Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The first sensation he felt upon awaking from what seemed like an eternity of blackness was the comfort. The warmth began deep in his chest and radiated through his fingertips by his sides, through his bare toes underneath him, and even through the strands of hair on his head, long but floating around his scalp in resemblance to a saintly halo.

The next sensation he noticed was a light tapping that reverberated across a smooth surface just next to his face, a sound that reached his ear drums, and a feeling that traveled across his skin, alerting his brain and raising goosebumps in its wake for preparation. The tapping was accompanied by a loud buzzing sound that he found particularly interesting. He cracked an eyelid open to reveal blurred blobs of dark greys in stark contrast to the surrounding blinding whites. The colors that had moved back and forth, as felt with that blanket warmth, now stood still, watching him. The buzzing softened significantly in volume, and the tapping dissipated as the blurs became smaller yet, moving away from him. They knew he was awake and so they were stepping back. He wanted to examine them further, even clear his fuzzing vision to allow himself clarity, but his eyelids were heavy, and denying himself that beckoning promise of relaxation was a herculean effort. And the blackness was inviting for sleep.

He felt more aware to his surroundings the second time he woke up. The warmth in his chest was still present, a gift that granted him comfort and the added privilege of feeling the objects around him; the cooled liquid-gel solution around his body, the thick glass around him, even the bodies moving outside of his enclosure. There was no tapping on the glass of his tank to disrupt his thoughts this time, but the buzzing was back, and it was louder now. Clearer in meaning. The sound created patterns and resulted in response from a different set of sounds unique in pitch and pattern.

Words.

But he could not understand the people conversing, and the pull of exhaustion felt fuller than his subtle curiosity. So, he fell asleep once more.

The third time he woke up, the warmth radiated further from his skin, reaching the walls of the room around him, as well as the people in it. He felt the environment crystal clear around him, though distinctly wet from the solution in which he was still enveloped. He craved answers now, but he decided to keep his eyes closed in caution. Feigning sleep kept the buzzing conversation from decreasing so greatly. And now, the buzzing words were excitedly translucent.

"-the progress?" He heard someone say, the sounds ticking up in pitch at the end to indicate a question was spoken. The words slowly blossomed with meaning in his still-sluggish mind, and he admitted to himself that he was curious about the progress, too, whatever that entailed

But before the response was provided, he recognized a fierce ache in his neck and back. The muscles buried deep in his shoulders, arms, and legs tensed and relaxed in steady rhythm against his will. Each confusing forced tension was met with a pleased sound from outside of the tank, in addition to a sharp twitch from his own limbs. He frowned with annoyance, and with continuously growing curiosity, as well as a vicious crease between his eyebrows, he opened both of his eyes. He found himself curled up in a fetal position and suspended in the thick, clear liquid-gel solution. His nose was buried in the crease between his thighs and his arms hung limp at his side. He felt simultaneously cool from the solution, enough for the presence of goosebumps dancing across his skin, and warm from the blanket buried deep within. His thighs obstructed most of his vision, and he believed it best to keep his chin tucked against his chest and avoid the attention of the onlookers. He saw and then felt the large circular stickers that lined his arms and legs, attached at the center to wires that traveled down to the bottom of the containment tube where his feet would be touching the ground if not for the suspension in the liquid.

"Great," another voice chirped, and the relief was comprehensible in the tone. Though this time, the voice was much closer to him, and he concentrated diligently on not flinching in response. His eyes snapped shut again, burying his face closer to his legs and feeling the light tickling of his own eyelashes brush across his skin. He found his eye movement was thankfully hidden from the onlookers underneath the hair that continued to surround the apex of his heard like a veil, shielding his consciousness from the world, and allowing him to listen further. "The kid is responding well to the EMS. His muscles are already less stiff than they were this time yesterday. I am hoping if this progress continues, he will have no difficulty walking when he finally gets out. His legs should support him without difficulty and lifting should come naturally."

"Does he have any powers like the alien?"

"That remains to be seen."

His left leg jerked again, against his will like before but more startling this time as he was listening to the conversation intently. The surprise caused his shoulders to flinch in shocked response to the sudden stimuli. The two owners of the voices paused, and he waited for their eventual retort. This jerking movement was so different in comparison to what he had been doing before opening his eyes, the mere reflexive responses he performed in his unconsciousness, that the men must have noticed the change in behavior and determined that he was now awake. He froze as anxiety pulled at his middle and his pupils shot back and forth rapidly beneath his eyelids, waiting for the retaliation.

"Did you see that?" The first voice finally spoke, the same man that had initially asked about his progress.

But before he had the opportunity to hear whether the second man had seen his accidental movement, the muscles in his left calf locked with sharpness, and he felt an intense, stabbing pain sweep through the entire leg before radiating across his body. A strangled sound tried to escape through his throat, but it was blocked by something large that obtruded his airway. He hadn't noticed the stretch of his lips before that moment, but now that he recognized it, he could no longer ignore the frustrating ache that plagued his jaw. He opened his eyes again and this time fully appreciated the thick tube protruding from his mouth, winding between his chest and thighs, and swooping low next to his body with extra give before reaching back up toward the top of the container in which he was trapped.

Trapped.

The word frightened him, and he was bombarded with the desire to claw his way out of the glass. The muscles in his left leg were still locked in persistent contraction and his neurons seemed to be screeching for relief. He wrapped both arms around this leg and straightened his right leg underneath him until his toes hesitantly reached the slippery bottom. With his hands wrapped firmly around his left shin, he pulled the leg impossibly closer to his chest to cradle it tightly, ignoring the stress to the wires and tubes around him as they were pulled taut. And just when he believed he could no longer handle this pain without his body exploding, it vanished as quickly as it had come. He huffed out a breath that was greedily swallowed by the tube, and he opened his eyes again. However, he did not remove the tender leg from his protective hold just yet, instead deciding to kneed his palms into the muscle for complete relief. It took several seconds for him to realize the voices had started back up again, this time hurried with interest and panic, and he tuned in to catch the somewhat-comprehensible conversation.

"Dab, we need to call-"

"Not yet," the second voice, Dab, snapped loudly before approaching him with slow steps. The man's outline was still blurry through the liquid solution, but he watched as the man's wavering outline raised the right hand and pressed the palm against the glass between them. Any trace of residual pain that may have resided in his muscle dissipated, and his mind was replaced entirely with interest as this was the first time someone interacted with him directly. "Hello."

The man's word was soft and gentle as it was spoken to him. Tranquil. Dab's features, now closer to him, cleared and the man was smiling kindly.

He became so intrigued as he unwrapped an arm from the tight grip around his left leg, and he pressed his own palm against the glass in response, mirroring Dab's gesture. His hand was paler than the man's, and the skin of his fingertips were wrinkled from the prolonged exposure to the liquid. He looked out at the room in which the two men stood and found they were not suspended in the solution like he was. There was a large table just behind Dab covered with scattered pages, pens, several strange boxes, and a digital clock reading 11:05. Though this was only the third time he remembered being awake, he felt the names for the objects blossom with understanding in his mind like an internal dictionary that he did not remember writing for himself.

"I am sorry," Dab continued, murmuring now in a voice that was nearly too low to be heard. He pressed his body closer to the glass to hear the man's voice a little better, his other arm loosening fully and his left leg straightening out to automatically join his right in erect position. "For that big jolt to your leg, I mean. I had a sneaking suspicion you were privately awake, feigning rest. But I wanted to make sure."

He felt caught. He wished to argue he was not meaning to be devious in his actions, but even if he wasn't hindered by a large tube shoved down his throat, he felt he may have difficulty delivering such an obvious fabrication of his innocence. Despite the cool gel pushing against him, his face warmed, and Dab chuckled.

"It's okay, kid. You aren't in trouble. Though, I appreciate your innateness to be sneaky, and it makes me wonder what other innate behaviors you developed on your own in there."

Cheeks still flushed with childish guilt, he moved his hand opposite to the one pressed against the glass and touched the tube protruding from his mouth. His tiptoes gently pressed against the bottom, a surface that was somehow colder than the other surfaces, but he enjoyed the persistent feel of weightlessness. He tapped an index finger on the plastic tube and then tilted his head in question, hoping the meaning came across with clarity. It did.

"That is for oxygen. You need that to live," Dab explained.

He shook his head in response, entirely dissatisfied with that answer. Now that he was free from the agonizing muscular pain in his leg, the stretch of his facial muscles demanded his attention and his jaw begged for relief. Dab began to explain the tube's placement and the necessity for his lungs, but he found the words boring, opting instead to completely tune the man out. Instead, he reached up to follow the tube's exit from the container. His fingers brushed against the lip of the tube, just before the rest of it disappeared from his sight to the opposite side of the container. The metal was cold there too, similarly to the temperature under his toes. His gaze fell back to Dab, who was still speaking diligently and providing him with the information for which he did not care

The other man was silent and watching intently, so he decided to ignore that man in return. His hand fell from the container's ceiling to land at his own abdomen, where a much smaller tube disappeared beneath his skin. His head cocked again in question.

"That," Dab answered with audible excitement (though for what, he was not sure), "is a feeding tube. Providing you with nutrients until you can consume them yourself just like we do."

He gave it an experimental tug, but Dab jumped forward with a shout of anxiety. His eyebrows shot up in surprise at the sudden high-energy reaction, and his actions faltered. As the initial shock over the man's panicked sound dissipated, he noticed the resulting pull deep in his gut, creating a highly distasteful sensation that sent his head spinning.

"I love-really love-that you are so inquisitive about your surroundings, but please leave that alone. It will hurt you if you pull it out."

He decided to follow the scientist's advice and left the feeding tube alone. The sickening kick to the abdomen subsided, and he raised his hand to point to his own chest with that same quizzical expression.

"You want to know more about yourself?" Dab asked with surprise. The man glanced at the other for a brief second before turning back to him and continuing. "You are a very special person, and you will save this earth one day. Whether that be next week or thirty years from now, I do not know. But the planet's future rests with you."

That answer was far too philosophical for him to interpret, as he was just looking for a name at that moment. But he listened politely and waited his turn before moving on to his next question and hoping for better luck this time. With the palm he still had pressed against the space between them, he tapped on the glass, gazing at the man intently and raising an eyebrow in question.

"Would you like to know about this?" Dab asked, waving his opposite arm up and down to showcase the containment tube. When he did not respond, the second man asked for a yes or no via nod or head shake respectively, both motions demonstrated dramatically for understanding.

He nodded.

"You are still... developing, and this tube keeps you healthy and safe while you do that."

He tried to state he did not need to develop further or stay in the tube for safety because he was clearly developed enough, but the only sound that came out around the annoying plastic was a wretched slur. The effort burned in his throat and his overwhelming helplessness hit him as his eyes suddenly stung, creating an itching located deep in the back of his head. He watched as Dab grimaced, and the man's eyes lowered for a short moment, almost appearing guilty.

He did not recognize the irritation in his eyes and squeezed them shut in response. His own hand lifted slowly until he dug his palm into the eyelids for relief.

Dab sighed softly, "I know this is hard. But you are almost finished, and then you can talk to me. You will be able to say anything you want, whenever you want. All of the thoughts you have right now swimming around that beautiful head of yours, you can tell me everything. You can walk, and run, and fly. You can sing. I can show you movies that I think you would like, and you can listen to music until you find your own taste. You can try foods and discover your own preferences." He moved even closer, his voice lowering. "You can come live with me when you get out of here."

"Dabney..." the other man warned.

With one palm still pressed against his irritated eyes, his opposite hand slipped from the glass and wrapped around his own middle protectively. He wished to get out of this containment. He wished for those things that were being promised to him. But Dab was now Dabney, and he apparently still had to develop... and he felt overwhelmed.

"Baby, I kn-" Dabney started, with a voice gentle and melancholic, soothing him in his time of need. The tone nearly suggested the man was just as disappointed in the answer as he was. But the man's voice cut off the very second it was interrupted by a sharp ringing that startled all three occupants of the room.

"Donovan," the first man hissed quickly. "Luthor is calling. He cannot hear you talking to the clone like that, don't you know how pissed he would be if he did? You know what he would do-"

"He is just a child," the second man, Donovan this time instead of Dabney, boomed back with a hand raised in demand for halt, and spinning around to face the other man. If the tone wasn't so startling, he would have been confused by this man being called a third name. "A child that I have cared for since his creation, not Luthor. If he wanted to raise the kid so bad, he would be present down here for the EMS sessions, for the telemetry scans, and for the countless other tests you and I performed to make sure he is healthy. He is scared; he does not understand why he is here or even who you and I are." Donovan turned toward the glass again, eyes lowered and continued in a soft voice after a quick pause, "And besides, Luthor will not know he is awake."

The man's words blossomed with meaning in his mind, piece by piece like a horrific wave crashing down over him. He was both a clone and a child, and Donovan was going to make sure the person on the other end of the ringing did not know he was awake. Donovan lifted a hand and waved to him from the dry side of the glass, a gesture meant for parting, he noticed with somberness. But as Donovan waved farewell to him, he also noticed the man was lifting his other hand to reach for one of the boxes on the table next to his containment tube. A soft snick sounded as the man pressed a button, and his eyes snapped wider with terror and understanding. The thin tube that snaked through the top of the tube and found its destination in the crease of his elbow produced a liquid colder than the temperature of the surrounding gel. Before he could beg for continued wakefulness with his eyes, his eyelids drooped dangerously, and his limbs felt as though they were weighed down with invisible tons. Donovan murmured an extra apology, soft in volume and with sincerity matched in the man's eyes, standing with both palms pressed against the glass now. But the clone couldn't respond before his vision was enveloped in that blackness again, proving threatening rather than comfortable this time.

He felt sluggish when he awoke the final time, only a mere half hour past the previous, according to the clock on the table. But to his relief and disappointment, he was notably alone. The liquid gel was still cool against his skin, but the warmth in his core was persistent in presence too. He blinked heavily several times before his vision cleared completely and he felt more alert. His eyes rolled in his sockets, examining the room with interest, when he noticed jagged rough edges of a small square in the containment's ceiling above his head. He reached up with a curious finger and ran it across the outline. The sharp edge snagged on his skin, and when he pulled his hand back to his side, it left behind a thick line of dark red in the gel. He waited in silence, staring at the two large doors to the left of his tube. The doors remained closed, and when it became obvious that nobody was going to rush into the room and chastise him for waking up and cutting his finger, he decided to try again.

He reached up once more and curled his fingernails in the edges of the square and gave it a firm tug. As the square popped off and revealed colorful wires crisscrossing throughout the top of the container, he grinned with genuine glee as much as the plastic tube allowed. With that warmth he felt in his core and swimming throughout his limbs, more prominent now and in deeper contrast to the cold gel, he pushed forward toward the exposed wires until they moved without his physical interference, and the clone's eyes widened. He pushed more, pushing that warmth out as harshly as he could while feeling the flame grow inside of him, and he watched in awe as the wires snapped. A loud clicking sound rang through the tube, hardly muffled despite the thick solvent, and a drain opened underneath him, near his toes. With a rumbling sound, the maximum level of the liquid gel began to decrease as it was drained from the container. When the line passed below the top of his head, traveling quickly below his hair and forehead and leaving him still dripping, his hair clung annoyingly to his forehead and neck for the very first time. He quickly pushed it back from his face, staying as placed due to the solution. And as the gel passed below his chin, his hands moved to the breathing tube protruding from his mouth. The plastic was sticky under his fingertips, residual from the solvent and mirroring that of his own skin, but he followed it down until he met the creases of his mouth where the tube was taped firmly in place. He tugged at the sticking adhesive and winced with sensitivity when it pulled at his lips. But this was easy for him in comparison to actually pulling the tube out of his throat. Though Donovan told him about the benefits to his lungs, he hadn't appreciated how deep the breathing tube traveled. He completely loathed the several seconds required to rid himself of the device.

When the end of the plastic finally slid against his tongue, scraping the roof of his mouth and drawing more blood, and leaving his lips with a small pop, the gel was only up to his calves. The sudden loss of pressure in his mouth and throat caused the clone to dry heave, and he leaned forward against the glass to brace himself as he sucked in deep breaths. The air itself felt sticky in the tube, but he appreciated the gentle way it inflated his lungs as his chest expanded. He exhaled with equal force as was required for the inhale, and he was pleasantly surprised to notice it came out easier due to the decreased environmental pressure. He practiced taking in air and releasing breaths back out into the world until it became better-known to his body, a task taking several seconds. The sound of remaining gel being sucked through the drain gained his attention, and he watched the locks on the outside of the tube unlatch. A hiss rang, and the glass popped forward in creation of a door, and cool air flooded the small containment. He quickly caught himself on the edge of the tube, and he froze with surprise as goosebumps decorated his skin and a chill traveled up his back. His pupils were blown wide as he scanned the room, still waiting for someone to burst through the doors. He finally had a way out.

His grip tightened on the glass edges, knuckles turned white in effort, and he hesitantly stretched a leg out of the tube. His big toe made first contact on the cold tile floor, albeit increasingly slow, and he held his breath as the rest of his foot melted down against the freezing tile. A snicker passed his lips, and he inched his opposite foot forward, scooting it across the bottom of the tube, though he still held a firm grasp on the glass, resembling one learning to ice skate for the first time. After an anxious and excited pause, he shifted his weight to the leg that was already out of the tube and he lifted the other, bringing it with added caution to the tile. He remained bent over, hugging the tube door for several seconds before he let go and pulled his body upright.

His legs shook violently under him to the point that he believed he would fall to his knees, but he widened his stance and held his arms out in abduction to his center for increased steadiness until he found his balance. He released a breathy chuckle as he relished in the pull of his muscles, a feeling still foreign to him after only knowing the sensation of floating in the liquid gel, but still proof that he was standing. He shivered as large clumps of coagulated gel fell from his long strands of hair and dripped down his back and legs. He stepped forward, but a sharp tugging of his abdomen halted his exit. He looked down at the feeding tube protruding from his stomach and the head-spinning nausea returned. He cautiously picked at the tube and gave it an experimental tug, surprising himself as it slipped out a half inch. With a deep inhale and an added pause for fear, he ripped the tube from his abdomen. The hole left in its wake was red with irritation, but the clone ignored it in favor of ripping the numerous circular stickers from his limbs and the IV from his inner elbow. One final sticker was located at his temple, and when he pulled it off, his freedom became even more apparent.

Wearing a satisfied grin, he turned to examine the work table next to him, and he picked up the clock. The digital device had several buttons that he pressed to experience the change in lines on the screen accompanied by a light beep. When this no longer held his attention, he replaced it on the table and reached out a hesitant pinky finger toward the closest box to him, the one that he watched Donovan reach for that same day. He pressed a red button, and the machine hissed angrily as it produced a mysterious liquid. The translucent solution traveled from the metal to the containment tube via the thin line he had ripped from his elbow. It dripped pathetically from the shredded end, and it landed on the metal floor with a satisfying drip. He turned back to the table and examined the papers, but quickly found them to be boring. He took a step forward and a shrill laugh burst from his chest. The warm feeling grew until his heels lifted off the tile, followed shortly by his toes. And then the warmth exploded.

The clone giggled as he flew, waving his arms out at each side in sheer excitement as the rush of movement flooded his head. The sound of his laughter only increased in volume as papers were caught in the breeze and shot up from the tables, and mysterious beakers fell from the tables scattered throughout the room. With deep concentration, he manipulated his warm blanket feeling to rearrange items throughout the room as he flew past them. During his joyous laps, he realized that the large laboratory was filled with containment tubes similar in size and set-up to his own, but filled with tangled-appearing corpses. None of the bodies appeared to be moving and he ignored them. With an excited whoop, his voice cracked in pitch, and his throat felt raw from use. His joy was quickly replaced with irritation at the burning caused by making so much noise now after his prior forced-silence. The laughter died, and he rubbed at his neck for comfort. He took a large step toward the two doors provided as an exit, but when his foot landed on the first step that would bring him to the upper platform, a bright red light flashed above him.

A blaring alarm rang shrilling in his ears, and he slapped his palms over them, desperate for relief. He grit his teeth in frustration, but quickly bounded up the steps. A mechanical voice blared through the intercom above him as he reached the upper platform, warning: “The clone has escaped!” in a highly dangerous tone.

"Shit," he hissed, and he staggered as quickly as his body allowed to the two elevator doors serving as the main exit. He recognized these doors with the assistance of a foreign memory, something he promised himself he would work to understand once he reached safety. He slammed his hand against the single button presented between the two elevator doors, and he shifted his weight between sore legs while waiting. With a bright ding, one of the elevator doors opened and presented the clone with a large metal box. With the aid of a deep breath, he stepped into the elevator car and stared at the set of numbers paired with buttons before him. He pressed the highest option available, a button at the top labeled 24, with the intent of traveling as far away from this lab as possible, which he assumed was signified as the B at the bottom of the list.

A thin light surrounding the button accompanying 24 flashed for a moment before it extinguished again. The clone groaned and tried the next one down, 23, which presented in similar behavior. A thin light appeared to outline the button, dim but filled with hope, and then it was gone. He dragged his fist across each of the numbers, but the buttons lit up only for a moment before the car was left empty and refusing to budge. With a flash of anger, he reached out with that warm blanket and choked out a heavy exhale. A soft ding sounded from just above his head, and he was delighted to find the elevator light up brightly in response. The doors rattled softly and shut, enclosing the clone in yet another box. His eyes snapped closed, and he breathed slowly with steady reminders that this situation was different than the tube, this was a closed box taking him to his freedom. When the car moved, a feeling of emptiness flooded his stomach, an ache prominent enough for him to grasp the sides of the elevator rail in response. When the car stopped, as well as the unfortunate feeling, the doors opened and he found himself on level 24, as helpfully provided to him by the number etched onto the frame.

The clone jumped out of the elevator box with relief before the doors could close and move him again, and he relished in the open space as he walked silently down the hallway. The air was much warmer up here than it had been in the laboratory, a feeling that he appreciated despite the persistence of nervous goosebumps. He wrapped his arms tightly around his torso, and he moved soundlessly to the end of the hallway where he was faced with an open door. He carefully pushed the door open further and stepped in. The clone looked around in awe until his eyes landed on a hairless man sitting at a large desk, looking down at a set of paper with an intensity that caused his voice to momentarily catch in his throat.

“Where am I?” He asked when he found his voice, though still strained with effort.

The sound startled the man from his concentration, and he swiftly closed his book as his eyes snapped up to the cause of disruption, only to widen significantly when he saw who stood before him in the office: out of their tube and several meters up from basement. It was obvious the man had been trapped deep in his own thoughts if he did not hear someone approaching him. The clone appreciated causing such surprise, and he moved further into the room, hugging the wall against his back as he tiptoed around the room.

“There’s been a breach, Luthor!” Someone shouted with clear distress from just outside of the door through which the clone had entered, accompanied by the sound of his own footsteps as he was sprinting toward the office. He reached the door frame and froze with jaw hung ajar as he stared at the clone already inside the room. The man sitting down sighed quietly.

“No kidding,” Luthor murmured and rolled his eyes. "Alert Donovan." At the sound of the scientist's name, the clone cocked his head to the side curiously. He wondered what Donovan would say when the man found out that he had escaped just after their one-sided conversation regarding Donovan's caring for the clone. Fresh, burning guilt filled his stomach, and he had no choice but to lower his eyes in shame. He then recognized the name Luthor as the person Donovan stated could not know he was awake yet. The clone sighed and wondered just how he managed to mess that up so soon after his escape, seeing as though Luthor was the very first person he saw outside of his containment. In his thought-provoking silence, Luthor's heavy gaze fell once more onto him, eyes that held feigned little interest reflected through piercing, judgmental pupils. "I am very pleased to hear you form a sentence appropriate to your confusion. I was worried about the formation of your Broca's and Wernicke's areas, seeing as though they were the neurological problem areas in the development of your immediate predecessor."

The clone glanced at the breathless man in the door frame, who was quickly speaking into a phone but watching him with terror. He grimaced and turned back to Luthor. "Where am I?" He asked again, and continued his trek around the vast room, intently examining the items. He passed by an orange couch, and he reached out with a hesitant finger to push into the cushion. The feeling was startling but not unpleasant, and the corner of his mouth creeped up as his finger left a deep imprint in the fabric. He stepped on a fuzzy black-colored rug just next to the couch, but the way the pieces snaked themselves between his toes nearly caused him to jump off of it in surprise. He walked across the rug, albeit with much faster footsteps, until he landed on the normal carpet again with relief. He caught a glimpse of a large window with curtains drawn wide to allow the presence of warm sunlight, and he gasped with delight. The clone allowed himself the distraction as he approached the glass and looked outside at the world. One glance at the movement of the earth below, and he was helpless against his feet lifting off of the carpet as he pressed himself closer to the view. The street so far below was packed with cars rushing home from work and containing grumbling drivers desperate for a moment of peace before their lives dragged them right back to it the following morning. People strolled down the streets alone or in groups of two, listening to music or conversing with their hands. Birds were soaring through the air around him, level with the tall building, and singing music like Donovan promised he could. He wished to join them all.

"And you can fly too. That is exciting." Luthor's voice sounded distantly annoyed, but with a hint of curiosity he couldn't cover. His words snapped the clone out of his private thoughts. "Meeting you has been a treat, but it is time to go back to the lab, don't you think?"

The clone did not think that.

"I don't want to go down there again." His tone was soft and the pleading came automatically. But when Luthor only stood up with a frown, showing his height as reaching an entire head and upper chest taller than the clone, he became nervous and defensive. The table to the left of him, conveniently placed between the two began to creak as the legs wobbled against the floor. His toes landed on the ground once more but the protective warmth radiated dangerously, growing hotter. Luthor was not making any move to sit back down, and so the clone used the blanket to reach out in further warning. Sheets of papers blew out from their binding of an aged book on the desk, resulting in flickers of white fluttered through the air until they came to fall beside him. The lamps scattered around the room blinked in response to the telepathic manipulation. Pens and sticky notes lifted in the air and danced a distinguished-appearing jig, threatening to collide with anyone in their path. Despite the surrounding chaos, Luthor simply turned to his chair-side miniature table, and he opened a small wooden box decorated with a silver clasp and carvings indistinguishable to his unexpected company. The green that was produced from inside the box appeared magnificent, and the object would have intrigued the clone had he not been plagued by sudden turmoil that churned deep in his belly and weakened his muscles. The items fell from the sky, landing in heaps on the floor to which Luthor sneered.

"Listen to me," Luthor demanded, holding the box in his hand and taking a step closer to the clone. He cried out in distress as the pain and weakness worsened, and he took a step back to press his back against the window. "You are not supposed to be out of the laboratory. Do you understand me?"

Despite the desire to screech and throw his head against the wall, he remembered Donovan's lesson, and nodded in response.

“Excellent. First, you need to calm down. Your action are completely unacceptable,” the man warned in a hard voice, and he motioned around at the remnants of the soaring debris. The clone considered snapping back with attitude, telling the man that allowing him to be locked in the basement was unacceptable, but the man moved first. Luthor pulled a stone from the box, the obvious cause of the radiating green as it was shining with the color itself. He stepped closer to the clone, who couldn't help but groan and grimace, stumbling to the side and nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste to move away from the sickly feeling. His hip hit the orange couch as Luthor continued, "You come in here, in my office, acting like a spoiled child and throwing a tantrum, having the audacity to refuse what I have asked of you, and instead choosing to throw my work around. I should make you clean up everything you have wrecked in here." He towered over the clone, who stared at him with mouth gaping. He no longer wished to snap back, but instead begged the universe for a large rock he could hide under. Luthor's eyes narrowed impossibly further. "But honestly, you are filthy and I fear you would only worsen the mess. Your disrespect is staggering, and I will make sure you at least clean that up. Second, regardless what you may wish, it is time to go back to the lab."

The clone didn't want to go back to the cold lab, and he definitely did not want to return to his specific containment tube, but Luthor appeared to be herding him out of the office room and into the hallway. He tried to resist, to simply fly over the bald man and move straight for that window. He could feel the window with the warm blanket in his chest, and he knew how easy it would be to shatter that glass and leave this building forever. But he still felt so sick and weak, and he didn't think he had the strength to lift his body off the ground like this. The green rock became more painful as Luthor moved closer toward him, and to his disliking, the clone was forced to take large steps back right up to the dreadful elevator doors. His ears were ringing sharply, and his exhales were being forced out between clenched teeth alongside groans and hisses. He pressed his palms to his ears to drown out the irritating noise, so he did not hear the man behind him, the same one that had nervously made a phone call to Donovan and apparently led the way to the elevators, slam a hand against the button. Nor did he hear the soft ding of arrival this time. He stepped back with footfalls matching Luthor's advancing ones until he found himself right back in the box, his feet chilled against the floor once more and the walls closing in on him. Luthor passed the green stone to the other man, who stepped into the elevator with the clone, backing him completely into a corner now and watching him with a distrusting gaze. He considered taking the opportunity presented during the passing of the horrible rock to execute his escape; all he needed was a few seconds. But he felt so weak, and his limbs were hardly maintaining the strength necessary to hold him up, much less sprint.

"Is there something you would like to say for yourself?" Luthor asked the clone with his chin raised high with intimidation.

The younger glared at him, hands still pressed firmly to his ears. Luthor raised a threatening eyebrow that promised the kid would regret saying anything but the man's desired response, but he hissed anyway, "I don't want to go back down there."

Luthor considered the clone for a short, silent moment before snapping to the other man, “Take it to the lab. I’ll be down in a minute." And the man now wielding the green stone nodded in confirmation, scanned his badge on an invisible reader, and stepped closer to the clone as the elevator doors closed between them and Luthor. He tried to concentrate on the feeling of the floor vibrating underneath him, using this as a technique of grounding during his panic, but he didn't understand why the man hadn't been required to press a button for the elevator to move and he really did not want to return to that test tube. He was already back in a horribly small box, moving down this time instead of up, which only created further abdominal discomfort. He was being led back into the laboratory by an armed man, where a man who wasn't even supposed to know he was awake was going to force him back into the containment pod. He felt so helpless and sick as the green stone taunted him with its mysterious energy. He focused solely on standing instead, and ground his teeth together in anticipation. After an elevator ride that felt conflicting between too short and too long of a journey, the doors opened and the familiar diminished lights of the lab met him on the other side. When he made no sign to move yet, his company in travel snapped in frustration and jerked his head toward the exit. But the clone still refused to move until the man pressed that green stone against his bare chest, eliciting a scream of confusion and agony from the child as the rock felt like fire. That was encouragement enough and he ran from the elevator back into the tube-filled room from which he had first escaped. The man followed him slowly, but remained next to the elevator, whose doors closed with a soft sound.

“What is that thing?” The clone panted out, pointing to the stone with one hand and wrapping his other across his torso, lacing his fingers around his opposite shoulder. He was relieved to find the man remained firmly planted several feet from him now, no longer directing the clone's movements with the aid of pain. But the man did not answer his question, only shifted his eyes nervously between the clone and the opposite elevator door, obviously waiting for the arrival of others. "Please do not make me go back in there," he tried again, whispering this time with sincerity, and shyly eyeing the containment with the glass door still open on its hinges.

Before either of the occupants could speak further, the opposite elevator opened and Luthor stepped through the doors, followed closely by five other people, including Donovan. The clone brightened significantly when he saw a familiar face and he took a step closer to the group in seeking help from someone he knew cared. However, his feet halted quickly when he saw from the corner of his eyes as the man that accompanied him in the elevator held up the green rock in warning, and he shuffled back closer toward the steps leading to the lower platform.

"Well?" Luthor asked vehemently to no one in particular. "How the hell did it escape?" The room remained silent, and his threatening gaze fell on the man holding the stone.

"I don't know, Mr. Luthor," he stuttered, wringing his hands and sweating anxiously. "The latch was sealed when I checked it this morning. We didn't even receive a notification that he was awake." He relented the stone back to Luthor and glanced at the clone with shame.

“Well, obviously it is awake, and you need to do something about that.”

“Yes Sir," he answered hastily. "Do you want me to retrieve the krypton-syringe?”

“Not yet...” Luthor leveled the clone with a scrutinizing gaze, causing the younger the shift his weight between his feet uncomfortably and glance around the basement. His eyes landed on Donovan again, but the man was watching Luthor intently, seemingly ready to shout out at any moment. He didn’t know what the word 'krypton-syringe' meant, but based on his interactions with Luthor thus far, it seemed like a threat. “We finally have a success. Let’s see if we can talk it back into the tube,” Luthor continued, speaking as though the clone was unable to hear him or understand that the man was talking about him.

“Yes Sir," the other answered, and turned back toward the clone, taking a large purposeful step toward him. Three of the scientists, all clad in the long white coats and thin-rimmed glasses, followed in suit and approached him. With no where else to go, but paired with the desire to create more space between himself and the men, the clone ran down the steps and backed further away. He was now level with his own containment tube, something he loathed to admit, but he stayed close to the center of the lab, allowing himself several feet in distance.

To his overwhelming fear, the men followed him down the stairs and created a large semi circle around him, inconveniently blocking the exits. Luthor, still standing near the elevator doors, held up the green stone in a warning that still reached the clone as he felt his stomach churn angrily. He considered just following their directions because at least in his solitude capture, he was free from pain. But he hated that tube, and he already decided that he would not return to it. With an angry huff of air, he dragged his fingers across his face, and he rubbed at his closed eyes with frustration. One of the white-coated scientists came too close, and in his fiery despise, the clone grabbed him and threw him into a wall with shocking force. He pounced on the man and growled in his face through clenched teeth, despite being lanky in size and a full foot shorter than him in comparison. More of the scientists moved to apprehend the clone, but Luthor shook his head and held up a halting hand, ceasing their ascent on the scene.

“I am not going back!” the younger screamed with an added blow to the unlucky scientist’s face with a clenched fist. A sickening crunch accompanied the feeling of skin against his own knuckles, and the man gasped. "Why won't you let me go?"

“I’m afraid you’ll have to direct all further questions to Mr. Luther,” the scientist mumbled through a busted lip and broken nose, with wide eyes glued to the clone’s fist that was once again raised above his face. Luthor's eyebrow lifted, unable to hide that he was impressed with the scientist's professionalism during stress.

“Mr. Luthor,” the clone emphasized with bite, standing up and turning his gaze on the smug-faced man positioned across the room.

“Lex will do just fine,” the bald man stated smoothly.

“Lex,” the clone corrected, grinding his teeth together is frustration. “Where am I? What is this place?”

“You are home, of course.”

He paused. That word created an interesting but conflicting tug at his chest. The word home felt like comfort, and he found foreign memories of a family together and a bed with blankets and pillows. He looked around at the dimmed basement, at the tall tubes filled to the brim with mysterious liquid and crammed with strange bodies, and the men wearing ties and coats. Books and binders cluttered the desks and small glass tubes were scattered next to them. The room did not look like the word comfort, and these men did not look like family, save Donovan, but the word home suggested he should feel that way.

“Home?” He asked softly, scratching at his left earlobe where his fingertips brushed against cold metal. He looked at Donovan and tilted his head to the side, silently asking about the meaning of this situation, just like he had from inside the containment pod. Donovan's face softened into something pained.

Lex turned towards the scientist nearest to the set of stairs, and he ordered, “Get it a towel.”

Donovan's expression hardened then, spinning back to Lex. The clone barely heard the man murmur: "He is a person, Lex. You can call him-" before the word 'towel' occupied his mind with a sparked image involving a striped beach towel lying in the sand. This was a picture that seemed innocent enough, unlike his own memory of the tube, and he waited with forced patience as the men scattered anxiously to fetch one.

Apprehensively, one man approached the clone with a blue towel, one that looked similar to his own formulated image, and he draped it around the clone’s shoulders. The child sucked in an angry breath through clinched teeth as the scratching fabric harassed his skin, and he immediately despised the horrible sensation. He shrugged the towel off and frowned largely at Lex, as though the bald man created that false sense of comfort in the towel memory himself. “No,” the clone hissed, kicking the towel away from him with cautious toes as though the cloth could bite him at any moment. “I don’t like that.”

“Fair enough,” Lex watched the towel with a raised eyebrow. “I suppose you’ve only experienced the feel of the chemical fluids. You are free to remain...” Lex raised a hand and gestured to the clone, “naked. If you so choose.” For reasons he didn’t understand and due to memories he was unable to place, he suddenly became uncomfortable standing in the middle of the chilled room without clothing. Warmth and color filled his cheeks and his eyes raked across the men in the room, feeling each of their individual eyes on him, albeit nervous gazes. He glanced at Donovan once more with a furrowed brow silently asking if he had noticed that he was naked this entire time, but the man was still watching Luthor was great trepidation. “You had more questions for me?” Lex demanded, snapping the clone from his thoughts.

“Y-yes,” he stammered softly, dragging his eyes to Lex once more. “I have... things in my head that I don’t think I have ever actually seen. What is that?”

“That is simple enough. We had you preprogrammed with memories so you could speak and understand-"

“Programmed?” The clone interrupted with a lower lip quiver. “You mean I’m a... a robot?” He sounded absolutely horrified as a new picture filled his mind, a drive-in movie showing The Terminator accompanied by screeches of terror.

“It’s merely an expression,” Lex rolled his eyes. “I can attest that you are entirely organic.”

“Organic," the clone whispered, running the word across his tongue for taste. His eyes jumped back to his scientist, who was watching him now instead of Lex with an anxious expression. The man appeared to be holding his breath. "These fake memories, where are they from?”

“They aren’t fake. You’ve had a few... donors.” Lex took a step closer.

“Donors?” the clone shifted uncomfortably, clasping his hands and wringing his fingers in rotation. The basement was feeling warmer now, and he had an itch in his throat that was beginning to demand his attention. “What-What was that thing he said?” The clone asked and raised his hand to aggressively point at the scientist that led him back to the lab. “That krypt-thing... A bomb?” A burning, terrifying image accompanied that word in his mind, one seen in history books and in apocalyptic movies.

“Not a bomb,” Lex chuckled, patronizing and shaking his head. “But it is a threat. You appear to have the potential for great success; you are standing and speaking, which alone proves improvement compared to each of your predecessors. So, you are going to behave, and we won’t worry about the krypton-syringe.” He enunciated the final two words with slow purpose, simultaneously teaching the clone the words and insuring they remain fresh as a threat in the kid's mind.

The clone ground his teeth together, wanting to shout with anger at the invisible threat, and cower all at once at the possibilities. But instead of choosing one, he inhaled deeply, breath trembling slightly at the end, before holding it for several seconds and releasing it again while asking, “Lex. What is my name?”

“You are just a clone; you do not have a name. You are the thirteenth experiment performed in this particular project.”

“Thirteenth?” A colorful number line ran across his mind, fluttering like a ribbon at the ends, one seen in a child's classroom. Twelve whole numbers came before thirteen and the clone looked around the room with new eyes given this information. There were gruesome-appearing bodies in the other tubes, pressed against the glass in gnarly positions and looking very different than the men around him. “Others?”

“Unsuccessful. You are Experiment 13, and our first success. Though if you act in obedience and ask politely, I am sure I can come up with some better-fitting nomenclature for you.”

Politely, the clone nodded slowly in understanding as he considered the word. He knew how to ask politely; he had several memories acting as demonstration. “Please, can you give me a name?”

“Not yet,” Lex snapped sharply. “You have behaved extremely poorly thus far. You escaped your pod and tried to run away, which is very bad. You refused to follow simple directions when told to come down here and get back to your own containment, and don't think I already forgot about your mess in my office. Most astonishingly, you have abused a human being," Lex held a hand out toward the scientist the clone had thrown and hit, still on the ground and bleeding. The clone followed the gesture and swallowed hard at the sight of drying blood. "You think you deserve a name right now? You don't even deserve to be standing." He took another large step, bringing him right to the top of the stairs. He slowly descended, while his gaze remained burning through the clone. "Not only that, but you interrupted something very important upstairs, a misdemeanor for which you still haven't apologized." The clone's mouth hung open in surprise, but he was unable to make a sound, and Lex continued in a voice growing louder and more aggressive with each word spat out, "And you stand here now with the audacity to demand answers from me? To ask me for a name?" The clone's eyes burned and blurred over with unshed tears. He looked at Donovan with wide eyes begging for relief.

Donovan appeared as distressed as the clone felt, and he stepped forward quickly from his place abandoned by the elevator. "Lex, I think the kid understands now. It was just an accident; he is confused and you know he doesn't understand his powers-"

Lex stopped directly in front of the clone, grabbed his chin harshly between his thumb and forefinger, and dragged the young face closer to him as he bent down to meet him. The younger staggered forward at the tug, an action efficiently demanding his absolute attention as well as silencing Donovan. The rock placed in the man's pocket radiated uncomfortably, and his gaze seemed to burn right through his body, all of the way to the other side. "Do you understand now?" He asked slowly, grip tightening further.

He felt petrified and his shaking body begged him to nod silently, agree that he understood, and maybe even apologize. But there was another part in there, a rebellious instinct that believed this match could be fun if he made it worse. And somehow, against everything he wished for and punishments be damned, that part won in the end. He rolled his eyes and frowned distinctly at the man. "I understand that you need to get a grip, old man."

He wasn't even sure what that meant, to get a grip. But he did know Luthor needed to get just that, and soon preferably. Even with his heartbeat pounding in his ears, he managed to hear Donovan's disappointed groan from across the room, as well as the nervous scuttles from the other scientists surrounding the pair.

Lex exhaled dangerously, gripping tight enough to leave an obvious red mark on the child's face, before growling and pushing him away with a forceful shove. "How disappointing..." the man muttered, stepping around the clone and removing the green rock from his pocket. The clone rubbed at his jaw with feigned disinterest, but his features were scrunched in trepidation as his eyes remained glued warily to that stone. Without sparing a glance at the child, but obviously aware of the suffering stress radiating from him, Lex stepped up to one of the tables, fumbled through a cracked drawer for several seconds, and turned back to present him with a necklace contrived of thick string wrapped around the green rock. The clone understood his intentions immediately, but he was frozen in place and helpless against the man who approached with pain akin to fire in his hands. Lex stepped behind him, reaching over his head, and lowering the stone toward his chest to wrap the string firmly in the back. When the green rock landed against his bare skin, the clone cried out and tried to jump back away from it, only to crash against Lex's front. Luthor wrapped a fist around both pieces of string and gripped the clone's chin again with his other hand, which he slowly tilted back to deliver a powerful glare, diminishing all squirming.

By the time Luthor stepped away, the clone was sobbing and clawing at his neck, desperate to rip the necklace off but too weak to actually achieve the goal that would have seemed so simple when he was flying around the lab less than an hour ago. He dropped to his knees and screamed while Luthor sat on the desk and watched. Donovan spoke up, his words loud and quick, but the clone missed them entirely. Time seemed to pause for an eternity as he dropped down onto his stomach and tugged at his own hair to feel the aching pull on his scalp. More shouts rang through the room, but whether they were from Donovan or Luthor, or even the other scientists, the clone couldn't determine. He thought of the man with the blood-crusted lip, and he wondered if he deserved this.

As he was begging for relief of the deep sleep that was promised with crawling back into his containment tube, the agony suddenly lessened until it was only an irritated hum behind his ears. His vision cleared from bleary white and he saw Lex standing over him, placing the green rock back into a small black box and placing it securely in his pocket. He continued to wheeze as he caught his breath, and the man waited patiently for the sound to diminish before he crouched down and spoke.

"Are you finished acting like a brat?" He spoke each word slowly, but the clone still had a difficult time concentrating on the question. Once the meaning clicked, he nodded hurriedly and sniffed pathetically. But that was not enough. "You say, 'Yes Sir' to me."

"Yes Sir," he mimicked in a croaky voice, and Lex yanked him up to his feet with a hand placed underneath his arm pit. The clone took a moment to glance shyly at the other occupants in the room. The scientists all appeared wildly uncomfortable in what they had witnessed, most of them staring down at their own feet. Donovan had moved almost directly to his side during the agonizing torture, and he stood watching the clone wide-eyed and breathless.

"Alright, Experiment Thirteen." The clone grimaced at his new name, but thought it safest to remain silent. "You and I have had quite the rough start. In light of your incredible lapse in judgement, however, I have decided to forgive you." The man faced him and lifted an eyebrow, and the clone's breathing quickened under the scrutenizing look. His cheeks were painted red from the chastising and his gaze fell with shame. When he failed to respond to Luthor's satisfaction, the man prompted him with a, "Say 'thank you.'"

Experiment Thirteen furrowed his forehead and let out an annoyed huff, something even he knew to be both brave and stupid in light of his recent punishment. But he murmured with attitude, "Thank you."

“Hmm," Lex narrowed his gaze dangerously. "That needs some work. Okay, Thirteen. You will go back into your tube now so you can continue developing. I can give you a name after if you follow my orders. Act right like you said you would, and our relationship will be... good as new.”

The clone took a wary step back, glancing at the tube door still hung ajar. “Developing?” This was a word that sprung to life images in his head of a neonatal hospital, and then a room filled with babies wrapped in blankets and lying in plastic tubes. He noticed those finished people were helpless and they couldn't even walk. Not only was Thirteen standing and walking tall, but he was strong too. He looked back at the scientist that he had thrown across the room only moments before, now standing and leaning heavily on a desk. “I already completed that.”

Lex took a menacing step closer and the clone mustered all of the courage he could manage and refused to step back cowering under the glare. “No. You have somehow managed to escape, and much too early. You still look like a child.” The man was sneering and the clone crossed his arms defensively over his chest. “And you act like one.” The clone rolled his eyes, but paired it with a step back, just in case. “You cannot be expected to act as Superman like this.”

This caught his entire attention. Brilliant flashes of imagery filled his mind, ones of an unbelievable alien living among the humans, clad in blue and red and a magnificent cape. The symbol of hope for so many was presented proudly on his chest. His dark hair against his forehead and bright blue eyes shining with joy. His smile. The clone looked down at his own chest, where the ache from the rock was still present under his skin. He asked with soft, near-stupor, “I am Superman?”

Lex snorted. “Hardly. The alien was kind enough to donate his DNA, unbeknownst of course, but still kind of him."

"Superman is my... parent?" He asked, brows furrowed. He understood the mechanics of DNA donation from parent to child. "But I thought-" his eyes raked over to Donovan, who startled momentarily before his facial expressions softened with a small smile. He nodded quickly, hoping to provide comfort for the child who believed Donovan, the one to show him kindness and provide him with promises, was his parent. He hoped the clone would understand that this could all be explained as soon as they had the opportunity to speak to one another.

Lex did not see this exchange, and he took another step toward Thirteen. "That is true enough. But you still need more time in the oven. You are like a vase that came out before your makings could harden. You are far too soft.” Lex lifted his chin and narrowed his eyes at the clone with authoritative demanding. "So, are you going to behave and willingly step back in there now? We will have everything you need waiting for you when you wake up again. Food, softer clothing, a bed... a name."

Thirteen raised his eyebrows with interest, because the offer was tempting. He even rolled his head toward the tube and considered stepping back into it without resistance. The liquid in which he was enveloped had felt comforting in a way. It felt good against his legs and face. And he remembered that Lex had called this place his home. He closed his eyes and shuffled through borrowed memories of home until he recognized the consistent presence of a family. He opened his eyes and looked back at Donovan with a pleading light behind his pupils.

Luthor refrained just barely from rolling his eyes at the slow pace. “You may ask one more question,” he granted as he crossed his arms.

The clone looked at him again and pondered this as he wiggled his toes beneath him. Finally and with bashfulness, he asked, “Is Superman my family?”

Lex wrinkled his nose at the question and raised an eyebrow. “Thirteen, you are just a clone. You do not have family.” He examined the child's look of pure pain and despair, and he continued in a raised voice. "Enough of this small talk. if you just do as I say, you won’t have this confusion next time you wake up.” He held a hand out toward a stool and demanded the clone sit down for a quick physical before he be put under again. He followed these orders and found immense relief when Luthor and the other scientists stepped away from him, and Donovan stepped forward.

The man stood directly in front of him and peered at him carefully over his thin-rimmed glasses. The clone watched him silently in return, waiting. Finally, Donovan whispered, "I thought I told you to leave that feeding tube alone." His tone was playful and he nodded his head toward the child's abdomen, where the wound was already healing. The clone tried to frown at him, but after a beat, it morphed into a small smile with a residual scrunched nose. Luthor and the others were still present in the room, now standing further away and readying the enclosure, but close enough for discomfort, and he felt unable to really talk to Donovan.

Unable to use his words, the clone glanced around quickly to make sure nobody was watching, and then he raised his hand with his palm facing Donovan. The man looked surprised and confused, but clarity reached his eyes and he lifted his own hand to mirror the younger's. Their position together was similar to that one before, when they had been separated by a sheet of glass. But now, their palms touched and warmth spread up the clone's arm, making him smile wider. "You're resilient," Donovan murmured, and pride blossomed in Thirteen's chest. They remained like this for several seconds, both of them feeling the warmth of the clone's blanket between them. But the moment ended as another scientist approached the pair with a new breathing tube, and the clone's hand dropped with the onset of heavy dread as he eyed the thick plastic. His tongue brushed against the roof of his mouth and he felt the agitated scrape with a wince.

Luthor returned to his side and Donovan stepped away to quickly fetch a replacement feeding tube. Lex leveled the clone with an expectant look, and he lowered his gaze anxiously. Experiment Thirteen sighed and tried to silently convince himself that it wouldn't be so bad to go back in that tube. He was going to sleep again, and that darkness had felt so much better than everything that had happened to him since waking up and escaping-

Except for flying.

Lex stepped back again as Donovan returned with a thin tube so similar to the one Thirteen remembered painstakingly pulling out of his belly. The images of home returned as he tried to convince himself of optimism, but he flinched unhappily to remember that they weren't even his own memories. The other scientist readied a roll of tape, seemingly preparing to shove the breathing tube down the clone's throat while he was still awake. Probably a healthy taste of pay back, Thirteen thought with a shudder, and Donovan placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. The gesture made him think parent, and his mind flickered to Superman.

Even if he was a clone, as Lex reminded him ruthlessly at every opportunity he found, Superman was still his DNA donor, and therefore, he was still his parent. The possibilities seemed endless; he could grow up in a home away from Luthor, he could attend school, he could have a family... he could fly with his parent.

“Superman,” Thirteen whispered, and Donovan gave him a questioning look as Lex hurriedly shoved his hand back in his pocket, reaching for the painful green stone. But this time, the clone was ready, and he utilized those precious few seconds to hop up from the stool and run. He quickly found that he was fast. He zipped across the room to the elevator doors and, with the assist of the warmth in his chest that was present and shining now with hope, he pulled the door open without bothering to press the call button. He poked his head through the opening to find the shaft was vacant. The elevator car was several stories up after assisting someone else in their journey to a floor far above the laboratory level. Without much thought, he leapt into the shaft and yelped with glee when his feet remained in the air.

With a wide smile spread on his face, he rejoiced in that freedom and flew up through the dark elevator shaft, accompanied by the chorus of angry shouts below him. He reached the bottom of the car and tore his fist through the thick metal. His hand blossomed with pain, but it felt good to him because it meant he was still escaping. He shot through the elevator's ceiling, and he continued up the shaft until he reached the very top. Opening these doors was just as easy, and he stepped back into that same hallway as earlier. This time he was alone, and he relished fully in the feeling of the soft couch pressed against his skin and the fabric of the rug underneath his toes, and he loved it. By the time he reached the large window, that same blaring alarm sounded from the hallway, piercing his eardrums with a screeching warning. Red lights flashed and the rumbling sounds vibrated through his chest, but he did not care. He could hear the sounds of panicked shouts and shuffling feet from the floors beneath him, and he took one last glance around the office in which he first met Lex Luthor. The sun had sank a few inches in the sky, casting long shadows on the objects in the room. Thirteen waltzed around the room until his eyes landed on a thin folder resting on the large wooden desk that he caused to shake before. This particular item caught his interest because printed on the front of the cream-colored covering was 'Experiment Thirteen.' He wrapped a fist around the folder just as he heard the elevator door chime from down the hall.

"Thirteen!" Lex's voice traveled to the office with ease, and the sheer acrimony in the word made the clone jump as goosebumps were created on his skin. His toes lifted from the ground once more, and he flew back to the large window. The pounding footsteps were quickly approaching and he hesitated for the briefest moment before he pushed through the glass window with his blanket as much as his hands, shattering the glimmering pieces around him, but remaining suspended in air and level with Lex, who met the window breathless and reaching out to him.

Thirteen spared a glance before holding the stolen folder to his chest and flying away from the building. The sound of Lex's screeching curse was the only follower.

The clone wanted food, blankets, and a pillow. And he wanted Superman. But he was unsure how to find any of these in the vast world around him. Alongside the image of a children's book titled Big Max that was decorated with a man wearing a poncho and wielding a magnifying glass, Thirteen realized he needed a detective. He looked beneath him at the traffic-cluttered road and the bustling people still present in the evening sun, and he pulled himself through the air with slow movements. The building in which Luthor kept him had slowly disappeared beneath the horizon by the time he finally looked back, and he could not help but to grin. He was free.

Chapter Text

The sun was kissing the horizon when the clone believed he was far enough from the laboratory to study his stolen folder peacefully. He sat in the sky with his spine erect and legs crossed in front of him resembling a pretzel, finally still for the first time since escaping, and hidden high above the earth between the thick strips of cloud. The file was sprawled out in his lap, open to the first bound page and held firmly in place between his forearms and thighs. The sky was quickly becoming dusky pink and threatening to deplete him of reading light, but the space was so vast and the air, though thinner at that elevation, felt too clean for him to stress over that.

“Day 1: Project Cadmus trial 13 has officially commenced,” he read the first paragraph aloud to himself in a murmured voice. “Alien DNA* and human DNA* combined in an unstable environment with elevated temperature, utilizing restriction enzymes and DNA ligase (additional details referencing the reconstruction of subject DNA can be found in lab manual 4 from April: pages 29-83). Combination was successful and bacterial growth has commenced in stable environment with slightly elevated temperature ensuring rapid binary fission. Bacterial culture spreading appropriately within 2 hours, and gene analysis is complete (Analysis in full detail can be found in lab manual 5 from May: pages 3-21).”

