when they weren't even in the same room together.

But that wasn't what he had requested this meeting to talk about.

"How…" The boy began, paused, looked down, looked up again, tried a second time. "How do you do it?"

"I'm sorry?" The Superman didn't follow.

"How do you live everyday so… insulated from the world around you?" Conner clarified. He peered up at his genetic-parent and wished he could hover up to meet the man at eye-level, craning his neck like this was annoying.

"What do you mean 'insulated'?" Superman asked cautiously.

Again, Conner found himself hesitating. He had never been very good at explaining himself, especially not to authority figures. He took a moment to consider his words before saying, "I mean our invulnerability. It's nice to never get hurt and all, but… doesn't it make you feel cut off sometimes?"

The boy lowered his eyes, suddenly feeling rather self-conscious.

"The rest of the Team, they're pretty durable for humans, but they're still wounded by bullets, fire can still burn them, the cold can still kill them… I don't feel cold, I mean, I feel the cold, am aware of the drop in temperature, but it doesn't bother me. Same with fire and heat, I can 'feel' it in the sense that I know its there, but not the sensation of burning. And bullets… I imagine what bullets feel like to me are what mosquito bites feel like to normal people. Doesn't that ever make you feel, I don't know… cut-off from the world? Like… like you live on the world, not in it?"

Conner chanced a glance up at his genetic-parent and didn't know what to make of what he saw. Superman stared down at him in shock. Not the kind of astonished distress he'd shown last summer on the night Conner had first emerged from Cadmus, no. It was more like the expression one wore when they'd just received an eye-opening revelation. But as shocked as the Superman looked it couldn't have been anywhere near as shocked as Conner felt when the Man of Steel lowered himself to plant his feet firmly on the ground to meet the boy on an equal level.

"Yes." He said. "Yes it does!"

END