Chapter Text
Brainy kept to his own devices once aboard the Legion ship, feeling neither here nor there as he wandered the vast hallways.
Everything appeared so familiar, yet distant and dream-like at the same time. He recognised the technology as he did his own ship, could work it in a heartbeat if he so wished, but the draw to connect to it felt like something of an invasion after all this time.
Would this ship even recognise him now? Would it retaliate if he tried?
Winn was the head pilot here regardless, and Brainy didn’t wish to step on his moment. He’d seen it when Winn had last visited; his intellect had flourished in the future, having been given the opportunity to grow beyond the limitations of twenty-first century technology. He had settled down here, found his place, made a family…
That last thought caused a hollow ache to creep out from behind Brainy’s ribs, only making the urge to retreat that much more profound.
It hadn’t taken him long to find his quarters - furnished with both a bed and lab equipment, as though this all wasn’t just some temporary arrangement that would slip from his fingers in due course.
Soon, they would be in Coluan territory, and then he would be wishing all of his friends goodbye for the last time.
A sharpness tore at Brainy’s lungs and he had to swallow quite suddenly, choking down the urge to sob. He twisted at his ring, though the action brought him no comfort. It felt tighter than it ever had before, heavier, no more than an irritant against his skin.
And yet, he couldn’t bear to take it off. He wasn’t sure whether he loathed his dependency on it or was relieved in some asinine way. After all, it would do nothing to save him. There was no saving him. His people’s very existence was at stake; keeping them alive was more than a worthy cause to die for.
Was it death? Truly? Even now, he did not know.
He supposed he would find out very soon.
“Brainy?”
Brainy startled at the sound of Winn’s voice, immediately followed up by three belated knocks on his bedroom door.
Brainy ran a hand over his face in an awkward attempt to gather his bearings, sucking several slow breaths through his teeth. He would have tried compartmentalising his emotions had he not known it would be a fruitless endeavour, especially against Winn. He had become… unnervingly perceptive over the course of the last year. It was more than a little annoying.
After a long moment, Brainy lifted his hand just enough to interact with the mechanisms that controlled his door’s locking function. With that small gesture, the slab of reinforced steel slid open to reveal Winn stood nervously on the other side.
Brainy barely caught a hint of his friend’s expression before turning sharply away, busying himself by pacing to the far side of the room. Already, he was regretting his decision to open the door. Why had he thought that wise? It would do no good to have Winn so close to him, not now, not when the mere thought of leaving this ship made him feel physically ill.
He hugged his arms close to his chest, closing his eyes, focusing on the background tasks running seamlessly through his thought tracks. The motions of his busy mind created an endless hum, a tune that carried him away to the furthest reaches of his thoughts, a peaceful disconnect from the torrid reality he’d sooner escape.
But, when Winn cleared his throat, Brainy knew that nothing was ever that easy.
“So,” Winn began, the door sliding to a close the moment he stepped inside. “This merge…”
Despite his better efforts, Brainy was unable to keep from flinching.
Whether Winn noticed, he didn’t verbalise. Instead, he said, “I’ve heard people talking. Gossip’s getting ‘round pretty fast. Mon-El’s treating it like some great honour, so did the emissary that visited us.”
Brainy closed his eyes at that, gritting his teeth. “Last year, it would not have been possible,” he admitted, his voice strained. “Removing my inhibitors has restored my connection to the Big Brain. And… and now I have been called upon to do what all must in eventuality.”
“What does this mean for you?” Winn asked gently.
Brainy shrugged. “I will disconnect from my corporeal form, and join the collective of minds.”
“And that’ll fix the Big Brain?”
Brainy’s jaw clenched. In all honesty, he knew very little about what might happen after he merged, only that if he didn’t, it would mean certain death for his species. Brainy shifted uncomfortably, hunching his shoulders. “Unclear,” he muttered. “But, if I do not try, I will have failed my people in every way.”
The Brainiacs were in no way a revered clan on Colu. Quite the opposite, in fact. They were infamous, loathed by many, and looked down upon with utmost disdain by anyone that may have remained. Brainy had never tried to publicise his exploits with the Legion to his people, but as a member of the United Planets, he was aware that simply existing as the sole Coluan representative for the team had piqued their interest some years ago.
Of course, it was by no means enough to wipe away everything his family had done. He suspected not even dying would be a great enough recompense for that.
“Can you answer me just one question?”
Brainy startled at the firmness in his friend’s voice, turning warily to meet him.
“And just know,” Winn added unwaveringly, “that if you give me the answer I’m looking for right now, I’ll fight this for you, okay? I swear to it.”