“Wow, Luthor... I don’t know how you manage to do it, but you’re even more of a buzzkill on paper than in real life,” the clone scoffed, though his cheeks warmed with embarrassment as the printed words provided a lot of overwhelming information. His shoulders deflated with the added inconvenience that he no longer had access to the laboratory, and therefore the previous lab manuals mentioned. In his frustration, he nearly missed the two asterisks toward the beginning of the report. He pointed to the first small star, printed after ‘Alien DNA,’ and he traced his finger down the page until he found a small key area at the bottom. The first footnote read: Alien DNA extracted from Kryptonian Kal-El/Superman (civilian title: Clark Kent).

“Kal-El...” he whispered and wore a small smile at the sound of his father’s name. “Kal. El.”

He lowered his gaze to the next asterisk and read, “Human DNA donated by-" and his brow furrowed heavily as the rest of the information was hidden beneath a large black strip of ink. Scribbled above it in red ink was printed: ‘information redacted.’

“Why,” he hissed in a raised voice to the memory of the man alone, “would you redact information in your own study?” But he received no answer and he was forced to continue on his own. He came across several paragraphs of data that he did not understand, information diving into advanced genetics far beyond his own knowledge. But he took a deep breath and skimmed through until he reached the end of the second page.

“Day 5,” he continued. “Implanted memories via stimulation of the hippocampus, neocortex, and amygdala commenced. Development of lungs and GI tract noticed; breathing tube and feeding tube placed without difficulty. In unconscious/disadvantaged state, the subject’s skin was penetrable, though advanced recovery timing was noted. At this point, the subject’s biological age is reported estimate of fifteen or sixteen years of age...” He paused to consider this; though the exact number was blurry, he finally had a piece of identification. “and the programmed memories are current to the biological age. Day 6: basil ganglia and cerebellum stimulation successful with positive reaction to EMR... muscle development is established and progressing. Brain development requires further testing upon waking; though unconscious delta waves are appropriate in form and frequency. Study will be awoken in 24 hours for examination of alpha and beta waves.”

The clone rolled his eyes and huffed a humorless chuckle. “Looks like I beat you to it, Lex.” He flipped to the next page and found an extra note scribbled in obvious haste as it was messier than the previous lines. “Day 6 continued: Study woke without outside interference and escaped confinement. Used elevator without instruction, used full sentences in question form with proper grammar appropriate to biological age. Presented with flight unprompted and signs of telekinesis with elevated emotion. High anxiety in energy = movement of wooden desk, desk items (i.e. pencils, Post-It notes, loose papers), and electricity manipulation (lamp bulbs flickering). TK Evaluation will be completed after further information and stabilized control. Subject is sensitive to kryptonite. Will utilize anesthetic and intubation until age appropriate.”

“Wrong again,” he snickered. His eyes lingered on the word 'kryptonite,' a word which he assumed to refer to the painful green stone, before reading the final sentence.

“Estimating tomorrow to begin permanent thought and action manipulation.”

He frowned. The information through which he had just read was overwhelming and too vast to interpret. So he tried to focus on the pieces he understood: he already knew he was a clone made from Superman’s alien DNA, a species name that looked similar to that of the green rock and the threatening syringe; he definitely still remembered that he was created in a test tube; he was derived of human DNA as well, though he did not know whose. He didn’t understand why reading this report tugged at his chest and made him feel melancholic. He wished for some semblance of happiness and childhood, the second of which he feared was lost forever. And then-

“Permanent thought and action manipulation.” His skin was lined with goosebumps, chilling him in the cool air and encouraging him to wrap an arm around his torso for warmth, and protection. “What the hell does that mean?”

But it was a phrase he already understood, even if he wanted to pretend he didn’t.

“Mind control...” he whispered, and his eyes glossed over alongside the appearance of tears. “But Donovan-"

He stopped. Nobody could hear his pleading up in the clouds, not Lex or Donovan, or even Kal-El. It didn’t matter that he would have been forced to relinquish all control of his mind and body if he followed Lex’s orders, and it didn’t matter that Donovan was going to allow it to happen. His hurt feelings didn’t change the fact that he had escaped from the lab, and he needed to find his father for answers at the very least. He sniffed and wiped a forearm across his eyes, hardly surprised when it came back wet. The clone closed the folder, uncrossed his legs so they hung underneath him, and began to move again, flying weightless in the same random direction he chose upon escaping but feeling heavy in somberness.

Thirteen was lost in his thoughts, clenching the folder in one fist and pouting angrily, when he heard a high-pitched screech travel from the ground below him. The sound echoed through the city alleyways and jumped across the buildings before it reached him, but he recognized the sheer panic in the voice, and he needed to help. His eyes snapped toward the sound, and he gasped when another shrill cry reached his ears. He descended past the clouds and bolted toward to plea, just in time to see a fast-moving blur below him but several buildings away. He almost considered snatching the runner for questioning, but what gave him pause was that the shadow was moving toward the yelp, jumping across the rooftops with impressive ease, instead of running away. And what bad guy would run toward the cry for help, he wondered.

He made a brief stop on the first rooftop he passed to deposit his folder safely, tucking it in between an air-conditioning unit and the large door leading into the building. Despite the mysterious shadow’s intentions, the clone reached the scene first, finding a brunette clad in purple joggers clutching her purse tightly in front of her chest.

“Just give me your damn money now-“ a large burly man, whose features were entirely hidden by a ski mask with two uneven holes cut out for the eyes, shouted as he advanced toward her. She let out another cry.

“Back off of her, ya big cow!” The clone demanded, pointer finger raised high and accusatory. The burly man and the woman both startled, spinning around and falling silent at the sight of the naked kid suddenly standing in the alley that they knew to be empty just prior.

“What the fu-?” The man began, but Thirteen jumped forward with a battle cry and he slammed his palm against the man’s cloth-clad face. The man flew several feet before he collided with the brick side of the building, falling to the stone and mumbling incoherently before officially losing consciousness with a loud snore.

“Whoops,” the clone whispered. After throwing the scientist and cracking a facial bone, he knew he should try to be more gentle. But this man was hateful, and he was far too demanding. He reminded Thirteen of-

“So, where’s your bat?” He turned to find the woman’s gaze jumping from his bare chest to his face and back again. “Aren’t you with them? And hey, what’s this stuff all over your skin?” She reached toward him with a hesitant pinky finger, stopping just a half inch above his skin before pulling back. He had no idea what to say to this so he frowned and shook his head while she continued to examine the dried gel that coated him. “Doesn’t matter anyway, you saved my life just now, thank you!” She must have deemed the gel harmless because she wrapped an arm around his shoulder and pulled him close to her for a side hug. He was surprised at the foreign contact and sudden movement, waiting with wide eyes as she pulled out her cell phone. She held the phone out in front of them with the camera and screen both facing the pair and showing their images. Thirteen's eyebrows shot up with a small gasp as this was the very first time he saw his own face. She snapped a picture, completely unaware of his dilemma, and she said, “This’ll be all over Insta before morning. New hero in Gotham, and finally not a damn spooky bat. Sticky or not, everyone will flip!”

He tried to smile, but even without the phone still held in front of him, he knew his mouth just looked like a wobbly ‘s.’ His hair was black in color and still pushed back with the dried gel, which glistened across his entire body. With the shock of finally seeing himself, he did not retain any other details before the camera was closed and the woman pulled the device back to her own face.

She moved directly in front of him, wiping her hand on her pants as she did, and took a picture of the clone standing solo. After the bright flash remnants disappeared from their sight, he took a wary step back from her. He didn’t think he wanted his picture on ‘Insta,’ and he definitely didn’t want Lex to find it. “Don’t worry, it’s just neck up.” She insisted when she saw his movement, turning her phone toward him and showing him the photo. He was curious, but before he could further examine himself in the new picture, she pulled it back again. He didn’t have time to explain that his neck wasn’t the issue with the photo before she continued, “It’s just so people know to watch out for you. What’s your name?”

He blanked.

He didn't know his name. He couldn’t tell her that he didn’t have one, that sounded so sad, highly suspicious, and it was too honest. He didn’t like ‘Experiment Thirteen’ because that was used when Lex was being hurtful-and most importantly, it was hurtful. He thought once more of his father, Kal-El. “Uhm... Superman. I am Superman.”

She snickered and shook her head, pushing her phone into her purse. “Honey, you’re a bit short for that name, right?” His jaw dropped. “More like... Superboy.”

He hated it.

“Thanks, Superboy!” She waved and turned to leave. “Maybe find some clothes, too. It’s hard to look intimidating without your underwear.” And then she left, the sound of her heels against the cold concrete remaining in the quiet air several seconds after she disappeared around the corner of the building.

“You’re welcome,” he scoffed in a low voice. He hated that name. Lex said he was supposed to act like Superman, and Donovan said he was going to save the world some day. Superboy sounded like a kid, and that sounded like every insult Lex had hurled at him. Spoiled, tantrum, brat. He did not want to be known as Superboy.

The clone heard a slight scuff against the building next to him and his gaze snapped up to see someone sitting on the ladder rung above him, just outside the building’s second story window. He wore a black domino mask covering his eyes and a bright-colored shirt beneath a black cape that fell around him like a waterfall. A bo staff hung loosely in his hands, shorter than typical as it was half retracted. His bangs fell over his forehead, long enough to threaten covering the top of his eye lenses, and he was frowning.

“Uhh, B?” He spoke in a soft voice to nobody in sight. “There’s someone down here doing our job.” His frown deepened and his head tilted to the side, his right ear nearly reaching the adjacent shoulder. “And he’s naked.”

Thirteen’s ears pinkened with embarrassment, but he crossed his arms defensively over his chest and puffed his cheeks out with an annoyed huff. “Maybe if you did your job a bit faster, I wouldn’t have to come down here and do it for you.”

The kid straightened up and smirked, jumping down from the ledge to land softly in front of Thirteen, catching himself once on the fire escape's platform to lessen the fall. It was impressive but irked him to know that if he hadn’t been watching his company, he probably wouldn’t have heard the shoes hit the pavement at all. The clone watched him apprehensively but kept his chin pointed high in the sky with defiance just in case he was going to be as frustrating as the woman was, or even worse.

“You think we are too slow?” The other teased lightly, spinning the bo staff above his head with ease and approaching the clone.

“We?” Thirteen asked with a shifting gaze, and he took a full step back from the kid. He felt a heavy presence from behind just as a dark shadow fell over him. He spun around and found himself looking up at a man mostly hidden in the depths of the alley, strategically avoiding the pathetically dimmed light provided by the street lamp on the far side of the road. The man was at least a full foot taller than Thirteen; his appearance further menacing as he wore a cowl protecting both his identity and intentions in his gaze, decorated with two pointed spikes on top of his head. He was dressed in all black, and the only part of the person visible to the clone was his mouth; he was frowning. Thirteen stiffened quickly, feeling uneasy in the presence of this man so similar in height alone to those that tried to keep him in the laboratory. He felt confident enough that he could take on the short kid in a fight, but he feared the two of them could cause him a great deal of problems. He planted his legs firmly, gritting his teeth and holding his breath in anticipation.

"We," the kid with the staff repeated with a wider grin, startling Thirteen as he had moved even closer without the clone having heard. Thirteen moved now and positioned himself so he no longer stood between the two, but he faced them instead. The large man stepped forward, out of the shadow, and the clone saw the dark bat he wore across his chest. He wondered if this was the person the woman was talking about earlier, someone who was implied to be a hero, but a spooky one. Thirteen definitely felt that the shoe fit.

“You need to back off, old man,” Thirteen hissed, and for the first time in several hours, the warmth in his chest radiated angrily, pushing at the objects surrounding him in the alley. Broken glass bottles rolled around on the concrete, an overfilled dumpster shook on its legs, and abandoned crates rattled angrily. This didn't seem to phase the pair at all as they watched him curiously, falling into their own defensive stances. "You both need to leave me alone."

And then the world around him became red. The shadows fell into a deep maroon, the puddles beneath his feet turned to resemble thick blood, and the ladder rungs that originally hosted the kid with the staff shone bright red in the moonlight. As the earth became red, he noticed the man’s jaw unclench just a fraction in something akin to surprise. The kid was less of a prude in the showing of his reactions as his mouth fell wide open.

“B, doesn’t he sort of remind you of-?” he murmured with awe.

“Yes,” the man, B, interjected before Thirteen found out whom he reminded the pair of. He feared the answer resembled ‘Luthor’s home-grown clone,’ and Thirteen did not plan on returning to that test tube so soon after his departure.

“I said back off,” Thirteen shouted, and the warmth in his chest grew to a licking fire. Screws in the fire escape screeched as they were pulled from the metal, and windows shook threatening in their frames. The kid held his hands up in a gesture suggesting surrender, and B moved to stand in front of him, shielding him from the clone. Thirteen thought that was a little bizarre because they were obviously the ones threatening him with their cryptic communication. “I am not going back there.”

“You need to remain calm-” the man began. Now hearing the man speak most of a sentence, Thirteen was surprised at the low gravel in his voice, a sound that only added to his terror.

“You’re not going back where?” The young one interrupted and asked with genuine curiosity, peeking his head around the man's cloaked, bulky figure to look at Thirteen.

But B quickly held up a shushing hand and whispered, “Not yet, Robin" as he pushed the kid back behind him.

Thirteen watched the pair interact wordlessly as B watched him in return, everyone suffocating in the feeling of thick anxiety. The clone listened to the three sets of rapid heartbeats in the alley, the fastest being his own and Robin’s, but even the dark-coated man’s skipped occasionally in the silence. Listening to the wet thunks hidden behind their chests helped settle the clone’s mind and the dark blacks and shadowed greys returned to his eyesight, replacing the maroons alongside a lessening of the fire within his chest.

The clone didn’t understand how B knew the exact moment normal color returned to his sight, but just as it did, the man visibly relaxed and asked him, “What are you doing here?”

“It’s none of your business,” Thirteen hissed, raising his fists and crouching low for a fight, mimicking a boxer on television from a foreign memory. Robin poked a tilted head out from behind B again and watched the clone. “I’m looking for a detective.”

“Your feet should be further apart for that stance. And you are looking for a detective?” Robin snickered behind a gloved hand. “Boy, aren’t you in luck.”

“Do you need help? You said you aren't going back, was someone hurting you?” B asked, taking a step forward with his hands held up to prove he was not threatening. In return, Thirteen stepped back and released a frustrated groan as he found himself nearing the bricked dead end of the alley. He wanted to leave, but he feared he would not be able to kick off the ground and fly faster than the duo could catch him.

“That’s close enough,” the clone warned again, and his vision became a vivid crimson once more. B stepped back carefully, reaching out blindly in an attempt to usher Robin back too.

But the kid remained planted with his nose scrunched. “B, he looks like Superman,” he finally whispered, and Thirteen's heart stuttered. His shoulders deflated with relief, though he admitted he didn’t realize they were raised with tension in the first place, and the crimson dissipated. Batman barely nodded, and the pair silently studied one another, seemingly having some unspoken communication. Experiment Thirteen didn’t appreciate the silent conversations that almost definitely revolved around his being, but he couldn’t deny his excitement at the mention of Superman.

“Do you know Superman?” His tone had softened in his urgency and hope, and he saw as much as he felt the relief in the pair that turned back to him.

“Do you need help from Superman?” Robin questioned. “Batman and I are also heroes, we can help you too.”

The clone frowned. Now B was Batman, and the two were trying to overstep a simple offer of information. “I’m only looking for Superman. Is he here in this town?”

“No. But we know where he will be.” And with that, B silently unclipped his cape and held it out toward Thirteen. “We can take you to him, if you tell me why you need him. I am sure you can understand, we want to make sure you are not a threat before we deliver you to him,” he added when he saw the clone frown.

Thirteen did understand the logic and he hoped for the same favor in return some day. He accepted the cape with a muttered appreciation, and he reluctantly informed him, "Superman is my family. I need to find him." Batman nodded slowly and stated that he could believe it, though Thirteen wasn't sure what that was in reference to. He tied the long fabric around his waist and followed the pair through the alley.

“So, why are you naked?” Robin asked him with a barely-contained snicker. Thirteen’s cheeks flushed again and his mouth became dry. In the excitement of his escape, he forgot to grab a towel, and that could hardly be held against him.

“Robin, that’s enough,” Batman chastised and icy fear spread down Thirteen’s spine as he waited. Waited for the disappointment and screaming and the threatening green syringe that meant death. But Robin’s bouncing pace remained high in energy and enthusiasm as his excitement refused to diminish.

“You havta’ admit, B, that it is sorta odd though.”

“Maybe he doesn’t want to talk about it.” Batman turned his head to peer at Robin, the smallest hint of a smile on his lips. Thirteen relaxed. “Did you ever think about that?”

Robin grinned back at him and began twirling his staff above his head as they approached the ladder near the alleyway entry.

“Can you fly?” Batman asked Thirteen, and the clone couldn’t help his own smirk as he reported that he could. Robin’s smile widened with excitement at the answer and Thirteen’s chest bloomed with pride. “Good to know. Follow me.” The clone opened his mouth to ask about the man still unconscious by the wall, and as though reading his mind, Batman stated, "Don't worry. Police are on their way, and he isn't going anywhere."

And before Thirteen could really consider the proposition to follow the spooky stranger and his child that smiled, Batman and Robin had disappeared, already approaching the rooftop above them with the aid of a grappling hook. Thirteen’s toes lifted from the wet gravel now with ease, and he ascended to meet the pair.

Robin waited for him by the roof's edge, but Batman was already moving fluidly toward the neighboring rooftop, a motion that was surprisingly silent considering his suit. “Race me?” Robin taunted while he bounced on his toes, and Thirteen couldn’t ignore the feeling of his stomach twisting. It wasn’t unpleasant, but he didn’t understand why that was happening. He had never raced with someone before, but he knew he could fly pretty fast and had a decent chance of winning.

“Race you?” Thirteen repeated incredulously, but his jaw was relaxed and he even wore a hint of a smile. “That wouldn’t be fair, I don’t know where the finish is.”

Robin shoved at the clone’s shoulder gently, having to reach up to do it. Thirteen didn’t budge. Robin chortled, “Well of course I am going to tell you. There’s a black car parked in an alley, that is the finish. Go four blocks down this street here, take a right, then go through three street lights, the broken one doesn’t count, and then after that you will take a left, go down for five blocks and then turn left again just after the run down pizzeria. It looks crummy on the outside, but the food is a godsend. Loser buys winner pizza.” Thirteen rolled his eyes and so Robin felt inclined to continue. “Hope you brought your wallet.”

“Where would I have kept a wallet-?”

“On your mark..." Robin counted, "Get set...”

Thirteen realized then that Batman was entirely out of his sight; he had no idea where the man was now.

“Go,” Robin smirked and didn’t move as Thirteen’s feet lifted from the roof. The clone began to fly toward the direction of this mysterious car, wondering now whether or not this was even a good idea. Before he reached the edge of the roof, opposite the one he came up upon, he looked back over his shoulder expecting to see Robin waving at him from the start, wearing a shit-eating grin and twirling his bo staff. But instead, the roof was empty and Thirteen couldn’t help the gasp that escaped his lips. So the race was on.

Thirteen pursed his lips tight and in the clarity that silence provided, he remembered his stashed file on the neighboring roof. He flew to it, gripped the papers in a protecting fist, and then moved in the direction of the black vehicle. Thirteen quickly found that he had an excellent memory, being able to recite word for word what the kid had rattled off to him, and he moved quickly in that direction, counting the blocks and feeling a rush of excitement when he spotted the broken street light. The wind whispered across his cheeks and his ears rang with the sounds of distant sirens, but flying again felt good. The streets were much quieter now than they had been in the daylight when he escaped the lab. He saw the occasional person rushing to their vehicle, or catching a late bus, but he was mostly met with comfortable silence. He spotted the blinking neon pizza sign, lit harsh visions of yellow and red in the dark night, and he prepared to swoop down before he picked up the sound of a familiar gravely voice.

“What do you mean you left him on the roof? You said you would make sure he was right with you.”

Thirteen’s jaw dropped as he realized not only did he lose the competition, but he came in last place.

“We had a race.”

“And?”

“And I won.”

Batman sighed with frustration. “Robin, what if he doesn’t come here?” The man snapped and the clone stopped short at the roof, heart pounding in his chest as though waiting for the aching pain that accompanied Luthor’s shouting and mysterious green rock. His bare toes landed on the cement again, and he scuffed his feet toward the edge to listen easier.

“He will come here. I gave him the directions, and also we are having fun!”

Thirteen's cheeks warmed when he heard the unbridled joy, and he realized he was having fun. It didn’t matter that it was cold and dark outside and that he had a grumpy man’s cape tied around his waist. It didn’t even matter that he lost the competition. The longing for Superman had waned slightly in the presence of Robin, and so Thirteen stepped off the roof and eased himself downward toward the voices. As he did, he saw Batman ruffling Robin’s hair, and Robin threw the man’s arm away with two hands. Even from the height he had on the pair, he could see they weren’t fighting.

Robin’s chin tilted up as he neared, and he grinned widely to see Thirteen’s descent. "Told you so," he hissed to Batman before facing Thirteen to snicker, "It’s 4.50 a slice.” Batman shook his head with a small sigh as he discovered the race wages. “Five dollars even if you add a soda, and I definitely want a soda.”

“Soda wasn’t part of the deal,” Thirteen snapped back, but he was smiling too. Their banter was different than his and Luthor’s before he left. This banter was... also playing, he decided with relief.

“But you cannot have pizza without soda!” Robin threw his hands in the air dramatically, shouting with emotion as though Thirteen had offended his entire family. “Everybody knows that!”

“Food later, come on,” Batman ordered, and he opened the front door of the black vehicle they stood beside. Just before climbing in, the man stopped and faced Thirteen to ask, “Unless you are hungry now?”

It was obviously an afterthought, but a nice one that made the clone feel full inside. And with that full feeling, he wondered where Donovan was, and he hoped the man was safe. He shook his head slowly and approached the car as Robin announced loudly that he was hungry. Batman told him that he should have eaten Agent A’s dinner before patrol, a name that Thirteen found interesting, and Robin's rebuttal was that he doesn’t like fish or green beans. Batman sighed and Thirteen muffled his laughter.

Thirteen had never ridden in a vehicle as himself, but the donated memories provided enough to help him buckle his seat belt and understand car door mechanics.

Despite their previous disputing, Batman silently reached under the middle console as the vehicle automatically turned out onto the main street, and his hand reappeared holding a wrapped sandwich for Robin, who snatched it with enthusiasm and sang out his appreciation. After taking a large bite and swallowing it down harshly, Robin turned around in the passenger seat to face Thirteen, and he held out the sandwich.

“Want a bite?” he asked. Thirteen looked at him quietly for a breath. Robin’s lips were wet from his own tongue and his cheeks were pink from the car heater set to full blast in front of him. The lenses of his domino mask were wide in light of his question. Batman’s head tilted slightly toward the rear view mirror, and Thirteen knew he was watching the clone from underneath the mask.

“I thought I owed you food,” the clone settled on responding, earning a chuckle from Robin who shook his head and offered the sandwich again by shoving it closer to his face. Reluctantly, Thirteen accepted the sandwich with two careful hands and a big, timid gulp.

“It’s turkey and swiss. Do you eat those?” Robin asked quickly. “It’s okay if not. Nightwing’s green friend doesn’t eat those, and we don’t judge him for that. Agent A always packs extra peanut butter crackers in the glove compartment just in case we need them. Or if you like something else, we can stop at a convenient store. They always give me a discount at Joe’s Stop down the street from here because I stopped an evil clown from murdering their daughter a couple months ago.” 

Thirteen had no idea who Nightwing or Joe were, or what the green friend referred to, but he shrugged and swallowed a bite.

“Do you know any evil clowns?” Robin asked in a whisper, leaning closer to him from the front seat.

The realization that this was the very first thing he had put in his body arrived just before the onset of screeching nausea that flooded his stomach like a tsunami. His eyes widened comically and he threw both of his hands over his mouth, dropping the sandwich to the seat next to him.

“Uh oh,” Robin mumbled, and Batman was already pulling the car over. The man smoothly exited the vehicle and opened Thirteen's door for him, just in time for the clone to unbuckle and stumble out. He dropped to his knees right beside the car, completely missing as Robin glanced at Batman with an anxious frown while he retched sadly.

“We will try food again later,” Batman stated before Thirteen could stress further on what to say. “Try this,“ he ordered softly and handed the clone a water bottle. “Very slowly.”

Thirteen took a hesitant sip, focusing on the cleansing sensation of it traveling through his mouth and down his esophagus. His stomach warned angrily and he capped the water bottle to try again later. Batman helped him stand up, and the feeling of the man's arm around his shoulders only made his eyes swell up with unwelcome tears. The very last thing he wanted to do was to cry in front of these people.

Batman helped him back into the car while Robin watched him with apprehension. The following silence was heavy and it nearly caused Thirteen to fall into another cycle of sickness, but Robin shattered the quiet to whisper, “I am sorry.”

And the mood changed. The clone knew that wasn’t on purpose, and he was the one that got sick, not Batman or Robin. The fact that someone was willingly sharing their food with him surprised him more than anything, and he shifted in his seat. Thirteen picked up the rest of the sandwich next to him and offered it back to Robin, but the kid grinned and shook his head, so he placed it on the seat once more.

They drove for several more minutes before Batman made a phone call through the vehicle. Thirteen perked up with excitement, but he quickly diminished to see they were communicating with ‘Agent A,’ as shown on the screen, and not Superman.

“A, we have a guest to deliver to the safe house near Metropolis.”

“It’s rather late for that, don’t you think?” an accented voice responded.

“It’s an emergency,” Batman corrected.

“And Robin?”

Thirteen watched Robin’s toothy grin grow tenfold as Batman stated, “I think he’s earned a sick day. He finished his homework, and his next exam isn’t until next week. And plus... he won the race.” Robin snickered as Agent A congratulated him politely through the speaker.

Batman continued speaking to A, but he suddenly switched to a language Thirteen did not recognize. He shifted through the languages he found he could understand, but the words Batman spoke were not in his vast vocabulary. His brow furrowed and his gaze traveled to Robin, who seemed completely at ease hearing the language, listening and nodding occasionally to the words, even chuckling at some parts. And then the conversation was over.

“What... what did you say to him?” Thirteen asked with growing panic. “What was that language?” He couldn't control his anxiety that their private conversing was all about him, maybe even about taking him back to Lex Luthor. He didn't know where Metropolis was, or if that was the city from which he had escaped. He wondered why he managed to put so much trust into two people that he had just met, two people that were still wearing masks around him, and he considered jumping out of the car for another escape.

“It’s Yiddish,” Robin provided easily and fumbled with the radio buttons until pop music came to life. “He just told A to be safe tonight, keep him updated on arising problems in Gotham, and that we will be back tomorrow.”

"You know this language too?" Thirteen asked him with raised eyebrows.

"Of course I do. My grandma taught me." The clone realized how silly his question had been in the first place. Obviously he would know the language if his dad spoke it too. Robin seemed truthful enough, and he relaxed once more.

Batman wordlessly turned the music down to near nothing, and Thirteen felt grateful for the peaceful ambiance that was created. He didn’t realize just how much he traveled that day until the darkness and warmth of the car suddenly felt comforting. Within the next half hour, Thirteen heard the changes in Robin’s breathing and heartbeat as the kid fell asleep. This change felt reassuring to the clone, because if Robin felt safe to sleep next to Batman, maybe he could too.

Batman's hands were on the wheel now, the car no longer making turns for him, and he had slowed down considerably since leaving the city limits. A large billboard read: ‘So long, Gotham!’ just at the outskirt, wishing them well with a featured clown smirk created in spray paint accompanied by a shaky 'HA HA HA.'

“So long, Gotham,” Thirteen read in a whispered voice, and Batman's head tilted, suggesting he was glancing back at him again through the rear view mirror.

“Good riddance,” Batman responded with a small smirk, voice diminished to avoid disturbing the occupant of his passenger seat. Thirteen thought he could be imagining this, but the man's voice didn't sound so gravelly anymore.

“Good riddance,” Thirteen breathed back, watching the man in return with large, cautious eyes long after the driver's gaze seemingly returned to the road.

The soft revving of the vehicle pacified the clone, and he finally rested his temple against the window to watch the streetlights pass until his eyelids drifted closed, and he fell asleep.

Chapter Text

Thirteen was standing in the cold, dimly lit laboratory. He was naked once again, his bare feet against the cold tile that sent chills up his spine. He tried to lift off the ground, but he couldn't move. His arms weighed down heavy, pulling on his aching shoulders, and he was tired. He didn't even remember going back to the lab, but he was there, and he didn't see Donovan. An elevator ding sounded, and he turned to find Batman and Robin chortling loudly, jumping into the car and waving goodbye. Before the elevator doors closed, Robin, with one last parting wink of the domino mask, rammed his bo staff into the laboratory floor, shattering tile and creating waves of uneven cement. As the shaking ground reached him, his legs wobbled ungracefully, and he fell with a shout, landing on his back and feeling his skull crash against the rough surface.

He sat up to find the elevator doors had vanished, and no other exit seemed apparent. Thirteen felt sorrowful that he was alone, abandoned by the two people he hoped were his friends, and back in the danger he worked so hard to escape.

A soft scuttering sound snapped him out of his pitiful thoughts, and he turned around toward the noise, but nothing was there. Another strange scuffle drew his attention to the opposite side of the room, still fruitless in results as the lab appeared empty. Thirteen tried to stand up, but his body was stuck to the tile. He pushed down with his palms, but to no prevail, and he remained seated. Anxiety twisted his stomach as he realized his hands were now glued to the floor and he was helpless.

He pulled at his limbs, ignoring the warning snaps in his shoulders and calves as he yanked hard against the floor. But his efforts were halted when he heard a strange hissing sound come from behind him. In his unfortunate position on the floor, he couldn't turn and face the noise, and instead had to bend his head back to look. He watched in horror as the locks of the containment tubes, his neighbors in capture, were releasing. That liquid gel that he knew so well poured out of the tube's opening door, and the stench of foul chemicals filled the air. Thirteen pulled at his hands harder as the substance approached him, burning a trail of fire as it did, but he still couldn't move.

Miraculously, the liquid gel stopped just short of his fingers, but before Thirteen felt he could celebrate his win, the glass door shattered, and his gaze fell on the twisted, contorted body of a scientist. The scientist's head snapped forward and met with Thirteen's, before the body fell boneless from the tube to the ground in a heap of tangled limbs and white lab coat. Thirteen shrieked at the sight, a sound that dissolved at the end into a pitiful cry for help-a cry for Donovan. But before anyone could answer his call, another glass door shattered, and a crumpled scientist fell to the floor like the prior.

The clone squeezed his eyes shut, pulling at his stuck hands and feet with sudden hysteria as he needed to get off the floor right then. Each time a glass door cracked and a new body fell, Thirteen flinched and counted. There were twelve in all before the glass remained intact, but by that time, every tube in the room was empty. He kept his eyes closed out of defiance and fear as he heard the bodies dragging themselves toward him, spreading more burning liquid gel to the tiles as they moved. He was no longer pulling senselessly at his limbs, but now just waiting for the scientists to snatch him and end his torment.

When silence fell over the lab, Thirteen held his breath in anticipation, shoulders raised to his ears with tension and abdomen pulled tight with anxiety. And he waited.

A slimy finger brushed against his shoulder, the burning gel harassing his skin, and the clone screeched, eyes snapping open and landing on a scientist knelt before him, staring at him with wide, empty eyes. Thirteen stared back with a gasp, and a frozen moment passed between them before the scientist's mouth opened, slowly but without stopping, until his jaw became unhinged, and his chin met his own chest. The clone was panting out breaths now, and he knew he was hyperventilating, but it did not matter. Because in the back of the scientist's throat was that horrible, painful green stone. The kryptonite. And it scorched his skin.

Thirteen cried out as the other scientists moved nearer to him, snapping their broken jaws at him and showing their own kryptonite stones deep in their throats. He screamed for help, and for Robin this time, but when the jaws stopped barking at him, he heard a voice in his ear that sent goosebumps across his skin, belonging to a person behind him that he could not see. Lex Luthor hissed hatefully, "You don't even deserve to be standing."

And then the scientist pounced.

***

When the car jerked slightly after hitting a bump in the road, Thirteen gasped awake, blinking around with owlish wide eyes. He had never experienced a dream before, much less a nightmare. He had donor memories reminding him that what he saw wasn't real, but that did little to comfort him in his consequential moments. Beads of sweat ran down his temple and his throat ached. His hair was clinging annoyingly to his skin, and suddenly his seat belt didn't feel right against his neck and chest. The vehicle around him was vibrating, so similar in sensation to the elevator he rode, and his throat became tighter with panic. The illuminated clock at the front read 3:08 in the morning, and he could no longer see Robin in the dark.

As the radio station skipped three channels without anyone touching the dial, landing on country music, Batman spoke in a soft voice from the driver's seat. “Is something wrong?”

Thirteen’s gaze snapped to Batman's reflection in the rear view mirror, and it didn't matter that the man's voice completely lacked the initial gravel he presented with, because those visors covering up the eyes of the man driving became too translucent; they hid too much of the person in charge of his destination, and he couldn't trust it anymore. That woman in the alley was right, he realized with a jolt, this man was spooky, and he got in the car with him. The station changed again, this time playing a classical string instrument.

“Did you have a bad dream?” The man's voice was still so quiet.

Remembering to breathe, Thirteen gasped a watery inhale, blue eyes widening further and hands crawling up to his throat. He tugged at the seat belt, pulling it away from his neck and holding it by the window for relief. The dark interior was replaced by a vicious red environment as he whined pathetically.

“It’s okay, kid. We are just driving. Take a deep breath, and then you can rest again." His voice had quickened just barely with the smallest hint of worry. The change was enough for the clone to notice, and Thirteen’s hand snapped down before he could stop himself, unbuckling his seat belt and throwing it off of him. Batman cursed. “No, no. You need to fasten that back, okay? It’s just for safety, it’s not a trap.”

The man's voice was louder now and quicker yet, but Thirteen wasn’t listening anymore because the backseat seemed to be getting smaller and he began to thrash. He kicked his feet and yanked mindlessly at the door handle. He knew he was stronger than his current state was presenting him with, but he was too confused in the aftermath of the nightmare to successfully use it. With another hiss, Batman tugged at the steering wheel and pulled the car over to the side of the road, luckily free from the crowded highway they had been on earlier in the night. Batman turned on the dim car light and twisted in his seat to face the clone, still seeing in red and whose breath came out in petrified pants.

“Kid,” Batman’s voice rose in volume. Though it did not harden in tone, the clone still flinched away and started yanking on the door handle again. “Look, look.” The added softness in the man's voice drew Thirteen’s gaze back and his eyes widened as he saw Batman removing his dark cowl. The fabric was pushed back, revealing a face that was still tinted red through the clone's eyes, though the threatening embers were lessening now.

Thirteen blinked rapidly before lowering his head and digging the heels of his hands into the eyelids until the red disappeared completely. It was then that he could hear the presence of a third rapid heartbeat, piercing through the pounding of his own pulse in his ears, and Thirteen lifted his head to find Robin awake. His head was still resting against the seat and he was watching Batman with a heavily slouched posture. Batman was looking back at him, trying to communicate something that the clone did not understand.

Batman, he found, was a man with dark curled hair, sweaty from his cowl and the heater he allowed for his passengers, and piercing blue eyes. His eyes looked much kinder than his mouth alone, and the clone wondered why he wore the frightening mask if he was a hero. The adrenaline from the nightmare quickly vanished and he was left drained of his energy and feeling embarrassed.

He sank into his seat and barely audibly said, “I’m sorry.”

To his surprise, Robin answered with a mumble produced between heavy, drowsy lips, “S’okay.” His gaze was still glued to Batman, as recognized through his domino mask, but the lenses were slowly closing, and his heart was calming as he was drifting off into slumber once more.

“Seat belt,” Batman whispered and Thirteen nodded solemnly, buckling the strap across his lap and chest. After the click sounded, Batman turned around and pulled the car back out onto the road. Thirteen noticed the man didn't replace his cowl, and he didn't turn the car light off.

Within just a few minutes, Robin’s heartbeat leveled out smoothly again and the sound of his deep breathing settled Thirteen’s gut further. And their journey continued.

Minutes after 8:00 that morning, Batman pulled into an inconspicuous-appearing private parking garage, using a turn signal whose bright clicking dragged both Robin and the clone from their sleep. Thirteen wasn't sure when he fell asleep again during the drive, but he was granted a dreamless rest, something he quickly found to prefer over the nightmare. Their entry required a retinal scan, hand print, voice recognition, eleven-digit pass code, and a card swipe before the heavy gate lifted, and Batman pulled into the underground garage. Thirteen frowned when he saw that the dark cement area was already filled with cars of all designs, but he remained quiet as the garage was a destination praised by Robin when he jumped out of the vehicle to stretch his arms and legs.

Thirteen readjusted the cape around his waist and climbed out of the back seat to stand in the musky building, completely enclosed and blocking out the morning sunlight, before he turned to grab his file and close the door.

“Come on inside," Batman addressed the clone, jerking his head toward the door that opened into the building and already leading the way. He was carrying two large bags, and Robin was digging around in the vehicle's trunk, unpacking more and yawning largely to himself. "Let's find you some clothes.”

But before he gave himself up that easily, Thirteen planted his feet and demanded, "Wait. Who else is here? There are so many cars here, what is this place?"

His voice came out louder than his intended volume, but his heart was racing at the prospect of voluntarily being led into a building filled with Lex's scientist goons. Robin's shuffling ceased and Thirteen found him frozen, still bent over the trunk but mask lenses glued to him and appearing nervous. His hand was already on the retracted bo staff attached to his belt. Thirteen turned back around and found Batman standing completely at ease and facing him.

"Nobody else is in this entire building. These are all my cars."

"Why?" Thirteen counted twenty cars alone in his immediate view, and he knew they had passed more before finding this parking spot. "Why do you need so many cars?"

"He doesn't," Robin snickered. "He likes to study the engines, drive them really fast, and then donate them to people who need one."

"They are for emergencies. We have them here if we need to escape without being traced," Batman clarified as he stepped closer to Thirteen, and the clone determined this movement was innocuous enough to remain planted. "This entire building is my safe house. It holds the appearance of a typical, mundane office building from the outside-just another to blend into the surrounding ones, but it is a safe house. And that means you will be safe here. We all will." His eyes flicked to Robin, who began to shuffle through the trunk again. "Now, come inside."

Thirteen glanced back at Robin and was met with an encouraging nod and smile. He followed Batman into the building where he was met with two sets of elevator doors. He blew out a stressed breath and Batman stopped again, watching him carefully. "Would you like to take the stairs? It's only a few floors up-not that it really matters with your flight."

Thirteen grinned and nodded quickly. He found Batman was right, the levels hardly mattered since he could simply hover and stroll behind the man, but he counted twelve stories anyway in the large, open stairwell. At the top platform, Batman opened a heavy door and presented the clone with their new habitat. Thirteen passed through the threshold and was pleased to find an immense living area, furnished with couches, chairs, tables, and a kitchen. The penthouse, as the word popped into his mind, also had several doors leading to additional rooms, as well as a hallway that added even more space and opportunity for branching rooms. Batman didn't allow the clone a moment to admire the place as he continued the wordless tour down the hallway. Between the narrow walls, Thirteen was reminded of the one leading to Luthor's office, and his steps faltered to keep several feet between Batman and himself. Without turning around, the man asked, "Are those papers for Superman?"

Thirteen chewed on his inner cheek and clutched the file tightly. He hadn't necessarily grabbed them for Superman, but given the information they contained, he supposed the alien hero deserved a read. In addition to that, the file would definitely aid his explanation regarding his relation to Superman. "They are mine. I... stole them." He wasn't sure why he admitted that. If Batman really was a hero, like the woman from the previous night had said, he would bring Thirteen to prison now. He grimaced and wrapped his arms around his torso, conveniently hiding the file behind his back, but Batman did not shout at him or slap handcuffs on his wrists.

Instead, the man asked, "You stole them from whom?"

"A bad person," he answered hotly. He was not keen on the idea of sharing his connection to Lex Luthor just yet. "No one you know."

Batman continued walking, leading the clone to the furthest end of the hall, and opening the door. Instead of an office with an orange couch and terrible rug, a second open space greeted the pair. This one was similar in size and layout to the first living area they walked through, and Thirteen's jaw dropped at the realization of just how large this penthouse really was. 

Batman stepped through the frame and the real tour began. "Here is a kitchen stocked with food. Please allow Robin or myself to know when you are attempting a meal in case you need any assistance. Through that next door is the restroom, equipped with a shower. Through that bathroom, you will find a door that leads to a bedroom. You are welcome to use that one, and there are plenty of clothes in the dresser by the bed. You are a little smaller than my eldest, but his old stuff should be just fine. We will get you clothes that fit when it is safe to do so." And then he walked away as the sound of Robin struggling with a few heavy bags filled the second living room.

Left to his own devices, Thirteen decided to take a shower. The woman in the alley made it apparent that he needed to be clean, and even Lex had called him filthy. The penthouse looked brand new, not a hint of dust anywhere to be found, and he wanted to be clean for it. So he stepped into the bathroom, closed the door and locked it, and then faced the large shower inside. To his dismay, the shower was surrounded by a glass door instead of a curtain like his donated memories provided. But with a deep breath, he untied Batman's cape, leaving it in the corner of the bathroom with his file, and he stepped into the small area. He decided to leave the glass door open and he turned on the knob. The cold water hit his face and he jumped, yanking the knob harshly toward the 'H,' and stepping away from the spray until he felt the steam. He never could have prepared himself for the tremendous relaxation that swept across his body as he stepped into the hot water. His muscles felt heavy in a way similar to slumber instead of exhaustion, and he laughed softly to himself as his problems seemed to lessen. After a few minutes had passed, he remembered he was supposed to be cleaning himself in there, and he examined the several bottles of soaps that lined the shower wall, giving each a quick sniff. With a grin, he used lavender shampoo and wildflower body wash, relishing in the feeling of his fingernails on his scalp, and gleefully watching as the crusted gel fall from his body. Even after he was determined clean, he stood under the stream with closed eyes and a sigh on his lips. The feeling was beautiful, and he wished to live in that comfort. But the world called him, and with a disappointed grimace, he turned off the water.

He stepped out of the shower and found a large basket of clean towels, causing him pause.

"This throws a wet blanket on my mood..." he whispered to himself, "or towel, I suppose." But Thirteen was too lost in his own traumatic thoughts to appreciate his own joke. He thought back to the scratchy one someone threw on him in the lab, the one that felt like thorns digging their way into his skin. Since that time, he felt he had already made so much progress. He wore a cape for several hours and sat against the car seat without hating it. So he cautiously picked through the towels, choosing a fluffy one and running his fingers across the surface. It felt wonderful.

He grinned and picked up the towel, wrapping it around his head like a foreign memory provided. He picked up another towel, equally nice and fluffy, and he pressed it against his face with a snort. He wrapped this one around his waist and grabbed another to drape across his shoulders. Feeling comfortable, he stepped through the second door and found himself in a bedroom just as nice as the rest of the safe house suggested. A large bed stood in the center of the room, already made with several fluffy pillows and warm blankets tucked under. He stepped forward and pressed a hand against the bed, feeling the way the mattress dipped under the pressure. Thirteen released his hand and a giggle fell from his lips as the blankets slowly rose back up in place. He then bent forward over the mattress and pressed his entire upper body into the bed. A sudden drive for sleep tugged at him, but he pushed himself up on his elbows to watch as the blankets under his head slowly came up. He jumped up onto the bed and laid down with his head on the pillows, rolling over several times to feel that overwhelming comfort, until finally he stilled on his back and sighed happily.

After several minutes passed, he reluctantly sat up and examined the rest of the room. A window allowed some sunlight to enter the room, but the shades were drawn tight to avoid the success of any possible onlookers. A large dresser stood before him, and he slipped off the bed to approach the wooden structure. He shuffled through each drawer with interest before eventually pulling every single article of clothing out and laying them all over the room for examination. He was drawn with a gasp to the bright blue superman shirt, and he tucked it away under his pillow for safety. For feigned causality, he chose a black shirt that read NASA across the top, red boxer shorts, and a pair of grey sweatpants. As expected, the sweats were loose around his waist, and he pulled the drawstrings tight before tying them.

He took a deep breath, suddenly feeling nervous for reasons he did not understand, and then stepped out of his room into the main living area. The clone was surprised to find the room entirely empty, and the house quiet in general. So much attention was forced upon him at Luthor's residency, that he almost expected everyone to be waiting for him here as well. 

Without it though, he returned to the bathroom, picked up his file, and listened closely for Batman's heartbeat, deciphering it as being the slower rhythm. And he followed the sound into an office room.

"I have no reason to trust you," Thirteen retorted in a grouchy voice. Batman looked up at him from his seat at a desk, appearing mildly-surprised to see the clone standing in his door frame. He noticed the kid was hovering above the floor and realization as to why he hadn't heard the entrance touched his face. He remained silent and waited for Thirteen to elaborate. "I don't even know you." Batman nodded in agreement.

They watched one another for several seconds, each scrutinizing the other with curiosity and caution. Finally, and with an aggravated huff that was completely uncalled for but possibly not unknown to the man based on his calm appearance, suggesting he may have experience in dealing with sullen children, Thirteen's feet landed on the floor and he stalked over to Batman, throwing his file onto the desk next to the man's elbow. Batman did not move yet, watching the clone with purpose and waiting for permission that came in the form of a hurried nod.

Batman read through the papers in silence, carefully avoiding any physical reaction that could worry or offend the clone, until he reached the end of the file.

“Well?” Thirteen asked, sounding slightly more defensive than intended, and he crossed his arms over his chest. He wasn't sure what he had expected from the man, but he at least hoped for some sort of reaction. He felt more exposed now than he ever had before he put on Batman's kid's clothing.

Batman closed the folder and softly cleared his throat. “Do you understand the information in this folder?”

Thirteen rolled his eyes. “Yes, of course I understand it.” Batman remained silent and still, watching him calmly until the clone admitted nervously, “Well, no, not all of it.” The man nodded slowly. “Some of the details are difficult, like the DNA stuff.”

“These people stole something very important from Superman. They took a piece his genetic makeup.”

Thirteen was nodding impatiently. He already knew this part. “Yes, yes. I am the byproduct of Kal-El, the alien Superman. This is the reason I need to speak to him, so I can...” he faltered. He wasn’t sure why he was searching for Superman. To have a home; to have a family; because he was scared, though he hated to admit the last one.

“This says you were also made with human DNA-"

“Yeah, and it says somewhere in there that he hypothesized the human DNA is the reason I was... successful.” The word didn’t feel right when he used it to describe himself. Even Batman looked uncomfortable. “But I don’t know who it was.”

“I will find out for you,” the man finally looked up from the file, gaze finding the clone’s eyes and reflecting startling sadness. It was a kind of melancholy that didn’t have pity embedded deep within it and Thirteen felt small under the man’s look. But it wasn’t the way Luthor made him feel small, because right now, standing in front of Batman, he felt cared for. "The science in this report is a few months old, but you... you are only a week old."

"No, I am fifteen or sixteen years; it says so in the folder." Thirteen leaned forward to grab his file. Batman allowed this and even watched patiently as the clone flipped to the paragraph and pointed at the sentence. "See here?"

"I do see," Batman murmured. "This person you took your file from-who was it?" Thirteen frowned and shook his head with a short huff. "It will help us understand who did this to you." The clone scoffed, hugging his abdomen tighter and turning away from the man. Batman sighed, and then asked in a softer voice, "Was it Lex Luthor?"

Thirteen froze, and ice crawled through his heart. His gaze snapped back to Batman, who was watching him carefully and dampening his own emotions from the clone's view, presenting only with a straight, blank face. "H-how-" Thirteen stuttered in a shaking voice as his breath accelerated, "how do you know that name?" His mind was spinning. Why had he trusted this man just because he said he knew Superman and his kid seemed nice enough. He took a step back and couldn't help but to swivel his head from side to side, looking for Luthor and his scientists as though they were already in the penthouse and waiting for him in Batman's room.

"Superman has had several disputes with a man named Lex Luthor. If someone were to steal his DNA and make a replication, I believe that man is the first obvious suspect." Thirteen faced Batman again, settling in posture but pouting his lower lip out now. He felt so tired of being stressed, exhausted from looking over his shoulder and expecting his own kidnapping. "Did you steal this folder from Luthor?" The clone held his breath for a moment and nodded slowly, whispering his confirmation. "I see. And you don't know whose human DNA he used?"

"No," Thirteen admitted. "I think it is the scientist Donovan, though. He was nice to me. He said I could live with him when I was finished developing, and that we could watch movies together." Batman frowned and nodded, asking for the man's full name. "It was Dab Dabney Donovan... I think. The other man called him all three of those names."

"Thank you," Batman's mouth turned up barely at the corners, almost as though he was smiling. "That was extremely helpful; you did such a good job. And I will do everything in my power to fix this for you." Thirteen was stunned, standing stock still with his eyebrows raised in shock. The man's words didn't sound condescending or malicious in intent, and despite the clone's anxieties, he wanted to continued trusting this man. He nodded slowly, cleared his throat to mitigate the lump that embedded itself there, and hurriedly wiped at his leaking eyes. Batman turned away and allowed him the privacy to clean himself up, before asking in a firmer voice, "That wound in your abdomen, have you had that examined yet?" Thirteen shook his head, and lifted his shirt to present the feeding tube hole with a shrug. His accelerated healing had nearly sealed the wound completely, something that impressed Batman, and he suggested the clone leave the wound to recover on its own after being adequately washed in the shower.

Their conversation died down, and Batman returned to his own work. Still standing just inside the room, Thirteen suddenly felt bored and fidgety as though he were in the way, even though Batman never told him to leave. Still, he asked in a soft voice and with a warmed face, "Where is Robin?"

Batman's eyebrow raised for a moment, but he answered immediately, "He is sleeping. You can rest too, if you want. Did you see your bed?" Thirteen grinned genuinely and nodded. "You can sleep in there, or anywhere really. There are plenty of rooms for your choosing. This building is locked up; nobody will come here."

Thirteen felt comfort in these words, and he turned on his heel. He did want to crawl under those covers and sleep.

***

He woke up slowly, his own exhaustion begging his eyelids to remain closed, but a strange thumping noise just continued to get louder. As his consciousness came, he understood the sounds to be that of fighting with occasional groaning.

"-again," he heard a deep voice say, heavily contorted through the several walls the vibrations traveled before reaching his ears. "Come on." He heard several thwacking sounds before a full thump as someone hit the floor, followed by a soft groan. "You are leaning to the left again," the man-Batman, he understood now-warned. And then the sounds continued, and Thirteen realized they were fighting. He quickly jumped out of bed, though he regretted to leave those pillows, leaping across the clothing that still littered the floor, and he jumped out of his room. The living area he stepped into was empty, but he stopped to listen to their continued conversation as it turned to the subject of him, louder in volume now.

"So, he's a clone, huh?" Robin asked, followed by a few more grunts from both of the fighters.

"And how do you know that?" Batman sounded somewhat amused.

"I read his file while you were making coffee. How do you know Lex didn't put a tracker in his body? He could be coming here right now."

Thirteen gasped when the name was said so easily; he didn't understand how everyone already knew about Lex Luthor, and why he was such an obvious associate in the first place. Further, he hadn't even thought about Lex putting a tracker in his body yet, and he looked down at his chest, nearly expecting to see a blinking tracker glowing red through his skin.

"You think this was Luthor's doing? I scanned him already, in the car." More blocked hits sounded. "Came up clean from any GPS or magnetic interference, which I found surprising."

"It's obviously Luthor. And that is surprising. It sounds too easy," Robin whispered, during a slight pause in the scuffling.

"Perhaps it was not so easy for him though."

And Thirteen had enough of the pair speaking about him. His feet lifted from the ground and he flew across the room, down the narrow hallway, and into the first large space they entered until he came across an interesting scene. Robin leapt across the room, kicking strongly and swinging his bo staff all at once, Batman blocked the bo staff, and swiveled away, but the kick grazed his middle. When Robin landed on the ground again, he ducked to avoid Batman and rolled through the man's widened legs, jumping up on the other side and catching his knee with a swipe of the staff. Batman spun around and the two became enthralled in a fight that resembled a rehearsed dance. Robin jabbed and Batman ducked. Batman lunged and Robin dodged. Until finally, Robin surprised the man with a flip in the air and a kick to his abdomen that sent the man staggering back.

"That one was new," Batman commented, holding his side.

"Nightwing taught it to me," Robin answered proudly, though he was panting loudly and he flopped down onto his back, drenched in sweat. Thirteen fully entered the room now, deeming the situation safe and standing over Robin with a curious frown. "Hey up there," Robin snickered, nodding in greeting to the clone. Batman stepped forward and pulled Robin up by an extended arm, returning the kid to his feet.

"What is this?" Thirteen asked, but Batman was already leaving the room, stepping through the hallway and disappearing. Robin chattered about how they were training, but the clone started circling the living area to examine the items instead of listening when he came across a mirror. He stopped and gazed upon his own reflection; a complicated expression decorated his face and he wore a heavy crease between his eyebrows. His dark hair was waved now, finally clean and dried after his shower, and it hung just past his shoulders. His eyes were blue, but different compared to those that he saw when looking at Batman. His were less intense than the man's, but filled with triple the emotion already, right there for everyone to read.

Robin watched him silently now, his own answer trailed off and waiting for the clone to decide whether or not he wanted to voice his new concerns. In a way, Thirteen did. "You said I look like Superman?" His question sounded like a statement with begging tied to the end, wishing for more but desperate to sound nonchalant.

"Yes," Robin answered with a grin. "You have the same curly hair and glowing red eyes and everything."