An exhausted laugh bubbled somewhere deep inside of Brainy’s chest. He respected Winn’s valiance, truly, but Brainy had long-since accepted that there was nothing anyone could do to change the course of his destiny.
He didn’t say a word against Winn. Instead, he continued to watch him, a brow half-raised, waiting for him to ask the question.
Winn’s returning smile was just as pained. “Do you want to do this?”
Something bitter soured the back of Brainy’s throat. Though he’d considered the thought a great many times, it was the first that someone had asked it of him so plainly. The persistent burn behind his eyes very nearly blinded him, but no tears followed suit. Perhaps he’d succeeded in boxing away some of his emotions, after all.
Eventually, Brainy shrugged, digging his fingers into his forearms. “I want a great many things,” he admitted, already seeing her in his mind’s eye. The vibrant smile of one Nia Nal, perfectly preserved amongst a thousand precious moments stored within his thought tracks. Her voice, her laughter, the heat of her lips pressed against his time and time again, igniting something deep inside his heart, always yearning for more.
Brainy shook himself, forcing a smile of his own. “And… protecting my people has always been one of them.”
Winn stared at him long and hard, a sadness shining bright behind his eyes. He didn’t a say a word, though Brainy wished suddenly that he would. If anything, Winn’s silence spoke more than words ever could have.
They both knew love, and they both knew what it felt like to leave those you loved the most behind. They had each jumped out of their respective times, found new friendships as a result, forging relationships that would last a lifetime.
That should last a lifetime.
In that silence, Brainy knew that Winn could feel his pain, as strongly as if it had been his own. It was one of the reasons why he had kept his distance from Imra since jumping aboard after the funeral. Catching the glimpses of second-hand mourning was painful enough, but he refused to allow her to feel the intensity of his hurt, his longing, the ache in his heart that only total separation from his physical form might remedy.
Yet, he didn’t want that peace. The ability to feel so strongly came with hardships, that was true. But, that pain was worth it, worth enduring endlessly if he could feel every good emotion that trumped the bad over and over again.
Winn didn’t like it, that was clear, and had Brainy said those magic words, he would have doubtlessly jumped into action immediately.
But such attempts would have been futile, only serving to delay the inevitable.
Brainy could not leave his people to die, and if merging had the potential to keep them safe, to rebuild the cracks that had been left behind by his ancestor’s assault, then it would all be worth it.
“Okay…” Winn said eventually, unable to hide the blow Brainy’s answer had delivered. He let that one word hang in the air between them, a last murmur of hope holding out that Brainy might break that silence. That he might tell Winn exactly what he wanted to hear.
But what they both wanted was inconsequential against the grand design. The sooner Winn understood that, the easier Brainy’s final farewell would be.
He could only hope, at least.
After that, Winn didn’t try to push Brainy any further.
The emissary had made it quite clear to the Legion that this was meant to be a sorely desired opportunity amongst Coluans. And, if she had managed to convince them of that, then Brainy had not the energy to admit the truth. Merging was simply something a fully biological being would never hope to completely understand.
He’d kept his goodbyes brief with both the Super Friends and the Legion for that exact reason. He couldn’t stand the emotional toll of a full-scale goodbye, not when he couldn’t be transparent with the conditions of the merge. Only Nia knew the enormity of it, of everything he was giving up to do this, and even then… he hadn’t shared his deepest fear with her.
That, once he left the mortal coil behind, he might lose all sense of self along with it. Enough that even the pieces of her he had promised to keep with him might fade away.
Even with everything Brainy was keeping from them, the mood aboard the Legion ship appeared especially dour. Brainy had always made a habit of keeping to his own devices on long journeys, preferring the company of his own thoughts as he worked on a task. Lab partners would come and go, but Nura wasn’t here, nor Lyle, and with Winn finally respecting Brainy’s wishes, he didn’t suspect he’d see his friend again until he was being waved off the ship for a final time.
It was the way it had to be, he rationalised. Truth had been his promise to Nia, and he had broken her heart in unimaginable ways to maintain it.
The Legion would persevere without him. The Super Friends need only know he was fulfilling a duty to his people.
In a way, it would be his final act as a hero before the meaning of such a word faded away along with his self. Along with all the selves he wore across his chest.
In the remaining hours before his departure, he sat still on the bunk bed tucked into the corner of his quarters, reliving his brightest moments with Nia Nal before even the potency of her flame would be snuffed out along with everything else that made him an individual.
In the stillness of his room, under the soft whirr of the ship’s engines careening sleekly through space, the true extent of his fears finally tore free from their boxes.
Only then did Brainy allow himself to cry.