Thirteen frowned in the mirror. His eyes were obviously blue, and he wondered about that mask the kid was wearing. "You see them glowing red?"

"Obviously not right now," he snickered. "But twice in the alley when you got really mad at B and me. You probably could have skewered us with that laser vision if you got any more upset."

"You two should have backed off when I told you to," he huffed, and Robin scoffed in return, crossing his arms over his chest and rolling his whole head.

"Good thing we didn't. You know, you were going the wrong way. Heading right toward the Atlantic. You wouldn't find much out there, especially not Superman." The clone wrinkled his nose distastefully in response, but after a beat, his features relaxed and he asked about the laser vision. Robin grinned and waltzed over to Thirteen. "Supes has so many cool abilities; he can teach you everything he knows. You'll love him, kid!"

"Don't call me kid," Thirteen frowned heavily. "I am taller than you." And he measured the height of his own head, extending his arm and holding it high above Robin's.

"Height has nothing to do with it."

"Okay, fine. How old are you?"

"Almost fifteen!"

"Almost fifteen means you are fourteen. And as you know because you read my file, I am either fifteen or sixteen. So, don't call me kid." Thirteen smirked in response to Robin's slack-jawed face. He clearly wanted to argue his point more, but the clone simply shook his head and walked away. If he were honest about it, he didn't really mind for Robin to call him 'kid' at all. He still found the banter to be fun.

The clone took another shower, this one even longer than his first because he shampooed his hair twice for fun, and used an entire two-thirds of the body wash because it smelled nice. When he finally turned off the water, he used the remaining three clean towels to dry off before flopping down on his bed again, smiling with glee at the feeling he believed would never get old. But sleep refused to find him this time, and he quickly became bored by himself. He crawled off the bed, deciding on black sweats and a blue Blüdhaven t-shirt this time, though he wasn't sure what that word meant, and he left his room.

He heard Batman speaking in a low voice to someone over the phone in his room, though his door was closed with intention this time. Instead of bothering him twice in a row, Thirteen listened to the third heartbeat in the penthouse, and he moved to find Robin lounging in the recliner and watching a video on his phone. He had changed into a comfortable-appearing hoodie, whose strings he chewed absently, and he was clad in loose basketball shorts over his suit's leggings. He still wore his domino mask, the clone noticed, which was strange because since he woke up from his nightmare in the car the previous night, Batman had not worn his once. Thirteen lowered onto his haunches by the armrest and looked over Robin's shoulder at the video.

"Who is that?" He finally asked when Robin didn't acknowledge his presence.

"This is Nyjah Huston. He's one of the best skateboarders in the whole world. Look at this here, he's performing a move called the Indy Backflip. See that? Look how awesome that is."

Thirteen watched the video and became annoyed by how enamored Robin sounded at the move. He scoffed and rolled his eyes. "That is so easy. I can do that." And it was true. With the aid of his flight, he could roll in the air like that... though he wasn't sure how Huston made his skateboard stick to his feet.

Robin studied the clone carefully in silence for a beat before admitting, "Well, I can't." And he turned back to the video, chewing on his hoodie strings again.

Thirteen listened to the man answering the interviewer's questions with obvious practiced ease, and something about him peaked the clone's interest. Finally, and while absentmindedly reaching up to touch his own, he murmured, "I like his hair."

Robin watched the movement and grinned widely, "We can cut yours to look like his."

Thirteen's eyebrows shot up in realization. He knew that people cut their hair. Robin's was shorter than Thirteen's hair, and Batman's was even shorter than that. But he hadn't considered that he was allowed to cut his own hair now. "We can?"

"Of course," Robin shrugged. "You can do whatever you want with it; it's your hair. You can dye it or cut it or braid it, whatever floats your boat. Plus, we have clippers in the bathroom, we could cut it right now."

Thirteen considered this, resting his chin on the armrest, and holding his hands in his lap. "Okay," he decided. "Okay, let's do this. But we don't have a boat here, so don't mess it up."

"I won't mess it up," Robin snickered as he jumped up to his feet. Thirteen leveled him with a pointed look, and Robin rolled his whole head again. "Okay, so even if it does get messed up, your hair will grow back and we can try it again."

"Oh sure thing, Rob. You screw up my hair, you aren't going anywhere near it again." And he followed him into the bathroom. This bathroom was smaller than the one attached to Thirteen's room as it only have a toilet and a sink.

Robin dug around the drawers until he found an electric buzzer and sharp clippers, and then he hopped up on the counter and faced the clone. "Come here," he urged and motioned Thirteen to him while he plugged the buzzer's cord into the socket. Without hesitation, Thirteen stepped up to Robin, who directed him to stand between his knees. Robin gathered a generous portion of the clone's hair, located at the top of his head, and tied it off with a hair tie. He picked up the clippers and hacked away at the hair around his right ear and temple without hesitation. When the hair was short and jagged, Robin moved to the left side and gasped after the first cut. Thirteen startled at the sound, raising a hand to meet his scalp involuntarily, but he halted, and his movement diminished when Robin spoke.

“Wow, you have an earring? That is so rad!” Tim reached forward to carefully run the tag between his forefinger and thumb. Thirteen didn’t really understand that word, but he figured it was pretty exciting based on the kid’s reaction, and he couldn’t help to smirk. “This says... Cadmus. Is your name Cadmus?”

“No,” the clone snapped, smirk vanished. He hated that he still didn't have a proper answer for a name, and after his incident in the alley, he didn't want to try and claim the name Superman again. “I am called Thirteen, but that will change when I finally meet Superman. Cadmus is just the name of the project that made me.” He reached up and held a protective hand over his earlobe.

Robin was frowning now, shifting uncomfortably with his head tilted to the side. “So it’s... a tag then. Did someone tag you?”

“A tag?”

“Yeah, like people use for cattle..." his voice was a mere whisper at the end, trailed off dramatically from the start of the sentence. Thirteen's cheeks were hot and his eyes fell to the counter at the implication. Robin continued in a hurried voice. "But you know, that word doesn't even mean anything. They were probably just trying to be mean to you, and joke's on them, you are the one with a cool earring. Tag and earring basically mean the same thing anyway." 

“Those are two completely separate words.”

“In pronunciation and spelling sure, but the physical placement is the same. Do you want me to take it out for you?”

Thirteen pondered this question softly. “You said it was rad; should I keep it?”

“We can replace it,” Robin suggested. “My friends back in Gotham have loads of earrings. Or if you don't want to wait, we can get one before we go back there. I bet there is a mall around here somewhere, and as soon as Batman says it is safe for us to leave, we can go there and pick one out. They will have all sorts: studs, hoops, dangling ones with stars. Whatever you want."

Thirteen thought this was interesting, and he smiled. "Rad."

The clone lowered his hand, and Robin got back to work, trimming the hair on the sides of his head, which he eventually shaved, and then cutting away at the hair on top until it was only a few inches long. He really liked how his hair would no longer touch his back after he took a shower, and he grinned as he planned on taking another as soon as Robin finished. Just as Thirteen opened his mouth to ask Robin if he cuts his own hair too, the clone suddenly heard Batman speaking urgently from several rooms away.

“Hello?” His voice was low and gruff again, and with the electric buzzer running, he had a difficult time hearing the voice from the other end of the call. “Okay, okay. Just hold on, it is going to be okay. I’m on my way.” The bedroom door the man worked behind swung open, hitting the opposite wall and attracting Robin's attention. He stopped and listened carefully, but Batman was already moving through the connected living room and grabbing his keys. "Oracle, emergency with Nightwing. Send all available."

"B?" Robin called out, still frozen.

“I have to go to Blüdhaven.” The answer was short and firm, but Thirteen heard the man's heart thumping.

“Blüdhaven?” Robin parroted, hopping off the sink and exiting the bathroom to follow the man's trek around the penthouse. The clone followed. Batman was currently pulling on a cowl and cape-a new one, Thirteen noticed, because the one he had worn around his waist was still in the corner of his bathroom. “But it’s... daytime. Someone is attacking him now?” Batman grunted, which was as close to a response as either of them would get. “I’m already ready to go, I can change in the car.”

Batman became visibly pained and stopped to grimace at the two boys standing before him. After just a pause that seemed eternal in the elevated energy rolling from the man's shoulders, he said, “No. You are staying here.”

“What?” Robin's voice was that of a person so riddled with disappointment. He sounded abandoned.

“We cannot leave him alone,” Bruce nodded to Thirteen. “That wouldn’t be fair. And he cannot go back to Gotham, let alone Blüdhaven. Stay here, I’ll send someone here.”

This created uproar. Thirteen insisted, "I can be here alone-" while Robin demanded, "Send someone? Who?"

Batman sighed loudly, having wondered that himself. He quickly scrolled through his contacts on his computer gauntlet as he pulled on his boots, murmuring softly and mostly to himself. “Barry is always late, we can’t count on him to get here quick enough... Dinah is busy with Connor... West is out of commission for recovery...” he suddenly snapped. “Zatanna.”

“B," Robin sounded appalled. "We don’t need a babysitter.”

“She won’t be babysitting, Robin,” he stated plainly as he stood up. “I know you are frustrated that you have to stay here, but I need you to really think this through.”

"Why can't Zatanna go to Nightwing, and you stay here then? We have to find Superman," Robin countered, but Batman leveled him with a silencing look that even had Thirteen turning around to avoid seeing it.

"Because it is him. The Joker that has Nightwing, and I cannot-" He stopped. Batman placed a gloved hand on Robin’s cheek while the kid's head fell. And after that shortest pause, Batman pulled away and strode quickly to the front door, calling behind his shoulder, “Be safe. You can call while I’m on my way there. If anything happens, you know what to do.”

And then he disappeared behind a closed door that locked automatically behind him, leaving Robin and Thirteen standing inside the room. “Well," Robin shrugged,  "I guess we can finish your hair.” He reached up to tug on a strand of Thirteen’s hair before dodging a playful shove and leading him back into the bathroom.

Chapter Text

Robin was sitting on the bathroom sink once again, running the electric buzzer along Thirteen’s scalp with intense precision to create the perfect fade haircut. The tip of his tongue was stuck out between his lips with concentration and he held his breath. Since Batman's sudden departure, the air had felt still, and the room was quiet save the soft zip sound produced by the buzzer. The sensation tickled as it grazed his skin, sending chills up the clone's spine. He could feel Robin was more on edge now than he had been just prior, and the clone was ashamed to admit he could understand why. After Thirteen demanded information as to why there were so many vehicles in the garage hidden beneath them, he remembered seeing Robin reach for his bo staff. At the time, he felt in the air that Robin was anxious upon hearing his aggravated reaction, especially because he knew the clone's eyes had a tendency to glow red just like Kal-El's, a feature Thirteen had activated several times thankfully without the accompanying beam of flame. But Thirteen hoped that because Batman thought they would be fine alone together, even if only for a short time before someone named Zatanna arrived, then maybe that meant he could get through it without causing any more problems. He really hadn't meant to startle anyone, particularly not Robin, but everything still worried him. He needed to be careful to avoid falling back into Luthor's grasp, and he knew he was right to ask about the safe house, but he was ashamed at the prospect of making Robin feel like he had to defend himself against the clone.

“So where is Superman?” Thirteen asked. He considered apologizing for his frustration in the garage just then, wishing to do anything to relieve any uncertainty his friend could be holding, but the room was too quiet and his racing thoughts were too loud. “I thought you and Batman said he’d be here.”

“He will be here. But he’s in space right now, so the cell service might be unreliable.”

“Space?” Thirteen was awed. Robin nodded. “Why is he up there?”

“Oh, just the same old, same old.” Robin grinned and brushed the hair from Thirteen’s neck and shirt. “Saving the universe. Kickin’ the villains to the curb. That sort of normal super-alien stuff. But Batman sent him a message and he will come back as soon as he sees it.” Thirteen liked the sound of that. The delayed meeting was only feeding his growing anxiety and he just wanted everything to be fixed-not that he even knew what fixed was in this situation. Robin’s phone chimed and he stopped to read the message, turning off the buzzer and placing it on the sink beside him, before snorting loudly and slapping a palm to his mouth. “No way, look at this!”

He tilted his screen to Thirteen where the clone read a text asking, 'So did B adopt another one?' Along with a screenshot of a picture from Instagram-a picture of the clone and the woman from the alley.

Thirteen gasped. “That’s me!” Robin snickered and nodded, pulling up the photo and zooming in. “She mentioned she would post the picture after we met, but I didn't think I would ever have to see it. My eyes are so red though, I must have almost used my laser vision there too.”

“No, she just doesn’t know how to take a photo. She used flash in a dark alleyway instead of moving toward a street lamp. Or, you know, using the anti-red eye function on her phone.” Robin pocketed his cell phone and shook his head. "Most phones have that feature now, but nobody ever uses it."

Thirteen didn't understand what Robin was referring to, but he didn't really care. Instead, he pouted while grumbling, “She shouldn’t have put that on there anyway.” Because she shouldn't have, the clone emphasized in his own mind. All that does is provide direct evidence of his whereabouts for the people trying to kidnap him. But as this thought passed through his mind, another quickly chased it away and stood tall in its place. Robin's friend had asked if B, which Thirteen knew referred to Batman, had adopted him. The implication grew heavy in his chest, as the thought was almost comforting even though the clone was already waiting for his real family.

There was a soft and subtle pause before Robin whispered with his head tilted slightly and a small frown touching his lips, “What do I call you?”

Thirteen had wondered that too. He didn’t want his friends to call him clone and he definitely did not want them to call him by his number. The mere thought alone of hearing such a name being spoken from Robin made his chest ache. But this would all be over soon, he remembered, because Kal-El would find him and then he could finally have a name. He could introduce himself formally to his new friends, Batman and Robin, and they could speak to him in return using his new title. The thought was thrilling, and he hoped for Superman to have a speedy return.

“Nothing,” he finally decided. Though he couldn’t see Robin’s eyes, he understood the other had become sad as his bottom lip turned out in small pout. He opened his mouth to argue, but the clone continued first. “Don’t call me anything until I have a real name. Except maybe ‘kid,’” he joked at the end.

And Robin hesitantly smiled. “You’re all finished. What do you think?”

Thirteen moved to stand next to Robin rather than in front of him, and he examined his new haircut in the mirror. His dark curly hair was now longest on top, reaching the length of a few inches and falling to his forehead. The hair by his temples and in the back had been buzzed short. He tugged at a piece of his hair and watched it spring back to its wave.

“Rad,” he confirmed with a wide grin, and Robin visibly relaxed beside him. He clapped his hands together loudly, and announced, “Okay, my neck is itchy now.” And as though this explained anything, he turned from the bathroom sink and strode through the open door. Because Thirteen’s own bathroom was out of towels and he was running low on soap, he paused to listen for the swishing of water traveling through pipes before turning in the direction and approaching a door that led to another bathroom; this one was adjacent to a bedroom similar to his own.

“What’re you doing?” Robin asked, jumping from the sink and stopping in the living room to watch the clone's movements.

“Taking a shower,” Thirteen stated easily and entered the bathroom, relieved to find this was a full one that included a shower, unlike the bathroom in which he received his haircut. Not only that, but this one had a basket still filled with fluffy towels. He grinned at the sight.

“But you already have a bathroom, and that one is mine.”

“I don’t have any more towels.” Thirteen shrugged and closed the door between them, locking it loudly with purpose. He heard Robin shouting about how running out of towels doesn’t mean the bathroom stops working, but Thirteen shucked his clothes and turned on the hot water for the third time that day.

Robin’s bathroom shower had different bottles of shampoo and body soap, so Thirteen examined each smell with excitement and blissful glee. He decided on a shampoo called Hawaiian Breeze, and he was amazed to notice how different it felt to scrub the soap across his scalp now that his hair was so much shorter. This shampoo had a matching body gel that the clone used while spending extra attention ridding himself of the short clipped hairs that seemed to stick to the back of his neck. When he finally stepped out of the shower, he loaded up on towels: one around his head, one around his shoulders, and one around his waist, and then he stepped into the adjacent bedroom, Robin’s bedroom, as the kid had informed him with obvious annoyance.

The bedrooms were pretty similar, he noticed. Large bed and large dresser. Though Robin had managed to keep all of his clothing in the drawers. The only thing setting the rooms apart, other than Thirteen’s holding the appearance of a tornado traveling through, was a small duffel bag next to the dresser. He knelt beside the bag and shuffled through it, finding a math textbook, a paperback novel, toothbrush and paste adjacent, and a small felt bag.

“You’re snooping,” Robin accused and Thirteen jumped with a terrified yelp that brought a swift look of guilt to the former’s face. He turned to find Robin leaning heavily on the open bedroom door frame with his arms crossed over his chest. In light of the clone's reaction to his sudden presence, his posture faltered and his arms fell to his sides. “I didn’t mean to scare you, but this is my room. What do you want from my bag?”

“You didn’t scare me... but what is this?” Thirteen held up the small felt bag, glad to change the subject.

“That is my camera. Wanna see it?” Thirteen nodded, so Robin approached him and sat down on the floor next to him, unzipping the bag and pulling out a digital camera. He pressed a small button and the device came to life with a small jingle, and the lens automatically opened. “I can take a picture of you if you want. It’ll be way better than that alley picture, I promise. Say cheese!” He grinned and held the camera up to his eye, the opposite squeezing shut and reflected on the domino mask.

“No,” Thirteen stated plainly, but he looked at the camera and smiled shyly, a smile that didn’t show teeth. He held the pose, sitting across from Robin on the floor, until the shuttering sound ended and Robin pulled the camera away from his eye. He turned the screen toward Thirteen and showed the clone his new picture. “Oh,” he breathed. This picture was much better than the dark, startled photo in the alley, even with a towel draped across his shoulders and another wrapped around his new haircut. His eyes were blue and he wasn't naked. But he knew the real reason this one was so much better was because he was smiling in it. Robin asked if he liked it and Thirteen nodded quickly. “My eyes are normal in it, thank you. Can we look at the other pictures?”

“My pictures?” Robin asked, sounding dumbfounded. “No one has really asked that before-except my parents sometimes, mostly during the snowy months.”

The clone couldn’t help the chuckle that passed his lips. “Oh sure. Batman definitely seems like the sort that appreciates a good piece of art.” And he stood up from the floor, mostly missing how Robin’s face crinkled with confusion. “Come on, let’s look at the pictures.” And specifically without an invitation, Thirteen laid down on Robin’s bed. He refused to consider sitting on the floor when there was a perfectly comfortable bed right next to them and at their immediate disposal, equipped with pillows and all.

Robin watched the clone slack-jawed for a moment before murmuring something about “Goldilocks getting comfortable,” and crawling onto the mattress beside him. They laid next to one another on their backs and with their arms and legs pressed together as Robin slowly scrolled through his pictures. He stopped for each picture as Thirteen gasped and praised them in a soft whisper, asking where every single photo was taken place. Even after the first ten answers were some variation of, "in Gotham," he continued to ask, and Robin provided him with more description.

“This one here of the tree, that was taken at the old park just near the elementary school. It blooms a full two months after it is supposed to, way after all of the other ones have, which is pretty cool. My mom used to say it needed a calendar so it could keep up with the others, but it looked just fine when it decided to sprout new leaves and flowers. This next one, that is an old barn I used to pass on the way to my friend Joseph's house. The farmer used to have horses but he sold them all to some family in Ohio-or was it Kentucky?-and now that barn just rots. But when the sun is setting just right, the beams come in through the cracks in the wood. It took me a while to get that picture just how I wanted it." Thirteen found them all to be incredible. He had the general knowledge of what the world looked like through those donated memories, but to experience it himself was foreign. He almost regretted making himself fly so high in the sky so he could hide in the clouds after escaping the lab the previous day, but he knew it was necessary for coverage. Robin continued to scroll through and explain several more photos until he reached the very first picture he had taken using that memory card. "That’s all I have on here."

“You find very beautiful things,” Thirteen informed him factually, and Robin’s gaze lowered as he wore a dopey smile now. “I like the bridge one the best, the one with the twinkling lights on the railing and no cars. Thank you for showing me.” And when that appreciation just didn't feel adequate enough for the person who offered him a sandwich, cut his hair, and showed him the amazing pictures, Thirteen sat up and twisted on the bed until he faced Robin. He raised his hand to Robin, holding it suspended in the air with his palm out just like he had with Donovan. He remembered the warmth that he felt in the lab-the first warmth he had known-and he wanted to replicate that feeling with someone that he also believed to be wonderful. Robin's mouth scrunched with confusion for a moment, but he sat up and pressed his own palm against Thirteen’s anyway, hoping that was what the clone intended for the movement. When the warm blanket radiated from Thirteen to him, Robin sat up straighter with startling speed and pulled his hand away.

Thirteen gave him a questioning gaze, and Robin explained with cheeks painted pink, "That was interesting. I don't think Superman can do that sort of thing..." The clone didn't know what to do with that information, seeing as though his inhuman abilities came from the alien's DNA, and therefore he assumed they should be the same. Thirteen did remember reading Lex's notes regarding his telekinesis being activated with elevated emotion, and when he was pushing stuff around the man's office, he was using the blanket to do it. That blanket was the same thing that allowed him to fly. He realized with a soft sigh that the warmth in his chest he utilized was telekinesis. And though it was a strange word and he still hadn't met Superman, it brought him comfort in that it was another piece of his own identity. His mind was ripped from his thoughts as Robin asked, "Want to watch a movie?"

Thirteen considered this. He did want to watch a movie; it was something Donovan promised him, but now he could do it and skip the whole go-back-in-the-tank-until-Lex-controls-your-mind step. He nodded and Robin grinned. He told the clone how much he loved the Star Wars movies and he couldn’t wait to show him for the first time. Thirteen thought about how he sort of knew the premise of the films, still because of those strange donated memories, but he kept quiet about that because Robin sounded so excited. And he sort of wanted to make him happy. While Robin jumped into the living room to find the movie, Thirteen went back to his own bedroom to change into actual clothing. He settled on more loose basketball shorts and an old circus t-shirt that he liked because of the cartoon elephant.

Robin chattered all through finding the DVD in the large stack of movies available to them in a drawer under the TV, putting the DVD in the player, and queuing up the movie. He sat down on the large couch next to Thirteen, a couch that the clone loved as it was heavily cushioned and lined with pillows and throw blankets, and Robin pressed the start button. Only five minutes in, Robin had to pause the movie because Batman called his cellphone. He answered and parroted that yes, they were fine and the doors were still locked. Thirteen listened closely as Batman’s heart thumped through the phone.

“I’m calling because I mean for us to stay on the comms until Zatanna arrives. And maybe even after that.” Thirteen heard the regret and guilt embedded in his statement.

“Sure thing, B. But we are watching Star Wars right now,” Robin informed him, popping the small ear piece in and hanging up the phone as the conversation switched across the devices.

“I don’t mind listening to that,” Batman answered. His voice was softer now, coming through a smaller speaker, but Thirteen still heard the man without needing to strain.

“Alright. It’s episode four, and Leia just gave R2 the plans.”

“My favorite.”

“Mine too, but no spoilers, B. He can definitely hear you.” And Robin turned to wink at Thirteen, one mask lens shutting as the other remained open. Thirteen scrunched his nose and turned back to the movie as Robin pressed play.

Only moments later, an ungodly noise erupted as the clone’s stomach growled with a ferocity the three listeners had never heard before. Robin turned to him with mouth gaping in surprise and Thirteen looked down at his own abdomen, expression clearly impressed at the volume but also afraid, as shone through wide eyes.

“Whoa,” Robin paused the movie. “Are you hungry?” Thirteen shrugged. He hadn’t known to be hungry yet, though if he were really honest he occasionally felt lightheaded, especially during the hot showers and when he flew. But he assumed that could simply be the way people normally felt.

Only five minutes later, Thirteen found himself sitting at the kitchen table facing a single saltine cracker plated on the table before him. “Just take a small bite,” Robin encouraged. He had shuffled through the cabinets for a few minutes while trying to find something gentle, as he explained to the clone. When he did finally spot the crackers, he told Thirteen that they were the perfect food for this, but the clone felt rightfully apprehensive.

Thirteen huffed. “This is so stupid, I don’t even want this.” He pushed the plate away from him as his stomach flipped; and he thought about the sandwich in the car and the horrible feeling that plagued him just afterward. "I am going to get sick again, and I do not want to deal with that. Look, my stomach stopped making those ridiculous sounds, so it is all-" and right on cue, his stomach growled again. Robin didn't bother stifling his snicker then.

“Just try it. And if it all works out fine, later we can have some really good food.”

And Thirteen couldn't pass up the opportunity to tease Robin with a smirk, “What, like fish and green beans?”

“Shut up.”

Thirteen was relieved to find that the saltine cracker actually turned out to be pretty good. He took the smallest nibbles, so small that Robin even rolled his entire head and complained. But it worked, and he only became nauseous for a short minute. In between the nibbles, he took small sips of water until he finished the cracker with a triumphant smile. He ate three more before Robin announced he was ready to move to the next level.

The "next level" led to Robin digging more stuff out of the kitchen cabinets and presenting them to the clone with an in-depth description of each alongside its rating on a scale of 1 ("it's so gross, you would hate it") to 10 ("this is the best food you'll even try, I swear"). So far, Thirteen was happy to state that Robin hadn't found a food that he labeled as a 1, and his 10's so far included chocolate-covered pretzels and beef jerky. Robin popped popcorn ("the perfect movie snack," he informed the clone with a serious look) in the silver microwave while Thirteen sat on the island counter, holding a large spoon of peanut butter in one hand and a container of Nutella in the other. The discarded peanut butter jar remained next to his hip, near empty now. He dipped the spoonful in the Nutella, and brought it to his lips.

He swallowed the mixture and then asked with a sticky mouth, “So you read my file, huh?” He knew Batman was still there and listening, his heartbeat pounding anxiously on the other end as he traveled to Blüdhaven, but the man had remained silent for so long, Thirteen didn’t mind to talk to Robin about this now.

Robin chewed on his lower lip and nodded. “That’s pretty heavy stuff.”

“He programmed me with memories. That’s how I can talk and stuff.” Thirteen already knew Robin assumed Lex made him, which felt like a major invasion of privacy earlier. But it seemed to make it all easier now, like the clone didn't have to explain himself.

“That must be very confusing.”

“No,” Thirteen shook his head.  “It’s not confusing. My own memories feel different; they are more clear and real. Having the others, it’s like I’m carrying around an automatic dictionary with me. It answers questions but I don’t get them mixed up.” The clone paused. Robin remained quiet, allowing the both of them a moment to think about this. Finally, Thirteen took a deep breath and continued, “But I haven’t done anything. I don’t have these experiences even though I carry the memory of the consequences. It doesn't feel right, it is like I have been cheated out of living so far. It’s... weird.”

“It’s never too late to do stuff, you know. You can start living as you now and that’s not so bad. Whatever they stole from you, you can take it all back.” Robin even smiled, and placed a comforting hand on Thirteen's shoulder. The clone knew Robin felt the warm blanket radiating from him again, but he did not withdraw his hand this time until the microwave chimed, announcing the popcorn was ready. "This'll change your life," Robin crowed with excitement, pulling the puffed bag from the microwave and pouring the contents into a bowl.

They gathered two apple juices from the refrigerator, something that Thirteen found to love, and Robin waved Thirteen back toward the living room, stating they had already wasted too much time not watching Star Wars. But his steps faltered when he noticed the door to the bathroom in which he had cut the clone's hair was closed. It was something he distinctly remembered not doing, and he believes he would have heard if Thirteen did it. He raised a timid finger to his ear piece, and whispered, "Batman?"

But there was no response.

Thirteen was leaving the kitchen with intentions to flop back on that comfortable couch and figure out the movie before him, but he stopped as Robin moved quickly to grab his wrist. "Something is wrong," Robin warned. The clone frowned, feeling frozen as a chill gripped his spine and tickled the skin over his arms. He watched as Robin lifted the bottom hem of his hoodie, exposing the utility belt he still wore, and he tucked the fabric beneath it for easier access. "Stay here," he pleaded and bounded into the room in which Thirteen had given Batman his file, emerging seconds later with his bo staff extended and clipped to his belt. Robin was tapping quickly on a small computer device, huffing softly to himself.

"What is it?" The clone murmured, anxiety tugging at his chest. The bowl and bottles of juice shook helplessly on the kitchen counter, something Robin seemed to ignore as he hissed out a curse and typed faster on his device. "Robin, should we leave now?" The walls had seemed to be equivalent to land standing entire poles apart from one another when he first saw the penthouse, but now alongside his racing heart, they were moving toward him, closing in on him. Flashing warnings were depicted in his mind and his toes lifted from the ground before he could stop it, and the chairs joined the smaller items in their dance to the music of his telekinesis. Just as he was about to ask Robin again for answers, or demand an explanation for him causing such a panic, his friend raised his head to meet Thirteen.

Robin was wearing a large frown, and he stated, "We've been hacked, Batman cannot hear us, and someone is in the house." Thirteen nodded slowly in understanding, but he wanted to scream. "Prepare for the worst." Robin stepped silently into the living room with Thirteen trailing closely behind, feet still lifted from the ground.

"Are you the welcome brigade? I was wondering when I would receive some hospitality," the voice startled the pair. Robin crouched and raised his bo staff, spinning toward the bald man sitting in the living room chair as though he had been there the entire time. Thirteen covered a gasp with a shaking hand, feeling his stomach churn in terror. "Though I guess things are a little different in Gotham than they were where I grew up." Lex Luthor stood up from the chair and began to walk toward the room's exit, successfully herding the pair away from the doorway through which they had just entered. He tilted his head to the side and his gaze fell on Thirteen. “Oh. You’ve already soiled your hair. How disappointing,” Luthor tisked, shaking his head slowly and leveling the clone with a premature silencing gaze. He circled the pair with menacing steps. “You never really get that baby-softness back after the first cut.”

“Luthor, I am surprised to see you here,” Robin countered, matching Luthor’s steps with opposing ones of his own. “You couldn’t afford to hire any lackeys to come do this for you?” But like a call answering his question, the large window shattered as someone jumped through, tranquilizer gun loaded and pointing directly at Robin, who rolled across the floor to close the distance between himself and the new opponent. He jumped up quickly and slammed his bo staff against the man's face, effectively knocking him to the ground. His grasp slipped on the gun and Robin kicked it away before cracking his staff against the man's helmet once more so he lay dazed. Lex watched with disinterest.

“Now, now Robin. Let’s keep this civil,” he chided.

“Civil sounds fun. But I’ve never been granted the opportunity to kick your ass before.”

Luthor frowned. “Don’t hold your breath, brat.” And with the man's cue, Robin and Thirteen startled to hear more glass break from the windows in the adjacent bedrooms and living area, and thirty more men swung into the penthouse, armed and wearing armor. They piled into the main living room and circled the pair, aiming the tranquilizers and awaiting word to fire.

But Thirteen had a question first. He ignored the men's interest, even as he noticed Robin stiffen in anticipation next to him, and instead he hissed, “How did you find me?” When Robin had brought up the possibility of Lex hiding a tracker in the clone's body, he had become filled with terror. But these fears were diminished when Batman said he checked for trackers and the results back back clean. So Lex Luthor standing in the safe house living room didn't make sense to Thirteen.

“You didn’t really think I’d just let you run away, right? You were time consuming and incredibly expensive. And like I told you yesterday-you are finally a success. Imagine my surprise when I found you ended up saving a woman in Gotham City, home of the bats,” he motioned toward Robin. “You even took a photo with her, how gregarious of you. Superboy huh?”

Thirteen grit his teeth. “I didn’t pick it. But I’ll admit, its better than your insulting number game.”

“Don’t be ungrateful. I said I’d give you a name if you followed orders. And did you?” Thirteen looked away, ashamed, and Lex answered for him, “No, you did not. I found you because I have eyes everywhere, across this entire globe. And I will always be able to find you.” The warning was heavily implied in his voice, and Luthor proudly raised his chin in the air.

“You cannot take him.” Robin stood firm, bo staff clasped in tight fists.

“Timothy Drake,” the man stated, and Robin grit his teeth in response, “while I usually find your brash attitude charming and entirely fitting for the colors you wear, trust me, the last one would be so proud to see who is filling those pixie boots now, I’m afraid I do not have the patience for it today. My work is coming back with me. And there is nothing you can do to change that.”

Thirteen looked at Robin-now Timothy Drake-and he was pleased to see Timothy only lowered himself further into a fighting stance, bearing his teeth in preparation and asking, “You really want to fight Batman today, Lex?”

“I won’t be fighting Bruce Wayne.” Robin did jerk back just a little at that, a movement that Luthor noticed with a sigh. “It’s fine, runt. The clone was going to know you and your mentor’s true identities soon enough. Aren’t you aware that you are standing next to your future’s very own Superman?” Robin blinked in what Thirteen could only assume was surprise, shown mirrored in the mask lenses. “He can hardly join the team if he doesn’t know the coworkers. Now... I know Bruce left approximately half an hour ago, and he was either driving or flying, though I’m betting on the latter. If he drove, I know he was pushing 90 on those side roads that call for 35 tops; we both know how he gets when his kiddo needs help. Or wait, maybe you don’t know that." He waved to Robin. "Either way, if he is flying he will be traveling much quicker than 90 to get back to Blüdhaven. Yes, Tim, I am aware where Bruce went, who do you think sent him there? I am sure you managed to contact him as soon as you heard us in here; and for safety in assumption, let’s just agree that he flew. So I know I still have a minimum twenty minutes left, and that is being very generous to that jet of his and the blasé of air traffic cops. Now let's see here. Diana’s absent. Clark’s obviously absent or I cannot imagine you two would be stuck housing his degenerate." Now he waved to Thirteen. "I know Barbara has called for a whole parade of supers to come and rescue the two of you, but I also know they will not make it in time. The poor excuse for a knock-off magician’s assistant is coming here, but even that gives me five more minutes while she still finishes up her assignment in Bora Bora and then conjures the magic to teleport here. And I plan on doing this well under five minutes.” Robin opened his mouth for a desperate response, but before he could make a sound, Luthor held up a hand. “No, Tim. You are finished talking. Now, we fight.”

The men advanced toward the pair and several others came in through the same broken windows for dramatic appearances. The sounds of darts firing and flying through the air encircled the room. Robin fell silent in concentration as he twirled the bo staff, knocking the flying weapons out of their trajectory. At the first sign of movement, the clone grabbed a couch pillow and used it as a shield, though he wished heavily for something more stable. And with that wish came an explosion of feathers as the pillow took on too many darts and it shredded in his hands. The clone felt the tug of the warm blanket around his chest, and he focused on this feeling that has proven to assist him in success in his most recent past. Several tranquilizer darts hit Thirteen, but he was startled and excited to see they simply bounced off of his skin, falling to the ground with a pathetic clink. Lex smiled at this and nodded, seemingly thrilled to find another talent his experiment seemed to posses.

“Can you fight?” Tim whispered to Thirteen when he saw his friend was conveniently impenetrable to the darts. “I know you got that guy in the alley. Can you do that again?” Thirteen nodded and his surroundings turned to the color of rusted metal, the greys of Tim's hoodie becoming maroon in the waning sunlight. “Whoa, not at me!” Robin yelped and swiveled to press his back against the clone’s so they no longer faced one another. “Do that at them!”

Lex’s attention was immediately captured by the clone’s glowing eyes and he stepped forward, stating aloud, “Now that is intriguing. I’ll have to remember to write it down. Do they produce lasers too?”

“You’ll just have to find out,” Robin spat back and he lunged at the nearest soldier, knocking his staff against the man's helmet and simultaneously landing a ferocious kick into the abdomen of the one next to him. When lasers still weren't produced, Thirteen believed it was time to turn this into a hands-on scenario, and he landed an almighty punch into the face of a terrified soldier that faced him. The clone hissed with mild regret at the resulting crunch of bone, but when the man dropped to his knees and only clasped at his broken nose, Thirteen found that innocuous enough for his conscience, and he turned to the next unfortunate fighter. When he had dropped a total of four men, he turned to make sure Tim was fairing well. He was bewildered to see Tim surrounded by the unconscious bodies of no less than ten men as he was working on the next three at once, smacking them with his staff, landing heavy punched to their torsos, and swiping their legs out from under them with quickly-placed kicks. Thirteen's eyebrows raised and he found he was smiling while he watched Robin work, feeling simply dazed.

Tim caught his eye and flashed a wide grin, encouraging Thirteen to keep going. The clone turned back around with a raised fist to fight the next soldier but instead, he found himself immediately facing Donovan. With a small gasp, he dropped his fist and found himself stepping forward automatically, with Dabney's name frozen on his lips. The scientist smiled at Thirteen, eyes shining with relief and reflecting the feelings found in the clone's. Thirteen raised his hand in wave, something he had wanted to do since his leave only one day prior, and his chest felt light as Donovan's hand also raised.

Too late, he saw the man was holding a dangerous black box. The box clicked and buzzed, and Donovan aimed it right at Robin before he pulled the trigger. Thirteen moved in response, but he was too late and fell victim to watching as the detachable taser released from the box and landed home pinching Robin's thigh. Tim had his back to the clone and his fight as he was preoccupied with several of his own, and he had just thrown an elbow when he felt his leg jerk and he fell to the ground with a frustrated yelp. Even on the ground and gasping as his body moved with the shocks, he jabbed at the soldier's legs with his bo staff before someone finally managed to kick it from his hands.

Thirteen watched frozen with speechless surprise as Lex approached Robin, knelt beside him, and stated plainly, "I know where you bat's keep your toys." He reached an arm out and opened one of the several pouches on Robin's belt. "Clone," he snapped, and though he hated himself for responding to such a call, Thirteen met Lex's eyes as the man pulled out a small black box. "And what do we have here?" Luthor dead-panned for dramatics that simultaneously seemed interesting and boring. Tim tried to shake his head no, but his muscles were still contracting forcefully, reminding the clone of his own EMS sessions, a phrase that he learned from Donovan and he had read about in his file. Luthor opened the box and Thirteen felt as though his heard plummeted from his chest, dropping low to the ground and dissolving in the floor beneath him. That sickly glowing green illuminated brightly from the box, already sending waves of sickness and pain through his body. He took a step back, moving unwillingly toward Donovan, as Lex poured the content into his hand; as expected, it was the small green stone. Thirteen felt betrayed, twice in a row now by both of the people he felt were on his side. He looked at Robin with wide eyes and shaking hands, and Robin's gaze, as assumed through the mask, was glued to the clone. Tim opened his mouth, but Luthor spoke first and over him in volume, "Don't you see now? These people are not your friends, and they will only hurt you given the opportunity."

"Like you did," the clone stated plainly, and he crossed his arms. Though he wished to come across as apathetic, he very much did care. He felt hurt that Robin held the green stone on his very person this entire time.

Lex and Tim were both displeased with this answer. Tim spoke out in a shaking voice saying, "No, please, we are nothing like him-"

But Luthor was stating, "You and I had our difficulties yesterday, I admit. But you were misbehaving and ignoring direct orders, and that simply won't do. But you have seen the world and you had your fun, and this scuffle has gone on long enough, I am afraid we really must be going now." He held the stone up in the air, presenting it to Thirteen who groaned in response and fell down to his knees with weakness and pain. The men wielding tranquilizer guns stepped forward, three surrounding the clone and one stepping forward to Robin.

“Him too?” The man asked Luthor, pointing the tranquilizer gun at Tim, who matched his question with a fierce growl.

Lex considered Robin with a bored eyebrow raised, and then he shrugged halfheartedly. “Hell, why not? The drug is cheap and the runt deserves a nice headache when he wakes up. Let's be generous though and give him a double. Keep the Bat busy with this one for some bonus time.”

Robin flinched when two needles found their way in his thigh opposite the location of the dying taser; it was a placement generous enough considering the elevated dose they fed him. And with one last ditch effort and utilizing his final shred of hope, Tim screamed out, “Superman!” The last syllable fell off into a breathless sound, and he pinched at his own arms to encourage his mind precious final seconds to contact Batman again. But all was lost, and his eyes drifted shut as he felt the weight of failure on his chest.

“Don’t get your hopes up, clone.” Luthor warned. “He may have called for Clark but believe me, that alien lets everyone down in the end. Why subject yourself to that kind of disappointment?” Thirteen opened his mouth to retort, begging his body to allow him a final snap of attitude before he was reluctantly dragged back to that forsaken laboratory. He had tried so hard to avoid this very moment, he had fought incredibly to ensure that he would not be forced back into unconsciousness and left under the demanding thumb of Lex Luthor. And though he hated to admit it, he had become comfortable in this safe house with Robin-a safe house though, his mind reeled at the implication, what a joke. He never would have guessed that the one he had grown so fond of would be carrying the horrible kryptonite stone the entire time he was sitting next to Thirteen, while they watched the beginning of his favorite movie and ate crackers. While Robin cut his hair and showed him the pictures on his camera. The whole time, Robin was carrying around the clone's death. Not just Robin now, but he was also Tim, and Thirteen only learned his actual name because of Lex Luthor. Just like the mask, it was another way the people he thought to be his friends kept him at a firm distance. He sucked in a shaking gasp and raised a hand to his face to cover his leaking eyes. Batman and Robin had both shown him such kindness, an amount that he didn't realize could exist and be directed toward him all at once.

Thirteen remembered again with newfound clarity just how Robin had reached for his staff in the parking garage, how he had become anxious then and needed that just-in-case defense. Thirteen wondered if he deserved to have the people around him carrying a direct key-card to his pain and suffering. He wondered if that was what he had coming because he escaped his confinement, threw and hit a scientist, hit and threw an attempted mugger, scared Robin. All things bad, just like Lex had told him that he was. He needed to apologize to Robin, beg for forgiveness for scaring him into thinking he had to carry around that rock. But he also wanted Tim to apologize to him, express his guilt in carrying around something that dangerous.

But Tim couldn't hear him and when the clone lowered his hand and opened his mouth to speak out to his anyway, Lex simply stated: “No, Thirteen. It is time to accept your consequences.”

And in his weakened state provided to the soldiers by the kryptonite, a sharp needle was embedded in his neck. And all was dark once more.

Chapter Text

Thirteen awoke with a harsh cough rattling his rib cage, and his mind was reeling with an ache that reminded him of knives piercing a loaf of bread. For a blissful moment, he forgot the horrors he had just witnessed. But the memories came back to him with a tsunami wave. He remembered watching a movie and eating with Robin-Tim, he reminded himself-and then Tim had told him that something was wrong. And something was definitely wrong. Thirteen sucked in a shaking breath as the full picture came to him; Luthor had come for him, and he arrived with Donovan whom the clone had trusted deep in his heart. But Donovan shot Tim and the clone was put to sleep. Thirteen felt weak and exhausted, as though he were running on fumes even while lying in rest. He wanted to rub at his eyes to relieve the heavy weight of sleep, but when he pulled on his arms he found he couldn’t move his hands, and that was enough for his eyes to snap open with a frightened gasp.

The dim lights of the laboratory welcomed him back with sticking hands and Thirteen felt grief choke him. He was lying down on a padded table in the center of the room, right over the very place Luthor had donned him with the burning kryptonite necklace the day before. In his panic, he felt that terrifying fire dance at his chest and tease him in his vulnerability. Tunnel vision consumed him and he yelped at the sight of thick, heavy bands restraining his ankles and wrists to an incredibly thin mattress while several irritating springs dug into his back. In his discomfort, he couldn't help but compare this set up to the bed he had in the penthouse, and his heart ached further. He hoped the Superman t-shirt he tucked under his pillow for safe keeping was waiting for him to escape Lex's grasp once more, because he needed to escape this horrible laboratory and his apparent destiny of mind control.

His eyes roamed across the quiet room until they landed on the seat just next to his bed, occupied by a very smug-appearing Lex Luthor. “Welcome back.”

Thirteen clenched his jaw tight enough to hear the creaking just to avoid screeching out with agony. The clone noticed Luthor was alone in the room, and he wanted to hurt the man. He wanted to make him pay for all of his wrong doings. With a hiss dripping in hatred, Thirteen bared his teeth and the laboratory walls turned red as his eyes glowed brilliant with the color of flame. But Lex didn’t move or even look startled. This only angered Thirteen further, and he concentrated firmly on finding that warmth in his chest and pushing it out through his eyes, similar to the way he broke himself out of the tube the first time. But the world merely remained red to match his growing fury, and whatever force was diminishing his strength was also smothering the warmth.

After spending tedious energy on useless straining, he panted with frustration and closed his eyes in defeat, now painting the insides of his eyelids with bright red.

“You can burn those embers all you want, but you don’t have Superman’s laser vision,” Luthor reported softly, nearly in a whisper. At Thirteen’s confused frown, he added, “I told you that you weren’t ready yet. You have a healthy amount of telekinesis running through that body, specifically tactile telekinesis allowing you to emulate the alien’s abilities. But you do not posses his Kryptonian specialties at the moment.”

Thirteen's brows furrowed, and he opened his eyes to peer at the man. “My blanket?”

Lex chuckled. “Sure, if that’s what you wish to call it. It’s more of a protective force field though, to be honest. You’ll be happy to hear that those glowing eyes are thought to be great improvement from your departure yesterday, because we can probably assume that if you could do that right after you woke up, you would have. So you will likely have those alien powers soon enough. But you need more time to develop first.”

“Lex, what happened to my strength? Why can't I break these?” Thirteen demanded and brought his gaze to his straps. He was tired of hearing about the additional time he apparently required, because that only nudged him closer toward the horrible tube and forfeiture of his will. “What did you do to me?”

Luthor's eyes flicked toward a table several yards from the bed, where a small air diffuser rested, bubbling softly and glowing with LED colors that changed in interesting patterns, throwing their reflections on the wall and floor nearest to it. “That diffuser is keeping a rather mild dose of kryptonite flowing through the room's air.”

Thirteen’s jaw fell and his eyes widened at the diffuser, a device appearing so innocent with its changing colors, but producing his true restraints. “You... you are poisoning me?”

“I said mild dose. It is just enough to keep you compliant, and probably give you an annoying headache. Am I right about the last part?”

Luthor was right about that last part. The clone wanted to mitigate the throbbing behind his temples and the ache that crawled from the back of his scalp all of the way up to his forehead. But Thirteen did not want to admit to defeat just yet, and he decided he did not want to answer that question. He chose to level the man with a troubled glare instead. “This isn’t compliant, this is trapped.” Thirteen gave his arms another experimental tug, but they were tied tight and his intention remained fruitless. His body was chilled and he shivered with effort to keep warm. Late due to his initial surprise and frustrations, he realized now that he had been stripped to his underwear during his time unconscious, and he let out an angry cry at that. Lex’s overall features didn’t change, but his eyes appeared slightly regretful at the sound.

“I’m truly sorry about your clothes,” Lex stated in a soft voice again. “I don’t mean for you to feel exposed, but you’re going to have an impressive growth spurt back in the tube, and keeping those on would only serve as a hindrance.”

The clone shook his head hurriedly. “Those clothes weren’t mine. I have to give them back.”

“I already sent the circus brat his old t-shirt. Everything else, they will not miss. All of that is fine, and you do not need to stress over it. Trust me.”

“Trust you?” Thirteen growled, though he was confused as to who the circus brat was, hoping he would be granted the opportunity to ask Tim about that later. He yanked all four limbs to emphasize his point to Lex. “How could I possibly do that? You’re a horrible, despicable-”

“That’s enough, Thirteen-” Lex warned, voice slightly raised in volume

“That’s not my name.” The clone interjected, but Luthor continued, pretending he didn’t hear.

“I know you must have become close with your new friends just overnight, but you will see them both again. Possibly as soon as this upcoming weekend if you work diligently. I’m going to need you to lose the attitude though, it is entirely unacceptable. Child, you had your fun, but now it is time to work.” Thirteen huffed, and rolled his eyes. He had become close to Batman and Robin, and he wished to see them again as his own self, not as the grown manipulated monster he would become if Luthor succeeded in his goal. When the clone did not speak up, Luthor continued, “Do you know why I named this project Cadmus?”

“No,” Thirteen snapped, and tugged on the restraints again, but to no prevail. He did not want to stay here any longer, especially not with an obvious upcoming lecture.

“No, of course not.” Luthor sighed with condescension, trailing his finger along the thin mattress with apparent boredom. “I suppose it’s my own fault if you don’t know about Greek mythology though. We can get you a book next time you come out, but you can consider this lesson a free, though simultaneously priceless, one. Cadmus was a Phoenician warrior who was said to have battled dragons and create an army from the teeth of the carcass alone. He was a man built to fight monsters and save the suffering. Just like you were made with these same goals in mind.”

Thirteen huffed at the man with a look of unmoving. “I don’t think I’ll be battling dragons any time soon.”

“You haven’t the faintest what this universe holds, or what part you will play in it. I think you are deflecting from the point because you are scared. Scared of what though? Isn’t this a noble life that you would want to lead? To serve those weaker than you just like the great Cadmus? People will need you someday, and you need to be ready to help them.”

“I can help people without your horrible mind control part-yes, I know all about that; I stole my file off your desk. Terribly dry read by the way; you should spice it up with a damn exclamation point or something, Lex. If Superman can still fight bad people and save the good with his own mind in tact, that means that I can too because I am his clone.”

“Thirteen, you’re being ridiculous. It is not even that dramatic of a change-”

“My name isn’t Thirteen!” The clone screeched, and the room began to shake. In his weakened state, the effects were subtle but still present in the light of his fury. A few papers shuffled and the pens rattled, but it still wasn't enough for his bonds to break.

Lex shook his head with an arm outstretched to prove his own point. “Don't you see? You are too unstable. This is why you should have listened to me and gone back into your tube to be aged up. You are too young and emotional, too childish. It is only getting in the way of my intentions for you.”

“Your intentions of mind control,” Thirteen hissed and Lex rolled his eyes.

“My intentions of you saving the world, my plans of you being the best you can possibly be.”

“But I can still do that without you getting to control me. It isn't fair and I refuse to act as your stupid puppet.”

“Oh please. Just look at you. Would you even trust yourself out on these streets? Around innocent people who cannot fight against your true strength? It’s a miracle alone that you didn’t hurt the bats or that woman in Gotham, but think of everyone you have hurt and how little effort such destruction required. You are brand new to this world; you need me.”

The clone growled at this, because strapped down and alienated from his friends and from Donovan, he had a difficult time believing Luthor was wrong. Though Luthor didn't know about the man in the alley, Thirteen had hurt him. And he definitely knew about the scientist and the soldiers he hurt. But the idea that he could need someone as horrible and controlling as Lex Luthor gripped as his throat and brought a mist to his eyes. Instead of fighting this battle, he brought up another and asked, “Where is Robin?”

“The kid’s fine. Zatanna got there as soon as we left and she contacted medical personnel for him. And I am sure Wayne has reached him by now. I need you to focus on what I am saying now though. You don't need to spare him any thoughts until we have-”

Thirteen groaned loudly, interrupting the man and tugging at his restraints again. “No! I shouldn’t be here, I need to find Superman. They called for him.” The man only shook his head, and the clone continued, “Where is Donovan? I want to speak to him now. He will listen to me!”

“I think the two of you have had enough communication.”

“What?” Thirteen stiffened, feeling a chill travel up his spine. “Lex, that isn’t fair, he’s-" but he stopped, cutting himself off and snapping his mouth shut with a small frown. He wished to keep the information of his human donor from Luthor. Even though the man was clearly the one that recorded and redacted that information, it still felt like it only belonged to Thirteen, and he wanted to have that privacy from the man who kept threatening him.

“He’s what?" Luthor urged with a frustrated grimace. "Far too soft on you? That’s certainly accurate enough. If it brings you any comfort, he will be allowed back down here after you are put back to sleep. And you can see him again tomorrow after you're all grown up.”

“I didn't mean that he is soft,” the clone snapped with a huff, and privacy be damned, he wished to see the look on Luthor's face when the man realized that the alien's clone figured out that redacted piece of information all on his own. “He’s my... I know he’s my human DNA donor.”

Lex appeared genuinely surprised at that, but not in the defeated way Thirteen was hoping for. “Dabney?” He laughed quietly, shaking his head and patting Thirteen’s knee. “You are sorely mistaken. I am sure he was gentle with you, but I did not use that man’s DNA in making you. He’s competent enough as a scientist but you received your genetic composition from someone who far surpasses Donovan in intelligence.”

Thirteen's brows furrowed because this information simply couldn’t be right. Donovan had been so nice to him, and the man said he could live with him. He spoke to the clone when he first woke up, and he answered Thirteen's questions even though he was in no position to ask with words. Donovan provided him with comfort when he first experienced his own sadness. He had found relief and joy in his assumption that Donovan was his legal parent, because that meant the kind man could also be his legal guardian when he escaped this retched laboratory. But this was ripped from him with Luthor's denial, and Thirteen wished more than anything that he would have just remained silent and not brought up speaking to Donovan at all. When he finally found his words again, he whispered, “Then who?”

Lex leveled him with a watchful gaze, before sitting up straighter and answering, “Me.”

Thirteen couldn’t breathe.

His mouth dried and his vision blurred with tears that begged for release. This information was absolutely detrimental to hear and it was too large of a pill to swallow on his own. The knowledge that this evil man’s own genetics were flowing through Thirteen’s veins terrified him, and he felt his world was shattered into countless pieces that would never be able to come together again. Feelings of inadequacy and fear for turning evil flooded his mind. The clone was stunned silent with his internal turmoil, and this moral dilemma shook him to his core. His breathing became too shallow and when this influenced his eyesight to worsen yet, he tried to make himself suck in the cool air similar to when he had first taken his own deep, gentle breaths. He needed to find his voice again because he needed to respond. He could see Luthor was still watching the clone and waiting for a reaction, but Thirteen did not want to provide him with one.

“What a bummer.” Thirteen finally responded aloud. “Will I lose all of my hair too?”

Lex chuckled and wagged his pointer finger at the clone. “There’s that defense mechanism again. People are going to hear that humor and think you are a child.” The clone rolled his eyes and shook his head with disappointment. "Is that what you want? To be treated like a bratty child?" He paused, but Thirteen didn't answer, remaining silent instead as his chin wobbled. “Do you have anything else to say?” Luthor asked him sincerely with a tone of kindness that only made the clone angrier.

“Not to you. I am supposed to find Superman.”

“Enough!” Lex yelled. “I have heard enough about Robin and Donovan and Superman. Enough. It is just you and I right now.” Thirteen scoffed and rolled his eyes, turning his head away so he was no longer facing the man. “Good god child, you are so incredibly frustrating." Luthor paused to take several deep breaths, catching the attention of the intrigued clone. "Alright," he finally stated, and stood up from his chair, walking over to one of the desks while Thirteen watched suspiciously. Luthor bent over the table and picked up a breathing tube that Thirteen was well-versed in recognizing from a line up.

“No," Thirteen cried out as he understood what was coming next, trying to kick out with his restrained legs. "I don't want you to do it!"

But Luthor spared him a warning look and brought the medical tools to the small table beside Thirteen. “Nothing to fret over, I’ve intubated plenty of people in my years, and I have no doubt that yours will be just as easy."

"Lex, please. Can we call Donovan?" Thirteen begged, but the man shook his head with a warning of turning up the diffuser if he didn't behave.

The following moments were excruciating for the clone as he laid helpless and sobbed heavily. He gave up taking it with a brave face as soon as Luthor pried his mouth open to begin the procedure, and before he knew it, he was no longer able to speak. What made it worse for Thirteen was that Luthor talked throughout the entire procedure, murmuring his exact motions into a small microphone clipped to his collar and making notes to add to his file later. The microphone was attached to a box in his laboratory coat pocket via a small wire that ran down his front. The clone wished to reach out and tear the device from his coat pocket, but his struggles were met with more warnings and tisks of the man's tongue.

"See? All finished with that one. Wasn't so bad, was it? I do not know why you were being so dramatic about it," Luthor announced and clapped his hands after taping the breathing tube in place at his mouth. "Alright, kiddo. I'm going to turn up the diffuser just so we can pierce through that invulnerable skin of yours. Ready?"

Thirteen's tears quickened as he shook his head, but that didn't matter. And soon, he heard more rapid bubbling from the diffuser alongside the urge to wail. Thirteen felt ill and grief as the effects of the green stone tugged on his stomach.

"Exposure to kryptonite increased to allow the passage of needle through the clone's skin," Lex stated to himself, and he pushed an IV needle into the crease at his elbow. "Intravenous needle placed and fluids will be administered. Percutaneous endoscopic gastronomy procedure has commenced. Hey," he whispered, placing a hand on the clone's forehead in an attempt to be comforting. "In your time away, did you happen to consume anything? Food or drink, anything like that?" Thirteen remained silent in defiance until Luthor urged him to answer with a pinch to his sore arm. Reluctantly, he nodded, and Luthor hummed in acknowledgement before speaking into the microphone once again. Thirteen squeezed his eyes shut as Lex placed the feeding tube, panting out in pain as much as he could around the breathing tube. He was being loaded up with plastic once more, and he wished to simply dissolve into the sharp, uncomfortable mattress.

He wanted to cry for Batman and Robin. He wanted Donovan to stand beside him. He wanted Superman.

Thirteen was too dazed and dizzy to notice when Lex released his limbs from the restraints and helped him up from the mattress. His legs wobbled uselessly and he groaned when his headache turned worse, but Lex dragged him to the tube, allowing the clone to lean on him as needed. Thirteen's vision finally cleared when the glass door of the tube closed shut before him and he was once again trapped in the worst place he had known. In his clarity provided by a lessening of his exposure to the kryptonite, he panicked and threw his shoulder into the glass. But he was still weak and the glass was so thick. And with a press of a button, the tube was being filled with the liquid gel solution that felt freezing to his skin now that had known the warmth of cloth.

He cried out again when the solution climbed past his knees and he banged his fists on the side of the tank, pleading for his release, but Lex wasn't even looking at him now, turned around and recording information in a notebook. The chilling gel startled him as it reached his lower back, and he tried to beg around the tube. When it tickled his chin, he lifted his arms to sob helplessly into his hands. He was alone here, too weak to save himself and ignored by the one person that could actually hear him. He was doomed to be but a shell controlled by Lex Luthor, and he would become practically nonexistent as soon as he fell asleep.

His ears were submerged when he heard a low boom travel from several yards above the lab, perking his attention and drawing his gaze from his hands. Lex had paused in his writing too, back now erect and appearing to listen too. Another large noise sounded and Thirteen's tank shook around him. He tried to brace himself on the edges but his fingers slipped off the chilled metal uselessly. Lex was facing him now, a frown painted across his lips as he looked like he wanted to chastise the clone for something over which he had no control. He didn't know who the intruder was or what was happening to shake the earth.

“LEX!” A voice bellowed from above them, and Lex became fear-struck as his eyes widened to a circumference the clone would have found comical if he wasn’t also shaking at the power behind the approaching tone.

And with one final tremble of the earth, a fist tore through the elevator door, and the shrill sound of metal shredding filled the room, creating a chill that crawled up Thirteen's spine and gripped at his throat. But the fist was connected to a blue sleeve, and Thirteen felt himself move toward the glass door with interest. The elevator door was ripped from the wall and it landed on the bare floor with a sharp explosion of sound. Before Thirteen or Lex could react, two fierce eyes glowed red in the dark elevator shaft.

And Superman flew in.

The alien stopped just inside and studied the laboratory, gaze roaming across the room and pausing for an extra moment at the clone before his scan continued. His eyes reached the diffuser spitting out kryptonite and warning flames were produced at his eyeballs, dancing across his vision. Even Thirteen could see Superman was weakened by the green stone, but he remained driven by his fury. Lex spoke up, yelling out to the intruder and asking how he was able to find them through the lead-coated walls, but faster than the eye could catch, the alien zipped across the room and stopped next to the man, holding him up with a tight fist closed around his neck. Lex's shoes dangled pathetically above the ground.

“What is this?” Superman bellowed, words distorted through the glass and gel before reaching Thirteen's ears, but elevated enough in volume to cause the clone to shrink back apprehensively. “Why have you done this?"

“Why?” Lex parroted in a choked voice, glaring at Superman until his grip loosened to allow the man to speak. “Because you will fail these people. You have placed yourself on the highest pedestal and billions will be forced to watch as you fall from it, taking all of humanity with you.” Superman snarled and dropped Luthor, allowing the man to fall back to his feet. He coughed and tugged at the collar by his throat, sparing a glare for the alien before continuing. “I have ensured a back up plan for when you fail, Clark. A plan that will far surpass being you, because he isn’t just you-he is also me. Behold, the future.”

Superman turned back to the tank, considering Thirteen. His fist reached out again and he lifted Lex back off the ground with a rough grasp on the front of his shirt. "Why are you threatening him with kryptonite?"

"Because he needed to learn," Lex hissed, and Thirteen watched with absolute stupor as Superman dropped the man again and approached his tank. Lex's ankle rolled out from under him and he fell to the ground with a hiss. From the ground, Lex looked up to see Superman's trek toward the clone and he warned, “That one is dangerous. You cannot take him with you. He’s of my making, and he belongs here at Cadmus with me and my scientists.”

“Your hubris is staggering, Lex. That boy is coming with me.” Superman reached the tank and leveled the clone with a complicated gaze. Thirteen lifted his palm to the glass, pressing his hand to the chilled surface and waiting for the alien to return the gesture.

With a sudden growl, Superman’s hands shot out, reaching at the upper corner of the glass door, fingers shattering the glass with effort that seemed to be measured on a microscale for the powerful being, and the clone flapped his arms hurriedly to find support while he was suspended in the liquid gel. With one easy sweep, Superman tore the glass door from his hinges and Thirteen fell forward as the solution poured from the tube. His legs buckled under him when he landed on the tube's ground, and Superman caught the clone with his hands placed securely under Thirteen’s armpits, leaving his arm dangling useless to the side. The clone wanted to speak, but even if he was in the position to form words, the alien’s impossibly furious gaze would have silenced him. Superman turned him to the side to examine his head, and a roar passed through his lips.

“Lex,” Thirteen became frozen at the tone, and he saw Luthor stiffen from the corner of his eye. “You tagged him?” The clone blushed, a gesture only present courtesy of his human DNA, and his gaze fell in shame. Like cattle, Robin had told him.

"Wait a moment, Clark. He does not belong to you. He must stay here at Cadmus; he isn't ready yet!"

“You cannot stop me. I am leaving with him. It would be wise to stay out of my way.” Superman carefully held him up with one arm tight around his waist while the other slowly threaded around the tubes and wires that continued to bind him to the tube. A tear trickled down the clone's cheek as he found himself finally positioned with the one he had planned on meeting, but unable to speak or even stand on his own. Much less, fly. Superman tore at the tubes at their ends nearer to the tube so they did not tug at the clone and disturb whatever was left of his comfort, and then he bent down to position an arm behind his knees, and the alien picked Thirteen up. Superman held the smaller close to his chest protectively, and he turned to face Lex once more before spitting in a low, dangerous voice, "I will be back. And you better not be here."

And with a flash of light, Thirteen was carried from the laboratory, suddenly finding himself traveling through the elevator shaft and exiting the building through a suspicious hole in the tall cieling. Back in the sky again, he inhaled deep; the air whistled through the thin tube, and he closed his eyes with relief. Superman got him out. It didn't matter if the alien didn't want him, because he was free once more.

Superman traveled several miles before stopping on a rooftop with Cadmus far out of sight. He gently laid the clone on the wet brick, and sat back to give him the allotted room required to sit up and find his relaxation. Thirteen pushed himself up slowly, looking first at Superman, and then down at the horrible tubes protruding from his body. "I want to help," Superman stated, and he waited for Thirteen to nod before he moved forward again, where he removed the clone's IV needle and the feeding tube with care that tugged at Thirteen's chest. "Now this horrible thing," Superman whispered and began to slowly peel the tape away from the clone's lips. He then pulled the breathing tube out and with a pained wince, the clone found he really was free of the horrors.

With this newfound peace and space for movement, Thirteen found he could feel the telekinesis in his chest once more, and he floated up from the roof to face Superman. The alien met him in the air and they flew up together until they were embedded between the clouds with privacy. Thirteen's face burned pink, and he firmly planted his fists on his hips, resembling Peter Pan. After a breath, he released them and his arms fell limp to his side before he threaded his fingers together behind his back. But then his hands returned to his hips. “Hi,” he finally whispered.

And a small smile spread across the alien’s face. “Hi." He ticked his head to the side curiously. "I like your hair. I can't imagine Luthor did that for you.”

A wide grin flowered on the clone’s cheeks, and he reached up to touch his hair that had become sticky once more in the gel solution. He shook his head no to confirm that Luthor did not do that for him, and he found sudden excitement at the chance of talking to Superman about the person who did cut his hair-Robin. Thirteen no longer had his folder handy, as it was probably still deserted at the penthouse, but he took a deep breath and dove into the information anyway. He told Superman that he was a clone made from the alien's DNA and human DNA-though he conveniently skipped over the identity of his human donor. Lex had eluded to it himself in the laboratory, but Thirteen believed Superman was too livid to hear his words. He told Superman about his first escape and how he met Batman and Robin, and then how Lex took him again. He was slower to share the information, but with a large inhale for good luck, he told the alien about the attempted mind control that would have ended his life. Superman listened patiently, nodding when appropriate, and averting his gaze when Thirteen needed to wipe at his leaking eyes.

When at last the clone was finished, rejoicing that Superman had busted him out of the 'creepy cold basement,' as Thirteen put it, Superman studied him before asking with a smile, “What can you do?”

Thirteen grinned proudly, and punched the air with excitement. “I’m super strong,” he chirped, still floating but positioning himself into a fighter’s stance and raising his fists to his face, standing with his legs wider like Robin had recommended, before releasing a few jabs. “And this,” he motioned to his eyes that had turned red for show. “And this!” Now he reached for the warmth and used his tactile telekinesis to poke Clark’s chest and give him a gentle shove that sent him flying back. At the sudden understanding that he had just pushed Superman-the almighty alien who saved him from his capture, his eyes widened in anticipation. But Superman only chuckled kindheartedly and floated back to him, and Thirteen relaxed. But his smile did not return yet. "Hey, Superman...?"

"My name is Kal-El. You can call me that, or Clark. Or still Superman if you wish. Whatever would make you comfortable. But my name is Kal."

"Kal-El..." a shy smile appeared again before vanishing as he continued. "Thank you for getting me out of there." Superman nodded slowly and accepted his thanks. The clone paused for a short moment, eyes glazing over and a deep frown reappearing. He leaned closer to Clark and whispered, "Kal... why does Lex Luthor hate me?"

Kal-El sighed, eyes lowering and turning away to face the open sky. “He doesn’t hate you. He hates me. He is envious of what we can do because of our kryptonian powers. He will never be satisfied in his own self.” Clark faced Thirteen, and he placed a gentle hand on his cheek. “But his own self image is not a reflection of you, and it will never shadow your gifts and potential.”

“I already messed up so much. I have hurt people, just like Lex said. I think he is right about me, that I’m dangerous without him. He said that I need him. I almost used laser vision last night... or I thought I almost used it. According to Luthor, your gifts do not exist in me yet because I stopped growing too soon.”

“The fact that you are aware of you strength proves you deserve this. And you deserve your freedom.”

With an explosion of honesty, because Thirteen craved that comfort in being reassured that he would be okay, he admitted, “But Lex made me, and I have his DNA. What if I will become bad just like he is?”

Superman smiled and tilted his head to the side. “You have a good, strong heart. You will not allow Lex Luthor to cause you to stray from your own morals.”

"I don't think I know what my morals are."

“We will find them together. Listen for a moment.” And Thirteen did as he was told, closing his eyes and listening. At first his own soft breathing and his heartbeat in sync with the elder’s next to him were the only vibrations he found. But he slowly began to hear a low sound, a plane engine flying miles away, followed quickly by the soft chatter of the passengers. A woman was telling her friend about work, and a child was playing a video game on his chirping console. He heard loud cheering from a ball park yards below as a metal bat struck the ball. He heard their happiness and health, and he listened to the laughter. But other sounds crept into the mix, that of sirens and a woman crying. Children were sobbing, and men were weeping, and so many people were begging for help. Thirteen gasped at the sorrow, snapping his eyes open and looking to Superman with a pleading gaze. “Do you hear them crying? None of these messes are of your own making. But you hear them all. It is up to you to choose what you do about it.” Thirteen’s throat felt like it was closing. He bit his lip as the immense feeling of overwhelming responsibility crushed him. As though reading this on the clone’s face, Clark continued, “You are not expected to fix this world, but if you want to help these people, listening is an excellent start.”

The voices cried.

“It’s too much...” tears of preemptive defeat fell down the clone’s cheek and he lowered his head as the screams embedded their way deep into his skin. “It’s horrible.”

“You are not alone,” Kal-El reached out and placed a gentle hand on Thirteen’s own, and he held it softly. “You will never be alone; I am here with you.”

Chapter Text

A particularly strangled cry rang out from far below the pair, and the clone lifted his head to look at Superman with wide eyes. The alien ticked an eyebrow up, hearing the sound himself, and he jerked his head to the side in the direction of the plea. Still gripping Thirteen’s hand from providing insurances that the clone would never be alone, Superman took off flying fast and carrying Thirteen with him until the latter picked up his own matching pace. The wind was lightly whipping at his cheeks and shuffling his hair, and after the initial shock of sudden movement dissipated, a small laugh spilled from Thirteen’s mouth. Kal-El turned to face him, appearing surprised but wearing a small smile of his own. Thirteen laughed again, and again until the noise poured from him and he felt truly gleeful. He was free from Lex Luthor, he was with Superman, and they were flying together. More than that, they were going to save people together. He felt as though every expectation he had set up for himself was finally coming to fruition and he could breathe with harmony.

The pair landed upon the scene and Thirteen was quickly sobered. A large apartment building, reaching eight stories in the sky, was set aflame and the occupants were rushing back and forth on the street below, crying out and begging for help. The sound quickly became overwhelming and Thirteen had no idea where he should start. He could still hear people rushing through rooms inside and screaming.

“Please, please my neighbor is still in there with her son!" A man called to Superman. Tear stains colored his cheeks and his hand lay heavy on his chest while he heaved uncomfortably heavy breaths. "Superman, please, I heard them before I left. But I don’t see them out here, please help. He is only three years old.”

The clone turned to Kal-El with a plead of his own to help these people even as the alien released Thirteen's hand. For a second one could miss while blinking, Superman paused to scan his eyes along the building, and then he was gone in a heartbeat that was accompanied only by the sound of a broken window. Thirteen flew toward the building after him, but the flame was torrid against his skin. The sweltering heat created a lingering burn and Thirteen couldn't understand how Superman was able to ignore it, even with the promise of helping the suffering. The clone even tried to push the flame and heat away from him using his telekinesis, but it was no use as the aggressive warmth still licked at his face and hands. He hissed at the sensation and flew back, deciding instead to land on the ground to help in another way. 

He startled when a small palm touched the back of his calf, nearly jumping up again to float in the air and escape the possibly erupting conflict. But when he turned around, he saw a small boy looking up at him with wide, leaking eyes. The child was no older than three years, and he was out there alone, face darkened with dirt and ash littered his hair. The child cried out and he leaned in close to Thirteen's leg, wrapping shaking, warmed arms around his own sticking skin.

“Mama,” the boy sobbed as he clung to the clone’s leg. “I can’t find my mama.”

Thirteen glanced around for an available firefighter or even for Kal, but his search was fruitless as everyone was clearly busy. He knelt down slowly, allowing the child the opportunity to let go of his leg, and he wrapped his arms around the child. The child didn't try to run away when the clone patted him on the back, and so he lifted him up off the ground.

“We will find your mama,” Thirteen promised and looked around at the bustling crowd. Everyone was worried and calling out for their loved ones, making it near impossible to know which person was family to this particular little one. His eyes found the child again, who was sobbing now with anguish so deep he was causing himself wheezing hiccups. Thirteen noticed the boy wore Batman pajamas, and he poked his belly softly. “You like Batman? I met Batman, did you know that?” The boy peered at him with interest, eyes still shining with tears but the high-pitched noise created in his throat vanished. “He’s very brave, and because you are wearing his shirt, you are very brave too. He would be so proud of you.” The little boy looked deep in the clone's eyes for a moment longer and wordlessly laid his head on Thirteen’s shoulder, wrapping his small arms around Thirteen's bare neck. “What is your name?” And the boy informed him with a sniff that he was Simon. “Simon, what does your mother look like?” Thirteen asked softly.

“Glasses,” Simon murmured, providing no further information. The clone grimaced.

Thirteen looked around again but there were so many people running back and forth, still calling out for missing people and screaming for help. Another glass shattered somewhere in the building, eliciting more crying. The clone held the child closer to his chest when he felt Simon jump in fear from the noise. “Simon, do you want to fly?” he whispered, and that peeked the smaller's interest. Simon lifted his head and nodded at Thirteen, who smiled as genuine as he could in return. His toes lifted from the cold road slowly and he ascended above the blinking fire trucks and the screaming noise. And like Kal-El had told him, he stopped and listened. He listened to the shouts of fear and cries for saving, and he held Simon closer to his chest while the younger looked down at the ground below them with interest.

The voices blurred together to create a symphony of sorrow until he heard her, a crying mother with a rapid heartbeat calling out, “Simon? Simon! Please has anyone seen my-?”

And that was enough. Thirteen zipped to her, eliciting a squeal of joy from Simon, and landing next to the weeping woman. She gasped and her question died on shocked lips at the sudden cold wind of air that marked the clone's arrival next to her. But when she realized she was seeing that her son had landed before her in protective arms, she pulled both of them into a strong, shaking hug. Her arm wrapped firm around Thirteen’s shoulders as she thanked him with her whole heart. And she pressed a kiss to the clone’s forehead before she took her son into her own arms and slowly walked away, burying her face into his hair and whispering promises of her love.

Thirteen stumbled away with color tinting his cheeks, and he paused to listen again until he heard another crying child, looking for her grandparents this time. He found the small girl and helped her find her family, where he received more hugs and kisses on his cheek and temple. And with a smile, he reunited five more children with their guardians before the fire was extinguished and Kal-El found his clone.

"Superman," Thirteen looked ashamed when the alien landed beside him. "I couldn't go into the fire, it was too hot. Even when I tried to push it away, it didn't work."

Kal wore a small frown, and the clone was relieved to see it wasn't an angry one, but a worried one. He reached out and brushed a finger along Thirteen's flushed cheeks while the clone panted. Superman lowered his eyes and then his hand to Thirteen's arm, and he pointed to a blotch of pink. The remnants of the burn still hurt, though in his busy search for returning children to their families, he had been able to ignore the strange pain. "There is a lot neither of us understand about you... about your physiology based on your genetics. But we will figure that out together."

Thirteen poked at the irritated spot on his arm, and admitted softly, "I don't know where to go now."

Superman studied the young face before him, expression unreadable. Thirteen wondered if the alien was looking for himself in his face, and he worried Kal was searching for Lex Luthor in there too. Time slowed as he held his breath in anticipation, until finally the alien smiled and placed a hand on his naked shoulder. "You come with me."

And Kal-El floated up into the air as the sounds of the crowd cheering followed him into the sky. The clone punched his fists in the air with victory, eliciting a louder cheer from the crowd, but before he lifted from the ground to follow the alien, a group of four boys approached him with hands shoved in their pockets and piercing gazes striking the clone in place. They appeared to be his own age, middle teenage years, but they also looked like they hadn't been granted a proper shower or meal in weeks. Though when Thirteen thought about it, he understood he probably looked that way too right now, standing in the cold road in his underwear and coated once again with that gel. The only part of him that he felt truly belonged at the moment was his hair, and that is what the first boy to speak pointed at now. "I like your hair."

Thirteen grinned and ran a hand through it. The strands were also sticky, but the cut was understandable even through the gel. He thanked the group with whispered words and a nod, and the shortest member stepped forward, appearing strangely nervous. "We know who you are. You saved that woman in Gotham."

The clone huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. He felt Kal had stopped to wait for him several yards from the ground, granting the clone privacy but still present in case he needed to intervene. "That doesn't matter. She told everyone I was called Superboy, and I hate that name."

"We don't care what people call you," a tall, lanky boy spoke up next. He wore dark sunglasses and his gaze was averted. "You are you, and we are talking to you now. You don't want to be Superboy, then you aren't Superboy. Call us Shakespeare or whatever, 'what's in a name' and all that, but we don't find names to be that important either." Thirteen cocked his head to the side at that, curious but hoping to seem callous in case they weren't to be trust. "We saw the work you did there. Savings kids and whatnot, even in just your shorts." The clone's eyebrows furrowed and he blushed. "You are sort of like us, and we have something for you."

Thirteen couldn't help taking a wary step back as the fourth member, one who had been silent until this moment, pulled something out from behind his back. Superman hadn't stopped the exchange yet, and the clone knew the alien could see through this guy's body at the object he held, but somehow this only eased his worries slightly. His eyebrows raised in interest though when the teenager pulled out a piece of clothing from behind him. He handed it wordlessly to the clone, and Thirteen unfolded the material to find he was holding a black leather jacket. A grin spread across his face as he examined the collar.

"You and us, we are similar, you see? We all save people, even when others think we should be hiding from the big baddies trying to stop us," the smaller one spoke again, clearly proud of himself in light of the clone's reaction. "I know names don't matter to you, kid, but we are the Newsboy Legion. We are the descendants of those that fought for bread by selling papers during the war during the day, and saved the lives of the innocent in the night. And after seeing your work here, we have decided to make you an honorary member."

Thirteen slipped his arms through the jacket and stood proudly wearing it. The leather felt different against his skin, unlike the fluffy towels and even the t-shirt he had worn, but he loved it yet. "Rad."

He thanked his comrades for the gift, shook their hands, and Thirteen lifted from the ground to meet Superman in the sky. The alien eyed his leather jacket with interest, and he chuckled, “You have quite the knack for making friends. Have you tested how fast can you fly?”

A wide grin spread across Thirteen’s lips even as he shook his head, and he asked, “Do you want to race?” His mind jumped back to Robin and the magic he had witnessed as the kid disappeared from the roof only to beat him to the finish line.

Clark laughed kindly. “Maybe next time. We are going this way, to the north. And just go as fast as you can. I’ll see if I can keep up.”

Thirteen snickered at the very thought of being able to fly faster than Superman. He pointed himself in the direction Superman showed him, and he conjured all of the warmth he could find in his chest. And with a deep breath and a quick glance at Clark, he shot off. The cooled breeze grazed his cheeks and burned slightly at his eyes. He watched the lights beneath him, proof of the city life on the ground, blur into strings of yellow and red, and then he pushed himself even faster. Airplanes and birds accompanied him in the sky, but he dodged them with ease in plenty of time.

Feeling confident, he performed somersaults in the air while giggling. But after his fourth flip, he noticed how deflated his limbs felt. The energy he expended was worth it because flying with Superman still felt so good. And sure enough, the alien kept up just behind him with ease, but he didn't want their flight to stop. His vision finally became hazy, and with a small huff of air, he slowed down to stop on a roof far below him for a break. He landed on his feet and bent over to place his hands on his knees, catching his breath and laughing. Superman landed right next to him, also smiling widely but appearing just as he did before their flew.

“How far did we go?” Thirteen asked, panting.

“We circled the globe eighteen times.”

“Eighteen?” His jaw dropped. He stood up straight again and looked out at the city in which they landed. He wasn’t sure where he was, but based on the voices he heard speaking around him, he guessed they stopped in Japan. “This is a small world.”

“Only from that speed. It’s a very different story for people who don’t move that fast. Did you hear anything on the way here?”

Thirteen shook his head no, ashamed to admit he hadn't been listening because he was enjoying the flight too much. "What did you hear?"

“I answered to eight fires, twenty car pileups, forty-three muggings, and I evacuated a village during an earth quake.” Thirteen was sobered, leveling the alien with a quizzical look. He was moving as fast as he could and Superman somehow had the time during their flight to do all of that without the clone even realizing he was gone. “I also helped twelve cats out of trees,” he added with a wink and the clone reluctantly cracked a small smile at that. “Don't worry. You will get so much faster the more you practice, and the more you are exposed to the sun. It’s setting now, don’t you feel it?” Thirteen thought he did feel it, even more than he saw that sun setting. “The voices around us, do you understand them?” Kal asked curiously, jerking his head to the side.

Thirteen listened. “Yes. All of them. There’s Japanese... some Hindi and Bengali... and then a little further, I hear Mandarin. There’s a parade, do you hear it?”

Clark smiled and nodded. “They are happy, aren’t they?” They were happy. The sounds of food sizzling on grills and children laughing traveled through the air, carried by the breeze that rustled through the leaves below the pair. It was a stark contrast to the screams they heard during the fire, and Thirteen relaxed to hear it. “Are you ready to fly again?” Thirteen took a deep breath and nodded, lifting his toes up from the ground. “Slowly this time,” Superman confirmed stepping off of the roof and ascending now too. “This way.”

This time, the clone was flying lower to the ground and with less balance than he had before. He felt Superman watching him carefully, but he only frowned and pushed himself further. He didn't want to disappoint the alien because this was something they could do together. Not only that, but they had somewhere specific to be this time, and he did not want them to be late all because he couldn't fly that quickly anymore. When Thirteen's speed faltered further and he dropped a half inch in the sky, Superman asked him if he was tired, but the clone claimed to be fine. And he told himself that he was fine, despite his heavy limbs and heaving chest. He felt he was unraveling his blanket thread by thread until there was nothing left to use. After another minute of silent flight, he was rubbing at his eyes when he dropped another two inches in the sky. This time, Superman stopped their journey.

“Let me carry you. We are almost there and you can rest.” The sun was nearly completely set, and Thirteen couldn’t deny he felt drained. They were floating in the sky now, but Thirteen felt the constant tug of the earth's gravity in his core, urging him down to the ground. Reluctantly, because he wanted to prove he was strong, he accepted Superman’s outstretched hand and allowed himself to be pulled through the short distance between them until he stopped by Kal’s back. With additional encouragement, the clone wrapped his arms around his neck and he rested his weight on the alien’s back, allowing his blanket the rest it required. “Comfy?”

Thirteen grinned and nodded. His warm breath ruffled the alien’s hair as he snickered, “This is so much easier. Careful or I’ll never want to fly on my own ever again.” Superman laughed loud at that, throwing his back and causing Thirteen to nearly lose his grip. “Where are we going anyway?”

“The arctic.”

Superman flew slowly now, allowing the clone the opportunity to look down at the cities below and practice listening to the life that surrounded him. They passed a large celebratory gathering where people cheered loudly and waved drinks around that smelled sour. A child jumped into her father’s arms and Thirteen had a thought. “How did you find me in the laboratory? Lex said something about lead?”

“When I flew to LexCorp, a man directed me down to you. He actually left a message for you. His name is Donovan, and he said he’s sorry for what he did.” The clone found his information interesting. Watching the man shoot at Robin created a moral dilemma that the clone hadn't had the opportunity to work through yet. Even though that event complicated a lot of things, he understood that Donovan was under the orders of someone as frightening and threatening as Lex, and he still hoped the man was doing well now after telling Superman about the laboratory. If Lex Luthor had access to a horrible green stone that caused Thirteen so much pain and suffering, he couldn't imagine what devices of grief the man had in store to direct his scientists and guards with. If the clone were honest, though he was so incredibly thankful to be away from that lab, he wished he could have seen that man once more before his hasty departure. Thirteen subconsciously hugged Kal's neck tighter, pulling himself closer to the alien’s body and wearing a small frown.

He had closed his eyes for what felt like a few minutes when Kal's voice rose again, startling the clone from his slumber and pulling him back to consciousness. "Welcome to the Fortress of Solitude," Superman spoke, and Thirteen was awe-struck.

His eyelids had closed before they entered the arctic and so his first surprise was to find himself surrounded by bright, blinding snow. In the center of his view, and in the direction they were traveling, he saw a tall, beautiful structure hidden perfect from wandering eyes with its camouflage in the winter wonderland. The building was constructed of bright crystals reflecting light of red, yellow, and blue across the snow. Warmth radiated from the shining rocks, and Thirteen wanted to touch it. "Wow," he breathed.

Superman landed at the structure where sharp, tall crystals crisscrossed to create an entrance into the cave. Thirteen unwound his arms from around the alien's neck and slid off his back. With an encouraging smile, Kal extended a hand and guided Thirteen into the fortress, and the clone was surprised to find that the inside was just as magnificent as the outside. There were no electric fluorescent lights like the ones that littered the laboratory, and ugly tubes of creatures didn't line the walls. There weren't tables with files or cryptic beakers with liquids. No white coats or green stones.

And best of all, Lex Luthor wasn't there.

"I love it..." Thirteen whispered as he approached the crystal. He rubbed a finger across the smooth surface and watched the shadows of his hand dance along the snow by his feet, surrounded by the array of colors.

"I am very glad to hear that," Kal smiled sincerely. And then he stepped back and called out into the vast space, "Kelex, run a diagnosis on our guest."

Thirteen stiffened. "Who is Kelex?" He never considered the possibility that Superman would simply use him as just another experiment, but this sudden fear bombarded his mind and threatened to plant its flag there forever. The clone tried to shake this away though, because overall, it was silly to think Superman would be anything but good.

"Kelex is the Kryptonian artificial intelligence that runs the Fortress of Solitude. Here Kelex comes now," and the alien motioned toward the floating robot moving directly toward Thirteen.

The clone studied the artificial intelligence with a skeptical eye and hands planted on his hips before huffing, "Fine. But I am not taking off my clothes." And for emphasis, he pulling the leather jacket tighter around his torso. He held his breath and prepared for the resulting threatening that would have followed had he denied such a right to Lex Luthor.

But Kal didn't fight. Instead, he looked at Thirteen surprised and sad, and he stated with a slight stutter, "Y-you don't have to take off your clothes. Kelex is only going to scan you, and then provide you with your medical information. I know that can be very private and if you want, I can even leave during this part and Kelex can only tell you about the results. I don't know what happened to you when you were with Luthor, but that will not happen here. This information is only going to provide you with further knowledge on your own metabolic and genetic data. Would you like me to leave?"

Thirteen considered this. He did not want Superman to leave. He believed he was telling the truth enough, and most important, he wanted his parent in the room with him during his first doctor visit. He shuffled through the donated memories, and he found the people all looked and felt fine during and afterward. He confirmed aloud, "No, I would like you to stay here. With me."

Kal nodded as he failed to hide the smile shining through his eyes, "If you change your mind at any point, just tell me. I will leave, no questions asked. Ready?" Thirteen nodded. "Kelex, commence the diagnosis."

The robot approached Thirteen, who pulled the jacket around him tighter yet and then froze. "Hello, and welcome to the Fortress of Solitude. I am pleased to meet your acquaintance and I am eager to assist you in all of your needs," the robot spoke to him in a voice that nearly matched those he saw in the movies in his mind. Thirteen thought about the short piece of Star Wars he was granted the opportunity to see with his own eyes, and he wished to show this real-life robot to Robin. "Before the scan begins, what is your name?"

Thirteen's eyes flicked to Kal, who tilted his head curiously in response, watching the clone just like he was being watched. Finally, Thirteen had remained silent for far too long, and Kal asked him carefully, “What should I call you?” Thirteen slouched in defeat. Of course he knew the question would eventually come up in conversation; Superman was clearly a polite alien who would like to know how to address his clone. But Thirteen was naïve in hoping he still had a few more hours before he had to admit that he didn’t really have one yet. He had been so excited to meet Superman and ask the alien for a name, but now that he was actually faced with him, he became bashful and ashamed that Luthor created him and refused to give him a name because he was behaving poorly.

He averted his gaze and mumbled, “A woman in Gotham called me Superboy, but I hate it. It’s better than Lex’s nicknames for me though.”

Kal nodded slowly in understand, clearly hearing that he didn't receive an answer. “I want to show you something. Come this way.” Thirteen opened his mouth to ask about Kelex and his diagnosis, but Kal smiled and provided, "Kelex will come too."

Kal led Thirteen through the first large area until they came across a frame leading to a second, larger room. This one contained medical bay beds secured in pods, chairs to sit in, and an interesting device in the middle of the room that looked similar to a large television set attached to goggles via a wire. Kal's boots clicked softly against the hard floor as he walked straight toward the strange screen. Thirteen's bare toes were silent in their movement, but he followed closely behind. "Kelex, have you determined any presence of Kryptonian DNA?" Kal asked, and Kelex confirmed there was such DNA detected in the clone. "Excellent." And Kal faced Thirteen again, smiling, "I would like to show you something. These goggles allow for a virtual reality tour of the late planet Krypton. This is the planet I was born on, the world my parents and grandparents and those before them lived. This was the home I would have had, had it not been destroyed. And I would like for you to see it."

"Virtual reality?" Thirteen asked as he stepped forward, peering curiously at the goggles. Kal nodded, and picked up the set. With nodded permission from his clone, he stepped forward and wrapped the pair around Thirteen's face until they covered his eyes properly. "Okay, I am ready," Thirteen confirmed after adjusting the soft goggles over his eyes. The world before him, which had just been dark in the coverings, lit up suddenly, and he gasped, taking a step back. The new world followed him though and he blinked with wide eyes to find he was standing in a courtyard. Sturdy, towering mountains reached their peaks toward the shining sun along the horizon, and tall buildings climbed toward the sky all around him. He was surrounded by aliens, all similar to him enough in shape and abilities as they were flying. Some of the children were laughing and playing, participating in a game that encouraged them to shriek with joy. Grown Kryptonians spoke to one another happily, walking or floating next to one another, some held hands and others wrapped their arms around their companions. The chatter was soothing and everybody appeared so genuinely happy.

Thirteen couldn't help taking a step forward. He knew he was still in the Fortress of Solitude with Kal-El, but he wanted to explore this VR Krypton. He reached out with a curious hand and called for one of the aliens. She had beautiful blonde hair that flowed down her back and reached her lumbar region, and her dress moved softly in the wind. But when Thirteen spoke to her, she continued walking without looking back at him.

"They cannot hear you," Kal-El whispered to him, the soothing voice seemingly appearing out of thin air as Thirteen could not see him. "Go to the opposite end of the courtyard there. You will see two men speaking to one another."

Thirteen turned and walked in the suggested direction, passing green trees and blooming shrubbery. He reached out to touch a large red flower, one with velvet petals and sticking pollen at the center. And though he knew the object was not really right next to him, he wanted to feel the flower beneath his fingertips. With a small chuckle, Thirteen continued walking until he found two men speaking in excited voices. They were greeting one another and hugging, speaking of their lives and their interests.

"That one, wearing the grey shirt. That is my father," Kal's voice came again, still a faint whisper not meaning to startle the clone, but inform him instead. Thirteen found this moving scrapbook fun, and he stepped forward, reaching out to the man's face-his grandfather's face. But the image of the alien did not react to Thirteen's advance because it was all virtual reality-a figment from the past as the clone understood it. He wished that he could have been there, and that he could have met all of these beautiful people. He turned to the other now, the man to which his grandfather was speaking. This alien had kind eyes too in resemblance to the other, but he wore a black shirt and he had a crooked nose and thinner lips. "That," Kal murmured, "is my father's cousin. He fought brave beside my father and saved him on numerous occasions. That man was my father's best friend."

They did appear to be best friends, Thirteen noticed with a small smile. The pair were so happy to see one another. Thirteen watched as leaves fell from the trees and traveled through the air toward the children, and he closed his eyes to imagine the soft breeze tickling his face. A soft bell begin to chime and the families were called to disperse for the evening. The clone wanted to follow them, and when his grandfather turned his back, Thirteen even reached out to grasp it, already frowning as he expected his hand to clutch at air as loneliness swelled around him. But to his surprise, his fingers brushed against a hand-one that held his back in a gentle grasp. The warmth startled the clone and he tore off the goggles to find that Kal was watching him with sad, knowing eyes, and the alien had brought his hand to Thirteen's extended one.

"I always wish to follow him too," Kal-El whispered, gaze lowered as he was consumed with his own sadness. "My father's name was Jor-El, and unfortunately, he died with the rest of my family when I was only a baby. They sent me here to Earth so I could live. I have footage of him speaking to me, but I do not remember seeing his actual self." Thirteen shifted sadly between his legs, and his arm fell from the air as his fingers slid from Kal's hold. "His brave, loyal cousin was Kon-El, a strong defender of Krypton before its falling. He was high in spirit as much as he was in courage, and his strong will is something that I see in you. I would be honored if you would accept this Kryptonian name, as any man would be lucky for their memory to be carried on in someone as brave as you are. I would like to bestow the name Kon-El on you, if you would accept that."

Thirteen couldn't move. He heard Kelex beeping beside him, silently scanning his body for the hints of Kal-EL and the pieces of Lex Luthor. He felt the goggles remain glued to his hand even though he was finished using the VR device. He heard the wind outside and he felt the light reflecting from those amazing crystals dancing across his skin. But he couldn't move. Since he woke up in the laboratory only a few dozen hours prior to this moment, he had wished for self reflection. He wanted to know who he was and why he was there in the cold liquid gel. He wanted to know what it meant to be a clone of Superman, and what it meant to be receptor of Luthor's DNA. He wanted to know what abilities he possessed and how he could help people. He wanted to know about himself, so he could see himself as a person who deserved the rights and freedom that he had fought so hard for. Luthor refused to name him because the man thought he was bad and undeserving. He didn't even have the opportunity to ask Donovan for a name. Batman did not know what to call him, and Robin asked if his name was Cadmus. The woman in the alley said he was not right to be Superman. He never knew who he was or how he should present himself to those around him. Being stripped of an identity before he was even made, he felt so powerless.

But now.

Without needing to ask, Kal-Thirteen's father-provided him with a name. This was a name that was passed down to him from a strong member in his family, being a cousin of his own grandfather, and it was bestowed upon him by Superman, who had done so many amazing things in his time on Earth and who had saved so many lives-including Thirteen's. This name offered to him was of Kryptonian origin, a race that was welcome in claiming him even though he was mixed with someone as evil as Lex Luthor. And if Superman was on his side, he knew he could take his time in self-discovery. He could find his morals and understand how to help those around him.

Thirteen's eyes blurred as tears fell from his ducts without a dramatic pause. The lump in the clone's throat forced him quiet for a long time, but when he did speak, it was through a sticky mouth and with small hiccups causing breaks between the words. "D-dad. I love i-it." And before Kon-El could figure out what to do next, Kal reached out to him, dropping to his knees and hugging the clone close to his chest. Kon sunk down to his own knees and buried his leaking face in the fabric covering the man's shoulder.

Over the next hour, Kon found himself taken over by bouts of happy tears and he flew with his family utilizing VR again. This time, thanks to the second pair of goggles resting by the screen, Kal joined him in flight and introduced him to the people that could not see or hear them. Kal showed his clone the buildings and the rivers that flowed between them. When finally the virtual sun was setting, Kon landed back on the courtyard floor, face flushed and giggling despite his leaking eyes.

He faced Kal and held up his hand, something that his father clearly assumed was supposed to be a high-five. But when Kal's palm was pressed against his own, Kon did not move to lower his hand, and Kal followed his lead. They stood facing one another connected in spirit and by palm, and Kon whispered, "Thank you for saving me."

Kal smiled kindly, and his eyes shone with tears too. "You already told me that."

"But I am still thankful for it."

Kon was pulled into another hug, the only touch he had in the virtual world and one that was only present because it was leaking in from the real one.  "I am sorry I didn't know about you sooner," Kal whispered to him, chin resting against the top of Kon's head.

When at last the pair was finished using the virtual reality device, they set the goggles aside and turned to Kelex, who had completed his scans and informed Kon that though his tactile telekinesis abilities were superb for his age, his Kryptonian powers were temporarily dormant. Kelex recommended meditation in the Fortress of Solitude as exposure to the crystals was proven to connect any alien to their Kryptonian genetics. And because of this, Kon found himself sitting down cross-legged on the cold floor and facing Kal. The younger wore a huge grin, but Kal suddenly frowned in contrast.

"Kon, are you cold?"

Kon didn't necessarily feel cold at the moment, even though he was only clad in a leather jacket and underwear, but his cheeks were still flushed and he could see his breath become a small cloud in front of him. He shrugged in response because he was overall unsure. He longed for the warmth he found after showering and wearing comfortable clothing, but he didn't need those quite yet. Apparently his nonverbal answer was not enough for Superman as he quickly disappeared from the room, zipping away with the blink of an eye, and reappearing seconds later with sweatpants, socks, and a hoodie.

Kon had to slap a hand to his mouth to muffle his snicker, and he asked, "Where did you even get this?" Though without waiting for an answer, he slipped his legs into the sweatpants and shimmied them over his hips.

"I just ran to the nearest store I could find," Kal answered casually with a wink.

Kon shoved a foot into a sock and thought about how lucky he was to find himself with a funny parent. He was a little worried having to be stuck with someone as much of a buzzkill as Lex was. At least with Kal, Kon knew he could mess around and still get a joyous laugh out of the alien. He pulled the hoodie on over his torso and then slid his arms back through the sleeves of the leather jacket before he was ready. And then Kal instructed he take a deep, slow breath, hold it for several seconds, and then release. Kal provided the techniques in detail for Kon on how to meditate properly to advance the mind, body, and soul. And Kon loved the sound of that-he didn't think he would have been given this opportunity at LexCorp, seeing as the man didn't want the clone to have any control over his own mind. So Kon closed his eyes and breathed in deep like Kal recommended, falling quiet and thinking.

Almost immediately, his thoughts fell to his given name, and he had a question. "Kal-El," Kon whispered softly, and Kal let a small chuckle slip past his lips before he hummed in response. "And I am also El; Kon-El. Like you?"

"Yes, Kon-El. You are a member of the House of El; we are family."

Kon was giddy at the thought and he let an eye slip open. He wasn't surprised to find that Kal's were still closed though and he snapped his own shut again. He wanted to meditate. The idea sounded incredibly relaxing just like sleeping in the bed and the showers had been, and the possibility of discovering more powers was exciting. But his mind was racing.

He remained silent for three hundred twenty seconds-as counted slowly by Kon-until he finally relented and stated aloud, "This is boring." But Kal gently encouraged him to think of his body and of his mind, because the practice could prove to be useful.

Kon nodded and counted to one thousand-six hundred eighty seconds before he sighed heavily, because his progress refused to move further. He didn't have any new Kryptonian powers and he had the same control over himself as before. As though the alien could read his mind, Kal spoke up in a soft voice, “Something is holding you back. What plagues your mind during meditation? Luthor will never get to you here, or anywhere else again. You have my word.”

Kon's shoulders slumped heavily and he frowned largely, but his eyes remained closed. “It’s not Luthor.”

“Do you feel alone? You are not. I am here next to you and you have a family now.”

“It’s not that either.”

“Then what is it? You can tell me and we can fix this so you can clear your mind for the full meditation.”

Kon blushed heavily. His eyes slipped open and he met the heavy gaze of Kal-El who appeared to be staring into his soul. “I uhm... I miss my friends, you know... Robin Tim. And uh, also his dad Batman Bruce.”

Kal’s right eyebrow raised and a subtle smile graced his lips. “We will see them again. Now close your eyes and focus.”

Kon did as he was told and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and holding it in his lungs. He released the breath and tried again. He felt the minutes pass by, but still nothing changed from within like Kelex led them to believe would happen. And now his legs felt stiff and his wanted to jump up and fly again. His body slouched again with a huff.

“Kon-El,” Kal stated aloud with a sigh, though his name was spoke with a tone so different from the one used when Lex would chastise him. This voice still had love embedded in it.

Kon huffed. “I’m trying. But this isn’t working, and I want to see him.” Kal leveled him with an interested look. "Do you know him?"

"Robin?" Kal asked, and Kon nodded. "I know him enough, but not as well as I know his predecessor."

"Why?" Kon already appeared far more interested in this conversation as it was something he actually wanted to participate in, rather than the meditation. He leaned forward with his arms draped over his knees. Kal obviously found this amusing, but he was polite enough not to laugh.

"Bruce entered a dark place after the passing of one of his children. He stopped reaching out and I soon fell into the same bad habit. So I do not know this particular Robin as well as I should."

Kon scrunched his nose and shook his head firmly. "Bruce isn’t a dark man. He has one of the lightest souls I’ve encountered. He helped me and brought me to his safe house. That was a failure, but the intent was present."

“Bruce is a very good man, but also a very sad one these days.”

Kon had a difficult time believing this because though the man had been quiet, he was also wonderful. He helped Kon when he was sick, and he offered to stop to get food for him even though they had to leave Gotham City. Inviting a clone-obviously someone else's property at the time-into his house was more kindness than Kon had been showed until that moment. The man provided him with clothing and a shower. And so importantly, he allowed Kon to give him his file instead of overpowering someone smaller than him and taking it for himself without waiting for permission. Kon's eyes fell shut again as he though about Bruce and Tim. They had worked to protect him, even if Luthor ended up getting him in the end. And he wanted to return the favor-he wanted to protect them.

And with his newly-found wish, Kon found he was able to rest his mind and relax his body, and he entered meditation. Kal was silent next to him, participating in the techniques and finding himself in an astral plane as well.

An hour passed before Kon's eyes itched uncomfortably, and when he opened his eyes, a warm laser blasted from his pupils, smacking Kal's chest and sending the alien flying yards back with a surprised yelp. Kon gasped at the sight and he snapped his eyelids closed to prevent further problems. "Kal!" He called hurriedly, jumping to his feet and moving quickly in the general direction he saw Kal thrown in. But with his eyes closed, his toe clipped a table leg and he went sprawling, flying through the air and waving his arms until his own blanket caught him mid-fall, directing him into flight rather than smacking into the ground. Warm fingers found his cheek as Kal chuckled softly, guiding him back to the ground on which they had made such progress.

"Excellent work," Kal praised Kon, and the younger flushed deeply.

With another quickly-spoken apology and a deep breath, Kon entered meditation once more, a practice only broken this time when he remembered how Tim had teased him about his stomach growling like a deep-sea monster during the beginning of their watching of Star Wars. And after a small snicker didn't suffice to muffle the memory, Kon boomed out a loud laugh, and the Fortress around him shook. He quickly covered his mouth but kept his eyes closed.

"Incredible job," Kal sounded amazed. "That is Super Breath, and you performed it beautifully."

Kon couldn't help but laugh again, though this one was still gentle as the sound escaped around his hand. "Super Breath? Sounds like you need a tic-tac."

The room fell silent again, a comfortable quiet that stretched for twenty minutes longer before Kal offered the pair a break. He pulled Kon up to his feet while the clone blinked largely in the light area so severe in contrast to the dark inside of his eyelids. Kal guided his clone over to a box similar in design to a storage bin, and he threw the lid open to reveal folded clothing wielding the sign of hope that he wore across his own chest. Kal pulled out the first suit, a tight-fitting uniform with red leggings and a blue top. The large and famous sign symbolizing Superman was clad brightly in red and yellow at the front. Kal studied the clone before glancing back at the uniform. And then with a shrug, he handed Kon the uniform. "We will see if this fits. Do you enjoy being here?" Kal finally asked.

Kon hummed, holding the uniform out in front of him, and then holding it to his body for cheap measurement. "Yes and no. It feels right to be here, but it isn't all I want. I want to be around more than just this... is that okay?"

Kal smiled, and Kon threw the uniform across his shoulder. "Of course that is okay, Kon. I wanted to know if this was a place you could find peace within the walls. It is a place just for us Kryptonians. A home where we can stop and breathe, and we can find ourselves here again if ever we feel lost."

Kon nodded slowly because he could feel that comfort radiating from the walls of crystal. The feeling was so different compared to one he had felt hours prior, and he asked, "Can you tell me about kryptonite?" Kal's eyes sharpened. "That is the green rock, right? The one that Lex has and-" Robin, he finished silently. Robin had that rock.

"That stone is very dangerous to us, even lethal in prolonged exposure. Kon, I hope you understand that Lex had no right to use that against you." He approached Kon and placed a loving hand on his shoulder. "I promise, he will never come across you again with that horrible stone." And Kon believed it.

The day had ended though, and Kal explained there were tasks he was forced to complete before they could return back to his home. He pulled out a cell phone from his uniform pocket and he pushed a button, bringing the ringing device to his ear. They only waited for a short second before Kon heard a familiar voice answer from the other end.

“Clark.”

“Hey Bruce. I have a favor to ask.”

“Anything,” the man answered immediately.

“I need to bring Kon-El to your place for a few days-“

“Kon-El?”

“Yes, the kid. I need to sort things out with Luthor, shut down that operation he had running in the lab. I think I saw more bodies down there.... and I have to explain a lot to Lois and my parents... and Jon. And Kon doesn’t need to stay up here at the Fortress all alone.”

With a sour taste of déjà vu, Kon huffed out a soft, “I can stay here alone.”

But Bruce was also speaking then. “You know how I feel about Gotham housing those that are... advanced. It is too dangerous.”

“I hear you. But we both know that your house is probably the safest place in the world for him to be right now. I know about your ridiculous security system. Luthor wouldn’t dare come to your manor for him, and I’m not asking you to take him along for joyrides at night when you fight crime. He just needs a bed for a couple of nights. And if you would feel safer about it, Robin can take the week off so it'll just be the two of you.” Kon hated that idea.

“Clark-”

“Plus, he can hear you right now, so you have to say yes.” Kal turned to wink at Kon, but the clone was still frowning.

Bruce sighed long and heavy from the other end of the phone, pausing with frustration for a full minute before continuing. “Fine. But I’m not jeopardizing Robin’s position by my side just to placate your anxieties.”

Kal thanked the man and hung up before turning to Kon. "Ready to go back to Gotham?" And the clone couldn't muffle his own smile at the prospect of seeing Robin again.

Chapter Text

Kon was disappointed to leave the Fortress of Solitude so soon, even though Kal explained they had been there for a full day meditating, running more tests, and flying through Krypton. Even after the sun had set on the second day, the crystals provided a warmth that radiated brilliantly throughout the cave, a feeling that drew Kon closer and welcomed him with wide arms. He wanted to take the VR Kryptonians with him when he traveled back to Batman's home. Kal saw the apprehension and sadness behind his eyes, and he reminded Kon that they could visit the Fortress at any point he wanted, for as long as he wanted.

He tightened his leather jacket around his chest and his toes lifted from the Fortress floor. Kal flashed him a wink and a nod, and they shot off. The pair raced during their flight to Gotham; though by race, it was more truthfully Kon flying at full speed while Kal stayed right on his heels, ready to stop him when they reached Bruce’s house. He felt they had just started their fast-paced journey when Kal grabbed his socked ankle and yanked him back with a chuckle.

“I promise we will have plenty of time to race later, but we’ve already circled the globe three times, and we should get you inside now.”

Kon was still laughing when they touched the ground, landing in front of a large manor that reached four stories high and several yards across. The house was sitting in the middle of a vast green field adjacent to a cluttered forest. When Kon was careful, he could smell the moss and hear the small animals scutter along to ground. He heard the soft trickling of water somewhere within the gated land, and he planned to find that as soon as the night turned to day. The sky looked dreary and felt chilled with the misting rain, a weather that Kon found irritating when he had to actually stand still in it. But Kal stepped right up to the front door and pushed his finger against the ringer, eliciting a sound that sprang to life beneath his touch.

“Don’t worry, Alfred. I’ll get it!” The pair heard Bruce call from inside as the chimes began to dissipate. Kon glanced up at Kal with a shaking smile; he didn’t understand why he felt so nervous all of a sudden. He was beyond excited to spend time with Robin, and he figured talking to Batman again could be interesting too. Kon was surprised to see Bruce answer the door free of his Batman suit. He wore slacks and a button up instead of the sturdy crime-fighting suit. A tie hung loose around his neck, and he looked exhausted. Bruce nodded to Kon in greeting before he dragged his gaze to Clark, raising an expected eyebrow.

“Thanks, Bruce,” Clark said immediately and ushered Kon inside, where he was forced to squeeze between a frowning Bruce and the door frame. “I really appreciate this.”

And after a quick wave and a nervous chuckle, Clark closed the front door for Bruce, and he was gone. Standing just inside the manor made Kon's insides twist and turn even harder, as he looked around at the pristine condition he found. Bruce cleared his throat and guided Kon with a tilt of his head until they ended up sitting on two couched in the front foyer that faced one another. The room was huge even without accounting for the six door frames that led to other parts of the house and the large staircase that branched from it to lead to another story. Framed portraits of smiling faces and organized bookshelves decorated the walls, and there was a small table between the pair housing a tray with an arrangement of liquids varying in color and smell. But Bruce wasn’t offering him any, and Kon wasn’t thirsty. So they ignored the tray and remained silent.

Kon noticed the couch on which he sat wasn’t very comfortable in comparison to the couch at the penthouse. These cushions were stiff and irritating, but he spotted a gray plush throw blanket behind him that he was seriously considering taking for when he was eventually granted the opportunity to go to a bedroom. A small clock chimed loudly from above the fireplace, the only sound breaking the heavy silence and startling the clone slightly. He watched the clock until the bells dissipated from the air, and the room succumbed to silence once more. Kon’s shoulders sank. He had been so excited to come and visit Gotham for the opportunity to see his friends again, but now that he was here the house seemed so quiet. Finally, after he allowed the quiet to continue for too long, Kon asked, “So where’s Robin?”

Bruce seemed to be expecting the question and he grimaced slightly in response, appearing guilty as he answered, “Robin is at his home right now. He doesn’t live here.”

Kon thought that sounded ridiculous, and he asked, “Why wouldn’t he live with you? You’re his dad.”

Bruce’s eyebrows shot up, this assumption apparently giving him pause. “I’m not his father. He already has parents. He’s... my Robin.”

The information still didn’t seem to want to click in his mind. Kon has watched how they acted in the alley; Batman stood in front of Robin when Kon’s eyes shined bright red. They shared secret conversations just by looking at each other in the car while wearing masks. Batman gave Robin food even after saying they didn’t have time to stop and eat. “But I saw you in the alley. You were protecting him like he is your kid.”

“I will always protect him,” Bruce responded easily. “But some of my family are here now. You are welcome to meet them.” And Kon nodded politely with a forced smile. Even though he mostly wanted to see Tim again, he believed meeting the rest of Bruce’s family would be fun. He heard three other sets of heartbeats in Wayne Manor, and he wanted to know to whom they each belonged. He found it especially interesting that one was just a bit quicker than the other two.

Bruce stood up and motioned for Kon to follow before leading him through the door frame at the far right and down a hallway. They passed through a dining room housing a long dinner table with at least twelve chairs. Kon wondered if they were filled every evening for dinner and he felt giddy at the prospect of sitting down for a family dinner as soon as Kal returned. The dining room branched off into a kitchen and Kon found himself facing two new people. The older man was bent over a mixer, maneuvering the contents with a spoon while he added vanilla. He was clad in dark pants and a white button up shirt. But his sleeves were rolled up and he wore an apron over his nice clothes.  His hair was mostly grey, only cushioned sparingly with dark strands that whispered the hair color of his youth. The younger had dark black hair, and he wore a loose tank top that showed every bruise and scar that decorated the skin of his arms, shoulders, and neck. His eye was swollen and purple bruises danced across his jaw, mouth, and the bridge of his nose. Ugly yellow patches of bruising colored his arms, laid across his skin alongside scars that appeared to be new and old. But he was grinning anyway. The younger of the two, whom was also the taller, was muscular like some of the soldiers Kon had to fight alongside Tim, but over all the pair looked harmless. Kon was interested to see that neither were wearing a mask either.

“Hi,” Kon greeted them with a wide smile and a wave. “I’m Kon-El.” Using his name as an introduction for the first time sent giddy waves across his chest and his cheeks warmed with excitement. He didn't feel as much like the property of Cadmus with his own name, despite what his tag still said. But he sent that thought away with a blink, because Robin had promised him an earring.

The younger whistled and murmured with awe, “Wow. You look exactly like him, huh?” The older man shot him a complicated look, one that was startling to the clone but it didn’t hold the threatening tone that Luther’s always did. The younger man shrank under the look and shook his head quickly. “Not that it’s a bad thing. I love Uncle Clark!” The older man was still pursuing his lips at the other with disappointment, and the other smiled sheepishly at Kon. “Anyway, I’m Dick.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, Mister Kon-El. You may call me Alfred,” the older man said, and Kon has to pressed his lips together to avoid snickering at the sound of Mister Kon-El. But Alfred leveled him with a scrutinizing graze and Kon quickly sobered, standing up straight and hoping he was passing whatever test it was that he was taking for the old man’s approval. “Do you want to get cleaned up?” He finally asked with a kind smile, and Kon nodded hurriedly. He had wanted a shower ever since he stepped out of his last one at the penthouse-a wish that was only exacerbated after his dunk in the freezing liquid gel. “Help yourself to one, and tea will be ready for you when you’re finished.”

Dick volunteered to show Kon the way to the shower, and as they left the kitchen Kon heard Alfred ask Bruce, “So you brought home another one? I thought we had a deal that you’d at least give me a heads up.” There was a smile in his voice though, and Kon felt a tug at his chest at the idea of being taken in permanently by Batman.

“This one is Clark’s. But he needs a bed for a few days, and you cannot expect him to wait for Clark outside in this awful weather.”

Kon was just about to wonder why Bruce was under the impression that the misting rain outside was considered 'awful' when he knew blizzards existed in theory, but he grinned instead when he heard Alfred deadpan, “This is the best weather we’ve had this month.” And then in a soft whisper, the old man added, “Of course he can stay. The similarity is impeccable.”

Kon didn’t hear whether or not Bruce informed the old man that Kon looked so much like Clark because he was the alien's clone because at that moment, Dick began to speak to him. “I can’t wait to hear how Bruce found you, by the way. I hope you’ll enjoy staying here. It’s quiet most of the time, especially when Tim is at his house. But Bruce has like... a million books and way too many TV’s. And Alfred is super nice. So I think you’ll be fine.” He glanced back at Kon, and the clone figured his expression must have looked worried, because Dick quickly added, “I’ll be here too. As you can see, I had my bell well-rung recently. So we can play video games or something, if you want. Is there anything you like?”

Kon didn't know how to respond, because what he really wanted was for Tim to be there with him. And Clark. He wanted to finish watching Star Wars and try new foods. And he wanted to feel Tim's fingers run across his scalp like he had when he cut the clone's hair.

Dick brought him to the base of the staircase and they ascended. “Do you live here?” Kon asked while he studied the family photos that lined the wall beside him. There were pictures of a small child with Bruce's eyes standing next to a woman and man, all smiling. Kon assumed it was Bruce and his parents when he was young. Next to this one were several with Bruce and Alfred at different ages, looking at the camera without smiles this time. Next, he found pictures of Dick with Bruce, and Dick with Alfred. And the three were smiling in these.

Dick chuckled and shook his head. “Only on the occasion when I look like this,” he lifted a finger toward his face without turning around. But Kon already knew he was pointing at the injuries littering his face. 

The next group of pictures housed Bruce, Alfred, Dick, and another young boy with dark curly hair and a wide grin. And Kon remembered what Kal had said about Bruce suffering a significant loss. He placed his finger on the boy's image before he took the next step. Toward the top of the stairs, Kon found a group of pictures with Tim. He was playing the piano in one picture while Dick was frozen singing loudly next to him. Tim stood with Bruce and Alfred in another picture, smiling toothily and holding a graded assignment before his chest. And in a final picture, Tim stood next to Alfred in the kitchen, wearing an apron and about a third a bag of flour all over his face, hair, and chest. And they were caught laughing in the photo. He touched this picture too and wondered what joke led to the happiness he saw there. They reached the second level and Kon glanced down the long hallway branching off into several rooms that he assumed to be the bedrooms. The voices in the kitchen were only a subtle hum now, and that third heartbeat Kon hadn’t met yet joined them in the kitchen.

“Where is Robin’s room?”

Dick did turn around at that, wearing only a hint of a smirk. He motioned to his right, Kon’s left, and answered. “His is here, the first on the left. But he’s got a similar lease as I do: only here when he looks like this.”

“Oh,” Kon whispered, and he placed his palm flat again the closed door. He hated to think there were times when Tim suffered through injuries to land him resembling Dick's. The image churned his stomach and gripped at his throat. “Where do I go?”

“Just down here,” Dick flashed a supportive smile, having sensed the sudden onset of melancholy, and he turned to lead Kon five doors down. He nodded toward the door and Kon slowly twisted the cold knob. “This is the guest room that Alfred keeps clean, which means it’s all yours,” Dick informed him with a nod. “It has a bathroom with soap and a toothbrush. And we have extra clothes for you in the dresser.”

Kon peeked in the room and was surprised to find this one was even nicer than the one he occupied in the penthouse. The wallpaper was slightly darker and more rugs covered the carpeted floor. Small decorative pictures lined the walls, ones with floral designs and climbing mountains resting under a deep pink sky. The dresser was a deep coffee brown and larger than the dresser he had in the penthouse, presenting with three columns of five drawers, each with the promise of clean clothing. And the bed was huge. Kon didn’t realize that beds could have even more than what that penthouse bed offered, but at least five additional blankets and three more pillows laid across the comforter. He decided he didn’t need to take the blanket from the foyer couch.

Dick politely excused himself to allow the clone his privacy, though he promised Kon that he would be available and happy to answer any questions their guest may have. So without further conversation, Kon stepped into the bathroom, and he gasped.

The shower was magnificent. This one had glass doors that branched from the wall to connect at a glass door. But it also had a large shower curtain that ran across the front for extra privacy, an addition that allowed him to shower with the glass door open but he was still covered from the rest of the room. Wearing a delighted grin, he shucked his clothes from his body and turned the knob all of the way to the left, toward the comfortable ‘H’ that he remembered from the penthouse. He couldn’t wait to rid himself of the disgusting remnants of the gel-the last piece of Luthor still troubling him, he realized.

His eyes flickered to the mirror and his gaze landed on his face. No matter how much he wanted to believe he could leave his past with Luthor far behind him in that basement laboratory, he would always carry around something of that man’s that ran deep in his veins. Kal hadn't seemed disappointed in his genetics, but Kon was worried he would finally realize what it meant that Kon had Luthor's DNA-that Kon could have badness deep in his body. His eyes were wide and a familiar sadness shone brightly through the pupils. The steam radiating from the open shower door finally clung to the mirror and his reflection blurred.

With a deep breath, he stepped into the shower. And immediately yelped out in pain at the temperature.

With a sigh and the forced realization that he still didn’t have Superman’s invulnerable skin, he turned the water heat down until he could stand the tingling of his skin. His arms and chest were already pink and he selected the vanilla shampoo and body wash. After a full half hour passed and the water turned cool against his skin, he reluctantly stepped out of the shower.

But after he stood on the tiles, he realized something very important was missing. He looked around the bathroom and frowned largely to find there weren’t any towels. Besides his own crumbled pile of clothing in the corner of the bathroom, there wasn’t any other fabric in the room. He peeked under the sink and in the small cabinet over the toilet, but they were bare of towels. Water droplets were chilled now as they fell from his hair and landed on his shoulders, cooling quickly as they traveled down his shins, and he hugged his torso for warmth.

He considered calling down to Bruce, or even Dick who had requested Kon let him know if he needed anything. And he needed towels. He figured even the old man would lend him a towel if he knew the clone needed one, seeing as though he was downstairs making tea for Kon.

But Kon didn’t want to replace the sticky clothes, even if they came from Clark, and he definitely did not want to walk downstairs and speak to Bruce’s family naked. He didn’t want to be naked in front of any of them ever again, not if he could help it. He had had enough of that in Luthor’s basement, and his eyes fell down to his belly where he saw the pinched, healing skin recovering from his feeding tube. He scowled as his stomach twisted with anxiety, and he threw the bathroom door open. He wouldn’t go downstairs naked and he wouldn’t have a towel this time. He stepped up to the bed and pushed the comforter back before sliding between the sheets. The fabric clung to his wet skin with irritation, and Kon felt the overwhelming urge to yell out in frustration. He curled up completely under the covers, feeling the heavy weight of blankets folded above him, and he closed his eyes as the water from his hair sunk into the mattress beneath him. His vision was dark, aiding to the stinging burn that blossomed behind his eyes. He wanted to cry.

He held his breath and listened to the rain outside that was suddenly pouring with ugly vigor, a change that occurred while he was in the shower. The droplets pounced against the window and sprinkled along the roof. And though this sound threatened to send him to sleep, the distant screech of emergency vehicles and endangered voices kept his eyes wide in fear. Tears finally fell down his cheek and he wrapped his arms around his knees protectively.

Kon’s eyes had dried, leaving proof of grief on his face with swollen eyes and tear tracks, long before he finally shifted under the blankets, countless minutes after he stepped out of the shower. He pushed the blankets down and blinked into the light radiating from the ceiling light. His skin was dry now and his hair was only mildly damp at most, so he slowly made his way to the dresser in search of new underwear.

He thought back to his experience flying through VR Krypton with Kal, and he longed to see those familial faces again. He wanted to be with Kal now even as the alien fought with Luthor and spoke to mysterious people that Kon didn't know. He wanted to be at his own home back in the Fortress where Kelex was respectful and the crystals felt good against his skin. And so he decided to wear the suit Superman had given to him. When he slipped on the light clothing and saw the symbol for hope printed across his own chest, a small smile flowered on his lips. He slipped his arms into the leather jacket.

He still heard movement a floor below him, and he had a pang of guilt over keeping them waiting. The promise of tea still waited in the air and he took a deep breath before opening his bedroom door. He stepped out into the dark hallway and heard padding feet approach him with forceful speed. The running feet belonged to the quickened heartbeat Kon had yet to meet, and he turned around to find a growling German Shepherd baring his sharp teeth at the clone. Kon froze.

“Hi, puppy,” he whispered slowly. His borrowed memories all showed great interactions with dogs, and he knew based on those that he should already like dogs. He believed he could have even benefited from a dog’s company just moments prior when he had been crying in bed. But this dog was growling viciously and the dark hair decorating his back stood up dangerously. A nervous whine sounded from deep in Kon’s throat, because though he hadn’t been bitten yet, it wasn’t an experience he was eagerly waiting for. He wanted to reach for his telekinesis to push back at the dog in case he decided to lunge at the clone, but with his surprise, he had difficult finding it. The dog snarled again, and Kon took a timid step back before he bumped right into a solid chest.

Kon gasped and spun around just as the dog barked in warning, causing the clone to jump even as his eyes landed on Bruce.

“Ace,” Bruce stated in a firm voice, looking over Kon’s head at the dog. “Stop. Sit.” And Kon watched in awe as the dog sat. “Good boy. Stay.” Bruce looked down at Kon and offered an invisible smile. “This is Ace; he is not a mean dog. He just needs to get to know you. Do you want to meet him?” Kon looked back at the dog, sitting now and watching Bruce with wide-eyed interest. The clone considered this question; he was afraid to disappoint Bruce who was kind enough to allow him to stay the night, but he thought about how sharp those teeth looked. Finally, and with the sudden urge to cross his own fingers for luck, he shook his head in a decline. Bruce nodded. “I understand. Do you want to come downstairs now? Alfred has been waiting for you.” Another pang of guilt before the man added, "He is very proud of his tea."

Kon nodded and slid between Bruce and the hallway wall, distancing himself from the dog and allowing the animal's owner to stand between them. Bruce ordered the dog to stay once more before he followed Kon down the stairs. They entered the kitchen and Kon felt mildly disappointed to find Dick was absent from the room. But Alfred was already pouring Kon a cup of tea and motioning for him to sit down at the kitchen island. The mug’s contents smelled delicious and Kon peered at the bowl of sugar cubes and the small dish of lemon slices placed near him.

“That is a very fine look you have there, young sir,” Alfred noted nodding toward Kon’s outfit, and he couldn’t help but grin as he thanked the man. "I hope you feel better now that you are all cleaned up."

While Kon watched the steam rise from his mug, Alfred dipped down into the refrigerator and pulled out a bowl of risen dough that he had been mixing earlier. Alfred pulled the dough out and plopped the sticky tan blob on the counter over a bed of flour as Kon took his first sip. Sweet bursts of lavender spilled across his tongue and Kon’s eyes widened. As he swallowed the liquid, he felt the warmth spread through his chest and belly, radiating in comfort to his fingers and toes, and he smiled. He took another sip before he picked up a sugar cube and popped it in his mouth. The crystal sweetness dissolved over his tongue and the surprising taste danced throughout his mouth. He then picked up a lemon slice and peeled the rind off completely before he put the fruit in his mouth. Alfred watched with surprise and chuckled as Kon's face scrunched in a puckered grimace. The lemon left bursts of unforgivable sourness and he closed his eyes as they stung with grief. Kon finally swallowed and panted for a moment, cracking his watering eyes open and looking at Alfred sheepishly.

"Was that your first lemon?" The old man asked politely, and Kon nodded. He didn't hate it though.

Kon plucked more sugar cubes and popped them in his mouth before Alfred recommended he place a lemon slice and sugar cube in the tea. Kon thought that was a foolish suggestion, but he followed it anyway, and when he tried the mixture, he understood he could never underestimate the old man again. It was delicious. Alfred gave him a welcoming nod, because of course the man already knew the drink had improved tenfold, and he pressed the dough into the flour with the heels of his hand while the clone emptied his cup. Bruce stood by the stove for several minutes longer until his cell phone chimed and he excused himself from the room with an apology.

Alfred asked if Kon was interested in lending him a hand when the clone had finished drinking his tea, but Kon politely insisted on watching. Alfred poured him another cup and spoke softly to Kon while he worked, explaining what he was making and how long each step needed to take for the pastry to come out of the oven perfect.

The conversation stretched until Kon finally asked Alfred in the otherwise-empty room when there was a lull in speaking, “Who is Lois?”

Alfred hummed curiously, “I beg your pardon?”

“Kal-El said he needed to talk to Lois. And Jon. Are they his friends?”

Alfred smiled fondly. “I actually think he will find pleasure in introducing you to them himself. Best not spoil the surprise, right lad?”

“Yes-” -sir, Lex hissed in his mind, and Kon’s lips sealed around the word with defiance. The old man was polite enough, and Kon found he felt comfortable sitting next to him and watching the man work, and if anyone did deserve that title, Kon believed it would be the man before him. But he didn’t have to call anyone by that title ever again, and he didn’t feel comfortable saying it now, even to someone who was not going to shove kryptonite toward his center. “How long do these take in the oven?” He asked instead.

“The pastries will bake for several minutes,” Alfred smiled. “But they will be worth the time. I would love for you to try some. Are you hungry? Or do you want more tea?”

Before Kon could answer, Bruce returned to the kitchen mid-sigh, followed shortly by Dick. He pocketed his phone and pressed a thumb against the bridge of his nose with apparent exhaustion due to whatever phone call he had received. Dick elbowed him hard in the ribs and huffed as he jerked his head toward Kon, a motion that the clone clearly wasn't supposed to see. He politely turned away from the interaction, and he was not surprised when Bruce spoke next, turning to Kon as he did so. “So,” Bruce started with a grimace. “What did you and Clark do before you got here?”

Kon grinned, suddenly excited again as he thought of his previous several hours that were spent with Clark. “We went to the Fortress made of crystals in the snow! I met a robot doctor; I think it counted as my first doctor's appointment...” Kon shrugged, and he relished in the way Dick laughed in appreciation of his joke. “And we meditated. I liked that part.”

“Would you like to do that here? The meditation I mean.”

“You know how to meditate?” Kon asked, leaning closer over the table and slapping his palms on the wood. The legs on his chair scraped along the floor even though his legs were crossed underneath him, the sound was courtesy of his telekinesis. This cup squirmed in the saucer and a single sugar cube flipped out of the container. Alfred and Dick exchanged a quick glance, but Kon became quickly focused on Bruce, who stepped forward instead.

Then Bruce nodded with a small smile. “I have trained with a few people who recommended I participate in the practice.” Kon was in awe, mouth ajar and watching Bruce with large eyes, because Batman could do everything. When the silence stretched, Bruce asked again, “Would you like to meditate tonight?”

And Kon nodded with eagerness, and agreed to this as long as Bruce was going to join him. The man confirmed he would and Kon turned to Dick and Alfred, face bright with excitement and cheeks flushed. He looked at them expectantly, but the pair remained silent until Bruce also turned to face them.

“Uhm. Y-yeah, I can... meditate,” Dick stammered slowly, turning to grin wildly at Alfred. “It’s been a long time since I’ve done that.”

But Alfred was still baking, so he sent the trio away with the promise of pastries when they were finished.

Bruce led the two boys to the manor’s library, where Kon sat down cross-legged on the floor over comfortable folded blankets. The clone already felt more relaxed now, with his belly filled with warm tea, a comfortable blanket under him, and the promise of pastries hanging in the air. He felt he could stay in that library for the rest of his life, warm and content. Bruce and Dick sat across from him and mimicked his position with legs crossed and hands folded in their laps. The lights were lowered and light music fluttered through the speakers, and Kon closed his eyes like he had at the Fortress.

His mind settled and his shoulders dropped with relaxation much quicker than he had accomplished in the Fortress the first time. He listened to the quiet thunks of the slow heartbeats beside him. He heard Alfred shuffling through the kitchen and humming quietly to himself. He heard Ace the large dog snoozing right next to the closed library door, obviously wishing to be invited in with Bruce.

The symphony of life danced across the room and was accompanied by the pouring rain outside the large window. And minutes passed by the tens.

Kon startled only slightly from his daze when he heard the front door bell sound. But he slipped back into his meditation until he heard Bruce several rooms away ask, “Do your parents know you left?” The man sounded surprised, and Kon was passively intrigued as to whom their visitor was.

“Yes,” Tim answered flatly, and Kon’s eyes shot open. It was a response that even the clone would have believed had he not been able to hear the slight increase in tempo of his heartbeat. And he smirked. Bruce hummed in response, sounding unsure but not wishing to doubt the younger. “Is he here?” Robin asked in a nervous whisper, and there was a pause as Bruce answered confirmation in silence. “Is he mad? Lex showed him the kryptonite.”

“I already know that. Go talk to him.”

Kon’s eyes slipped open and he was surprised to see he was alone in the quiet room, the only resident of the room listening to the trickling music. He still heard Ace just outside the closed door, and he realized the dog was keeping an eye on him instead of Bruce. Before Kon had the opportunity to react though, the library door flew open and there stood Tim, clad in a dripping raincoat, wet boots, and his domino mask. Kon jumped up from the blanket as Ace squeezed between Tim and the door frame, and the dog trotted inside the room.

Tim approached Kon with nervous steps, appearing as though he had already been chastised. Kon almost asked why he appeared so upset, but Tim spoke first. “Please listen to me.” Kon opened his mouth with worry, but Tim continued, “wait, please-I have to explain. I have to apologize.” He stopped next to Ace and wrung his fingers over his chest as remnants of the rain dropped across the floor. The circular music was their only comfort.

Understanding bloomed as Kon realized this was guilt and an apology regarding the kryptonite. But the clone wasn’t upset about that anymore, he just wanted to tell Robin his real name and he wanted them to have more fun like they had when they started the movie. “It’s okay-”

“I didn’t even have that because of you. You know how Batman is-well maybe you don’t know how he is, but let me tell you, he’s incredibly paranoid-and I-”

“Robin wait-” Kon tried again.

“It’s actually for Superman in case he gets captured in Gotham and goes nuts-”

“Rob!”

“And I never want you to feel like I would hurt you-” Kon finally just stopped trying to speak and allowed Tim to ramble his tangent-apology hybrid without interruption. His quickly-spoken words blurred together until he ended with, “Please, believe me and forgive me, please.”

Kon grinned. “If you’d shut your trap for one consecutive minute, you’d hear me say that I have already forgiven you.” And the clone was surprised to realize just how much he truly meant that. The worry that had set turmoil in his chest over Tim carrying that horrible rock had dissipated entirely while he was at the Fortress, replaced instead with a longing to be around Tim again and confirmation that he was nothing like Luthor even if they both owned kryptonite. “And I believe you too. Smart to keep that rock on you for Superman; he’s a nut,” he ended with a wink. And Tim grinned back. “By the way, you’re a liar.” Robin opened his mouth to argue that he really was sorry, but Kon clarified before he had the opportunity. “To Bruce.”

“Oh,” Tim bit his lower lip to hide his growing grin. “Well, shut up about that or he will make me leave.”

“We can’t have that,” Kon reported firmly. “If I’m left here alone with that dog, he’ll definitely eat me.” He nodded to Ace, who tilted his head in confusion.

“Ace?” Tim dropped down to his knees by the dog and buried his hands and face into the fur. “He’s just a baby! Come, look.” And he motioned for Kon to kneel down beside him and Ace. Kon was wary but he lowered slowly and scooted closer to Tim while the dog pressed his cold, wet nose against the clone’s front and hair.

He hesitantly raised his hand as Tim guided it to the dog’s back with a hand placed around Kon's wrist, and he brushed his fingertips along the thick fur. The soft touch was comfortable and he trickled his hand down the dog’s back before Tim interlocked his fingers with Kon’s and brought his hand back to the dog head. Kon enjoyed the warmth of Tim’s hand and the dog’s fur. Ace sniffed Kon's face and then, without warning, dragged his sopping wet tongue across the clone's jaw, cheek, and temple. Kon shivered at the feeling and scooted even closer to Tim as his face dried.

“Hey, I have something I want to tell you,” Kon stated, raising his head to look at Robin instead of Ace, and Tim looked back at him curiously. Suddenly the clone felt bashful, cheeks blushing pink and scalp feeling warm. He leaned closer, and whispered, “My name is Kon.”

Tim’s eyes widened and a large smile spread across his face. Kon jumped up to his feet, startling Ace in the process, and he stood with his feet spread apart and his arms held out in the shape of a T, presenting his uniform. “And look what Superman gave me!”

Tim laughed and stood up too. “Wow! I didn’t know Clark had a sense of style,” he snickered and tugged on the collar of his leather jacket. 

“Not this, Rob,” Kon emphasized with an eye roll. “I mean what’s under it.” And Robin feigned surprise that the article carrying the famous symbol was the one from Superman, slapping his hands to his cheeks and gasping loudly. Kon gave him a gentle shove.

Tim regained his footing and sobered slightly as he said with sincerity, “I love your name, Kon.”

The clone’s cheeks warmed again and he almost wished to change the subject quickly. “So, Lex called you Tim. So much for Robin, huh?”

Tim grinned and shrugged apathetically. “You can call me Robin if you want.”

Kon decided then that he had meditated enough for the night and he wanted to be with Tim instead. With the radiating warmth in his chest, he pulled Tim out of the library and into the kitchen where Alfred was pulling a tray from the oven. The smell of sweet, buttery dough wafted throughout the room, a scent Kon hadn’t experienced through his own nose, but he salivated at once. They climbed onto stools at the kitchen island and eagerly watched Alfred work.

“Good evening, Master Tim. I thought you were away for the night. Your parents agreed to you coming out so late and in such foul weather?” He asked even as he dropped his task to stand behind Tim and remove his dripping coat for him. He hung the coat up on a hook by the door, and returned to the sink to wash his hands.

Soft red brushed across Tim's cheeks and reached the tips of his ears. “Yes,” he stated with finality, but Kon heard the small waver. He understood it too, because he would also have a very difficult time lying to Alfred. The old man hummed with interest though, and a hint of disbelief, before he slid a spatula underneath the warm pastries and stacked them onto a plate.

“That is interesting,” Bruce spoke, as he suddenly appeared in the room by the doorway, causing both boys to jump. Kon had been so intrigued by the sweet and savory smell and the lightly crispy sounds of the food, he didn’t even hear Bruce approach. He was glad Kal wasn’t present to witness his oversight. “Because I was almost positive you told me yesterday that they wanted you to stay home tonight. We postponed patrol together because of that.”

Tim didn’t buckle though, to Kon’s surprise. The clone knew undoubtedly that he would have under both stares. Tim simply stated, “They changed their minds, B.”

“So you are here for patrol?” Bruce clarified, crossing his arms over his chest and eyes flickering to Kon in amusement. Kon didn’t understand the joke, but he flashed the man a grin anyway, hoping that was the right thing to do. Tim stammered, also glancing at Kon as he was unable to make a coherent sound. It was obvious he hadn’t showed up with the intention to patrol tonight, but when he finally fumbled his way around a ‘yes,’ Bruce clapped his hands together and said, “Wonderful. Go get dressed. It’s already far too late, and Dick is waiting for us.”

Appearing fully chastised and defeated, though without ever being yelled at as Kon realized, Tim pushed away from the kitchen island and stalked out of the kitchen, grabbing a pastry on his way out. The trio watched him leave, and when he was out of earshot, Alfred let an amused huff of air slip.

“That boy is a liar,” Bruce stated plainly, the words sounded matter-of-fact but not angry. Kon looked carefully at his face for a sign of danger, for a hint of Robin needing help, but there wasn’t one to be found. “He’s only here for you,” he said plainly and nodded toward Kon, who lowered his gaze quickly in response, face set aflame at that information.

“Impressive liar, though,” Alfred insisted. “I wanted to believe him.”

Bruce nudged the plate of pastries toward Kon before slipping out of the kitchen himself. Kon tried to follow him out, ready to volunteer to help the trio on patrol, since Bruce had said Dick was going to join them. Patrol with three of his friends sounded way more fun than sitting here in the quiet manor with a dog who only sort of liked him now. But Alfred shook his head firmly, explaining simply that Kon was not to go out with the others.

Kon's stomach rumbled quietly, but the food suddenly became unappetizing as a wave of sadness crept over him. He had been so close to hanging out with Robin again, goofing around and stopping bad guys, just like they had in the penthouse together. But now he was being kept inside. Kal had promised that they could return to the Fortress of Solitude any time they wanted, and Kon wanted to go now. But he knew that wish was unrealistic, and with palpable regret, Alfred explained himself to the clone in a gentle voice. "Bruce wishes that you remain safe. Especially if there are less than pleasant people trying to find you. Bruce and the others will be back soon though. I recommend you rest until then, but if you would rather wait up for them in the library, I will grant you that wish."

Kon just shook his head. He wanted to wait up alone and in his room under the blankets. Without trying the pastry that had smelled so wonderful, or even bidding the old man a good night, he slipped out of the kitchen and slowly flew upstairs. He didn't want to change out of his clothes yet or brush his teeth, a task that he had never completed on his own but knew about based on the donated memories. Dick told him earlier he had a tooth brush in his bathroom, but he just waned to lay down in his bed and impatiently wait for his friends to return.

As he lay in bed between sheets that were still damp from his drying body earlier that night, he held still and listened out. He tried to focus on the heartbeats that he heard, and he tried to find those that belonged to Robin, Bruce, and Dick. But all of the wet thunking sounds radiating from the chests all throughout Gotham sounded the exact same to him, hardly varying between person to person. And so listening was fruitless, and he closed his eyes instead, welcoming the tug of sleep that had been itching at his eyeballs since before he left the Fortress.

He woke up the next morning to the sight of steady rising sunlight streaming in through his window and warming his bedroom. Kon listened to the manor and was delighted to find a total of five heartbeats present, excluding his own. He pushed the blankets back and he hopped out of the bed, ready to begin his day. The clone showered and brushed his teeth under the streaming water, though the taste of toothpaste was startling and one that he knew he would need to become accustomed to. But when he finished, he stepped out of the shower and nearly cursed himself, because he still didn't have a towel.

But he did know which door belonged to Robin.

Kon contemplated his plan for several seconds before he stripped his bed, wrapped the lining sheet around his body several times, and he stepped out of his room. He knew two other breathing heartbeats resided on the same floor as him, and there were three downstairs (one of which included Ace). So his toes lifted from the floor and he moved silently through the air until he stopped by Robin's bedroom door. He nearly opened the door, but stopped at the last second because he realized the motion could be taken as an intrusion of privacy instead of just a wish for a towel (and another deeper wish to see him again).

So he knocked.

He listened to the soft shuffling inside the room, the sounds of one pushing his own blankets back and grumbling under his breath. Footsteps heavy with sleep approached the small slit of light that bled out under the door and into the hallway, and when Tim opened his bedroom door, Kon froze. Robin was rubbing at his own eyes-his own naked eyes-hard to rid them of sleep. And then his head lifted up to look at Kon, and he blinked slowly until his gaze was set on the clone with two bright blue irises surrounding his pupils. Robin's hair was stuck up in places from rolling around in his sleep, and he had indents from the pillow sitting softly on his cheek. Tim's lips were pursed in the struggle to hold his eyes open and focus on Kon, who had stopped altogether.

Kon shot back into his own room and slammed his door closed behind him before he dropped down to his knees. He had felt breathless. He shook his head quickly. He had seen Robin before, though he had to admit that of course he hadn't seen his eyes yet. But he had seen him and so his hair and his lips and his cheek shouldn't have affected him like this. But those eyes. The clone slammed both palms over his face and rubbed intently, trying to shake himself out of whatever illness he was fallen under. He was probably just exhausted, he settled in his mind. He was exhausted from a lack of sleep, and he was confused because he hadn't seen Tim's eyes before. He looked down at his lap and huffed out a frustrated breath because he still hadn't received a towel.

He couldn't go back there now though; the mere idea of it sent his heart racing. His cheeks were flushed deep with embarrassment and he wanted to disappear forever. So he came to terms with the fact that twice in a row now, he would be drying off with bed sheets, and he moved to stand up when a soft knock against his own door made him jump. He fell forward with a thump and a yelp of surprise, landing on the carpet tangled in sheets. He considered just crawling under the bed and living there permanently. But whoever was outside his door-he knew exactly who was outside his door-was still there and waiting on him. So he shimmied out of the sheets, stood and readjusted them around his waist, and then he opened the door. Kon tried to appear as casual as possible, and not like he had just fallen onto his face because a clone with super hearing allowed someone to sneak up on him when he was too busy listening to the pounding of his own heart against his rib cage. But his face was still pink and his chest heaved slightly. Tim stood before him, face still bare of a domino mask, and he held a stack of towels up and toward Kon.

"Alfred probably just forgot," Tim whispered in a voice wrecked from sleep, and he grinned.

Kon could see the outline of a hand print decorating the side of his face, proof of suffering an almighty slap the previous night, a mark that he had somehow missed before in his consumption of looking at Tim's eyes. And instead of accepting the towels, his brow furrowed and he reached out to him. Tim didn't move as he watched the clone's hand approach his face, and Kon brushed the pads of his fingers against the bruising.

"Oh, that guy just got a lucky shot. But he ended up looking way worse," Tim snickered wholeheartedly. "Especially because Dick was there to see that. Dick is an entire reckoning all by himself."

Kon's hand fell to the towels and he accepted them with a soft appreciation and a bashful smile. Tim winked and turned on his heel, a habit picked up from Dick, heading back to his room where he closed the door again. The clone stood still and listened for a moment until he heard Tim crawl back into bed and settle in under the blankets for more rest. And Kon looked down at the towels. He didn't have to ask for these-just stand pathetically and embarrassed in front of his room way too early in the morning. But Tim knew what he wanted and he brought them anyway. And somehow, this made his chest feel swollen and full, and he stepped back into his own room.

Breakfast was interesting. He sat at the large dining room table because when he tried to sit with Alfred in the kitchen, the older man shooed him out and led him to an empty place mat. Bruce was already sitting at the table himself, drinking coffee and absently patting at Ace's head, who was loyally positioned next to him and watching the clone with lazy eyes. Bruce asked if Kon had slept well, an attempt at small talk that Kon didn't care for. He answered anyway, but the clone wanted to talk about patrol and how he could sign up for their next outing. He especially wanted to participate if there were people out in the world hitting Tim. He started by subtly asking how Batman's night was, and Bruce answered softly that it was fine.

When that wasn't enough, Kon jumped right into it. "I would like to join you three tonight when you fight." Bruce appeared surprised at that request for half a second, but he just shook his head and took another sip of his coffee. Dick entered the dining room and slumped into a chair as Kon frowned deeply and protested in a raised voice, "But you already know that I am strong. And I can fly. I also have laser eyes, and I have been practicing using those with Kal. You can call him if you don't believe me, and he will tell you that I am ready."

Dick quickly became intrigued by their conversation, but he was polite enough to feign disinterest as he scrolled on his phone. Bruce sighed, "It isn't about strength; I know you are strong. But you coming out is unnecessary. You don't need to fight, you can stay here and relax."

"Why," Kon asked through gritting teeth, "would I need to relax?"

Bruce stammered, glancing at Dick and then Alfred who had just walked in carrying plates of breakfast. Neither provided any help though. "Because," he finally whispered as though what he was about to say was some big secret, "-because you are a kidnap victim; you don't need to be out there fighting. We want you to stay here, safe and comfortable." Kon didn't have much of an argument for that. He supposed he was a kidnap victim, and being safe and comfortable is probably the exact reason Kal had called Bruce instead of taking him along on his journey back to Luthor's laboratory. But he didn't want to stay home alone, and the thought created a sadness that Bruce must have seen because the man asked, "Were you bored last night?"

Bored. Lonely. Kon figured the words were similar enough, and he nodded. He picked up his fork and used it to stir around the small pile of scrambled eggs and sausage on his plate.

Bruce appeared pained and he glanced at Dick again, who was eating his own breakfast silently with eyes averted. Kon stabbed a piece of egg with his fork just as he heard shuffling from upstairs leak through the cieling. He perked up just as Ace did because the sound suggested Tim was getting out of bed. Kon couldn't help the small smile that he wore now, and he slowly brought the piece of food to his mouth, chewing carefully and swallowing with trepidation. The bite was successful and he shifted with excitement in his chair as the upstairs bedroom door opened with a creak. Bruce was watching this with silence, and he said quietly, seemingly to no one in particular though Kon knew it was for him, "Weekends are always more quiet than the weekdays though. I think Robin can take the night off."

Dick snorted and rolled his eyes, murmuring something about how Bruce was too soft under his breath, but he also looked happier as the anxiety-ridden atmosphere around the trio disappeared. Dick's shoulders were slumped with relief now and he turned back to his phone.

To Kon's increased delight, Tim was still mask-less when he entered the dining room, and his blue eyes wandered until they landed on Kon, to whom he flashed a grin. When Alfred reappeared with a plate of breakfast for Tim, he reported to the older man, "Hey, Alfred, Kon didn't have any towels this morning. He showed up to my room wearing a bed sheet." And the man's eyes widened in sudden grief even as Kon's face warmed with embarrassment. And after breakfast, Kon was sent back up to his bathroom carrying no less than ten folded, fluffy towels varying in color and level of fluff.

The day passed by smoothly. Bruce retired to his room to sleep, as Kon heard by the steadying of his heartbeat, and Alfred was busy beneath the manor in the cave, according to Tim. Dick suggested they all watch TV, and he led them into the living room for a marathon of Wendy the Werewolf Stalker. The show started out cheesy, but Kon immediately found himself hooked on the story, leaning closer to the TV (despite the two boys snickering at him) and he watched in awe. The channel announced a short break after six episodes, something that brought a frustrated groan to Kon's throat, but the commercial promised more to come throughout the weekend. At that, Tim promised him they would watch more of the show during his stay there. The next show started, one far more boring, and Kon slumped lower into the couch, picking thoughtlessly at a loose thread on the cushion. After a few minutes passed, Tim wordlessly stood up from the couch and silently tugged on Kon's wrist to encourage him up before he led him toward the base of the stairs. Kon glanced at Dick, but found he was busy on his phone and ignoring the younger two completely.

They reached the base of the stairs, and Tim finally asked with excitement, "Want to see my room?" Kon did want to see his room, so he kept quiet when the urge to claim he technically saw it this morning pushed at his tongue. He nodded. On the second floor, Tim opened his door and Kon was excited to see the posters that littered the walls; pictures of superheroes, people on skateboards, and a few movie posters that Kon thought looked interesting. His bookshelf was cluttered with books whose clean spines faced him. Small figures stood in front of the books, movie characters and LEGO pieces. His desk was overflowing with open notebooks, text books, and writing utensils. Kon traced his finger across the paper and raised an interested eyebrow at the math problem he found scribbled out. He was very excited to see that he understood the problem and could solve it without requiring paper or a calculator.

Despite being told Tim did not live here with Bruce Wayne, the room looked very much lived in.

"Do you like it, Kon?" Tim asked with a grin, standing nervously in the center of the room while the clone walked around and looked at everything. He was studying a Superman poster when the younger asked this question, and he faced Tim with a smile of his own. He loved the way his name sounded when it came from Tim, he felt it made it more his as it was said by someone whose company he loved. And he did like the room; seeing the various objects and posters made him excited to decorate his very own room with Kal.

"I love it," he answered honestly, and he picked up a small LEGO car. It was red and the wheels moved. "This stuff is so rad. Will you help me make my room?" He asked before he could stop himself. The two were friends, he already knew, so it probably wasn't so strange to preemptively invite Tim to a room that he hasn't even seen-and he technically didn't even know existed. But it felt right. And after he saw the change in Tim's expression, he knew it was the right thing to ask. Tim lit up like the lamp sitting beside Kon on the desk, cheeks brightening and eyes widening as he began to chatter excitedly about all of the stuff they could look for at the stores he listed.

As promised, Bruce allowed Robin to take the evening off, claiming that Gordon promised the streets were quiet enough. But he still required Tim finish his math homework after dinner, because apparently that was something he had promised the night before when Bruce questioned him again about leaving his parents' house. And when Tim didn't speak a word of complaint, Kon saw Dick muffle a laugh behind his hand as he turned away from the library in which they were all sitting. The homework was simple, especially with Kon glancing over his shoulder and whispering the correct answers after only a split second pause. They did this in Tim's room to avoid Alfred watching them cheat, a word Tim claimed but Kon countered that it was teamwork, and snitching to Bruce about it. They sat on the carpeted floor across from each other, and when they finished the homework, Kon decided it was time to take another shower. He didn't feel disgusting or sticky like he had the previous day, but he did feel cold. And he no longer smelled the light remnants of soap on his own skin. So he excused himself from Tim's room and excitedly made his way to his own, where a stack of towels waited for him on his unmade bed.

The shower was hot and incredible, and he chose the vanilla soap again. When he stepped out, he looked into the fogged mirror and though his own reflection was obstructed, he knew he looked happy this time, which stood in stark contrast to the day before. He draped a towel over his shoulder and pressed his face into another, breathing deep and laughing into his exhale. He changed back into his Kryptonian uniform and his feet lifted from the ground in his joy as he flew back to Tim's room.

He found Tim lying on his back with his head hanging off the side of the bed and his feet absently kicking around at the pillows by the headboard. He had a pair of headphone hanging around his neck and he was humming quietly along with the song that spit out through the earbuds. He relaxed to see Kon entering his room, and he grinned in welcome.

"What is this?" Kon asked, pointing to the headphones and straining to hear the words and melody. He had heard music twice before through his own ears: once in Bruce's car before and after his nightmare, and once during the very beginning of the Star Wars movie they started in the penthouse.

“This is MCR. Do you like it?” Tim asked as he rolled over onto his belly, and he motioned for Kon to lay down next to him on the mattress. Tim's eyes were still so wide and beautiful as they were set on Kon, and after a silent, deep breath, Kon laid on the bed next to him, also on his stomach. "Want to hear it better?" Tim asked even as he held up the opposite ear bud and pushed it against Kon's ear.

“It’s sort of loud,” the clone noted softly, realizing how silly it sounded regarding a song that was only coming through a small ear piece. The guitars and drums were harsh, and the singing voice sounded so rough and angry. But Tim nodded in polite understanding, and he flipped through his phone for another song.

“I love music," he informed Kon in a serious voice. "It is the best thing in the world, and we will find something that you love too. Okay, how about something softer.” And he selected another song.

Kon leaned closer, glancing at the screen and reading the song title: ‘Still Into You’ by a band called Paramore. When the words sprung to life, he was happy to learn this song was sung by a woman, and it did sound nicer than the previous. He paused and silently listened to the words, but as he came to understand what the song was about, his face turned pink as he realized how close he was to Tim. Their arms and hips were pressed together, and their legs brushed occasionally as Tim gently kicked out at the bed. His gaze flicked over to the other's face. Tim's eyelashes were dark and long over his blue eyes. The smallest brush of freckles laid across the bridge of his nose, and his lips were so pink.

Kon's pulse quickened at the sight, and his gaze fell again. His cheeks were burning at this point, red and hot even without touching it. He felt his body stiffen with nerves. He understood the meaning of the song, and he knew it was about being in love with someone. It was a strange saying, but he knew what it meant to have butterflies, and when Tim's leg brushed against his once more, he realized the phrase was created by one who had felt it themselves. His stomach was turning and crawling, as though small fluttering insects plagued his insides. He wanted to hear Tim's take on it, so he asked with feigned confusion, "What does this song mean?"

And with a small shrug, Tim informed him it was about having a crush. Kon's cheeks flushed impossibly further and his palms felt sweaty even though they were just resting on the mattress in front of him. His gaze rose again to land on Tim's lips, though he wasn't sure why he was so attracted to the appearance. He watched the curve of the front of his upper lip in near-stupor, how it glistened slightly from where he had previously wet them with his tongue. Kon knew he wanted to reach out and brush his thumb against the other's mouth, where his lips met in the corners. But then Tim turned his head to look at Kon, and the clone panicked.

"Want to go flying?" He sputtered out quickly, and Tim brightened up.

"Flying?" A wide grin spread across his lips-those lips. He nodded hurriedly and Kon felt a burst of joy and relief fill his chest, radiating all of the way through his fingertips and toes. The warmth of his telekinesis was so strong in fact, that it jarred Tim and nearly pushed him off the bed. Kon spit out a quick apology, and his words were met with senseless giggling as Tim recovered from the invisible shove. Kon jumped up from the bed and wrapped a hand around the other's wrist, tugging him along gently to the window.

Tim peered out at the several foot drop from the second-story window, and he asked, "Okay, so how do we do this? Think happy thoughts?"

Kon hummed in consideration and remembered how he had wrapped his arms around Kal's neck. He felt so secure there, suspended in the air and resting against the alien's back while he watched the earth pass by him below. He reached down to grasp at both of Tim's wrists, and guided him to face the clone's back while he pulled Tim's arms around his neck. Tim hadn't stopped giggling yet, legs shaking mildly with nerves, and Kon asked, "Have you done this before?"

"Never. Dick used to fly with Superman. And I think he said he even took Jason with him a few times, but not me."

"You and Batman fly all of the time though," Kon countered, thinking back to the alley where they had met, and how the younger had completely disappeared from his view during their race on the rooftop.

"Those are wires... and I am the one in control of those." Kon faltered, wondering if this may be a bad idea. He wasn't nervous when he flew with Kal because not only did he completely trust the alien, but he knew he could also fly himself if he were to slip from his back. Tim could not. He pulled Tim's arms tighter around his own neck, and his toes lifted from the ground. Tim shifted on his back as gravity pulled on him, and he wiggled his arms uncomfortably at Kon's shoulders as he hung from his neck.

Kon opened the window and slipped out into the cool air before becoming horizontal, just like Superman had, so Tim was lying on his stomach over Kon's back with his cheek pressed between the clone's shoulder blades. Tim grunted a halt with discomfort, and he shifted around until he was sitting upright on Kon's lower back with his legs wrapped around the clone's hips. He gripped the back of his collar and begged, "You won't drop me, right?"

Kon looked down at the ground far below him with careful eyes. A fall from this height would hurt Tim, and he was planning on flying much higher than this. But holding Robin's weight on his back felt like a feather, as he was not a burden at all. And he would never let him drop. "Never."

Tim's back was hunched as he bent down and wrapped his arms around Kon's neck again, loose in circumference but firm in grasp. Kon could feel Tim was holding his breath as he ascended above the manor's roof and the tops of the stretching trees. And as he neared the clouds, Tim's muttered, "Too high." And Kon stopped. He remained still in the sky while Tim took deep breaths just behind him, waiting until he felt the arms loosen slightly from their death grip. And then Tim sat up again, fingers wrapping around the back of Kon's collar again as he looked out at the world.

When he was ready, Kon began to move forward. He started with a slight jerk that drew a hiss from between Robin's teeth, followed immediately by a chuckle as the younger regained his balance and began accustomed to the movement. Kon slowly gained speed and soon they blew past Gotham's exit, flying to the west and chasing the stars. The clone relished in the sound of Tim's gleeful laughing from just behind him, and he shivered at the warm breath tickling his scalp and neck. And they flew for hours, the comfortable quiet interrupted when Tim pointed out interesting billboards and running animals, before Kon began to feel tired. He turned back toward Gotham and shot forward, not nearly as fast as he flew with Kal, but faster than he had gone that evening. The speed drew cackling from Robin as he clung to Kon's back resembling a koala. The breeze seemed cooler as they reentered Gotham and a soft drizzle fell over them.

When Kon finally stopped, Tim opened his eyes and looked around, surprised to find they were not back at the manor, but downtown instead. "Kon?" He asked softly, the name sounding heavy when spoken through cold lips.

"Didn't I owe you food?" Kon asked and tilted his head down at the bright neon sign. Kon had brought the pair to the pizza place acting as the wager from their first race. When realization hit, Tim laughed loudly, throwing his head back with glee. "I still don't have money, but I could probably swipe some when no one is looking," he added with a wink.

"Don't bother," Tim snickered and directed Kon to drop him off at the roof. He dug in his pocket and pulled out a ten-dollar bill. "Five dollars even, when you get a soda." Kon plucked the bill from his fingers, and Tim grimaced, sobered. "I cannot come in with you without my mask." It was obvious he felt this was detrimental, but Kon merely shrugged, left Robin on the roof with a wink, and lowered himself to the ground.

To Kon's surprise, when the employers and customers saw him fly in while clad in Superman's symbol, they cheered loudly, whooping vocally and clapping their hands together with glee. "Superboy!" They cried out for him, clearly recognizing the woman's popular post from a few nights prior, and Kon huffed out in annoyance. He wanted to prove to them that he wasn't Superboy, as he found that title incredibly insulting. But Tim was waiting on him right on the roof, and that was clearly more important. So Kon painted on a flashy grin, held up a peace sign for a group of teenagers who begged for a photo, and strolled up to the counter where the owner waited for him, holding a large pizza box and a 2-Liter of soda.

"It's on-tha house," the man informed him in a thick accent, and Kon smiled, hoping that phrase meant free. He dropped the bill on the counter anyway, thanked him for the significant discount, and strolled out with the winnings.

He found the look on Robin's face to be priceless when he returned to him holding an entire pizza box. "I'm famous," he informed Tim with a wink and took his place sitting beside the other. The mist was gentle, only mildly annoying now and easy to ignore while he sat so close to Tim. Their arms brushed against each other again and they were both thankful for Tim's hoodie and Kon's long sleeves. He opened the box lid and his eyes widened at the cheesy mess he found inside. Tim reached in immediately and snatched a piece, and Kon followed in suit.

He loved the burst of garlic and butter against his tongue when he took his first bite, followed by a kick of spice in the sauce and that incredible cheese. He hummed all throughout the bite, and he opened his mouth for more by the time Tim already reached the crust of his own piece. Kon waited for Tim to drink from the large bottle of soda before he reached out for it. The drink was sugary but bubbling too, nearly stinging his mouth and he blinked in surprise, swallowing even as it burned his throat. He preferred the water bottle and the tea from Alfred.

Kon doesn't know why he brought it up when they had been so happy throughout the weekend, but after Tim reached for his second slice, Kon asked, "Do you still want to know why I was naked when we first met?"

Tim sobered, hand faltering mid-air on the way to deliver the food to his mouth. This was proof that he knew at least somewhat.

"It was because Lex Luthor never gave me clothes," Kon whispered, and Tim replaced the uneaten slice back in the box before turning to face Kon instead of the road below them. "He took them again... when I woke up after the penthouse, he had taken them again." Kon's mind was working only on autopilot now. He hardly realized this was still something that upset him, and he dragged his eyes up to meet Tim's wide, sad ones. "Superman gave me a name. And he gave me these clothes. And Bruce gave me clothes. And I am here with you now, eating this food. But sometimes I am afraid it isn't really happening-that it's all just a dream and I will suffer when I wake up again."

Tim reached out to him slowly, and he placed a cold hand on Kon's knee. "Lex Luthor won't touch you again. I swear," his voice was astonishing in its fierceness, and Kon found only truth shining through the younger's eyes. "You are with us now. You're an honorary bat."

Despite himself, Kon smirked at that. "What am I? Kon-Bat? Bat-Kon?"

"The Flying Bat," Tim giggled into his palm. "Soaring Bat."

"Rad Bat," Kon tried again, hardly containing his own laughter. He laid down on his back, feeling the cold water seep into his uniform and coat the skin of his back with chills. The stars above him were more dim than they had appeared while he was at the Fortress, but they could still be traced with a finger. "Kal gave me his last name too, did you know that?" Tim shook his head no, and he laid down beside the clone. "He gave me the name Kon-El. His family name, he told me."

"He is your family," Tim stated plainly.

"So are you," Kon stated without hesitation, and he rolled over to face Tim, holding his hand up with his palm facing out. Tim grinned and returned the motion like they had after Kon looked at Tim's camera roll. A minute passed and Tim's hand was shaking with chills that consumed his body. "We should go back," Kon decided and he climbed back up to his feet, bending over to pull Tim up too. They flew again in their familiar fashion, with Tim's legs wrapped tight around the clone's waist, and his arms clutching at his collar. Kon offered to carry the soda and pizza box, and in the blink of an eye, they had returned to the manor.

Kon slowly transitioned into a vertical position when he reached the open window, and Tim was suddenly carried piggy-back with a tight grip around his neck. Kon easily slid through the window and landed with wet feet on the warm carpet. The change between the cool air and the warm house was incredibly welcome and he sighed happily as he felt the goosebumps settle on his arms. He opened his mouth to speak to Tim, but he stopped when he felt the boy tense against his back.

"Timothy." Kon's head snapped up at the unexpected sound, surprising himself to see Bruce and Alfred both waiting by the open door frame of Tim's room. Dick was notably absent, and Bruce was free of his Batman uniform, wearing sweat pants and a t-shirt instead. He appeared pale with worry, but he was also frowning and his eyebrows were lowered over his eyes. "Do you have any idea what time it is? Where have you been?"

Tim stammered as he slid down from Kon's back, stepping sheepishly around the clone and facing the adults. "We got dinner."

"You had dinner," Alfred corrected with a cocked eyebrow. "Don't you remember sitting down with us and eating?"

Tim's face heated with embarrassment. He opened his mouth to respond, but Bruce beat him to it, "It is three in the morning. You were supposed to be here." He emphasized with a finger pointed down to the carpet. The man sighed and turned to Kon before speaking to the clone in a quiet voice, "Go on to bed." Kon felt frozen in place, hands trembling and legs turned to stone. Only when he felt all three pairs of eyes on him expectantly, he gulped and nodded in what felt like slow-motion. Taking the first step took herculean effort, but he did this until he was out in the hallway, holding his breath as he was forced to slide between the two adults. He turned back around to glance at Tim with pleading eyes, but Alfred sent him away with another tilt of his head.

Kon slipped into his own room, closing the door nervously behind him and pausing to listen to their continued conversation through the wall. His heart pounded in his chest, and he had difficulty hearing the words over the sounds of his own beating pulse.

"I need to know that you are safe. You didn't have your phone with you?" Kon was relieved to find that Bruce didn't sound angry, just nervous while speaking through a wavering voice. But he wished he wasn't forced to leave Tim alone in there with two disappointed people facing him.

"I forgot it, I swear it wasn't on purpose. I am really sorry. We were super safe though, we just flew around."

"You flew around Gotham? Timmy, you have to tell me about that stuff before you do it." And there was a long pause, before he added. "I am glad you are back here and safe. You-" -scared me, Kon heard the silent ending, even as Bruce didn't say it. Despite his furrowed brows, he had looked terrified when Kon looked up at his face. And the clone was reminded again of Kal saying Bruce had lost someone. Flying in the middle of the night seemed so silly now when compared to the grief it must have caused Bruce if he had been thinking of his previous loss. And the man didn't even yell when they returned. He spoke in a firm voice of course and it terrified Kon, but he wasn't yelling like Luthor did. And even though he knew it existed somewhere in Bruce's belongings, no one was throwing that painful green rock at him. He heard Bruce sigh deeply, followed by the sound of a mattress moving as someone sat on the bed. "No more sneaking out, understand?" And there was a pause as Kon assumed Tim was nodding. He listened carefully and found that Tim's heart was beating quickly, but it hadn't sped up more since he first spotted Bruce waiting for him. "You want to hang out with Kon, I understand, but you tell me first. Promise?" Tim promised. Another silent pause passed and Kon leaned closer to listen as Bruce whispered, "Did you have fun?"

Tim must have nodded because the next thing Kon heard was the younger snickering, "I see why you catch so many rides from Supes now. It was awesome."

"Those times are not for fun, brat," Bruce retorted and then Tim laughed louder, settling Kon's beating heart further. He sucked in a deep breath, held it for several seconds, and then exhaled again.

They weren't in trouble really, just told to do something a little different next time, Kon realized. And he could definitely handle that. He smiled at the thought of Tim laughing on the roof, head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut with joy. And he waited with wide eyes for Bruce to bid Tim goodnight and retire downstairs alongside Alfred. As soon as he heard their heartbeats collect in a room on the floor before him, Kon jumped up and silently left his room to move toward Tim's. He didn't bother knocking but he did turn the knob with his telekinesis before poking his head into the room. Tim was sitting up in bed and seemingly waiting for him to come back.

"That was awesome," Tim hissed with a wide grin and raised eyebrows. "It was so much fun, we have to do that again!"

And Kon knew then that he would do absolutely anything for Tim. He would move the earth for him, and he would part seas. He would do anything.

Seeing that Tim was fine after being chastised by the Batman, seemingly unbothered and stifling giggles, brought warmth back to Kon's chest. But he still had pause. "Bruce was mad."

Tim was already shaking his head by the time Kon finished his statement, and he clarified in a whisper. "He's just worried. Bruce gets really worried sometimes. But he isn't mad at us. I promise." And the younger held up his pinky finger to the clone, who raised an eyebrow in confusion. This was something he hadn't done before, not as himself or via the borrowed memories. But Tim gently pulled Kon's hand up toward him with his opposite one, and he singled out the clone's pinky before he wrapped his own around it. "I promise," he repeated.

It took Kon a long time to fall asleep that night, lying in his own bed and staring at the cieling as he thought of Tim. Tim's laugh, Tim's eyes, Tim's grip around his shoulders and waist. He enjoyed the warmth of Tim wrapped around him and the fun they had on the rooftop. He turned in his bed, unable to get comfortable while giddy happiness washed over him in heavy waves. Bruce's heartbeat had steadied in his own room. Alfred's and Dick's had as well. And even Ace was asleep somewhere downstairs. But Kon's own heart was beating heavily with a mixture of nerves and pleasure-the butterflies, he knew. They were butterflies causing him grief, but they had burst from cocoons in his heart instead of his stomach. And the last thought he had before sleep finally took him was that Tim's heart was beating fast too, several doors down the hall.

When he awoke the next morning, he groaned softly in defiance. The sun was far too bright, and his limbs were far too achy. Carrying someone on his back across several states without break in the middle of the night seemed to catch up to him now and he pressed his face into the pillow beneath his head to block out the light. Just before slumber claimed him again, though, he heard a chipper voice from the floor below him, and he couldn't help but listen to the conversation.

“I can’t believe you’re being so nice to him when he’s obviously trying to date Timmy. Skipping the ancient, toxic shovel talk and everything?” Dick's voice traveled easily through the cieling, and Kon found that his heartbeat was joined by three more (one being Ace), and they came from the dining room.

“What?” Bruce asked at the same time Tim also asked, “Huh?”

Kon frowned largely, freezing in place and listening carefully to the conversation taking place below him. His heart pounded in his chest immediately and radiated into his temples, and he felt a foreign buildup of irritation deep in his chest. He wasn’t really sure why he felt this way because obviously Tim was free to date whomever he wanted.

Except.

He remembered how he felt when he laid next to Tim and listened to music. He had noticed the other’s long eyelashes and his sloped nose. And his pink lips. Kon’s cheeks were flushed again at the mere thought and those annoying butterflies nose-dove throughout his stomach, dancing across his nerves and tickling his burning skin.

Dick snorted. “What’re you both, blind? He’s been trying to flirt with you and you’re acting like a complete doorknob about it. Is that your attempt at playing hard to get?”

Kon scoffed at the thought. He sort of knew what that phrase meant, and he hated that Tim had a plan set out to date this mysterious person by utilizing a technique that nearly promised complete success. But Kon still didn't understand why he was becoming angry at the thought-because he wanted Tim to be happy.

“Dick, stop it. He doesn’t know what that means."

“I do too know what it means! But I’m not. I’m too... busy for that.”

Tim’s haughty answer both provided Kon with hope and filled him with confusing grief. The feeling of suffering gripped his throat and he wished he could stop listening to the conversation. Curiosity was a damning thing though as he strained harder to hear the next part, fighting to catch every word and change in heartbeat.

“Busy doing what?” Dick challenged with an obvious smirk coloring his words.

“Well, I have Robin,” Tim emphasized loudly, accented by the sound of his palm slapping against the table. “And skateboarding. Plus Dad is teaching me about cars.”

“You already know about cars, Tim,” Bruce tisked, and the newspaper pages the man held ruffled.

“But it’s still fun with Dad. And why are you on Dick's side anyway?" Tim demanded.

But Bruce chuckled softly, and answered, "Because I know about last night, baby." And Kon froze under the realization that they may have been talking about him.

Another slap of palms against wood sounded as Dick exclaimed excitedly, "What about last night?" Tim hissed for him to shut up and forget it, clearly scowling based on the angry grumbled that escaped his mouth. But he added in a huffy voice that he was also too busy with school, so they were both wrong. Dick sighed and settled on ending the conversation with a bored, “You are lame.” And a chair scraped across the floor followed shortly by a scuffle that eventually elicited in a small yelp from Tim and a sigh from Bruce.

With a soft huff, Kon threw his blanket aside and crawled out of bed. He shucked his clothes and stepped into the hot shower, hoping the steam would provide his mind and muscles with the relief he craved. Kal's voice sounded from his mind and suggested meditation; so after he stepped out of the shower and covered himself in warm, comfortable towels, he sat cross-legged on the mattress. Kon took a deep, cleansing breath, and he closed his eyes.

Meditation came easy after his warm shower, and his mind slipped away from all worries for an uncountable amount of time. He thought peacefully of his time visiting VR Krypton, and the faces of his grandfather and namesake. The memory of children laughing and playing fluttered throughout the insides of his eyelids and his breathing leveled out comfortably. Finally, the sound of the front doorbell ringing cleared his mind and yanked him back to reality. And his eyes opened as he heard Bruce greeting Kal-El below him.

Chapter Text

“How was he?” Kon heard Superman ask Bruce at the front door of the manor, a full floor below him but he had no difficulty hearing their voices and heartbeat. He jumped up from the bed in excitement and wrapped a hand around the doorknob of his guest bedroom before he realized he was still only clad in towels after his shower. To avoid this grand embarrassment, he snatched his Kryptonian suit from its place discarded on the floor and he pulled it on over his legs and chest. He shoved his arms through the sleeves and spared a moment to grab the clothes Kal had granted him in the Fortress-his hoodie, sweatpants, and socks-that were still on the bathroom floor. Finally, he clasped a fist around his leather jacket and ran to his door.

Kon threw open his bedroom door and jumped over Ace, startling the large dog from his spot now outside of Kon’s room-which Kon assumes he must have moved to while the clone was meditating. He quickly reached down to pat the dog’s head in apology before he bounded down the steps toward the voices carrying through the manor. During his descent, Kon shot out one final glace at the framed pictures (now to his right), and he appreciated the smiling faces that seemed to shout out the word family to him. He was excited over the making of his own that could finally begin now that Kal-El had returned.

Kon reached the base floor and burst into the front foyer, where he found the two men speaking in the doorway. He grinned widely and held his arms out wide in presentation as Kal looked up at him and remarked with a smile, “There he is."

Ace followed Kon into the foyer and stopped right beside Bruce, who appeared even more tired this morning as he was leaning heavy on a desk and wiping at his eyes that were emphasized in color by the lightly bruised bags underneath. And as Kon approached the pair, he heard Dick enter the room and come up behind him from his previous place at the dining room table. Dick ruffled Kon's hair as he passed the clone, and he said to Clark, “It’s really good to see you again. It’s been a while!”

“You are always welcome to visit us at the farm,” Clark offered fondly and wrapped an arm around Dick's shoulder in greeting. “That goes for you too,” the alien added as he nodded toward someone walking into the room behind Kon.

Kon turned to find Tim shuffling in, appearing somewhat blushed but still excited to see Superman. “Farm?” Kon whispered to Tim with a grimace, eliciting a snorted laugh from the other. Besides the frigid lab basement, he had been fortunate enough to only sleep in a penthouse and a manor. But a farm sort of insinuated a completely different living arrangement, as provided by his donated memories. The farm in his mind looked like dirt and mud and work, and Kon wasn't exactly sure what that entailed for him in reality.

“Ah, I brought something for two,” Clark announced as Alfred also stepped into the room and greeted their guest. Clark turned to pick up a fabric bag from its place at the table by the front door, right next to Bruce who rolled his eyes dramatically. Kon noticed the man wasn’t frowning like he had been when they came home late the night before. Even though he only wore the ghosts of smiles sometimes, it was not lost on Kon that the only time he had truly looked upset was when they came home late-when he was worried, according to Tim. But the man huffed out a sigh with feigned annoyance and Clark ignored him pointedly to add, "I heard you both had a rough week."

Clark pulled two large rocks out of the bag, both being roughly the size of his fists, and he held them up for everyone to see. They glimmered a shining black in the soft sunlight that brightened the foyer through two windows that straddled the front door, and they were ragged on one side and smooth on the other. Kal explained to his audience that these rocks were from space, which caught Kon’s attention as he gaped slack-jawed at the black stones. Tim was beyond excited, jumping forward and wrapping anticipating hands around the gift, but Dick snorted and accepted the rock with a teasing look that Clark saw. The alien asked, “What, you don’t like space rocks anymore? You used to think these were the coolest.”

“They are the coolest,” Tim whispered in awe, stepping back to stand beside Kon again and allow him the opportunity to hold the precious gem. To his surprise, the rock was cold in his palm, hardly warmed during its time in the bag. Though it appeared chalky up close, the stone left no residue on his fingers as he ran them along the shimmering surface. Tim followed in suit, leaning over the rock in Kon's palm and running his own finger across it to admire the interesting texture.

“Yeah, the first twenty space rocks I got were super cool," Dick responded with an easy grin. "But you know what else is cool? A car.”

“You sound greedy,” Bruce noted with a ticked eyebrow, but Dick was already rolling his eyes at him.

“You never could take a joke, B," he chastised back with a frown. "Besides, you own every single thing you could possibly want in this world, and you call me greedy? You have a dinosaur in the cave. That alone acts as its own defense.”

Kon's gaze jumped up at Tim, and he silently asked for confirmation with eyebrows raised high and mouth hung open. Tim nodded back and murmured, "The thing's huge." And Kon had no idea what to do with that information. But as Bruce and Clark both opened their mouths to argue back with Dick, Kon returned the space stone to Tim's palm and wrapped a hand around his wrist to pull him aside. Tim grinned widely at him as he was led away from the disputing trio.

“This weekend was fun," Kon told him in a small voice. "Want to come with us to Kal’s home now?”

“Can I?” Tim asked, now wearing a surprised look of his own.

“I think so,” he shrugged, but he figured that was probably something he should run by Clark before he handed out invitations for a house that does not belong to him. And so he turned back to the alien, who was speaking diligently to an entirely unconvinced Bruce about something unknown to the clone. “Kal, can Tim come with us? He agreed to help me with my room yesterday.”

Clark’s eyes widened comically under the pressure as Kon, Tim, Dick, Bruce, Alfred, and Ace all turned to look at him. It was obvious that the older two did not agree with this idea and the middle one was only curious to see what Superman would say. The younger two were completely enthralled in the dramatic pause as they leaned forward and waited. The dog had zero interest in the conversation, but he still chose to watch as the alien's gaze flickered across each waiting face. The clock ticking loudly from one room over was the only sound save the heartbeats of several.

“Uhm, no Kon,” he finally answered slowly, averting his eyes from what Kon assumed had to be vast disappointed that spread across his own face. His features morphed into weighing sadness and Kal added even softer, “Not today. Maybe later this week.”

Tim opened his mouth with intentions to respond, but he quickly snapped his jaw shut when Alfred spoke first, "Tomorrow is a school day, Master Timothy. And let's not forget that after last night, you are still grounded."

Tim frowned, but turned back to Clark to ask, "Is there a phone we can call?" And after receiving a knowing smirk from Dick, he added quickly, "You know, so we can check in on you all."

“They have a landline, sure.” The alien hardly finished his answer before Tim spun around and sprinted from the room with a short promise of return. Alfred huffed out a small chuckle and Bruce sighed, giving Clark an interesting look that Kon was unable to interpret.

“They?” Kon asked, interrupting their silent conversation and bringing Kal’s attention back to him. "Who are they?"

“My parents,” the alien answered with a small smile.

The sound of reappearing bare feet against hard wood ceased the following pause, and Kon found Tim returning with a piece of paper and several numbers scribbled across it. “Just call me when we can hang out again,” he instructed, handing the piece of paper over to Kon. In turn, he gripped the paper in a tight grasp, desperate not to lose it.

“Okay, come on now, Kon-El. It is time for us to leave.” Superman beckoned the clone toward the door, who regretfully followed despite the tug at his chest. He had been so excited for Kal to return-and he truthfully was so thrilled to have his own father back. But he wished they could all stay there at the manor together. He didn't even realize Kal had living parents; he believed his virtual father was the only one he had. This startling information brought about new anxieties that they would not like to have their child's clone that was made by Lex Luthor present in the house with them. But he took a deep breath and waved farewell to his hosts as Clark nodded silently for him to put his bundled up clothing in the now-empty bag Clark held in his hands.

"Thanks for the rock, Clark," Tim said before waving back at Kon while wearing a small grin. “Bye, Kon. Thank you for taking me flying.”

Clark’s eyes widened in surprise at this news and though he held the front door open with the palm of his hand from outside of the house, his attention snapped back to Bruce, who met his eyes with a flatted, stoic gaze. The alien opened his mouth to ask for more information about their supposed late-night flight, but Bruce closed his fist around the doorknob and simply stated, “Clark. He needs shoes.” And then the door was closed in Clark's face.

Kal turned to face Kon-El and provided him with an encouraging smile. "I have missed you. Are you okay?" He cupped his warm hands around Kon's face with great gentleness as the clone nodded. He then turned his face to the side before offering in a whisper, “Do you want me to take that out for you now?”

Kon’s cheeks tinted pink as he understood Kal was referring to the frustrating Cadmus tag. But he shook his head firmly and reported, “No, Tim is going to find me an earring, and if I take this out now I think it will close like-" and he pointed at his belly. His healing was blatantly advanced as proved by the pinched skin over the site of his feeding tube. The clone offered to carry his own bag of clothing, but Kal insisted he carry it instead. Kal ticked his head up toward the sky, resulting in a knowing grin from Kon. And together they shot off the ground.

"Those space rocks were really cool," Kon whispered hesitantly. He didn't want to come across as childish, like Lex called him, but he sort of did want a cool space rock too.

"You think so?" Kal asked with an obvious grin. "That is very good to know, because I have a whole box of them at home just waiting to be placed on a bookshelf. And you know, we could go up into space together after we practice to hold our breath for long periods of time, and you can pick out ones that you like the best." Kon appeared particularly enthusiastic about this idea as he nodded hurriedly and performed a somersault in the air with a laugh. "Did you have fun there?” Kal asked as they ascended high above the thick clouds that reflected bright sunlight across their cheeks. The sky was chilled at their elevation, but it still felt good to fly again. Kon nodded in response, cheeks slightly warm now at the thought of his rooftop pizza night with Tim. “I’m glad. Now, what’s this about flying?”

Kon's flight stuttered, smile and stature both wavering with imbalance in the sky. After finally recovering, he shrugged nervously. “We already got the you’ve-been-bad talk from Bruce. Insinuated he was disappointed in us and everything, I heard it through the walls.”

“Through the walls?”

“Well, yeah. Truthfully, Tim got the talk. But I heard it through the walls, so we are all clear there. I didn’t know we weren’t supposed to do that anyway.” And before Superman could decide whether or not that was even enough, Kon asked, “A farm, Kal? Why would you live on a farm?”

Kal had heard Kon's confused whisper in the manor regarding their destination, so this question did not come as a surprise to him. “It’s my parent’s farm, and the home I grew up in. After my father hurt his back a couple years ago, they needed some extra help. So we moved.”

“We?”

“You’ll get to meet everyone, I promise.”

Kon was simultaneously excited and anxious to meet everyone. He trusted Kal fully but still felt wary about other people he would be forced to come into contact with. He wasn't aware of how much information Kal provided for his family, and Kon wondered if it was possible they would force him to leave. The pair flew in tense silence until Kon finally asked a question that had poked at his belly ever since the alien left him at the Wayne manor. “So, you talked to Lex?”

“I did. And with a little incentive, he’s agreed to leave you alone.”

Kon couldn’t help but to scoff as a result. The man had been far too adamant about keeping his clone in the laboratory and turning him into a mind-controlled Superman to simply agree to forget about his hard work. He warned Kal with feigned indifference, “It cannot be that easy. He will try to come back.” Though his voice remained steady he could feel his heartbeat thumping deep in his chest, and he knew Kal could hear it too.

“I will not allow him to do that.”

Kon looked at Kal and found true honesty in the alien’s returning gaze. Luthor was absolutely ruthless, but he also knew that Kal-El was unwavering in his swears. Kon swallowed hard and asked, “Did you see Donovan? The man that you said showed you where I was?”

Superman grimaced. “I didn’t. I’m sorry. Do you want to see him?”

Kon wasn’t sure whether or not he wanted to see Donovan. The clone’s initial belief was that the man was terrifying, merely a moving shadow before his own blurred vision after he first awoke. Then he was the only person to interact with Kon directly, talking to him and answering his questions. Donovan was being supportive and he gave the clone hope. He had put him back to sleep before he broke out the first time, but he also tried to comfort Kon while Lex had only acted in loathing toward him. Donovan had stepped forward with declaration during Luthor's endless chastising, and he humanized the clone despite all of the science that would try to argue he was anything but deserving of that.

But then Donovan had hurt Robin. Kon thought about the click of the taser gun and how Tim’s body tensed with the sudden painful contractions of his leg that Kon remembered well from one of his own very first memories in the tank. The pain caused Tim’s balance to shatter and he fell on the floor, and Kon couldn’t pretend to forget the sound of his body dropping to the carpet or the yelp of pain that escaped him at the time. Kon had felt so alone in that moment, wondering what else he could have gotten wrong in his assumptions if Donovan was willing to actively hurt Robin in order to obtain the clone for Luthor.

And despite all of that, he had told Kal-El how to find the clone; he directed the alien to the basement dutifully and honorably, regardless what Luthor would do if he found out about Donovan’s betrayal. And it was considered a betrayal when someone helped Kon; it was a betrayal to Luthor. And now he didn’t know if this meant Lex was coming to Gotham for Bruce and Tim or if he was going to steal Kon away regardless of Kal’s promise. Though the Kryptonian was strong and formidable, Luthor still had access to the horrible green stone.

“I don’t know.” He settled on saying.

At their quick speed, only a few more minutes passed before Kal slowed down considerably. "Kon," he began in a gentle voice. "We have arrived. I-well, I really wanted to talk to you more before we did this. But I’m really not sure what the best order is here.” Kon still trusted Kal, but he asked with curiosity (rather than cautiously) what Kal was talking about. In light of his sadness over Donovan, Kon was still thrilled to finally be able to spend more time with the alien-even if it was on a farm. And if they had arrived at their destination already, it was finally time for him to see his new home. Kal clarified, “Well, it’s the family. Are you ready to meet everybody?” Kon gulped down at the house and barn so far away from them now. He wasn’t sure he was ready to meet everybody. He should have guessed immediately after waking up that Kal already had a family; he had been on this planet far longer than Kon after all and he had mentioned a few names before now. But now faced with meeting new people that could so easily be disappointed in him, his heart thumped loudly. Before he could answer, Kal huffed out a small laugh. “I sure hope you are because here’s our first contestant.” Kon frowned, looking down again and toward the direction Kal was watching with a smile, and he had to blink.

Because what he saw was a white animal sprinting through the air toward them. He squinted toward the moving mass as Kal asked him, “Did you like meeting Ace?” His voice was quicker this time, as the dog was steadily approaching now, picking up more speed and soaring up through the sky with more easy than Kon had during his first flight.

“Uhm...” Kon could hear the dog’s panting breath and his thumping heart, pumping adrenaline through his racing legs. He didn't understand how this dog was flying.

“Kon-El, this dog is friendly, I promise. But if you don’t want to meet him like this, if it makes you nervous or upset, I’ll stop him.”

Kon bit the inside of his cheek, unsure. This was a test to his trust in Kal, he knew. The alien would never send a rabid dog at him, nor would he allow one to attack Kon while he was flying right there next to him. And so he gave a quick nod and prepared himself, widening his stance in the sky and bringing his arms up in front of his face and chest.

And he closed his eyes right as the mass of the white dog slammed into his torso, shooting him several yards through the sky before he finally felt his body come to a stop. Sharp paws ran along the front of his shirt, following shortly by the feel of a wet tongue lapping at his cheek. Kal was laughing, and Kon felt it impossible not to join in as he cracked his eyelids open and found himself face to face with a large dog. The white face was smiling widely and the dog panted with excitement as he moved impossibly closer to Kon, stealing licks at his face and quick sniffs to his scalp.

“I’m so sorry about him, he is just excited,” Kal spoke between chuckles, and he tugged at the dog’s torso. Kon was surprised to find the dog did not budge. “This is Krypto.”

“The dog is called Krypto?” Kon asked, leveling the alien with a deadpan glare. “The theme isn’t very subtle. What, is your house called Kryptoland?”

“Hilarious, but no.” Kal whistled, a harsh and piercing sound loud enough to make Kon wince, and Krypto floated back and finally allowed the clone a couple inches to himself. But after Kon rapidly blinked thrice in surprise, the dog added another lick to his already wet cheek. He grimaced and wiped away at his face as Kal spoke. “Alright. Excellent start. Let’s go down to the house now.”

He guided Kon down to the earth, with Krypto clinging close to the clone's bare heels, and finally they landed standing in the cold, sticky grass. Kon savored the moment as his feet sunk into the ground because this was the very first time he felt grass under his own feet rather than some borrowed memory. The wet residue from a previous rain seeped into the hem of clothing around his ankles and he wiggled his toes to feel them bury deeper in the chilled mud. Kal placed a slow hand on Kon’s shoulder and promised, “I will get you some shoes, okay?”

But before the clone could respond, the sound of the front door closing dragged both set of eyes up to the house, where they found four people approaching: two elderly smiling faces, a younger woman, and a small child hugging at her leg.

“Okay,” Kal began with a shaky smile, and Kon realized the alien looked nervous, as though he were afraid that Kon wouldn’t like his family and not the other way around. The clone thought the latter was the more plausible response given his origin. But Kal's hand was still on his shoulder, and Kon used this touch to feel grounded while he was faced with the upcoming introductions. “Kon, these are my parents-my earth parents,” he clarified when Kon furrowed his eyebrows and opened his mouth to ask about Jor-El. The pair looked extremely welcoming as they stepped forward. “This is Jonathan and Martha Kent.”

Jonathan Kent was an elderly man who wore a plaid button up, jeans, and a wide smile. His greeting shone through his eyes as he looked at the clone, and Kon assumed this was the man who hurt his back and needed his family to move closer to help. He spoke in a calm, relaxing voice, "We are so glad to have you here." And Kon nodded in response.

Martha Kent appeared absolutely adoring of him already and she stepped nearer to him with her arms partially extended in an offer. Before he could understand what he was doing, Kon stepped toward her and she placed her hands on opposite sides of his face in a gentle hold, just like Kal had done before they left the manor. She was wearing a dark blue dress and her hair was pulled up to be kept out of her face. Her voice sounded like soft honey when she whispered with crinkled eyes, "Oh, just look at your sweet face." Kon blushed at the compliment. "You look just like Clark when he was your age," and she brushed a thumb across his cheek, reminding him of the parents who hugged him at the apartment fire when he reunited their children with them. "He had that same mischievous gleam in his eye that promised trouble. Little Jon here inherited that too. We will just have to keep an eye out on both of you," she added with a wink, and Kon bit back a grin.

"This is my wife, Lois," Kal continued when Martha's hands dropped from Kon's face, and the clone turned to face the young woman.

She had long brown hair and she wore jeans and a sweater. She stepped forward and said, "We are all so excited to meet you." And while she greeted him, she leveled him with a scrutinizing gaze and an interested smile as though she were trying to figure him out. Kon hoped she wasn't able to see the Lex part of his face, and he quickly looked away from her and back at Kal.

"And finally, this little barn swallow is my son, Jon."

Kon looked down at the little boy with big blue eyes and dark curly hair halfway hidden under a blue ball cap housing a large red H. He was very young and wore shorts and a t-shirt with a confusing logo that Kon did not understand. And Kon blinked. "You have a-?" he murmured to Kal in a voice impossibly quiet to avoid the ears of the two elders and Lois, but he cut himself off before he could say the word. Jon could hear his question and he braved a couple of steps until he stopped right beside his father.

“I have a son, yes,” Kal provided, wrapping an arm around the youngest’s shoulders.

A wave of complicated feelings slammed into Kon's chest with the force of a train, and the clone took an unconscious step back while his head spun. He suddenly felt like he was intruding on a family that was already established. This family didn't need a clone of Superman living under their roof and eating their food. They didn't need a clone of Clark Kent walking around looking like Martha's son. And they certainly didn't need someone who was created by Lex Luthor in their house. Kon's throat felt tight again, just like it had when he felt powerless and was lying under the covers at Bruce's house. But this time, he couldn't simply fall asleep until the horrible sense of dread passed him by. Now, he was forced to face the five before him even though he couldn't breath and his eyes felt like hazy glass covered with steam. He was afraid they all already knew that he would never be good enough to help people or save the world, they knew that he was a Luthor deep down and he didn't belong to a family with Martha who was so loving, or Kal who was Superman, or Jon who was already the son of-

Kon felt a hand on his forearm and a new wet coldness at his ankle, and his vision cleared from the haze. He found Kal-El watching him with a worried look and then the clone looked down to find Kryto with his tongue hanging out. Kon noticed his feet were no longer pressed against the cold earth as he had floated off the ground. To his absolute surprise, he found Kal's entire family was also watching him with a worried gaze, like they were concerned for him and not about him shooting his beams of fire through their chests.

A silent beat passed before someone spoke up in a loud voice. “You can fly just like Dad and Krypto?” Jon asked curiously, placing a small pointer finger to his own bottom lip as he studied Kon's stature off the ground. Kon nodded once, slowly and a wide grin spread across Jon’s face. “You are so cool! I can’t do that yet 'cause I'm just six, but Dad says I will learn to do that later.”

“Probably, babe. Emphasis on probably,” Lois reminded him with a sly smirk. “But we are all hoping we get a few more years before we need to deal with that... In the meantime, maybe you can ask Kon to show you the ropes on flight safety.” And Jon nodded quickly, looking back to Kon with wide eyes.

Kon exhaled the breath he had been holding, toes sinking back into the mud. He gulped harshly and drew his eyes up to Kal, who offered a small smile. "Why don't I show you the farm?" he suggested in a quiet voice, and Kon turned around with the aid of Kal's guidance while he clasped the paper tightly in his fist. The paper allowed him to think of Tim as Martha took the bag of clothes from Clark with an understanding smile.

“So, is that everybody?” Kon finally murmured once he heard all four heartbeats return to the house.

“Nearly,” Kal replied with an arm wrapped around Kon's shoulders. “I have one other person for you to meet, and she will be here next week.”

Kon rolled his eyes and muttered, “Great.” He wasn’t even sure why he was suddenly irritated. Kal’s family was already nice and they he didn’t mind the dog. Despite that, he felt haughty and his shoulders were tense and aching. His legs still felt shaky underneath him and so he rose from the earth again to float next to Kal. "This is a lot," he murmured honestly.

"I know. But you are doing such an amazing job. I am so proud of you." Kon didn't feel like any one should be proud of him. His mind swam with insecurities and dread over people that have only shown him kindness.

Kal led him into the barn where the annoying stench of farm animals and their feed filled his nostrils. Based on the state of the barn's floor, Kon was glad he was no longer walking. "Kon, I want you to feel comfortable so I am going to tell you a little bit about this place. I crashed onto this planet when I was just a baby-far, far younger than Jon is now. And I was lucky enough that Jonathan and Martha found me, my parents. They had no responsibility to me; I was a baby who needed so much from them. And they must have been terrified when I started showing powers, also something that arose at an age earlier than Jon is. And this was before humans knew about Krypton and before they knew that aliens could walk among them. But they loved me and they helped me learn to handle those powers and use them to help others. They shaped me into the hero I am today, and without them, I would be so lost without them. I couldn't do any of this. Lois, I was lucky enough to meet her when I left Smallville. We worked together at the city paper in Metropolis and she was the first person to which I revealed my secret identity. She is the love of my life, and then we had Jon. And he’s brilliant and wonderful, but also completely new to us. I have never known a half Kryptonian half human before, until him. And now until you. I think the two of you have a lot in common that you share, finding yourself with clashing identities. And I cannot fathom the pull that must have on you. But Kon-El, I am telling you this because I want you to know all of us. And I want you to know that you are surrounded by strong and loving people who all want you in their lives. They all would love to be your family, my parents and Lois, they want to care for you just as I do. And I know Jon hasn’t stopped talking about getting a big brother since I told them about you a few days ago. There is no pressure here, and we can always figure something else out if you so choose, but we all want to be your family, if you are okay with that.”

Kon ran this information through his fingers, feelings the thoughts placate his anxieties and settle his nerves. Obviously Jonathan and Martha were incredible people to take in and raise someone that turned out to be Superman. And of course Lois must be a wonderful person since Kal, Jonathan, and Martha all love her. Someone who came from Kal and Lois would also almost have to be perfect as well. Kon just didn't understand where exactly he fit into this already pieced together puzzle. He was part Superman, and that was noble and honorable, and respect would come so easy for someone of his heritage in this world that adored the hero. But there was a gnawing sensation that firmly reminded him with a slap that he was also part Luthor. And he couldn't believe that Kal's family would allow him to stay there after they discovered his true self.

But he also wondered, why would Kal even lie about this? He wouldn't have anything to gain by taking Kon in under false pretenses. Kal needed to take his own clone away from a madman like Luthor, but he could have simply eradicated the clone and moved on with his loving family. But Kal took him here to his home, and he introduced him to his parents, wife, and child. And they all acted like they wanted him here. The feeling he experienced when Martha held his face was different than the one he felt in the pizzeria. The customers had cheered for him and asked for pictures. They discounted his food and asked him to come back again. But Kal's family appeared to truly want him there. They wanted to know him personally and see that he was happy. Lois even insinuated a plan for Kon to hang out with Jon. And so these feelings of being wanted were different, and he realized quickly that he craved the familial one more.

Finally, and completely sure of his answer, he nodded.

A wide grin stretched across Kal's face and his eyes were flooded with relief. "I am so glad. Do you want to see your room?" Kon nodded quickly. As soon as they exited the dark ground of the barn, Kon's toes returned to the cool grass and they walked to the front porch of the house together. Kal's arm was still draped across Kon's shoulders, and the younger didn't see it fit to shake him off.

Kal reached the front door first, and he held it open for Kon who walked into the smell of a baking pastry similar to that of the one when Alfred baked. The house appeared much smaller on the outside in comparison to the penthouse and the manor, but he found the inside felt cozy. Framed pictures of smiling faces and embroidered cloth clung to each wall. Several plants were bursting with life from their pots by the doorways and on the counters, adding to the color shining across the room. He heard both Jonathan and Jon laughing in the living room, just beyond Kon's view. By the sound of it, they were playing a game with consoles that clicked near constant as the pair mashed the buttons with excitement. Martha and Lois were sitting in the dining room at the kitchen table, speaking to one another in softer voices. When their eyes rested on the pair that just entered, they both smiled.

"Clark," Martha spoke in a singing voice, "Your boy needs shoes."

"I know, Ma."

Kon knew the bottoms of his feet were dirty from his travels across several destinations, such as the pizzeria and just outside of this house. And so after he glanced down at the browned undersides of his feet, he lifted up from the floor until they no longer left tracks of dirt across the clean surface. Kal assured the clone that he was not required to float around the house, but out of courtesy, his toes didn't touch back down. Kal led him upstairs and to a door toward the end of the hall, passing more pictures on the wall and a small hallway table housing a corded telephone. The door screeched on the hinges and the wood floors creaked softly under Kal's weight when he pushed the bedroom door open. Kon peeked in. The walls were bare, just like he had expected them to be, but the bed residing in the corner of the room was made and loaded with blankets and pillows. Kal led him to the dresser standing under the window.

"This room is all yours, and you can have it however you want. You can move the bed and the dresser. After we get your some more stuff-like a desk and lamp and whatever else you want-you can move those too. Arrange it all however you'd like." Kon did like the idea of that. He listened to Kal even as he placed his hand on the mattress, pushing down and listening to the springs. "In case you want to change out of those clothes, we have some of my old stuff in the dressers here. As soon as we think it is a little safer, we will go out to the store and look for stuff that you like. We want you to be comfortable here, but your safety will always come first. Does that sound okay?"

Kon glanced at the red flannel sleeve poking up at the top of the bottom left drawer and he had to smile. He loved his own suit proudly revealing his relation to the House of El, but that sleeve looked comfortable too. He thanked Kal aloud and silently promised himself that the flannel was the first thing he would change into the moment he was sitting alone.

"I want you to decorate this room exactly how you want to as well. I know you had mentioned Tim coming," Kal said slowly, and Kon perked up. "Maybe we can get him over here this weekend and make a day of it. I'll talk to Bruce. Now let me show you the rest of the house here..."

Kon followed Kal throughout the second floor, being shown the alien's own bedroom with Lois, Jon's room, and his parent's room. Then he showed him the two bathrooms on the second floor-though one was only accessible through his parent's room. As he was closing the door to the main upstairs bathroom, Kal took a deep breath, a sign allowing Kon the slight advantage in knowing Kal was about to talk about something serious. "This reminds me," the alien murmured right on schedule. "I spoke to Bruce and he mentioned you have been taking a lot of showers."

Kon blinked. He expected to possibly be in trouble for something-maybe a real lecture this time about flying late at night with Tim. But he did not expect this. "I like the hot water. Is that a bad thing?"

"No, of course not," Kal stated quickly, but Kon leveled him with an unimpressed look. "Well, it may be bad for your skin. And it might turn out to be a little expensive here. But I understand it probably feels good, right? Especially after being in that thick gel with Luthor?" Kon gulped. He hadn't really considered the two could be related until now. Sure, when he first showered, he was thrilled to rid himself of that disgusting, cold solution. But he quickly found taking hot showers made him feel better a lot of the time. He hadn't counted how many he took at Bruce's manor or in the penthouse, but he figured it would have been considered excessive if Bruce felt the need to tell Kal-El about it. Kal allowed him a moment to stew in his spinning mind before he continued. "How about we try something else. Let's see if we can limit your showers to just one every day, unless something happens and you happen to really need another one-believe it or not but that is likely on a farm. And if you find yourself feeling too anxious or too uncomfortable in your own body in between, we can try moving instead. You let me know, no matter what I am doing, and we can go outside for a walk or a run. We can go flying. How does that sound?"

Kon felt his cheeks were warm now. He didn't mean to cost anyone by taking expensive showers or to attract unnecessary attention with this habit. But he nodded and even allowed himself to feel excited over the possibility of flying more with Superman. Kal looked at the clone with pride, and he led him back through the hallway. Krypto appeared suddenly at Kon's heels as they descended the stairs to tour the main floor of the house. He was shown the living room (where Jonathan and Jon were playing video games on a console), the kitchen (where a pie was baking in the oven), the dining room (where Martha and Lois greeted them with another warm smile). And just as Kal opened his mouth to continue the tour, he paused and tilted his head to the side, listening.

Before the alien could zip away and answer whatever call was summoning him, Kon quickly asked, "Wait, Kal. Can I shower once now?" For emphasis, he lifted one leg up higher and pointed at his own foot.

Superman smiled and replied, "Of course." And then he was gone.

As Kon was left flaoting alone in the hallway, Lois approached him slowly. She offered him a hand, which he took, and she whispered, "You know, he does that a lot even when he doesn't have to. He tries to helps people so much; it would be impossible for him not to."

"I understand. He helped me," Kon whispered back and nodded. "He definitely didn't have to do that."

"You are someone he did have to help. We always help our family. Always." Kon's cheeks were tinted pink at the implication that he was her family and she brought him back to the base of the stairs. "Clark already showed you your room, right? You are welcome to get settled in and look around. The clothes you brought are in the washer," Kon could hear the small sound of the washer spinning his close. "But if you want something more comfortable, there are plenty of things upstairs for you. You can take a shower, or play games with the boy, or be with us. We can go outside for a walk if you want, I don't know if Clark showed you the animals already. We have a few pairs of his old boots down here by the back door, and I am sure something will fit."

Kal hadn't shown him the animals yet, but Kon decided he wanted to shower before anything else. He was still trying to avoid tracking dirt into the house and it was becoming somewhat of a burden. He thanked Lois, promised a swift return after a shower, and ascended the stairs once more. He quickly found that this shower was a bit different than that at either of Bruce's places. It was covered by a shower curtain, which he left halfway open to avoid the sickening feeling of being trapped, and the water pressure was far lower. After only a few minutes of standing under the spray, the water became chilled, so he quickly scrubbed shampoo through his hair and scrubbed at his body with the soap-both of which smelled like strawberries. Kon paid extra attention to cleaning the bottoms of his feet.

To his complete dismay, when he exited the shower and grabbed a towel, he found they all felt too stiff, similar to the one Luthor demanded someone drape over him in the lab, and he dropped the fabric with a hiss. The mirror was only slightly fogged now because the cooled water allowed the condensation to drip down the surface, but he avoided looking into it because he knew what he would see. He knew he looked miserable now just as he had after his first shower at the manor. He sat down on the bathmat, which was already soaked from showering with the curtain open, and he hugged his knees to his chest. Kon took in a shuttering breath, one that rattled in his throat with the threat of crying, and he exhaled in the same shaking fashion. Now that his attention had been brought to it, Kon realized that showering allowed him the opportunity to feel like he actually had control and ownership of his own body, a sensation that was fleeting in moments where his anxiety over his very recent past boiled over the metaphorical pot. And if Kal asked him to try something else to ground himself, he didn't mind to walk or fly, as long as it could work. Another few minutes passed by before a knock on the bathroom door startled him.

"Kon?" Kal asked softly, already having returned from whatever rescue mission to which the alien answered. "Are you okay?"

Kon thought about himself. He was okay, of course. He was no longer trapped in Luthor's clutches and he was finally in a home with Kal-El. And in addition to that, he had even more family in his life now, which was something he hadn't even wished for because he didn't think it could be plausible. He provided Kal with a quick confirmation that he was fine, though even he heard the awkward crack in his own voice, and he reached out for the scratchy towel again. It felt better now than he remembered the towel did in the laboratory. It wasn't really fluffy like Bruce's, but it was fine. And he only needed it to dry off. He ran the material along his arms and legs, and then stood up on wobbly legs. He tied the towel around his waist and listened to the hallway to find that Kal had gone back downstairs. He found everyone's heart beats a floor below him and he opened the bathroom door to float silently down the hall to his room.

Once in his own bedroom, he dug through the dresser drawers and spread some of his options across the floor before he decided on a black t-shirt, jeans, and the red flannel. All of the clothes were somewhat baggy on him, obviously previously owned by someone a bit larger than the clone was now, but the flannel felt good and he hugged it across his chest. After he changed, Kon took a moment to sit on his bed. As he had discovered earlier, the springs were louder than any he had heard at Bruce's, but the blankets helped muffle the irritating noise. And alone in his quiet room, he closed his eyes and reached out with his tactile telekinesis. He wanted to feel the entire room that now belonged to him. He was finally in his room, and he breathed deeply while the warmth in his chest burst out, tingling in his fingers and toes. The feel of his blanket was followed shortly after by the rattling of his dresser, but it was soft enough for him to ignore it in favor of reaching out further. It wasn't until he heard a picture frame fall from the hallway wall and shatter that he stopped short.

Kon jumped from his bed and zipped to the door, throwing it open and immediately shrinking back as he found Kal-El was already there, picking up the picture frame and pieces of glass.

"That was an accident," Kon informed him quickly as his heart beat hammered along to a rapid tempo in his chest. "And my shower was only a few minutes long."

"I know," Kal offered a smile. "But this may be a good time to go over a few rules for the house." Kon crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame, torn between feeling defensive, embarrassed, and relieved. Because just like Tim said about Bruce, Kal wasn't mad. Kal stood up straight with the broken frame and shards of glass, and he ticked his head to the stairs for Kon to follow him. "We can go tot he Fortress of Solitude whenever you would like to practice powers-and that includes everything. Your strength, laser vision, and the thing that caused this," he held up the mess for emphasis. "I can show you how to get there and back from this house so you can even go while I am working. But until we have a better handle on things, we cannot practice our powers in the house. That goes for both of us, and Jon as well."

"You already know how to use yours though," Kon chided with a smirk. He thought it was funny that Kal spoke in a way that included himself as though he was also the one needing to practice. It was also sort of nice. "And I thought Jon didn't have any powers?"

"Between the two of us," Kal whispered under his breath for only Kon to hear, "that child can jump higher and further than any other human kid. It will be any day now that we will need to speak to him about that." And in a louder voice, he added, "And I can always use practice. So next time you want to redecorate the house, how about you tell us and we can do it a better way-with our hands?"

Kon opened his mouth to argue that it really was an accident, but he found that Kal was smirking. And once again, he found himself thankful that he had a funny guardian. Luthor would never joke like this. "Deal."

“Excellent." They reached the first floor and Kon followed Kal into the kitchen where he poured the shards into the trash bag and slowly removed the picture from the frame. Kon stood on his tiptoes to find that the picture was faded and yellow around the edges. Two young people smiled together with their arms wrapped around the other. And in their faces, Kon could see Martha's eyes and Jonathan's smile. Kal saw Kon's interest and provided what he had guessed, "These are my parents when they were very young. We will find another frame for it." And he placed the picture on the counter for safe keeping, after which he tied the trash bag, pulled it from the can, and led Kon outside. "Now, there is a lot of responsibility for people living on a farm, and we all help out here."

“Why?”

“Because my parents need our help. And we help because good people always get involved. Kon-El, that goes for everything in this life. Good people always help those who need it. When we see something that we know is wrong, we help.” He stopped in his trek and tucked a finger the clone’s chin, tilting his head up to meet Kal’s eyes with gentleness. “Helping those who need us will always be the right thing to do, and we do this because we are good. And you are good. Do you understand our responsibility to help others in need?”

Kon nodded, because he did understand this responsibility. Luthor had insinuated quickly that Kon was supposed to act as Superman, and then the man had practically introduced him as such to Robin, claiming the clone was the future’s Superman. He had felt immense pressure from that, having just woken up in this body and sorting through the frustrations of being held captive by Luthor, but also being promised this future in which he had no control over. Like Cadmus, Lex had told him, Kon was made to save people nobly, even if he wasn't going to have access to his own mind. But he didn't want to base his own identity based on what Luthor said. Bruce called him a kidnap victim, and in moments when he was alone and trapped in his own thoughts, he felt the full weight of this. What Kal was offering though-he felt he could manage. He helped the alien at the apartment building fire and he wanted to help more.

Kal smiled with pride, and he tossed the garbage bag into the large can resting on the driveway before the pair returned inside.

That evening was uneventful after Kal was called away for Justice League business. Just before Kal departed, Kon jumped up from his place on the couch with a destination of changing his bedroom in mind, but before he could reach the top of the stairs, Kal delivered the unfortunate news that Kon was going to be staying there at the Smallville farm instead of accompanying him to the Watchtower.

"Are you sure?" he asked with disappointment. "I can help."

But Kal was sure. He bid his family goodnight, and he zipped away from the house. Kon stalked up the stairs in dramatic defeat and decided it was time for a boost in elation. He snatched the corded phone from its place on the small hallway table and he pulled it into his bedroom, closing his door and allowing the cord to run from the hall outlet, under the door, and to his seat on the floor. And he dialed the number scribbled onto the piece of paper that resided now on his dresser.

"Hello?" The answer came immediately and Kon had to smile at the sound of Tim's voice. They talked for a full hour, mostly about what the Smallville farm was like and what Tim's day at school had been like. Kon told him about his new family and Tim listened with excitement, interjecting that they sounded great. But too soon, Tim's parents were calling him for dinner, and Tim had to hang up with the promise of talking again later.

That night, Kon found he couldn't sleep. The house was big and his room was bare and he wasn't tired yet. He slipped out of bed and paused to listen. He found three heartbeats upstairs and one downstairs. He wanted to go with Kal on his trip because he knew he could have helped-just as he helped the evening of the apartment fire. But now, he was stuck home and feeling restless. He opened his door and floated throughout the hallway and then down the stairs before stopping and examining the framed pictures on the wall with a criticizing gaze. They were similar in position and meaning as the ones he found at the Wayne manor, and he couldn't help but look at Jon's face in particular. There was a picture where he was playing with Kal, at a much younger age than he had now. Another one showed him sitting between his parents, Lois kissing his head and Kal laughing. And another where Jon was sitting on Jonathan's shoulders with hands wrapped around his head.

Kon could feel someone sitting in the dining room behind him, sitting over a cup of warm tea that he could smell in the air. Her heartbeat was quiet and much slower than his, and he wondered if he was supposed to be awake at such a late hour.

"What are you doing up?" Martha asked in a soft, encouraging voice.

Kon turned to face her. "Nothing," he replied haughty, feeling defensive for no known reason.

But the woman nodded and looked down at her mug. "I have trouble sleeping some nights too. My joints ache, you know? They say getting old is painful but you never really believe just how painful it is until you get there."

Kon watched her. "You're not old."

She smiled fondly. "You are my new favorite," she whispered with a wink, and Kon smirked. "Come on over and sit with me. No need for both of us to wait up alone so late." He agreed and sat down across from her while she stood up and prepared him a cup of tea. This one smelled and tasted different compared to the one Alfred had made for him. This one sent bursts of orange and clove across his tongue and his eyes and nose scrunched at the initial surprise.

"Are you worried about Clark being away so late?" Martha asked, running a hand through his hair before returning to her own seat. He just shrugged, and she continued. "I used to get so sick when he would leave, especially in the dark. I know the time of day or night doesn't really matter, but it always feels worse when he is called away at night." Kon nodded slowly and took another sip of the warm tea. "It must be really hard for you, jumping into a family at this stage and at your age."

"I looked at those pictures on the walls and... and I will never have that." His voice wavered and Martha extended her open palm across the table, welcoming Kon to hold her hand while he spoke. He inched his own fingers toward hers but stopped again, and Martha gently placed her hand over his, cupping his with softness that made his throat itch. She stayed silent and waited for him to clarify. "I will never have a childhood like Jon is having. I have these stupid memories that don't even belong to me about the facts of growing up. But I will never have that for myself."

Martha hummed softly and then spoke in a firm but comforting voice. "Baby, though it's true that you will never look like Jon does at his young age, a foot shorter and with baby teeth, you are not expected to live as an adult or be forced to be on your own. What you see on those walls doesn't have anything to do with the age of that little boy playing with action figures or Play-Doh." Kon wasn't sure what Play-Doh was but he decided to keep silent and let that slide. "Those walls show family. And you do have that here."

"Even if I'm-?" part Lex, he wanted to say but his tongue felt sticky and his throat was tight. He couldn't imagine Kal left that important piece of information out when he told his family about his living clone coming to stay with them. Of course they would have to ask who made him... and they may have even asked who else he was made from. But that didn't mean it made it any easier to admit out loud, especially to this woman who was being so kind. But he choked on his words and didn't offer to continue yet, so she gave his hand and small squeeze.

"Even if what, love?"

He gulped harshly through his stinging throat. He didn't want to say the words out loud. But Martha was sitting across from him now and watching intently. "Even if I have... someone bad in me too?" Martha continued to wait, and Kon finally groaned before admitting, "I have Lex Luthor's DNA in me. Do you know who that man is?" And Martha nodded. "I worry that because I have him in me, I will be just as bad as he is. I share the same amount of DNA with him that I do with Kal, and look at all of the similarities I have with Superman. I look like him and I have Kryptonian powers. So I must have so much in common with Luthor. I am worried he will come after me and everyone that has helped me. And now that I live here, there are so many people here that could be hurt by him and his soldiers. I don't want to see people get hurt for me again." The sight of Tim falling to the ground with a taser hitched in his thigh filled his mind. "I am afraid of being in the way here just because Kal felt too much pity to actually put me down."

When Martha felt his pause became great enough to insinuate he was finished speaking, she looked deep into his eyes and told him, "You are never in the way here. This is your home and we are your family. We want you to be here with us, and no space you take up will ever be too much. Clark did not bring you here because he took pity on you; he brought you here because you are a child in need, and you are part of his family-of our family. I haven't known Lex Luthor for much of his life, but I have known my son for nearly all of his. And what I see when I look at you, besides Clark's appearance and gifts, is your own goodness. Luthor has made a lot of terrible decisions to gain what he has now, but that man's DNA has nothing to do with how you act or how you leave your impact on this earth. Only you can decide that. You are free from that man, and so you can write your own story now. And as for his possible return-Lex has proved himself to be irritating in the past, but he is nothing we haven't been forced to deal with before. And so if he tries to come for you, we will protect you. Jonathan and I, and Lois and Clark. We will protect you, because you are our family."

It took all of Kon's concentration to keep the barrier of his misty eyes closed and avoid crying in front of someone he had just met. But he did stand up from his seat and approach her for a hug. He relished in her warm hands around him and the feeling of her cheek on the top of his head. They finished their tea together before he decided to lay down on the couch that night, waiting for Kal to return. He didn't realize his eyes drifted closed for slumber until he felt warm fingertips brushing against his cheek, pulling him back to consciousness. He cracked an eyelid open to find Kal grinning at him as the moonlight streamed in through the window.

The following day proved even easier. Kon followed Kal around the farm in the morning and they performed the daily chores together while Kon was taught how to take care of the animals. He found lifting the large hay bales was fun because Jon always got so excited to see how much Kon could lift despite his thinner stature compared to Kal. With a smirk, Kon took a moment to balance one hay bale on his pointer finger and presented it, resulting in the wild applause he earned from his audience. He liked the sound of the animal feed when it was poured in large quantity into the buckets and he liked watching the chicken flap their wings. But he hated carrying large pails of water because it always splashed over the bucket and seeped into his shirt.

Kon was beyond relieved when Kal informed him, "Krypto likes to water the plants so we allow him that courtesy to save Ma the trouble." Kon found the image of the dog carrying a watering can hilarious.

As promised, Kal did have a large box filled with space rocks, and Kon picked out one to bring to his own bedroom. By midday, Kon was sitting inside the living room and flipping through the TV channels in hopes of finding his new favorite show, Wendy the Werewolf Stalker, when Jonathan called him outside. Kon was surprised to find the older man grinning widely and offering him a large brown glove.

"You ever play catch before?" The man asked him, and Kon shook his head. He had the donated memories serving him at that moment to show him the game the old man meant. But in his own body, he had never done this before. And though it brought a shit-eating smirk to his own lips, he couldn't imagine Alfred or Bruce playing catch with him. Much less, Lex. "It is never too late to start, kiddo." And as Kon was pulling the stiff glove over his hand, Jonathan slipped a ball cap over Kon's head, facing backwards as the brim rested behind his neck. Kon looked at him in initial surprise, but when he found that the man was also wearing a backwards baseball cap, he smiled shyly and tightened the glove around his wrist. When he was ready, Jonathan led him away from the house and then instructed Kon stand still while he moved a few meters back. Jonathan faced him and gently tossed the baseball. Kon caught it in his bare hand without difficulty, but Jonathan explained that they use the gloves to protect their hands and wrists.

And Kon caught the next one in the glove, resulting in high praise from the old man that the clone loved to hear.

They tossed the ball back and forth several times while they talked about the farm and each other. Kon learned that Jonathan had been a farmer for nearly all of his adult life after inheriting it from his own parents. Jonathan loved all of the animals on the farm (save a particularly hateful rooster named Benji; he always made Clark collect the chicken eggs and feed the birds so Jonathan never had to see that rooster), but he loves the speckled horse named Jane the most because he helped that one's mother give birth to her. Jonathan met Martha when they were young and in school together, and they had fallen in love quickly. Jonathan learned that though Kon liked to eat peanut butter with Nutella, food still made him a little nervous because of his very first experience with it. Kon enjoyed listening to music and his favorite TV show was about werewolves. Kon liked the feeling of the flannel sleeves against his arms, but he loved his leather jacket the most.

And because Kon appreciated that the old man never pressed him for any information or even to discuss his feelings, Kon even told him about how he was a clone of Superman. Jonathan didn't appear surprised at the news, clearly already knowing it, but he did listen intently as Kon told him about how scary it was to wake up for the first few times when he had difficulty seeing. Kon told him about Donovan and about the first time he flew. Before he could stop himself, he even told Jonathan about the horrible green stone that Luthor forced around his neck. The man grimaced appropriately during his story, but Kon never felt uncomfortable in receiving his reactions, and so he decided he liked playing catch and talking to this man. And he told Jonathan such.

"I like it too. Now Jon was telling me about how strong you are, what else can you do?" He asked with an easy smile.

Kon lit up and began to rattle off all of the Kryptonian powers he had accomplished since discovering his own self. He told Jonathan about his blanket telekinesis, and how he accidentally broke a picture upstairs because of it. And just as he began to explain how he discovered his super breath, his excitement was accompanied by a burst of warmth in his chest and his next toss resulted in him launching the baseball across the field, clearing Jonathan by a full three feet and traveling at an impressive speed until it shot a hole through the barn wall.

Kon and Jonathan watched the trajectory with mouths held agape, and then at the sound of wood being splintered and shattered, they looked at each other with similar dog-house expressions. Jonathan tiptoed over to Kon and held a finger up to his own mouth to signal the clone to remain quiet. "We were never here," he whispered with a wink and the pair crept away while Kon giggled into his hand.

Kon was back in the house for a few hours before he found himself sitting with Jon alone on the living room floor. Jon was looking closely at his face, and Kon knew he was looking at the pieces of Clark, searching for his own father's eyes and nose. Even his curled hair. Kon allowed him the moment while he studied the younger's face in return, where he found both Kal and Lois. He had Lois's nose and smile, Kon noticed as the little one was grinning widely. Jon reached up with a wary hand and ran his fingers along Kon's cheek.

"Yeah, kid. I look like your dad, I know."

And before Kon could react, Jon reached far back and launched his hand forward until he smacked the clone's face, hard. Kon felt his skin redden immediately as the child obviously had elevated strength for his age. And to his amazement and fury, Jon had the audacity to whisper, “Gotcha.”

“Oww, Jon!” Kon growled loudly, eyes suddenly glowing red with threatening heat. The room became the color of rust and the face before him was tinted bright red. He wasn’t trying to shoot lasers at Jon, and he managed to keep that fire sitting just behind his eyeballs without difficulty, but the kid was still grinning.

And Jon clearly wasn't falling for his tricks. “That did not hurt you. You have strong skin just like Dad, right?” Wrong, Kon almost hissed but he remained silent. The kid was right enough, it had hurt, sure, but he was fine. “And you can’t tell Mom or Dad, because I gotcha.”

At that moment, Kon understood what it meant to have a little brother. And now that he understood these so-called rules to gotcha, he figured he might as well play too. In the blink of an eye, Kon zipped into the kitchen and stopped standing next to Martha, who gasped and startled, placing a hand on her chest and reminding him that they don’t use super speed in the house because she "couldn't keep up." Kon flashed her the most innocent, round eyes he could manage while he claimed thirst. He acquired a cup of ice water at a more respectable pace, and then shot back to the living room before the woman could get wise on his plan.

He appeared on his haunches behind Jon while the child was still looking in awe at the door frame heading to the kitchen, and he took this opportunity to pour the ice water down the back of Jon's shirt. He whispered in Jon's ear, "Gotcha," to the chorus of the kid screeching. The sound attracted attention and Lois asked what was going on from the other room. But Jon sat on the carpeted floor wearing pouted lips and clenching his teeth at the feeling of his drenched shirt pressing against his back, and he called back to answer that nothing what wrong.

Kon thought having a younger brother may be interesting enough.

That evening, his second in the house, a knock on Kon's door startled the clone from his state of nearly falling asleep. He slipped out of bed and opened the door, looking down to find Jon, who was grinning up wildly at him. The kid was holding a stuffed teddy bear and dragging a blue blanket along the floor behind him, and Kon provided him with an incredibly unimpressed frown.

“Can I sleep in here?” Jon asked in a volume equivalent to that of a stage whisper. Kon rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Please? I have candy,” Jon emphasized and held out his palm, showing three Hershey kisses.

Kon huffed out a breath to blow at a stubborn strand of hair running down in front of his forehead. “Fine,” he murmured before leading Jon into the room and to his bed. They both crawled between the covers and Kon snatched a piece of chocolate, unwrapped it, and popped it into his mouth while asking, “Where did you get candy?”

“From pawpaw.”

“Who the hell is that?”

“That's a bad word. And he is my grandpa.”

“Jonathan?”

“Yeah?” Jon asked, and Kon rolled his eyes at the brat's antics. “You said my name, Kon, what do you want?” But the clone dropped the conversation and settled into the covers while the younger snickered and ate a piece of chocolate himself. Both boys fell asleep within the next few minutes and the soft sound of breathing filled the room.

The following day started early as Kon woke up to find Jon's arm thrown across his face. He slid out of bed carefully to avoid waking the younger, and he silently left his room, keeping elevated to avoid the creaking floorboards. Kon found Lois downstairs at the kitchen table working over an iPad and a cup of coffee. The bitter aroma filled the room splashed with a hint of almond, and the clone found he liked the smell. Lois smiled when she saw him and invited him to sit next to her.

"I heard Jon come to you last night. He is fine to sleep on his own, he just thinks you are fun. Don't be afraid to tell him no, he won't be mad at you or anything," Lois informed him, but her eyes were endearing as she took in the sight of the clone in his pajamas and ruffled hair. When Kon asked what she was doing, she answered, "I am working on an article. A ton of information was leaked last weekend about a few Metropolis mayors relations with drug cartels across the globe. I finally got a few interviews yesterday, so I am piecing it all together now."

"Why are you are writing it down?"

"Because people deserve to know the truth." Lois tilted the iPad to face the clone and she pointed out the half-finished columns. He was appreciative now for those donated memories that allowed him the ability to read, and he scanned over the words. "See these quotes here? These people are risking their reputations, and sometimes even their lives, by sharing their knowledge with the world. I cannot stop a train collision or catch a crumbling building like Clark can, but what I can do is make sure these people's voices are heard. Their story matters, and I act as their megaphone."

"That is very noble." Noble like Lex had said Cadmus was noble and fighting for the greater good. Kon found it interesting that he was living in a house now surrounded by all sorts of heroes. She poured him a small cup of coffee and he added a lot of almond creamer, but when he tried the drink he grimaced and pushed it back away from him while Lois chuckled.

The week carried on as such. The days were comfortable as he became closer to each of the house's residents, though due to his safety, his walls were still bare and his dresser remained full of borrowed clothing. But it hardly mattered because the more he talked to his family, the less he found himself sitting in his room alone to even notice. His El suit was washed with the rest of his clothes, and he kept those next to his bed. He wore his suit when he felt the itching of discomfort and Kal was available to fly with him. They shot off from the farm grounds with Krypto and circled the globe until the clone felt exhausted and relieved. Kon and Tim called one another in the evenings, after Tim informed him of his school hours, and each time they talked about their day and lives before someone was summoned for dinner.

Friday evening, while Kon was speaking to Tim again on the phone, Tim excitedly informed him that he and Bruce were going to visit Smallville the following day, and he would get to spend the day on the farm while Bruce and Clark traveled to the Watchtower. This excited Kon and he paced around impatientally throughout the rest of the evening, watching as the ticking clock seemed to move slower with each passing second until it was time to rest. When the next morning finally rolled around with the rising of the sun, Kon jumped out of bed with eagerness. He wanted to finish his chores as quickly as possible and he threw on jeans, a white tank top, and a blue flannel before racing downstairs for his boots. As always, someone stopped him for breakfast and he sat at the table next to Jonathan while they both ate pancakes.

Kon lifted a hay bale high above his head just an hour later, which elicited a giddy snicker from Jon, and he brought it to the horse's stall. It didn't take long before the tedious work forced him to remove his flannel and tie the sleeves around his waist. He then grabbed the shovel from Jon, who had just been playing with it prior, and he began to scoop out the same stall with a sad sigh. He didn't always enjoy performing these chores, especially now that he knew he was waiting for something else to happen instead. Sometimes he found it possible to wrangle Jon into helping him. But today, as though the kid wanted to sabotage the clone's life, he was not offering any assistance.

Just as Jon was telling him about something ridiculous his friends at school said, Kon's eyes widened at the sound of a familiar voice travel from the house's front door. "Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Kent. How are you?"

"Hello, Tim, come on in," Martha answered and Kon's grin grew. "Kon is outside by the barn, you can go on out there."

And Bruce's voice arose next, calling out, "Be careful-" just as the back door swung closed. Tim's footsteps were bringing him to the barn as Kon heard Kal murmuring to Bruce from inside the house.

"I'm surprised you decided to bring him. Do his parents know he is out of the state?"

To which Bruce responded, "No. But he's been pestering me nonstop ever since the two of you left. He picked up that annoying habit from Dick."

"Oh come on, Bruce. I've seen you in a Justice League meeting, and you-"

"Hey, Kon!" A cheerful voice greeted and Kon snapped back to himself to see Tim walking into the barn, grinning widely. He wore a plain t-shirt and jeans with a backpack strapped securely to his shoulders.

The clone offered a wave and greeting in return as Tim approached. Kon maneuvered the shovel to lay across his shoulders and behind his head so he could hook his wrists at the rough wood handle and allow his arms to dangle lazily. Tim took in the barn with an interested eye, scanning his gaze across the interior and looking at the empty stalls. Jon kept talking to both of them now about how much work he does on the farm, which made Kon scoff. And then Tim's eyes landed on Kon.

And Tim’s smile fell. 

Kon watched with confusion and concern as Tim seemed to clam up right in front of him, the younger’s smile long since faded from his eyes and pink tinted his cheeks and ears. He wasn’t looking into Kon’s eyes anymore, his gaze was averted down near his shoulder, and Kon shifted on his feet. Luthor had told him that he had a tendancy to use humor when he felt scared about something, but he pushed that memory away and did this anyway. “I know you haven’t seen me actually perform a hard-days work yet, let alone on a farm, but I didn’t think it was that shocking.”

But Tim didn’t even crack a smile at that, just continued to watch him with a frown as his eyes finally met Kon's. Kon was afraid he did something wrong and he fidgeted anxiously as he asked softly, “is everything okay?” His thoughts raced as he thought about everything in the barn that could have caused the sudden decline in cheer. All of the animal were outside and likely didn't have the opportunity to frighten him. Jon didn't say anything inappropriate to lead to this reaction. But then Kon remembered the tip of the shovel probably looked disgusting after he had used it, and so he carefully lowered that back down, holding the handle now and allowing the scoop to touch the ground.

Tim swallowed hard and nodded in response to his question, but his expression continued to mirror someone who had just been delivered detrimental news of a loved one’s passing, and Kon didn’t understand why. The clone felt a rough pang of grief in his chest followed by disappointment because this was supposed to be a fun day for both of them. He feared he had somehow managed to ruin it, despite having no idea how.

“I’m almost done in here. I could show you around the farm if you want?” He considered this and then shook his head. “But honestly, it’s just a bunch of grass and cows. We can watch a movie?” Tim just shrugged half-heartedly, and Kon was desperate. “We can go flying again.”

“I want to fly!” Jon yelped.

Tim cracked a hesitant smile and mumbled sarcastically, “Sure, so then we can get in trouble with both Bruce and Clark. That sounds like a trip.”

Kon could breathe again, and he smirked back. “Well then get comfortable. Because I gotta finish up in here and then I’ll show you the barest bedroom you’ve ever seen in your life.”

Tim snickered, shoulders relaxing as he took a seat on the stall fence next to Jon. The younger begged Tim to allow him to play with them when they went back inside, and Tim just laughed. He had told Kon earlier that week on the phone that he didn't have any siblings, younger or older, so having Jon around the house must have been interesting. Kon confirmed at the time that it most certainly was interesting.

Kon interrupted Jon's pleading and sang out, “You know, this would go by so much faster with two. Or even three. You both could help me.”

“And deplete you of the chance to experience first hand the farm-life? I could never,” Tim laughed, pointedly making no move to get up from his spot.

"Never!" Jon parroted with a grin.

“How considerate," Kon murmured with an eyeroll and a small smile of his own as he finished scooping out the final stall. After he completed his tasks that only took another couple minutes, during which Jon didn't stop talking to the two of them, he wiped his hands on a rag hanging next to Jon, and then faced Tim. “Race you,” he challenged with a wink and took off flying to the chorus of Tim shouting behind him that it wasn’t fair while Jon laughed.

But it was fair, because Kon needed to clean his room. He tilted upward and landed right in his bedroom window, successfully tracking in footsteps of mud across the floor. “Shit,” he mumbled as he looked down at the mess. He stepped out of his boots and flew across his room, picking up clothes and shoving them in his dresser drawers as he heard Tim reach the front door downstairs with a dramatic huff. Clark greeted him and Martha commented on his sweet face before offering him a snack. But as Tim hit the stairs and ascended, Kon slipped into the bathroom and ended up with a mouthful of toothpaste before he snatched the brush. He ran the toothbrush along his teeth and dragged a stick of someone’s deodorant across his underarms-he guessed it belonged to Lois because the older Kents had their own bathroom, Jon was too young to need it, and Kal didn't need deodorant at all. By the time Kon spit out the excess paste, Tim was only halfway up the stairs, now answering Clark’s questions about school and his parents with taut but polite answers. 

Kon ran a hand through his hair and then moved back to his room to perform one final sweep and push the remaining articles of clothing under his bed. Tim reached the top step at that moment and called out for Kon right as the clone sat down on his bed with feigned rest. He answered and Tim pushed his door open, scowling innocuously at the clone.

"What?" Kon snickered. "You don't like losing?"

"We will have a rematch," Tim promised and took in the bare walls and clean floors, save the mud spots and the boots by the window. He walked around the room, running his hand along the dresser and the wall until he reached the bed, where he sat down next to Kon with a grin. "This is nice!"

“You said you’d help me find stuff for my room, right? The walls look... sad,” Kon knew that was a silly adjective to use because inanimate objects are unable to look like a feeling. Yet, when he looked at the bare walls, he couldn't deny the sense of melancholy that washed over him. Though he had no personal proof yet, he believed a wall full of posters and a full bookshelf could help.

"Absolutely. I actually have a few things for you. First..." and Tim slid the straps of his backpack off of his shoulders before resting it on his lap and unzipping the largest pocket. He pulled out two framed pictures and handed the first to Kon. He was surprised to accept the gift and found it to be a picture of himself. Kon recognized it to be taken by Tim at the penthouse after his shower when he was smiling and clothed. And he remembered his excitement over seeing himself with blue eyes instead of the red ones from the picture circling social media. This was the first picture that Kon truly felt allowed him to see what he actually looked like-and he looked like Clark in the pictures scattered around this house. His cheeks darkened.

Next, Tim handed him the second framed picture and Kon found it to be the one of the bridge lined with twinkling lights, and there were no cars ruining the photo. This was included in the array of pictures Tim had shown him when they laid together in the penthouse bed, and Tim had described where and how each picture was taken place in Gotham. And Kon had said this one was his favorite.

"You said you liked it," Tim stammered with a lopsided grin. "So I printed it out for you in case you want to hang it up on your walls. Is that weird?" He was chuckling softly now, and a bright red stretched from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. "Uhm, maybe it is too weird. I am so sorry. I don't mean for this to be like a flashy thing where I am trying to show off my own-"

"They are perfect," Kon whispered, gaping at the framed picture. He didn't think Tim would have kept the picture he took of the clone after his shower, and he definitely didn't think Tim would have remembered that Kon decided the bridge picture was his favorite. And for complicated reasons, he felt a heavy tug at his stomach, similar to those butterflies he had discovered a week prior to this moment. He looked up at Tim, who was still smiling nervously and looking down at the picture in Kon's hands. And Kon wanted to surge toward him for-

"Well, I am really glad you think so. I also have this for you," Tim pulled a small plastic bag from the backpack and opened it. He poured its contents out into Kon's open palm and the clone found himself holding an earring. He fumbled the golden hoop through his thumb and forefinger, and he held it up near his face. "I can help," Tim offered softly. After Kon nodded in agreement, Tim took the earring back and turned to face Kon, sitting up on his knees and kneeling over Kon's shoulder to study the tag pierced through his left earlobe. With impossibly gentle hands, Tim unclasped the small hook and pulled the metal ring from his lobe before quickly replacing its spot with the earring. After it was placed, he hooked the earring closed, and poked at the hoop. "Alright!" He announced with a grin and dropped the Cadmus tag into Kon's waiting palm. "You can do whatever you want with that now. Burn it, leave it in space, flush it down the toilet. Whatever you want! We can make a whole show of it."

"Thank you," Kon fumbled with the new earring, feeling the weight of his last inanimate proof of Cadmus finally lifted from his shoulders. He turned to face Tim, who had sat back on his heels now, and he repeated with emphasis, "Thank you. For everything. These are all great."

They were interrupted by the sound of Martha calling up the stairs and summoning the pair for lunch. "Race you?" Tim whispered with a smirk and jumped off the bed before Kon had a moment to react, and he bolted from the room. But Kon had so much to think about now, between the pictures Tim had gifted him and the earring that replaced the insulting tag. And most important, the urge Kon had to do something; which was the same urge he had when he looked at Tim's lips. But Kon heard him reach the top of the stairs and with a shake of his head, he zipped from the room and within a split second Tim felt a hand grasp at the back of his collar.

"Cheater," Kon sang in his ear with a chuckle following shortly after, and he flew around Tim, who threw his arms out with a hitched giggle.

Martha Kent watched the pair interact with one another while they all ate sandwiches and chips at the table. Bruce and Clark had left and Lois was in Metropolis working on her article. Jon was taking up all of Jonathan's attention by talking about some movie he watched a few days ago. And Kon was enthralled by every word to come out of Tim's mouth as he spoke to the clone. Martha wore a small knowing smile of her own.

Chapter Text

The rest of the day proved to be exciting. After Kon ate lunch with his family and Tim, Martha suggested they go into town to pick out some clothes and items for his room-since he had been so adamant about receiving help decorating his bedroom from his friend. And though she adored seeing Kon floating around the house and wearing her own child's old clothing, he really deserved to pick out his own. The trip into town was short and successful as Kon had chosen a few shirts and a pair of shoes that he wanted, and then Tim walked him around the back isle of the movie store to look at posters for his walls.

"Definitely this one," Tim insisted when he found a Back to the Future poster. Kon knew enough about the movie from the borrowed memories that he could recognize the title and describe the plot as two people traveling to the past (despite the title), but when he failed to impress Tim with this knowledge, the younger insisted they watch this movie after finally having the opportunity to finish Star Wars. And as though the universe heard him, Tim flipped to the next poster and found it to be Star Wars. Martha allowed Kon to pick out a total of four posters for his room-after the additional discovery of a Ghostbusters movie poster and a large map of the solar system with glow in the dark stars that he felt he couldn't live without.

Their last stop was the bookstore where Kon picked out two books by Ernest Hemingway and Candide by Voltaire. Tim leaned heavy over his shoulder as the clone skimmed the pages of the last, and he asked with raised eyebrows, "Can you read that?" Kon nodded, and Tim was in awe. He informed Kon that he was taking a French class in school but he could only count to fifty and state that he is a boy who eats apples and bread. In exchange for movie recommendations and assistance in making his room feel like a home, Kon promised to help Tim with his foreign language homework in secret while Martha's back was turned to them. To Kon's absolute delight, nobody paid him any attention while he was out of the house. Several adults stopped Martha to ask about her family, but Tim and Kon both remained completely invisible thanks to the camouflage provided by his ball cap and their plain t-shirts; they looked like any other teenagers spending the day out in the town. They spent the rest of the evening hanging up his new posters and rearranging his few pieces of furniture until Kon had a product with which he was pleased.

And all too soon, Bruce returned to bring Tim home.

The weekend developed slowly into the following week, and Kon found his rhythm in waking, working, and always spending time with his family. As his powers continued to develop in surprising bursts though, he found the world becoming louder and more difficult to ignore. Kon woke up to the tune of a fire alarm screeching from states over, which resulted in a pounding headache and hissed inhales from the clone as he tried to block the sound out with his pillow, but the attempt was fruitless. His agony brought Kal kneeling to his side, and when the sounds only worsened, Kal scooped him up into his arms and traveled to the Fortress of Solitude, explaining to Kon that they would stay there for a few days until this dissipated. The shining crystals and distance from busy life provided him with the relief he craved, and he felt he could breathe again as soon as they entered. Kon focused on practicing his flying and laser vision for the following days, though he remained unsuccessful in performing super breath ever since his first visit to the Fortress. To his surprise though, he managed to perform X-ray vision for the first time, which was a complete accident that startled him when he opened his eyes from meditation and found himself looking at Superman's skeletal structure rather than his face. Looking back at his reaction later, he could admit it was funny that he screeched and jumped back with the added shove of his telekinesis that smacked Kal against the opposite wall; but in the moment, it was very stressful.

Listening and shifting through the clamorous sounds that occasionally stretched the miles from the countless cities became more manageable as the hours of meditation passed him by and the warm light from the crystals burrowed deep into his skin. Slowly, he could sift through the sounds until he found the calming ones to focus on and drown out the others. It was Thursday morning when Kon found a wedding ceremony in Florida, a boat sailing in the Atlantic, and finally an earthquake in Mexico.

"Kal-" he gasped and opened his eyes, but Kal was already standing and holding his hand outstretched to help the clone up from his cross-legged position on the floor. And with a grin, Kon jumped up and they flew in just a heartbeat until they reached the scene. The pair worked together in rescuing the villagers from the shaking earth, carrying the crying bodies to safety and providing them comfort-though Kon had to admit that Kal was much better at that last part. The kids loved his leather jacket and they rested their palms on the symbol of hope on his chest. The elderly hugged Kon tightly and pressed their lips to his cheek in disoriented appreciation that he accepted with slight groans and furrowed brows. Kal found this funny and Kon couldn't help the eye roll that passed his expression as another woman clung to him.

They returned to the Fortress as Kon was still shaking the clinging dirt from his leather jacket, and Kal wrapped an arm around his shoulder. Kon glanced up at him with a wide, crooked grin as Kal apprised, "You're doing an excellent job. Really, it took me months to learn this stuff. And even longer to control it enough to save so many people like you did today. I am really proud of you." And Kon relished under the praise, smile widening and chest blooming with pride. "In fact, I would like to introduce you to someone."

Kal strolled to the panel in the center of the Fortress and produced two shining crystals from a safe secured in the bottom as Kon watched him with both eyebrows raised and a question of "who?" caught on his lips. Superman then placed the crystals into a divot on either side of the panel that was perfectly made for the stones, but Kon was surprised to find he hadn't noticed the crevices until that very moment. And before he could ask about these mysterious actions or the stranger he was moments from meeting, a startling image of a being was produced before them. The image was that of a man Kon had seen before, and he remembered the eyes and the nose from the very person he found speaking to his namesake in the virtual Krypton. The only differences were that this one was tinted with blue and green in color and that he was looking directly at Kon.

"Kon, this is the artificial intelligence of my father, Jor-El," Kal began and Kon's mouth fell agape as he stepped closer, though he noticed the transparent fluttering resemblance of a face looked back at him in judgement. "He left these communication crystals to his AI in my pod when he sent me to this planet, and he has proven to be extremely beneficial to me and my development. Even in his death, he is looking out for me." And after a brief paused, Kal continued, "Father, this is Kon-El."

"Oh yes. The clone comprised of my son and the earth man Lex Luthor," Jor-El responded in a complicated voice, distorted in technology but still understandable enough to create the cold chills that traveled up Kon's arms. "I wondered when you would decide to bring him to me."

Kon stiffened, back completely erect now and eyes narrowing dangerously in defense. He wasn't sure how to feel about the very first thing his grandfather addressing was that he was a clone mixed with an undesirable human. His gaze flicked to Kal and he murmured slowly, "Okay. So when did you tell him that?"

"He didn't have to tell me anything," Jor-El extinguished that flame of an idea before Kal could himself. "Kelex's discoveries are directly downloaded into my own intelligence. What the Fortress knows, I know. And we both know a lot about you and your genetics. We know your blood type, age, weight, and even your developing abilities. We knew about your impressive tactile telekinesis that allows you the advantage of viewing this world in a way I will never be able to. You are interesting indeed, but I sense that you have great turmoil running through your veins and obstructing your heart. Come back again when you have discovered yourself and reached a mind of clarity."

And then he disappeared, leaving in his wake Kal's anxious grimace and Kon's imprisoned breath held clasped in his throat. He felt his cheeks warmed in the aftermath of his berating and his tongue felt too big in his mouth, obstructing any snide remarks of his own that begged to come out and dissipate the tension. But he was exhausted and he wished to become invisible and avoid whatever Kal felt the need to say to him.

"That didn't go as well as I was hoping," Kal admitted softly and Kon deflated.

They traveled back to the farm in silence, and the unfortunate concoction of anxiety and guilt rolled off of Kal's shoulders in waves that threatened to drown Kon-and this only frustrated the clone further. He wanted everything to just stop already: the expectations he placed on himself, his own limitations as half of a Kryptonian, and especially the gnawing reminder that Jor-El was correct. When they landed on the front porch, he didn't allow Kal the opportunity to speak to him about his very first meeting with his grandfather, and instead he threw the front door open and zipped up the stairs before Martha could ask how their week was.

Kon slammed his bedroom door closed and felt satisfied with the way the force sent vibrations through the walls around him. He threw himself onto his bed and listened to the springs of the mattress squeal over the aggressive thumping of his heart in his temples. His fingertips itched and his jaw was sore from being held so tightly. He felt so angry.

Jor-El had seemed so nice in the virtual Krypton simulation that he visited so many times; and by the way Kal had spoken of his own alien parents, Kon thought he must be incredible. The opportunity to actually meet a digital copy of his grandfather was beyond cool, as he never would have imagined the chance to do so. But the alien, even in artificial conversation, was only disappointed and critical over the clone. He grumbled under his breath that he didn't even understand what turmoil the old guy was talking about, though he knew this was a lie, and he rolled his eyes and huffed a furious breath as his chest swelled with tension. Before he could push out in rebellion with that telekinesis that felt like licking fire beneath his skin now, a cold nose brushed against his cheek. Kon didn't hear Krypto enter his room through the open window, but he groaned loudly and turned away from the dog, just to see the white beast reappear on the other side of his bed.

Krypto offered a wet lick to his cheek and another to his arm. And with a relenting sigh, Kon scooted to the side of his mattress and allowed room for the dog to lay beside him. He ran his fingers through Krypto's fur and inhaled deeply. He exhaled. And with another thrum of his own fingers through the dog's fur, he inhaled again. And exhaled. Kon's eyes drifted closed as the hammering of his heart settled and he felt Krypto snuggle in closer to his side. The aching need for hot water running against his skin dissipated and he moved his own face closer to the dog's until his lips rested just above the hair covering the apex of Krypto's skull.

A short knock on his door startled Kon out of his near-slumber, but Krypto simply huffed at the disruption. Jonathan Kent stepped into his room and softly closed the door behind him before approaching the bed.

"Bad week?" Jonathan asked in a whisper and Kon sat up, drawing his knees to his chest and frowning heavily. He didn't want to talk about this right now, especially not to Jonathan who knew nothing about the situation. Kon wrapped his arms around his legs and looked away from the man, purposefully staring at the walls instead. He traced the lines of the posters Tim had picked out in his mind and absently wished to be trapped in the paper rather than his room right now where the man was still watching him with a determining gaze.

Finally, the silence stretched too far and the discomfort was sitting painful in the clone's gut, and he admitted, "He didn't like me."

"Who?"

"Kal's father-my grandfather. I met his AI and he-" his voice hitched and his mouth snapped shut, unwilling to continue in a broken voice that matched the state of his heart and spirit. Everything was going so well all week-he was improving quickly, Kal had even said that. His flight was getting faster and his laser vision was better controlled. Even though the initial shock was startling, his development of X-ray vision was cause enough for celebration. But it wasn't good enough for his own Krpytonian family-and if the Kryptonian part of him was a disappointment, he shuttered to think of what his human side would prove. Kon held his legs closer to his chest and his mind swam at the horrific thought of the Kents discovering this and finally ridding the comfortable house of him.

"May I sit down?" Kon startled to hear Jonathan ask this, and he blinked owlishly at him before nodding dumbly.

Jonathan sat down next to his feet and Kon curled his toes as the pressure in his chest swelled. Jonathan's expression was tight and his upper body was rigid in an obvious attempt to hold still despite the telekinesis threatening to throw him across the room. He hated causing anybody's suffering, and seeing the grimace was enough for Kon to chew on the inside of his cheek with impatience and shove his hand through Krypto's fur again. The dog threw an unimpressed glance his way but returned his face to the clone's pillow and closed his eyes. And after running his fingers across the dog's back twice more, Kon inhaled deeply and felt the warm blanket diminish enough.

Jonathan cleared his throat and said, "I don't know everything about this world we live in. It's vast and complicated, and it seems to get more so each day. Finding and raising Clark was an unimaginable change to our lives too, so many years ago. I had no idea about the wonders of our universe until we found someone from outside of our own planet. But even now, seeing the things my son can do and seeing the abilities of those with which he works-it is a firm reminder that I do not know or understand even a fraction of what goes on in this world. Now that being said, I do know you, and I want you to listen very closely to me right now." Kon slowly raised his gaze to Jonathan's firm one when the man paused in his speech, and the clone found himself trapped in his stern vision. "You are strong and brilliant, and you are such a joy to have here with us. We are so lucky to have you here in our lives, and I cannot imagine a single day passing now without you being a part of us. You are an absolute gift, and it would be impossible not to love you, and it is impossible to be disappointed in you. You are marvelous. Any person who cannot see that is not seeing you."

Kon felt his breath caught uncomfortably in his throat, and he blinked rapidly to keep his misting eyes at bay. It was so apparent immediately upon meeting the Kents that they were the role models who taught Kal to be so good and loving, but it still surprised him to be on the receiving end of such kind words.

"I am sorry you had a bad week, and if you ever want to talk about it to someone, we are all here for you. Always."

Kon's gaze dropped as one tear slipped over and rolled down his cheek, and the urge to lift his hand up to feel the man's own palm against his was tempting and tickled at his mind. But he ignored that in favor of something else that he wanted instead. His knees fell apart and rested on the mattress in abduction, and he leaned forward to wrap his arms around Jonathan's neck, remaining silent but relishing in the warmth provided as the man hugged him back.

That same evening, Kon watched from the kitchen table as Jonathan hung up a new framed photo in the living room. This particular picture was taken outside of the house on the front porch just a day before he and Kal returned to the Fortress, and it showed Kon, Jonathan, Martha, Jon, and Lois all clad in baseball caps and loose jerseys as they were playing a game in the yard. The youngest had dirt smeared all across his front after an unfortunate sliding incident that, despite the effort put forth, did not land him the base. But they were all looking brightly at the lens and their laughter was captured in a print that was forever silent and loud all at once in the clone's mind. When Jonathan stepped out of the room, Kon ran his fingers along the picture and traced their faces. He found himself looking at it often even as the evening progressed.

Everything was going well again and spirits were high once more until that very weekend, one full week after Bruce brought Tim back to Gotham, and all of the familial progress took several leaps backwards in an unfortunate direction.

“People in town have already been talking. And it’s time to clear up these rumors and enroll you in school,” Kal stated, and Kon hated the sound of that. The pair were sitting at the dining room table with the rest of the family for breakfast. Jon’s attention was entirely captured by the iPad in front of him until he heard this, causing him to snap his head up and listen to his father. Kon noticed the other adults were not surprised in Kal's statement, and it annoyed Kon to know they had obviously discussed this without him. “You are going to attend the same high school I went to when I grew up here-Smallville High. I know it may sound a little silly, but I think it will be really good for you.”

Kon's eyes narrowed.

“You’ll be a Smallville Giant, just like all of us here, except for Lois of course,” Jonathan nodded his head at her-the one person at the table to not grow up (or currently be growing up, as Jon’s case) in Smallville. “Maybe you can be on the football team too?”

“That is a lame oxymoron,” Kon bit out in response to the first part of his sentence as Lois spoke up next in a firm voice regarding the second.

“Absolutely not. No child of mine will play football-biological or otherwise,” she added with a principle nod to Kon. He appreciated the gesture but it was obvious she was just fighting against football and not him attending school period. And just before he could shut this entire idea down for good, an incredibly unhelpful opinion was shared.

“Kon, you are coming to school? We can eat lunch together and play at recess; it will be awesome!” Jon cried out as though they weren’t several biological years apart, insuring they would be in completely separate buildings. Kon didn’t even bother dignifying that with a response, rolling his eyes instead and huffing.

Kal was watching him with a careful eye that only infuriated Kon further. “It’ll be fun. You get to meet new people and make some friends your own age. You can go to the movies and to the mall; you don’t have to be kept around the house all day feeling bored. Doesn’t that sound like an exciting opportunity?”

But attending public school did not sound like an exciting opportunity. The clone wondered if Kal was trying to get rid of him. It was a small worry that wormed it’s way to the forefront of his mind, planting its flag and refusing retreat. And once he thought it, he feared it made too much sense to be false. He wore a large frown and shrugged noncommittally. He knew his move into a functioning household meant he was taking up space that wasn’t previously occupied, like when he reached over Jon for the milk in the mornings or dodged between Martha and Kal to zip out of the door. He didn’t think anyone was upset by those things, and they mostly acted like they enjoyed having him there. But now he felt unsure and wary.

“We need to pick out a legal name for you too," Jonathan added softly. "Clark's secret identity is very important so we can keep everyone safe and allow him the opportunity to keep saving the world.”

“But I like my name.” Kon retorted, crossing his arms and scowling. “And I don’t need to go to school. Luthor loaded me up with all sorts of information. I know up to advanced Calculus 4 and statistics based on the current MIT curriculum. And I can perform theoretical and applied physics without using a calculator. All areas of chemistry are an absolute breeze, and I'd bet I know more about the organic chemistry embedded in you than you do yourself. Geography is easy too, and even if I needed a refresher, what better way to study that than actually flying there? Do I need to keep going? A public school system cannot teach me anything that I don’t already know.”

“This morning you didn’t know what a fist bump meant.” Jon mumbled, slumped in his chair and pouting as he was feeling defensive now too over his school and his foiled lunch plans.

“That wasn’t a memory he gave me,” Kon hissed through bared teeth, eyes flashing red in his own defense. He hated the thick pit of insecurity that accompanied not understanding something that everyone felt to be common knowledge. Especially since the one feeling that way was a six-year-old.

“Okay, that’s enough. Jon, that isn’t helping. Kon, we aren’t changing your name, just adding another one for people who don’t know who you are,” Kal explained carefully, looking between the two boys who were both angrily avoiding the eye contact of the adults and each other.

“None of them know who I am, I just got here. And unless they were grown to be Luthor's puppet in that awful lab with me, I don’t know them either. I already told you, I don’t need to go to school because I already know more than any public high school teacher could offer." Before the alien could respond, Kon looked up into his eyes with fire of his own and added pointedly, "Kal, this is entirely pointless; you just don’t want me around.”

“That is not-”

“I am not going to school,” he demanded and pushed back from the table, standing up and turning away.

“Kon-El, wait. We are still discussing-"

“No. I want...” He ground his teeth together and clenched his jaw. He wasn’t sure what he wanted. He wanted to be alone in his room, he wanted to keep his name, he wanted things to stop changing after he was finally becoming accustomed to stability. He wanted everyone to stop looking at him now with their concerned gazes all because he had stopped in the middle of a sentence after storming up from the table. He hated that he was making a scene now and Luthor’s sickening voice played again in his head-

-acting like a spoiled child and throwing a tantrum.

And suddenly the urge to be sick plagued his stomach. His vision blurred and the warmth in his chest was threatening to burst. “This sucks,” he spat before setting his jaw and turning away to stalk out of the house. Just before the front door slammed shut, he heard Jon protesting to his parents that what he had said what true, and Kon didn't know what a fist bump was, and as a result the clone felt nearer to a burst of anger.

Kal caught up with him just as his shoes hit the grass, appearing by his side with a light swish of cooled air.

“Kon,” his voice was soft and measured and Kon blew a huffed exhale up at the hair hanging over in forehead in frustration. But the clone refused to answer vocally, and instead crossed his arms over his chest and walked faster-though he already knew there was no possible way to outrun Superman. He heard the alien’s footsteps immediately matching his. “Kon, we need to talk about this more. I know you are frustrated, but we need to finish this discussion.”

“Some discussion,” Kon hissed. “I have no say in this shit.”

“You’re right,” he admitted, having the decency to appear appropriately ashamed. “And I am sorry that you feel trapped in this decision. We can take this just one minute at a time. What do you need right now?”

Kon pouted his lower lip out and considered. The thought of being forced to attend high school in a small town-something that would take him away from his family and home-infuriated him. And it was even worse that nobody seemed to believe schooling wouldn’t even benefit him at all. He hated himself for the thought even crossing his mind, but he almost wished for Luthor to be here just to back him up in confirming he does not need to go to high school. And he almost said this out loud just to relish in the resulting shock that would pass by the alien's face. But he did not say it, swallowing the poisonous words instead and nearly choking on the bitter taste.

Under consideration, Kon understood he really wanted to take a shower and stand like a statue under the holy water until the steam sucked the anger from his pores. But the alien made a deal with him that he could only take one a day, and he already took one earlier after he fed the animals. So he settled for the next best thing, and the pair found themselves flying high above the ground, zipping through clouds and enjoying the rush that their speed allowed.

After five minutes had passed-which felt like so many hours of movement at their speed, Kon slowed high above Northern Africa and spoke for the first time since leaving the farm, “Doesn’t it make you feel worse when people call you Clark? Like they aren’t really talking to you?”

“Not at all. But I was given that name when I was a baby. I don’t mind that my parents call me that, or my wife. Or my friends. It is also my name and it doesn’t take away from the one that my Kryptonian parents gave me,” Kal answered honestly. They listened to the vehicles pass beneath them and the sounds of children playing before he added, "I am still Kal-El just as much as I am Clark Kent-they both mean me. And Kon-El will forever mean you, even with another name. Do you believe you will feel like people aren't actually talking to you if you choose a legal name to use in public?"

Kon pondered this and wondered how he would feel if people in his life called him by a pretend name, and he didn't think he liked it at all. He had waited for a name since waking, his nomenclature being the very thing Luthor held over him in vicious threat, and he worried it was being stripped from him again. The thought pulled at his stomach and he felt ill. When Kal showed him the virtual Krypton and he saw the lively, brave face of his namesake, it had felt unreal. It was even more dreamlike when he had the opportunity to tell Tim his name and then listen to it produced from his lips. But now, Kal wanted to add another one. And Kon understood the ramifications of his secret identity being spilled, even believing that it would directly affect many more families of superheroes besides his own. If Kal didn't find his human name to be insulting, as it was given to him by the Kents, maybe Kon could also find his own second name to be just as normal. So with a deep breath, he informed Kal that he was ready to go back home and he would accept a second name.

They returned to the ground and entered through the front door just a heartbeat later to find the dining room table bare save Martha and Jonathan. They both examined Kon's face carefully when he rounded the corner, but they were polite enough to do it subtly. He sat down at his place around the table and Kal sat down next to him.

“Now, Kon,” Kal began again as he cleared his throat. “I know this is a lot to take in all at once. And unfortunately there is another thing too...” he paused and glanced to his parents for strength, who smiled back in return. “We cannot tell people you are my child. You look so much like me, but people in town will try to shame Lois if they think I had a kid before she and I were together.”

Kon frowned in confusion because he truly wasn't expecting to hear this. “But that doesn’t make any sense. Why would they do that?”

“Because some people are hateful, love. They enjoy being involved in any situation they can make scandalous in their own minds. Their words do not matter, but it would be best to avoid the issue all together and save both Lois and yourself the trouble. So if people ask, the story is that you are Clark’s cousin from out of state, and you were forced to move here into our house due to unforeseen family circumstances.” Martha explained. “We can remain as vague as necessary, because none of this is any of their business.”

Before the clone could snap back and argue further that this whole situation was becoming impossibly muddled, Kal reported, “This doesn’t mean that you are any less than who you are now, Kon-El. This is only what your teachers and classmates will think, and nothing else has to matter for us in this house. And it doesn’t mean our family dynamic will change at all-I mean that. We are still taking care of you. And what Lois and I say still goes, we are still the boss of you,” he added with a smirk.

“No way. Martha is the boss,” Kon murmured in contradiction and Martha winked at him again, coughing something about him still being her favorite.

“Now for that name. Why don’t we pick something really close? Something that can still help you remember the name your father gave to you. Does that sound alright?” The clone shrugged but Martha continued without allowing her enthusiasm to diminish, “Let’s see here. Kon. Kon... ner. Conner? How does Conner sound?”

“Conner El?” Kon asked in a murmur, feeling the name around in his mouth.

“Conner Kent,” Jonathan corrected, reaching across the table and ruffling the clone’s hair to elicit a hesitant smile. “You are a Kent.” And Kon couldn't deny that he sort of liked to hear that.

It was decided and Bruce Wayne assisted them in forging the papers until Conner Kent legally existed, being the cousin of Clark Kent and currently under the guardianship of Martha and Jonathan Kent.

"Try and think of this as a social challenge rather than an educational challenge. I know you are already brilliant, and I can almost bet they won't teach you a single new thing in this building, but let's try to do this anyway," Kal suggested the following day as he handed Kon a pair of eyeglasses. When Kon scrunched his nose and opened his mouth to ask why he was being given these, Kal clarified, "It is sort of a family tradition for us." And he helped Kon turn the glasses with his gentle hands placed over the clone's, and he raised them to his face, pushing them up over his nose and then stepping back with a grin. Kon looked at him with wide eyes emphasized by the lenses and he focused on the new weight of them resting on his face and pressed against his cheeks.

Jon reached up to enthusiastically grasp at the glasses from his seat on the kitchen table, claiming that he wanted a turn trying them on and Kon reluctantly allowed that. He wasn't even sure why the kid was there with them instead of planted in front of the television. But there he was, slipping the large glasses onto his own face and hooking the temples around his ears. Kon bit the insides of his cheeks in an attempt to hide his smile as Jon grinned toothily up at him wearing an oversized pair of glasses that slid down his face in stubborn defiance. He took a deep breath and nodded back at Kal. He could look at school attendance as a social challenge.

Kon was allowed a few extra days to become accustomed to the idea of school, but by Wednesday he found himself standing outside of the school’s front door, tugging at the sleeves of his button up and shifting his weight anxiously between his tennis shoe-clad feet. His false glasses were pushed up on his head and holding his curly hair back away from his forehead. A few straggler students were racing into the school now, but for the most part, everyone else was already inside the tall building. Jonathan held Kon’s red backpack loosely by the strap in his slack arm at his side while Martha flipped through the file in her hands one final time before nodding firmly and facing Kon. Whatever she saw on his face made her smile sympathetically.

“You look wonderful, darling,” she encouraged him and pulled his glasses down to rest on the bridge of his nose. She brushed down the collar of his shirt and ran a hand through his hair. “Deep breath. It’s time to go inside.”

The trio walked into the school and Kon was assaulted by the putrid smell of his surroundings. It was a simmering stew of sweaty bodies, bland food, and watered-down disinfectant soap all harassing his nostrils at once, and he smacked a hand over his face to cover his nose. Jonathan snickered at the sight and elbowed his side softly. The building was filled with the largest number of heartbeats he had ever been enclosed with until this moment, and he did as Martha suggested-he lowered his hand and took a deep breath. They entered a man's office with a large plaque on his door providing that he was the school principal. Boss, the donated memories gifted him, and his grimace remained. The man wore a tan-colored suit and a purple tie, and he was balding at the apex of his scalp, a smooth area surrounded by greying fuzzy hair. He wore thin-rimmed glasses and a large frown. A wooden name plate stood on his table and reading in horrendous cursive, Jeremy Fishbourne.

Jeremy greeted Martha and Jonathan with a polite nod, and leveled Kon with a raised, expectant eyebrow. Kon didn't know what he was expecting though, and he nodded to the man just as he watched the Kents do. This was clearly not what he wanted as the man scoffed back softly. Jeremy accepted the file from Martha and motioned for the trio to sit in the two chairs sitting across from him. Jonathan directed Kon to the chair, insisting on standing even after the principal offered to find another chair for him. Kon got the feeling the entire greeting was a ridiculous show and based on the subtle wink Martha gave him, she agreed. Jeremy opened the file and glared at Kon over the top of the pages as though he had already determined the clone was bound to fail.

"You are from out of state, huh? Now, it says here, Mr. Kent, that you carried a 4.0 grade point average at your old school. They must have not cared about your dress code though, right? Someone like you may think you are too cool for this old, small town with your previous city life on your résumé and that haircut-" the aggressive beginning snapped Martha into alert, and Jonathan cleared his throat at the man in subtle warning, but Jeremy simply insisted, “We have a reputation to uphold here. We have no places here for slackers or sleepers, and that is exactly what your haircut and attitude tells me about you. Presentation is important, young man, and you should evaluate how you choose to present yourself to the world. All of our students pull their weight and do their work. And you will be expected to perform no less than that. Now. I remember your cousin well. Clark was an excellent student: perfect grades, perfect attendance. Perfect attitude. You have very impressive shoes to fill as a Kent and I am not sure you are up for the challenge of that. Clark was even a football player. Scrawny guy like you have any extracurriculars like that?” Kon gnashed his teeth together in boiling fury until he felt Jonathan’s fingertips brushing against his shoulder. He saw Martha shooting daggers at the man who was now skimming the file and humming softly as he read. “Okay. Looks like you were on the decathlon team at your old school. If you want that here, you’ll have to try out just like every other student. You don’t get a pass just because you may think your old school was more intellectual than some small town. Let’s see here... so you were in choir? Aren’t you just the regular John Travolta?” And Jeremy looked to Kon as though he were expecting an answer. And lucky for him, the clone was feeling generous.

“Who the hell is John Travolta?” Kon hissed levelly with furrowed brows. He was unbelievably irritated, and he wondered if Kal knew he was sending him in to be berated by a man who had never met him.

Jeremy shot forward in his chair, pointing an aggressive finger right in front of Kon’s face, and the clone felt the sudden urge to rip it from his hand. The vein pulsed in threatening harmony at the man's forehead and his cheeks were puffy and red. “Now that is exactly the sort of mightier-than-though attitude that we do not tolerate here-“

“Jeremy,” Martha interrupted emphatically with a hand held up in front of him. “How is your wife doing? I heard she is sick again.”

He sobered quickly, eyes averted and head lowered. “That’s right. It spread again, right to the other lobe of her liver. She’s back on chemo three times a week, and hardly eating.”

“That’s truly horrible. I’ll have to stop by and see her if she’s accepting visitors. In the mean time, I cannot imagine she would be pleased to see you picking on my child and acting like a fool. She is always so kind and you would benefit by learning from her. Any implications that Conner is undeserving, selfish, or uncaring will stop right now, and any comparisons you wish to make regarding him and Clark are also unwelcome. Making assumptions because of his appearance and previous place of residence? That’s the very thing you pride yourself in teaching others to avoid, and yet here you sit in your own hypocrisy like the ass that you've made yourself. You should be ashamed. You know damn well you were provoking him just to get a negative reaction, and you got one exactly like you deserved,” Martha stated with her chin raised high and eyes narrowed dangerously. "He showed great strength and resistance throughout your entire show there, and any other person with a voice would have said much worse to you in response than he did."

Kon watched with his lower lip caught between his teeth and an amused smirk growing at the corner of his mouth as Jeremy’s face became purple. He sputtered out something resembling an apology to Martha, and he fumbled uncomfortably with his hands, wringing them together and tapping them on the desk.

“In fact, Jonathan and Conner, why don’t the two of you step outside while I finish speaking to Jeremy here,” Martha suggested in a tone that informed the room this statement was more of a demand rather than a question. “Ask the guidance counselor about your class schedule.”

Jonathan cleared his throat and placed his hand on Kon’s shoulder, ticking his head to the door when the clone turned to look at him. He grabbed his backpack and stood up, avoiding eye contact with the flustered principal but allowing his gaze to meet Martha’s kind one as he followed Jonathan out of the office. Kon closed the heavy door behind them and stood looking at Jonathan in a shocked surprise. And after a beat, they both began to snicker quietly, hands pressed over their mouths and eyes wide.

“I can still hear them,” Kon whispered when their laughter died down. “She’s reaming him out.”

“Don’t eavesdrop, you,” Jonathan chuckled, wrapping an around around his shoulder and pulling Kon into a side hug. “Come now, this is a perfect lesson for you as you are about to be surrounded by all sorts of people. You will meet kids from all types of homes-ones that weren’t encouraged to be kind and ones that weren’t taught to be honest. But regardless what you see, remember that our family doesn’t turn a blind eye to the bad stuff. We intervene, just like you saw your grandma do in there with that old bag, Jeremy. He’s really showing his ass now, but he will leave you alone. He’s the kind that only pays attention to the jocks because it helps him relive his own successes from way back in high school. Some people grow up feeling small, whether that be at home or in the classroom, and instead of getting help to become healthy they decide to dish it out when it’s their turn up to bat. That isn’t an excuse, but it is his reason. I’m sorry you had to be on the receiving end of that so early in your life. It’s unfair.”

It was unfair. From his beginning, Kon has hardly had the opportunity for people to actually know him. The scientists gawked at his test tube and trembled in his wake when he escaped. Lex Luthor filled their time by doing most of the talking and almost none of the listening. Even though Donovan promised to get to know him, they were never granted the opportunity. Besides his family now, the only other that he had been able to speak to enough for a relationship to form that traveled deeper than the surface level was Tim.

“And if you have a good day today, maybe we can all watch Grease together.” Jonathan added with a wink, but Kon had no idea what that meant.

Kon and Jonathan were studying his school schedule when Martha emerged from the office, smiling brightly when her eyes landed on the clone’s face. Jeremy stepped out of the office slowly, keeping several steps back and face still colored with shame. He purposefully did not look at anyone in the room, eyes glued to the ground as he cleared his throat and welcomed Kon to Smallville High. And with a hug for good luck and a ruffle of hair, Martha and Jonathan were gone, leaving Kon alone in the office while the guidance counselor grinned cheekily at him.

She introduced herself then as “Ms. Koller” and stood up from her desk to take him on what she called a “super exclusive tour of the school.” Kon quickly found that this was just code for a normal tour of the school, but with added vocabulary for flavor so she would sound like she understood and appreciated the students. She took him through the different departments and stopped to point out the classrooms he would be attending during his first year at the high school. He peeked through the door windows to get an idea of the people he would be around, but seeing the backs of their heads didn’t provide him with information further than there being several students in each room. She showed him the cafeteria and the music hall, and by the time they completed their tour, the first bell rang to signal the end of homeroom. Students flooded the halls.

The shrill sound of the bell resonated through his eardrums, leaving a deafening buzz in its wake, and Kon thought he was going to be sick. He threw quick hands up to cover his ears and Koller gave him a curious gaze. “It’s loud, I know. They didn’t have class bells in your old school?”

He just shrugged and waited for the nausea to dissipate from his stomach. Students shrugging on their backpacks or deep in a gossiping conversation passed by him, some bumping into him without even seeming to notice. But at least to his surprise and relief, no one stopped and stared.

“Well that first bell means its time for your very first class as a Giant. That’s very exciting, I know! Let me show you to your locker. We are so lucky to have a very special team of students called the Welcome Mats, and they took the initiative of filling your locker with the textbooks your classes require. Wasn’t that wonderful of them?”

Kon would give just about anything to be rid of this conversation and be home. But he painted on a wobbly grin and nodded. “Sure was.”

Koller led him to his locker, located at the end of the hall and at the bottom of two rows, and she pointed out that the location was based solely on luck and last name. “Now that you are an established student with us, who knows, maybe next year you will have a top locker! They are top commodity here at Smallville High. And we don’t allow trading. It only complicates things. The locks are built in, see this? Turn the lock twice to the right past zero to reset it, and land on number five. Next, turn left until you hit number twenty-one. And finally, right again until you get ten. Remember that? Five, twenty-one, ten. Go ahead and try it.”

Kon felt time had nearly come to a complete stop as he was forced to open his locker in front of the cheerful woman. Students were buzzing around him and rushing to their first class, but luckily whoever used the locker above his didn’t come by. When he proved to the counselor that he could open the lock, she smiled proudly, pointed out the first book he would need, and disappeared through the crowd with a wish good luck. Kon was left standing by his open locker with a frustrated grimace when he felt the presence of people stopped behind him. He turned and was faced with three girls watching him with eased, knowing smirks. 

“Are you new?” The first one to speak asked. She had long, brown hair waving down her back and she looked at him with big, green eyes. “I’m Jenna. What’s your name?”

“Kon...er,” he added reluctantly. He understood the need for a secret identity, and he hated the idea of disappointing Kal.

“Hey Conner. I’m Stacy. That’s some pretty cool hair you’ve got there,” the next girl noted, reaching up to twirl a finger through a lock of his hair. She had blonde hair just dipping past her shoulders, and she had a splatter of freckles printed across her face. “Mama said Martha adopted another kid, but she never said you’d be so... urban.”

“Martha didn’t adopt me, she's my-”

“Where are you from anyway?” The final girl asked, introducing herself then as Reagan. She had blonde hair that was darker than Stacy’s, and it curled ferociously around her head. She held a cell phone out in front of her, obviously in the middle of messaging someone else before they decided to stop and talk to the new kid.

“Cadmus,” Kon answered honestly. He found no reason to lie about that part. When he brought it up to Lois the previous week, she mentioned it was a very secret lab that her military father didn’t even know about. And further, Kon wasn't feeling very creative yet to come up with his own story.

“I’ve never heard of that town. Is it in New York?” Stacy asked.

“Sure,” Kon shrugged and closed his locker as the three girls swooned. He thought their reactions to him were kind of funny as he had never received this before, and he leaned against the locker with a wink that elicited excited giggles.

“You are really cute,” Reagan admitted, smirking now on the right side of her mouth and eyeing him carefully. “What’s your deal?” But when she was met with a confused head tilt, she clarified, “Do you play any sports? Academic team? God forbid, marching band?”

“You should definitely play football,” Stacy exclaimed with a gasp as she reached out to squeeze his bicep. "That's the big thing to do here."

“I’m not allowed to,” he shrugged his backpack onto his shoulder and pushed away from the lockers. When met with the question of where he was going for his first class, he read the paper he held and answered, “Biology with Frankie,” which was followed by a symphony of groans and cheers.

“Me too, Conner. I’ll walk you there,” Jenna provided a small smile up at him with a hint of pink coloring her cheeks now that they were stepping away from her friends. “I hope you’ll like it here. The town is small, I know. Especially if you came from a state as incredible as New York.” She chatted politely as they walked to the classroom, telling Kon about how she’s never been out of the state before and how there isn’t a whole lot to do in town, but the diners and lakes are fun anyway if you go with friends.

Just as he suspected, he was bored during classes throughout the entire day. Not only was the material far too easy for him, but he couldn’t make himself focus on his school work at all. Teachers caught him staring at the window and tapping his pencil multiple times before they threatened him with detention. The urge to tune out again was strong, but he felt whatever detention entailed, Kal wouldn’t appreciate that. But he was relieved to find that he had several classes with Jenna, including his lunch period, and they sat together in each of them.

"Conner Kent," his math professor snapped and his mind reeled in shock. Kon peeled his gaze away from the smudged window and he looked back at the tall woman meeting his confused expression with a frustrated one. "Am I boring you?" Kon fought back the urge to nod, because he knew for a fact that would not end well. "Why don't you solve the equation on the board?"

Kon squinted at the white board for a second, scanning his gaze across the equation composed of several components before deciding, "It's eighty-seven point nine six repeated."

The professor blinked, startled. But his surprising answer didn't satisfy her as she glanced at his desk looking for signs of a cellphone or open book, and Kon discovered with an eye roll that she believed he was cheating. She gracefully ignored that she found no evidence and demanded next, "Come up to the board and show your work."

Kon wanted to hiss back a refusal at the prospect of acting as her puppet, standing and writing it out on the board for everyone to see when he had already provided her with the answer she demanded in lieu of allowing him to continue sitting silently and watching the outside. He wanted to tell the woman about how the pre-calculus equation she had written out was too simple for him as it was several lessons below his qualifications. But as the professor's eyes narrowed, Kon heard Jenna murmur from next to him, "It's for us to see instead of her." And he glanced over at her empty sheet of paper lying before her. With a sigh of defeat, Kon slid out of his seat and scribbled out the work step-by-step on the board while he felt the professor's gaze threaten to burn holes through his back.

But as soon as the bell rang in his final class for the day, he leapt out of his chair and made his way through the herds of people until he reached the school exit. He couldn’t wait to fly. He deviated from the large group of teenagers as they moved towards the parked buses and their vehicles, and Kon walked quickly around to the back of the school to avoid the eye of any onlookers for his take off. To his surprise and slight excitement though, he felt fingers close around his wrist just as he was reaching up to remove the glasses. He turned and found Jenna smiling brightly up at him.

“I’m glad I caught you,” she stated in a huffy voice as she caught her breath, and Kon realized she must have jogged to catch him. Her eyes fell to his feet before raising again. “You sure are fast. A couple of us are going to get milkshakes and do homework together at the diner I told you about this morning. You wanna... come with me?” Jenna asked in such a kind, gentle voice that she almost coaxed a yes from his lips. She was his first friend from school after all, and her encouragement definitely saved him from unknown wrath in math class. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and Kon thought of Jonathan and Martha, and how the pair had met when they were so young but they have spent their entire lives together since then. He wondered if that was what Jenna wanted from him-and after a pause, he wondered if that was what he wanted from Jenna. She was beautiful and she so easily adored him already, even though he was wearing a lame button up shirt. He enjoyed listening to her speak and eating lunch with her. And he even enjoyed the idea of going to a diner with her and sitting close while they finished homework.

But when he was honest with himself, as he so often needed to be, he believed he only wanted to be good friends with Jenna because he didn't feel that surge in his stomach that he felt when he was around-

"What do you say, Conner?" she asked again, softly and with a waning smile.

Hearing the name was the metaphorical slap in the face from reality reminding him that none of his classmates know who he is at all. They don't know he has Kryptonian DNA and can fly. They don't know that Bruce called him a kidnap victim and that he didn't exist as a sentient being until just about a month ago. And as the last syllable of his pretend name rang out from her throat, only one extra sound for his name to become something else, his stature fell. He lied, "Sorry, Jen. I can't. Martha says I have to go home right after school." And without waiting for a response, he turned around and walked away, moving toward the town until he could be guaranteed the privacy to take off of the ground and fly back home. He could feel Jenna's heart racing, the wet thunk pounding against her own chest and the blood rushing to her face in response to the declination, far after his feet lifted from the gravel underneath him.

When he stepped through the threshold of the kitchen, he found Martha waiting for him with wide, surprised eyes. She informed him with a guilty grimace that Jonathan was heading to the school now to pick him and Jon up, but he politely relieved her worries by stating he was itching to move all day, so he took the opportunity to do so as soon as school ended. When asked, he said that school was fine and science was interesting, but then he climbed the stairs for some greatly-needed peace of mind as Krypto followed with excitement. He was still lying in bed and staring at the empty cieling when he heard Jon's stomping steps bouncing up the stairs as the younger was calling out for Kon. So he slipped out of his window and flew to the field far from the house where the sound of Jon's disappointment was distorted through the walls and several yards of breeze.

He settled down in a soft patch of grass with the house and barn to his left and fields of wheat, corn, and sunflowers to his right. Krypto followed his movement in silence and rested next to him, lying down on his side and sighing in content. The light wind wrapped around his cheeks and the sunlight grazed against his arms. And with the rays pressed against him, he felt his lungs expand for oxygen and his eyelids fluttered closed. The warmth radiated through his limbs, and he could feel the source for his telekinesis blossom deep in his chest. He laid down in the tall grass, uncaring of the bugs burrowing in the soil underneath him or the poking blades of grass tickling his neck. Because he could just breathe and he felt harmonious.

Several minutes passed him before he realized he didn't feel the prickling grass below him anymore, and he cracked an eyelid open to find he was no longer resting against the earth, but floating just above it instead. His legs were bent at the knee and he felt a few weeds reaching the tips of his shoes. He turned his head and found his arm hanging lazily to his side with his fingers buried in Krypto's white fur below him. And his eye slipped shut again.

“Feels good, right?”

He fell back down to the ground with a thunk and a dramatic groan in his surprise. Krypto perked up for a moment at the disturbance before nestling closer and resting his head in Kon’s lap, sighing dramatically. Kon peered up sheepishly at the woman standing over him, embarrassed that he had been caught so unaware by someone, but when he found he didn't know this person he frowned. She had blonde waving hair running down her back and she was smirking at the clone beneath her. She was clad in a blue suit so similar to his own resting safely in his bedroom, with the bright printed symbol over her chest that resembled Superman's and now his. Their suits were so similar that Kon was tempted to accuse her of sneaking into his room and stealing his, but she wore a flowing red cape with lamé trimmings that distinguished hers from his, as well as heightened her impact of visual importance. The material caught the sun rays and allowed the light color to bleed through and rest on Kon's face.

In the excitement of adopting a new identity and actually attending his first day of public school, Kon had nearly forgotten Kal’s promise to introduce him to one other family member-one that was supposed to visit the previous week when they were busy studying at the Fortress.

“What’s your name?” She asked with a gentle smile and lowered herself to the ground to sit next to him in the grass. He thought it was a very forward and he still wanted to spend this time alone-or alone with Krypto's subtle presence. But her smirk at his humiliating tumble had vanished and it was replaced by a friendly and curious gaze, and with the addition of the house of El on her suit, he couldn't help but trust her.

“Kon-El. Or Conner now, I guess,” he spat with furrowed brows, before leveling her with an interested gaze. “Who are you?”

“I’m Kara-El, Kal’s cousin. Our fathers were brothers. You look just like him, you know? Kal, I mean. I came here last week to meet you, but Martha says you two had traveled to the Fortress for a few days and she didn't know when you would get back. Lucky I decided to return today though, huh? Who else would have completely wrecked your sun bath and cracked any peace you may have been able to gather out here."

Kon rolled his eyes. "I don't know, I think Jon could have managed that enough for the both of us."

And to his delight, Kara laughed loudly at his joke. He was relieved to find that though his meeting with Jor-El was lousy, this first interaction with his family member was turning out well. "So this is an interesting situation you've got here, Kon-El. Clark is sort of your father, right?”

And wasn't that the question that plagued him at times. From the very moment he discovered he was cloned from Superman, he had the impression that the alien was his parent that he longed for so deeply. “I don’t know; it’s all sort of complicated and I haven't asked him what he thinks about it. He’s Jon’s father really, and I’m just his clone that some evil man made without his consent.”

“I think you are just in a bad mood and acting like a pessimist. Martha says you had your first day of school and I know that must have sucked. By the sounds of it though, Clark is your dad too. But if it is something that gives you any pause, you should just ask him about it. I know living with Kal can be..." she paused and looked up at the sky as though she would find the magic adjective traced out in the clouds, "interesting. He’s my baby cousin, but he was also very protective of me for a while, and I used to despise that. He doesn’t even mean anything bad by it, he just feels that need to care for his family weighing on him constantly, especially since we are a severely endangered species and I didn't make things easier by being quick to anger. He’s a softy because he has such a good heart. I’m sure you’ve already seen that though if he’s got you living here. So just ask him about what he is to you. And in the mean time, I get that-the complicated family stuff. It’s really hard.” And when he promoted her with a curious raised eyebrow, she explained. “My father, Zor-El, is a pretty complicated person. We don’t exactly believe in the same things right now.”

“I thought Kal was the only Kryptonian here?”

Kara pinched his cheek harshly, tugging on his skin and wearing a shit-eating grin that Jon must have picked up from her, and she said, “Obviously not, right? You are here after all.” And before Kon could snap back at her, she quickly added, “And you count as one of us aliens. My father is a bit of a corrupt extremist though, and he isn't a great fit here because this planet is already inhabited by a species that isn't... well, isn't us.”

“That is pretty horrible," Kon murmured. "Do you ever feel like you will be like that too, because your father is like that?" Kara shook her head. "I sometimes worry that inevitable badness will come for me because my... other donor isn't great. And if that is in my genetics, I think that means anything is possible for me."

"Kon," she says firmly, eyebrows drawn to the center of her brow. "My father is the one acting on poor qualities, and that does not mean anything is set in stone for me. We are two very different beings, and his actions will never dictate mine. And that rule applies to you equally. Your other donor, as you say, may be evil but you are not. And look at all of these incredible role models that surround you in your own home. Superman and the Kents, they all have strong hearts. And Lois too, she is the very best of this species. Nothing else has to matter. You choose how you act and what you do with your gifts. And I believe you are good too. Whatever you decide to do with your life, I will back you up forever."

Kon couldn't help but smile at that as he thanked her. "I am trying to feel good about being here, but I thought that finally having a home meant actually being home, and not going to school with strangers. It’s a waste of my time that I could spend elsewhere, like helping Superman. And I cannot even use my real name there; it’s insulting having to answer to teachers who know less than I do about every aspect of this world.”

And Kara knew all about the stressors of keeping a secret identity. She explained to him that throughout her time on this earth, she has utilized somewhere between four different names as a part of her secret identity, and that could be overwhelming if she wasn't careful. She shifted between Kara Danvers, Kara Kent, Linda Lang, and Linda Lee Danvers, and though these names sounded different on the tongue compared to her real name, Kara-El, she noted that it didn't mean she was actually required to change herself. "Self discovery is very important for every single developing being, not just teenagers and not just Kryptonians with secret identities. This goes hand-in-hand with being able to decipher yourself without the poisonous input of those that came before you. What matters is what you do for his world and how you leave it. A lot of this can and will feel like playing pretend, but only if you allow that."

"It does feel like pretend. I am pretending at school and in town and around everyone that isn't my family... and Tim." At the admission, Kon felt his face warm slightly, but luckily Kara didn't deem it worth a comment yet.

Instead, she wrapped an arm around his shoulders and declared, “Kon-El, you remind me so much of myself when I first got here, forced to discover the wonders of life. But you will never have to suffer through it alone, and I think I will really enjoy being your cousin." And with a wink, she pulled out her phone and flipped the screen up until a reverse camera showed Kon his and Kara's own faces. She tilted her head toward his and stuck her tongue out. And with a snicker, Kon crossed his eyes and blew out his cheeks until he heard her click the capture button and she pulled her phone back toward her. He leaned closer to get a look at the resulting photo but his heart shuttered as a new screen popped up-this one showed a woman's smiling face. She was beautiful and happy, and she had long brown hair blown across her face from a windy day. And the incoming call, he saw printed across the top of her phone, was from someone named Lena Luthor. He froze.

Kon's chest constricted immediately with fear and he jumped up to his feet, staring at Kara in horrified silence for a moment. His eyes were wide and he felt them threatening to bug right out of his skull. His breath was caught in his throat, unable to move now and release that uncomfortable pressure building in his chest. His mind was reeling as he worried how he had become so comfortable-too comfortable living here and meeting new people, attending school and performing chores. But now, his heart hammered away as he believed Lex's plan of attack had become apparent.

“Kal!” His cry for help spilled from his lips before he could control it, ringing with similar panic as what rose from his skin. Krypto was growling in the back of his throat, searching for the threat that was plaguing Kon as he lowered himself in an attack position.

And as soon as the call left his mouth, the alien was standing beside him, looking between the pair with scrutinizing gaze and reaching out for Kon's shoulder. Kara was watching him with a surprised expression-though she did not appear guilty or frightened, which confused Kon because Superman was standing next to them now and her plan was going to be foiled. “What’s wrong?” Kal asked softly, still looking intently at the one that screamed his name. "What happened here?"

“S-she’s in contact with a Luthor!” Kon yelped in a hurried, choked voice. He was pointing at Kara and taking a step back when realization touched her face.

Kara stood defensively then, brows furrowed and hands planted on her hips in a challenge. "Kon, what the hell? You don't know anything about this situation, and Lena is not her brother." But Kon was shaking his head adamantly. "You cannot base someone solely off their family, and you of all people should be able to comprehend that, right? From what I understand, you are half of that man yourself. So are we supposed to shun you too, Luthor?”

“You told her?” Kon demanded in accusation as he spun toward Kal. His voice rose in pitch and volume as he shrieked, “That is private!”

Kal’s eyes were wide and he was shaking his head as Kara spoke first in a growl, “Clark didn’t tell me anything, brat, but it’s obvious. Even if I couldn’t see Lex’s annoying personality shining through your every pore, we already know that any man with the gall to steal from Superman would be Lex. You’re worried about showing signs of poor genetics? Genius, the story is obvious enough, or did you manage to only inherit his arrogance without the intellect?" Kon's jaw dropped in horror, but Kara was not finished. "So Luthor cloned Supes and added a bit of himself for spice. You know nothing of our quarrels with that man, and you know nothing about his family either.”

Kon felt as though his blood was boiling just beneath his skin, rushing through his veins and leaving lava and flame in its wake. The world around him turned red and Kara's spitting venom was consumed in that crimson color as he knew his eyes were shining with threat.

“Oh please. That’s adorable,” Kara raised her chin in defiance. “Do you even know how to use those?”

With a battle cry that was passionate enough to shake the earth at his feet, powerful fire sprouted from his eyes in a forceful beam directed toward his cousin. Kara dodged it easily and ducked to the side, closing their gap and landing a solid kick to his chest. The breath was expelled from his chest with a loud huff and he squeezed his eyes shut with pain as he fell back from the abuse. He hit the ground as the trio heard a large crash on the receiving end of his heat vision.

“Enough!” Kal-El's voice boomed dangerously, and Kon’s eyes snapped open once again, looking up from his fallen position with a flushed grimace. Kara was standing with feet planted and fists raised, but that angry fire didn’t spread to her face as it had seconds ago, and she appeared equally guilty. Kal stood between the two with arms held out toward them in an attempt to separate in case either had the misjudgment to move again. “Look what you two have done. Someone could have been in there.”

Kon peered around Kal and found several yards away that the top of the barn had a large hole blown through it. Splintered wood littered the grass below and the edges of the wood smoked with flickering embers. And to add more shame to his throbbing chest and misting eyes, he saw Jonathan standing on the front porch of the house, holding Jon tight to his chest and looking up at the barn with a defeated expression.

“Kal, I-” Kon began but he didn’t even know what he was planning on saying next. He hadn’t meant to get so angry and careless, but Kara had compared him so hatefully to Luthor and all sense had the decency to abandon him in the wake of his fury. He still caught himself gazing at his reflection while he brushed his teeth or passed the hallway mirror, searching for any hint of Luthor and then feeling relief when it came up in vain. He feared now that Kara was speaking not based on her defensive spite, but out of her own gatherings when speaking to the clone.

“Are you insane?” Kara hissed at Kon, narrowed gaze burrowed into his skin. "Did you even check to see if Jon was in there before you did that? Or was that just another baseless assumption?"

“He’s scared, Kara," Kal stated hurriedly, sensing another shift in anger between the pair. "He saw the name on your phone and it frightened him. He didn’t mean to disrespect anybody-”

“That’s not my fault,” Kara declared.

“I know,” he emphasized in a strained voice. "But what you said to him after-"

“Clark-” Jonathan spoke in a soft voice but the three heard it, turning their heads toward the man so many yards away. “Come on back now. All of you.”

As Kal and Kara walked back, Kon floated above the grass just behind them to avoid making any sound, but he remained close enough to the ground to avoid Kal’s furious attention. He could feel the alien’s anger rolling off his shoulders and suffocating those around him. Kon knew his telekinesis was shifting based on his anxiety, pushing out and tapping on the two that he followed back to the house. But they purposefully ignored whatever tugs on their capes they felt.

“Kara!” Jon squealed as they approached the house. She offered him an excited smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes, but Jonathan returned the little one to his feet and ushered him back inside the house with a promise that they would all visit together later.

“What happened?” Jonathan asked with a frown, hands planted on his hips and eyebrows furrowed as soon as they heard the front door slam shut behind Jon. His eyes were still on the barn, as well as the rubble below, but somehow even out of the man's powerful gaze, Kon still felt horrible guilt tangle deep in his gut. Kal informed him that there was an accident, and Jonathan hummed. “I see. Well we better get to fixing it now before the sun sets any further.”

“No, Pa.” Kal sighed. “You will not be out there. We will do it.”

“Kon and I can do it,” Kara insisted. “It’s Hot-Head Squared that caused this mess,” she nodded toward Kon, who opened his mouth to snap back that he could fix it all alone.

“Kal, I don’t want her help-” He started in a growled voice, his stubborn pride damning the fact that he didn’t know the first thing about barn reparations. But it hardly mattered because he didn't want to be around someone who looked into him and found something evil, and he definitely didn't want to work with someone who told him about it aloud.

“You will both fix it,” Kal interupted and with the finalized decision, he and Jonathan entered the house through the front door, leaving the other two members of El standing on the porch with Krypto.

Kon was fuming as they flew up to the barn’s roof together to examine the damage. In his fury, he felt his pulse throbbing at his temples and his gut was twisting in response. But behind that turmoil churning in his head, he remembered Lex had warned him he would hurt someone, and he so easily could have hurt someone now. He did not check the barn to make sure it was empty before he directed his laser eyes at Kara. This was nearly a irreversible horror, and Lex already said the clone needed him. The urge to take a shower was difficult to ignore, as was the urge to simply bolt and fly through the sky until his heart rate lowered. But he really did not wish to risk getting in more trouble by running away from the work.

“I’m sorry,” Kara’s voice pulled him from his swarming thoughts and he turned to face her, appearing surprised. He hadn’t expected an apology, especially not when he was the one who had tried to hurt her and destroyed the barn in the process. “I’m not in contact with Lex, I promise. That is his sister that called me-and she’s the person I am most close with. She is nothing like Lex and she would never tell him anything about you even if she knew you were here-which she doesn't and won't. But I’m sorry I frightened you. And I am really sorry about what I said. You don't act like that horrible man, I was just angry and I wanted you to hurt.”

And an apology truly is an interesting thing, because suddenly Kon didn't feel so angry. His head no longer threatened to burst and his pulse had quieted. At the sound of a soft cooing purr, Kon looked over to see an orange tabby cat perched on the roof next to Kara, watching him with a bored glare. He would have assumed a stray somehow managed to jump too high and decided to stay there, but she wore a red collar and a small red cape marked with a gold symbol of hope that matched their own suits. Kara greeted the cat and blew her a kiss before continuing her task of lifting a large plank of wood with ease.

"What, does everybody have a super-pet?" Kon murmured with an eye roll that did not carry bite.

"Not everybody. But it looks like you do," Kara snickered, nodding to Krypto who laid closely to Kon, resting his chin on the clone's thigh whenever he had the chance.

“He’s not mine,” Kon demanded, but he placed a gentle hand on Krypto’s furry head anyway and the dog licked him in appreciation.

“This is Streaky. It was sort of an accident-entirely my fault too-but she was exposed to X-K and now she has a few Kryptonian powers,” Kara explained, running a gentle hand through the cat’s fur. She explained to Kon the interesting properties of X-K and the dangerous experiment with kryptonite she was trying to perform when the accident occurred, and the clone listened with interest.

“You said you are the closest to this... to this Luthor person?” Kon asked slowly, chewing carefully over the name that still caused a terrified tug at his stomach. 

“You can call her Lena. And yes. I’m sure you’ve figured this out already-seeing that you are just as temperamental as I am-but making friends can be... difficult. And meeting Lena really changed my life. She is kind, Kon. And if you think you can separate her from her brother in your mind, I would love for you to meet her some day.”

“Does she know who you really are? Or does she call you by a fake name?”

Kara smiled at the interesting question. “She knew me by a different name for a while, though to be more honest, she knew me just by a different last name. But we became closer and she knows my full name. She knows about me being a Kryptonian and unfortunately, she knows about my father. It was embarrassing and humbling to explain at first, but she never judged me for anything he did. And in return, I have no place to judge her for the sins of her father or brother." And when Kon remained silent in response, she asked, "Does anyone outside of the family know your story?"

He chewed on his cheek and shrugged. "Batman does."

"You know Batman?" Kara's smile flowered. "I know him too-he helped me out a lot while I was becoming accustomed to life here. He and Wonder Woman both helped me a lot. He's a very interesting man. You know, Green Lantern thinks he is a vampire and I sort of see it."

Kon rolled his eyes at that, but realized that maybe not everyone has eaten breakfast and meditated with the man. "Well, Batman knows. And so does Robin." And he didn't understand why, but his cheeks were set aflame when Kara looked at him after that admittance. A shit-eating grin spread across her face and she approached him.

"Oh my god, aw," she cooed harmlessly and pinched his cheek again. "You blush? We don't do that, that must be courtesy of those Luthor genetics." Kon growled at her to shut up and smacked her hand away. "Do you know his story too? Robin's?" And he nodded slowly because though he didn't know much about how he became Robin, he did know his real name. "Well I am sure he will think your ability to blush is adorable; people are such suckers for that stuff. If you like hanging out with him, just ask him to the festival coming up next week." When Kon showed a look of confusion, Kara continued, "It's the annual festival in town called Haybale Bash. These wheat people think its a clever name or whatever, but it's basically a traveling carnival with loads of unhealthy foods and crappy rides. Kids love that shit, there's no way he will turn you down."

They finished fixing the roof in record time, and Kon zipped inside to ask Kal about bringing Tim to the festival, to which the alien responded, "We can pick him up after school if his parents are okay with him being out that evening." And after a short pause, Kal added, "And if you do well in school this next week, grade-wise. But also, if school is difficult, that's okay too. Please just let us know and we can help you. Lois loved math in school and I thought science was pretty fun. So then the festival isn't grade-based, but it is definitely behavior-based."

Kon fought the urge to scoff at that, remembering he hadn't the opportunity to tell Kal how simple he found the content. "You're spiraling, Kal. School was a breeze."

His phone call with Tim that evening was extra eventful because now Kon had school stories to share with him, and Tim loved how Martha bit into the principal within his first twenty minutes enrolled at the school. Just as Tim was summoned for dinner though, Kon quickly spit out, "Heywannacomeovernextweek?"

Tim chuckled softly and asked if Superman and Batman had another outing planned.

"Uh no, there's actually a festival here in town. It'll be small I think-but there will be unhealthy food and crappy rides," he reported, repeating Kara's words from hours prior in hopes that she was right. And to his delight, she was. Tim enthusiastically agreed and promised to talk his parents into allowing him during dinner that same night.

The next week passed by at a sluggish pace. But during this time, Kon was pleased to find that school was improving. His math professor relied on him for the answers each time the classroom became silent due to mass confusion over a problem. And despite his constant complaining about homework at the kitchen table, his grades were perfect. Finally, the end of the following week approached, and a plan was set for Kal and Kon to pick Tim up after school in Gotham.

The pair reached Gotham mere seconds after they took off from the ground of the farm, and they discreetly landed in the shadow of the tall building standing beside a large school that put Smallville High to shame. Tim was waiting for them wearing jeans, a t-shirt, and his backpack. He was bouncing on his toes in anticipation and bounded toward the pair with a smile spread across his face. "Tim, are you sure your parents are okay with you coming?" Kal clarified before he allowed their journey to continue any further.

"Yes," Tim answered shortly, and Kon wondered with a smirk if he was telling the truth. He kind of suspected Batman taught his Robin how to lie to Superman, and Alfred had said he was a liar. When the quiet stretched a hair too long, Tim clarified, "Well, they don't know I am going out of the state, because obviously that would be difficult to explain. But they said it was fine to hang out with my friends tonight."

Kon offered to carry Tim as they flew back to Smallville, but Kal insisted he do it instead with the excuse of, "No need for you to be tired before we even get to the festival." Though they both knew they were still on thin ice from their flying escapade during his stay at the Wayne Manor. And so Kal gently picked up Tim and they shot off into the sky at a speed just fast enough to elicit near-constant giggling from Tim as he was forced to keep his eyes shut from the wind.

Martha was excited to see Tim again, and Jon was cheering for their company as they slipped up the stairs. In the privacy of Kon's room, Tim admitted he brought something for Kon. He unzipped his backpack and pulled out a CD. "Since you don't know anything about music, I made this for you. Now you won't be so confused when you hear it on the radio," he added with a snicker. "Your grandparents seem pretty old school, so I'll bet they still have a CD player somewhere around here."

Kon couldn't help the smile that crept across his lips. "Thank you, Tim." And again, that strange feeling stirred in his stomach and swirled in his mind. His fingers itched to inch forward and wrap around Tim's own hand, and his gaze landed once more on Tim's eyelashes and then down to his lips. Kon could feel the color in his cheeks and the prickling feeling at the back of his neck. But Tim was wearing a goofy grin and looking down at his shoes. So to relieve some of that tug in his chest, he took Tim's hand in his own and pulled him toward his bedroom door because he recalled seeing a CD player in the living room.

The pair sat curled up next to the player in the living room while they listened to the CD. Though he may have been biased, Kon loved every song. Before they finished the list though, Jon announced it was time to leave. Lois drove their truck while Clark sat in the passenger seat, dressed in a flannel and t-shirt, and wearing his fake thick-rimmed glasses that were so similar in shape and use as Kon's. Kon wore a similar outfit, though he kept his glasses in his pocket until he needed to wear them. He sat in the bed of the truck with Tim and Jon, and they watched the fields of wheat roll by on their way to the festival.

The sun was beginning to set by the time they reached the large field on which the festival was set up, which allowed long shadows to be cast across the grass. The small lights strung up around the grounds were bright and twinkling, and it was assisted by the backdrop football stadium lights. The grounds were already filled with loud, laughing people but the sound didn't bother Kon this time as he was focused on the words Tim spoke to him while they crawled out of the back of the truck.

"Alright, Jonny, what do you want to do first-" Kal began, fidgeting with the glasses he wore for his own disguise before the child interrupted him.

"I want to go with Kon," he insisted firmly.

"Jon, you'll be staying with me and dad, okay? We can go over to the-" but Lois was also cut off as Jon repeated himself and claimed once again the desire to go with Kon and his friend rather than his parents.

Kon was mid-eye roll because of the kid's antics when Jon turned toward him, facing him with the widest, most innocent blue eyes, and begging softly, "Kon, please?" And before Kon could fold like the stack of cards he became when Jon acted sweet, Tim nodded and agreed for the pair that he could join them. And that was how Kon discovered that Tim also folded like a wet stack when Jon used his own gift of persuasion.

"You have to stay with them no matter what, Jonathan. No back and forth. If you start throwing a fit, I'll hear you," Clark warned with a ticked eyebrow that offered no room for argument, but Jon just met him with a scrunched nose and a grin. And to everyone's surprise, Jon slipped his hand into Kon's that hung limp at his side. Lois hid her smile and turned away as Clark mumbled about how he hasn't done that in about six months now. "Kon, your glasses. And Jon," he added as he handed Kon a few bills for food and prizes. "Listen to your brother, he is in charge."

Kon pulled the glasses from his pocket with his free hand and slid them over his nose, noticing for a second how Tim watched him with pink cheeks before they all moved toward the entrance. They bought their tickets and entered the festival, but after they took two steps inside, a group of girls spotted Kon. "Conner!" One shouted with excitement, and he recognized them to be Jenna and her friends from school. The girls circled him.

"And who is this?" Stacy cooed, kneeling down to become equal in height to Jon.

"I'm his brother," Jon answered proudly and flashed her his widest grin. "I'm Jon." Kon rolled his eyes as Jon immediately forgot their cover story about being cousins. But luckily, they weren't too interested in the child's answer as they just continued to tell him how cute he was and ruffle his hair while he showed them the cartoon dinosaur on his shirt.

"Conner, it's really wonderful to see you here. I know you might still feel so new to the town, so I wasn't sure you would make it. You can join us if you want," Jenna suggested with a soft smile. "We are all heading to the carousel right now, and it'd be a lot of fun to finally get to hang out with you."

Kon shrugged noncommittally and turned around to talk this decision over with Tim, but when he saw that Tim was standing a few steps away from him now after the girls had forced their way around him, his breath caught in his throat. Tim's gaze was averted and his hands were shoved in the pockets of his jeans. The idea that Tim could possibly feel unwanted in this situation where Kon very much wanted him there was terrifying. He stepped back and pulled Tim close to his side with an arm wrapped around his shoulders, finding it hilarious the way his eyes widened with surprise. Kon politely turned Jenna down, saying, "Thanks, but nah. The three of us were planning on cruising on our own." And he didn't miss the deep blush that spread across Tim's face. At the sight, he sort of understood what Kara had meant when she said people are suckers for that sort of thing.

The girls expressed their disappointment, but they politely wished Kon a wonderful evening before leaving. And the trio's evening began, with Jon walking between the pair and holding their hands. Jon begged for the ferris wheel first, and he demanded to sit between them as they climbed into the small cart. Kon found this one incredibly boring as he could float in the air without the assistance of a cramped cart, but Tim had a large grin painted on his face, and so Kon discovered he could easily be persuaded into enjoying this ride anyway. Between rides, Jon begged Kon to sit on his shoulders until the clone finally relented, and then Jon decided he was feeling hungry. With the bills provided by Kal, and with the backup assistance of Tim's card, they bought hotdogs and corn dogs and ate while they walked around the festival to appreciate the lights. Jon rested the cart for his hotdog in Kon's hair and used his head as a table, which Tim found hilarious.

Kon wasn't sure how the kid could do it, but each time they passed a booth selling food, Jon begged for some. And because of this, Kon and Tim ended up sharing a turkey leg, a bag of popcorn, another hot dog, a churro with chocolate sauce, a pretzel, and a large lemonade until they both felt like they were bursting with fullness. And when they walked by a table selling milkshakes, Jon surprised them by asking for one of those too.

As the sun disappeared beneath the horizon, they rode the carousel, a boat that sways back and forth, and a swinging ride that moved fast. The trio passed a fast-moving ride that held a group of screaming teenagers, and Jon begged to ride that one. But because he had eaten so much food, Kon refused to stop and risk an accident, and so they quickly passed by the end of the line while Jon pouted. While their food was set to digest, Tim suggested they play the games. They came across a game at a booth where a player receives a prize if they can pop three balloons with a pretend dart gun over four tries. Kon tried to play the game, but found he could not pop a single balloon. Tim sat down next. “They rig these," he explained in a dead whisper just present enough for Kon to hear. "So you just need to learn the rig and beat their game." He shot the first soft dart directly at the center of the board of balloons before him. "See how this one is skewed to the left? Just take that distance into account and...” And in rapid succession, he popped three balloons.

"Wow, you are quite the talented little one, huh?" The man behind the desk whistled as he handed Tim a stuffed animal.

Kon hummed and then sat down again. He took a deep breath, picked up the gun and aimed. And as his finger pulled the trigger, he focused on a red balloon in front of him. He conjured the flame in his chest and smirked so slightly as it flooded his fingertips and toes. With that warmth, he found the center of the balloon, and just as the soft dart was about to make its contact, he popped the balloon before waiting to see if it actually made the mark. Tim saw immediately what had happened and he hid his snicker beneath a hand.

"Cheater," he whispered to Kon, and the clone found this entertaining.

He used his telekinesis to pop two more balloons, and he was handed a large elephant stuffed animal. He turned to Tim and teased him over the elephant prize being larger and better than the one Tim won due to that first dead shot where he was solving the puzzle. Jon, however, did not find this amusing, and he crossed his arms over his chest and threatened to tell his father that Kon was cheating. But this was quickly resolved when Kon and Tim both promised all of their winnings to Jon, and suddenly the younger loved their methods of winning. The trio visited four more booths while Kon used his telekinesis and Tim used his wit until they were all carrying nearly more than they could handle.

To Kon's surprise, he was spotted by several people from school-some that he didn't even recognize himself. But they all provided him with a polite pleasantry and then continued walking on their own, as desired, and Tim didn't seem to feel out of place anymore. They each ate another bunch of cotton candy before Jon complained that his legs hurt and he was tired. Because Kon didn't want their evening to end quite yet, he offered the youngest a piggy back ride, which Jon accepted at a speed that could rival his own fastest flight. He bent down while Jon clambered up and he held his stash of prizes between his belly and Kon's back.

As Jon's hands were beyond full (seeing as though Kon and Tim were both stuck carrying stuff for him), the final prize Kon won was specifically for Tim-a small plastic skateboard key chain decorated with large Hawaiian flowers and brightly-colored leaves. And to return the favor, Tim won a stuffed banana wearing sunglasses for Kon. "It says the name is... Brand-ana," he read from the tag. They made eye contact in silence for a moment just before they both snorted out laughter for reasons neither could place. But Kon loved his gift and he hooked the bandana's stuffed arm through his belt loop to avoid it being mixed up in Jon's winnings. Within only a few minutes of walking and soft chatter between the two, Kon felt Jon's cheek against his shoulder and found the child to be asleep. His face was tucked into Kon's neck and his breath smelled sweet from the remnants of cotton candy and chocolate, and Kon enjoyed the pressure against his shoulder blades coming from his little brother.

"I guess we should head back to the truck, right?" Tim suggested in a tone that Kon was pleased to notice sounding disappointed, because he too wished to keep walking around the festival with Tim. And the universe heard them because as they passed the ferris wheel, a man's voice rang out through loud speakers scattered across the field.

"Hey there ladies and gents, are we all having a good night?" He asked in a chipper voice, and Kon winced as the crowd erupted in cheering, hoping Jon was tired enough to stay asleep through the disruption. "I love to hear it! To wrap up this lovely evening, we have some fireworks for everybody! So find yourself another snack and kick back as the sky erupts."

Kon had a donated memory showing fireworks, but it was entirely underwhelming compared to experiencing the view with his own eyes. The circumference of his pupils shrank in shock as a large, popping burst of light filled the sky, accompanied by a soothing crinkling sound and followed by a deep boom. Again, Jon remained asleep, and so Tim and Kon decided to step into the grass and watch the show in appreciative silence. After three more fireworks filled the sky with their interesting shapes and popping sounds, Kon risked a glance at Tim, surprised to find him appearing content but very sleepy as the glossy lens over his eyes reflected back the beautiful sight. There was a finale at the end when several fireworks spread across the black canvas in quick succession, and Kon found he was holding his breath at the resulting booms until there was only a slight sparkling and the erupting sound of clapping and cheering.

After the fireworks ended, leaving behind only a faint smell of flame and a sparkle in the dark sky, Tim and Kon walked back to the truck while Jon remained asleep and riding on Kon's back. They found Kal and Lois waiting there, watching the show from the top of the vehicle. When they saw the boys return, both of their faces broke out into smiles and they hopped down to meet them.

“Jonathan, baby, you are so spoiled,” Kal whispered as he peeled the younger away from Kon. He pressed a kiss to Jon’s cheek and then held the boy close to his chest. As Kal moved to grab the stuffed animals that fell in the process of moving Jon, Kon watched Clark move with feigned clumsiness for show added with the precision necessary to not wake up his child. It was an impressive skill mastered throughout years of practicing pretending to be a normal person. As families walked by and waved goodnight, he accidentally dropped the stuffed dog he held and whistled a loopy, "Whoops." But his hold on Jon never changed, and the boy slept on.

Tim picked up the stuffed dog while Kon threw the rest of the prizes into the truck next to Jon's seat before he and Tim climbed into the back themselves. Once again, Lois drove the truck while Kal sat in the passenger seat with Jon asleep between them. Kon and Tim laid on their backs in the truck bed and looked up at the stars, watching in exhausted silence as they moved under the sky. Tim occasionally pointed out a constellation, and Kon stole glances at his cheeks as they reflected the moonlight. By the time the truck stopped, Tim's eyes were fluttering closed, and he groaned softly when he had to slide out of the truck bed. Kon watched in amusement as Tim stood on wobbling, sleepy legs and held onto the side of the truck for support.

“Tim, you want to stay over tonight, bud?” Kal asked in a whisper, placing a heavy hand on Tim's head to ruffle his hair, but this action nearly resulted in the latter tripping and falling. Kal wrapped that same arm, opposite the one carrying Jon, around Tim and patted his shoulder sympathetically. Lois took one look at the heavy, distant gaze in Tim's eyes and agreed for him, guiding the boys inside.

“Absolutely. It’s too late now for anyone to go anywhere,” she answered. And before Tim could argue or insist that he was fine to go back to his own home tonight, she was leading him upstairs with Kon following shortly behind. “Now honey, we have extra toothbrushes and toothpaste. If you want to change into pajamas, we have some clothes for you to wear. You just get comfy, okay? We can eat breakfast in the morning and then get you back home safely.”

Tim nodded absently, following her directions and brushing his teeth with a borrowed brush before he accepted sweats from the clone to change into. Kon changed into his own pajamas in the bathroom while Tim changed in his room. And within only a few minutes of returning home, they were lying under the covers in Kon's bed, both smelling faintly of peppermint toothpaste and the seashell-shaped soap from the bathroom. Tim hummed in content as his head hit the pillow.

A knock interrupted the quiet and Kon looked up to see Kal standing in the door frame and tapping his knuckles against the wood. “Okay, boys. Did you brush your teeth?" They both nodded. "Tim, tell your parents you are staying at your friend's house so they don't worry, okay? Then both of you, go to bed." And with a wish goodnight, he disappeared into the hall behind a closed door.

Kon watched with a lazy smile as Tim pulled out his phone, still running off the last high of excitement from the night. Tim was gushing about how cool the fireworks were in a slurred voice, and Kon couldn't help but listen in near stupor at the comforting sound of his voice. He was lying so close that he saw without straining when Tim typed on his phone and informed Bruce that he was staying with the Kent's for the night. Within the next few seconds, Tim read Bruce's response and then placed his phone on the floor next to his shoes.

"Tonight was awesome," Tim murmured and Kon smiled largely, staring up at the cieling. He would have to thank Kara for her brilliant idea. "Thank you for inviting me." Kon saw from his peripherals as Tim turned his own head from the cieling and looked at the clone, who then looked back. The pair smiled fondly at one another for a brief second until a huge yawn overcame Tim, cracking his jaw in the process. "Goodnight," Tim slurred.

"Goodnight," Kon whispered back, cheeks flushed and stomach moving with feeling. He felt Tim's warmth seeping into the sheets between them, and he closed his eyes as his dreams beckoned him with the promise of rest. The quiet sounds of Tim's heartbeat sang him to sleep.

His dreams dissipated from the inside of his eyelids when he awoke too early the next morning due to the sound of shrill ringing. His back was turned to the sound and he dug his face further into the pillow in attempt to ignore it and fall back asleep. Kon grunted when the mattress springs whined as Tim moved to grasp at his phone on the floor.

Kon grumbled pathetically as he heard Tim whisper, “Hello-" in a groggy voice through a throat that was still thick with sleep. He had an unfortunate feeling that he wouldn't be able to fall asleep now.

“Where the hell are you?”

Kon froze at the tone he heard. His entire body stiffened with tension and his heartbeat thrummed loudly in his ears. The caller, who Kon assumed was Tim's father, sounded like the most angry person Kon had ever heard in his life-and he had escaped the wrath of a fussing Lex Luthor. He wasn't sure what to do but he felt like he couldn't move even as he felt Tim sit up next to him.

"Abba?" Tim's voice had more than a hint of worry now, no longer sounding sleepy anymore. "What do you mean, I texted you last night. I-"

"You did not, Timothy. Where. The hell. Are you?" The words were emphasized with spite through the crackling speakers in a way that sent shivers of ice traveling up Kon's spine as though an avalanche was harassing each bone. "I will not ask again."

“I’m at Ives’s-"

“Don’t you dare try to lie to me. We spoke to Sebastian's parents, as well as Kevin’s, Leonard’s, and Ben’s. We know you aren’t with any of them. I want your ass home. Now.”

There was a finalizing click, and Kon no longer heard the angry man. He heard Tim’s heart pounding in his chest; the sound was threatening to crack his rib cage in the otherwise quiet house. But then the mattress sounded again and he felt Tim hop out of the bed, stopping only to snatch his shoes. By the time Kon turned around though, Tim was gone. He heard him slipping out of the room with a hurried click of the knob before the sound of feet sprinting down the hallway and toward Kal's room arose.

Kon remained still, halfway sitting up in bed and breath caught in his throat as he heard Tim knock rapidly on Kal’s door before whispering into the wood, “Clark please, I need a ride home.”

“To Bruce’s?” Kal asked as soon as the door opened. He started moving around in his bedroom just after Tim answered his phone call, and now Kon heard Lois quickly moving too.

“No, home,” Tim insisted in a wavering voice, and Kon pushed himself out of bed.

"Okay, it's okay," Kal murmured quickly as Kon floated to his bedroom door to peak out into the hall. "I'll get you there, let's go." And the alien was wrapping his coat around Tim's pajama-clad body even as the younger led him down the stairs with a pulse that continued to beat too rapid. The front door slammed closed and Kon raced to his window just in time to see Kal take off from the farm with Tim held close.

Chapter Text

Kon scuffed his feet across the floor as he made his way slowly back to the bed beside him-a place just previously so warm and comfortable, but now tainted with a taste of guilt and worry in Tim's absence. He crawled under the sheets and listened to Lois's quickened heart beat as she stood in the kitchen downstairs waiting for Kal to return. He listened to Jon's slow pulse from just a room over, cushioned by the deep breathing of one still asleep. He listened for Martha and Jonathan and found they were both in their own room getting ready for the day ahead of them. But he couldn't hear Kal or Tim anymore as they were too far away, and he still had difficulty singling out specific people. He closed his eyes and counted the slow seconds until he reached eleven, and Superman's feet landed on the front porch again, alone this time.

Only an hour after Kal returned home, Kon found himself sitting at the table for breakfast with Kal, Lois, and Jon. The elder Kent’s were unavailable for the meal as they left to go into town. The clone had considered offering to go with them, just as an excuse to occupy his racing mind, but they left before he could conjure the energy to force himself out of his room. Kon slowly dragged his gaze across the occupants of the room now with a blank expression save his sad eyes. He looked at Jon from across the table housing their bowls of cereal, and he frowned because the younger's face was somehow still sticky from the cotton candy he ate the previous night. Jon appeared approximately two seconds away from falling face first into his bowl for an extra snooze, a probable destination only escalating as his mother placated him by rubbing his hair lovingly. But Kon noticed Lois was staring at the table with a complicated look printed across her face, eyes distant and mind also seemingly occupied. Kal was standing by the counter, pouring coffee grounds into the small machine and pressing a few buttons before it came to life.

The room was quiet and the silent air tasted stale in Kon's throat. He had long since pushed his bowl away from him, crossing his arms on the table instead and resting his chin against his folded hands. The only sounds fluttering through the house were the steady tick of the living room clock, the light vrum of the coffee machine, and the occasional klink of Jon’s spoon against the side of his bowl. The small noises created a symphony of background business that only worsened his anxieties, and he tilted his head to the side to press one ear against his arm for mild relief. Kon watched the movement of Jon's spoon with an absent stare, eyes glazed over and pulse rushing. The spoon moved to scoop up soggy sugar, and Jon pulled it up toward his mouth before the effort became Herculean, and he returned the spoon to the ceramic with another jetting sound.

“Kon?” Kal’s voice snapped him from his absent thoughts and the clone blinked up at him in surprise, sitting up straight and realizing now that the alien had been speaking. “I asked you what happened last night. Didn’t Tim text his parents like I said?”

“Clark, you saw how tired he was. We should have made sure he did before going to sleep,” Lois stated softly, trailing her fingers along Jon’s scalp slowly before pulling back and starting again. Kon understood just how exhausted Jon was after his big evening of playing because he didn't even interrupt their conversation to ask what they were talking about.

“He did,” Kon stressed defensively. Since Tim was no longer present to argue his own case, he found it his job to perform it in his absence. “I watched him send the message. And then his dad replied that it was okay before we even went to sleep.” Kon murmured and returned his chin to his arms. But after a fraction of a second, he paused and his eyes widened with realization. “No, wait. He sent a message to Bruce. And Bruce said it was okay.” And even though Kon still wondered if it was all some bullshit prank, apparently Bruce wasn’t Tim’s father.

“Bruce?” Kal asked, bewildered, and the coffee machine beeped. He looked to Lois for help understanding that she didn’t offer before turning to the counter and pouring the aromatic coffee into a cup. He placed the warm mug on the table in front of Lois and faced Kon again. “I told him to ask his parents. Why would he ask Bruce?”

“Oh, Clark...” Lois murmured, appearing pained. Her eyebrows scrunched toward the center and she gently guided Jon toward her so he could rest his head against her shoulder. He followed boneless and his eyes slipped closed.

Kon bit the inside of his cheek. “It’s fine though, right? His dad was not angry, just worried. Right?” Like Bruce had been after they left the Gotham manor in the middle of the night. Worried, not angry.

“Honey, it should be fine,” Lois answered firmly. “Did you all have fun?”

Kon did have fun at the festival. And despite himself, the thought of the previous evening alone brought a smile creeping to the corners of his lips. Even with the company of his younger brother, he felt that his relationship with Tim grew in strength. His mind wandered to the small prize sitting on his dresser that Tim had won for him, and he had to duck his head to avoid the others seeing his blush. After a breakfast that nobody ate, Kal and Kon made their way to the barn for their morning chores. While he collected the eggs and fed the chickens, he tried to listen for Tim from several states away, but he could not find his voice over all of the noises that filled the space between.

He feared he was doomed for a boring weekend until Kara came to visit, arriving on the front porch step with a wide grin and a challenge. Streaky landed right at her heels, chin high and leveling Krypto with an unimpressed eye roll. "Hey there, cuz. I sort of noticed during our little tussle that you haven't had any actual combat training. Right?" Though he hated to admit it, Kara was right. He has had other forms of training in the Fortress with Kal, but he didn't really know how to fight. "Wanna change that?"

Kon hopped up from his seat on the creaky, wooden swing and nodded in agreement. At the movement, Krypto popped up too and stretched. Kon spent the next several hours in the field by the house mimicking Kara's movements as she guided him through different striking styles. Throughout the lessons, Krypto and Streaky playfully tussled with one another before lazily flopping into the grass and watching the show. Out of the bunch, Kon really appreciated the quick movements involved in Krav Maga and when Kara believed he was ready to move on, they shadow boxed and performed mock fights where she moved to attack him with her hands, and he was forced to dodge and apprehended her. Though he was much slower than she was, Kara was kind when she taught him and enthusiastic when he finally landed a hit.

They performed these movements until the sun set, and though they weren't as coordinated together as he remembered Tim and Bruce being in the penthouse when he found them training together, he found a rhythm in fighting Kara. And he was extremely eager to fight alongside her. She promised to return the next day and work on incorporating their strength and powers in a way appropriate for each individual fight. Before she left again, Kon softly admitted to her that taking Tim to the festival was a lot of fun, and he thanked her for the suggestion.

"Any time," she promised with a knowing grin that made him roll his eyes, and then she was gone.

Long after darkness fell across the sky and Jon was sent to bed, Kon tried to call Tim. A loud and annoying tone filled the speaker rather than the usual ringing, and his call was sent to voicemail. The realization that he hadn't heard from Tim all day sat on his tongue with a bitter taste. Kal left hours prior for something he called "League business" and the remaining three adults were already in their own rooms, so Kon decided to go find Tim on his own. He silently slipped his window open and pressed his finger to his lips at Krypto, who watched him in return with lazy interest. The dog raised his head as Kon stepped out of the window, but as instructed he remained on the bed while Kon shot off through the air. He flew to Gotham before realizing he wasn't sure where Tim actually lived when he wasn't with Bruce. And by the sound of this morning's conversation between Tim and his father, Kon had to assume that Tim would be in his own house now. The piercing sound of sirens welcomed him back to the grimy city and agitated shouts filled the spaces in between.

"Good riddance," Kon whispered to himself, remembering Bruce's own words after he had first left the city with his new friends. He didn't particularly like the feeling of Gotham-the stressful tug in his gut was much different in comparison to how relaxed he felt in his own home, but he wished to find Tim. He stopped and listened, shuffling through the intruding sounds.

He listened.

And listened. Until...

“Genug, Timothy. Es ist spät. I hope you’ve learned your lesson.” The gruff voice belonged to an annoyed grown man and Kon perked up in attention at the name to which it was directed.

“I did.” Kon heard the response, and he smiled as Tim's location was confirmed.

“Gut. Now go on to bed.”

“Gute Nacht, Tate. Tut mir leid.”

Kon moved toward the voices he heard as a deep, passive grunt sounded in response to Tim's apology. He came across a large manor resembling Bruce's in size and he paused to listen to the dull clicks of feet climbing stairs. He was surprised to find that not only was the size of the house similar to Bruce's but the location was as well. Though the buildings were far enough from one another to allow privacy, Bruce's house was right next door. Kon nearly considered visiting Bruce and Alfred, but his intentions were halted by the obvious knowledge that Bruce would probably mention his outing to Superman, if he was even home at the time. And though Kon was never specifically told that he wasn't allowed to leave the house at night and go to Gotham, he figured it may have been implied. There was enough for Kon to worry about that the idea of asking for trouble from Superman didn't sound like the best use of his time.

Kon shook the thought away and refocused on his own surroundings-which happened to be the roof of Tim's house. He slowly lowered himself and found that a light was on in an upstairs bedroom and he listened closely to find a thumping heartbeat residing just inside. Another pulse remained closer to the ground, on the first floor, and it was slower in tempo to allow the assumption that it belonged to Tim's father. He silently moved toward the window and peeked in, finding himself relieved that he must have been looking into Tim's room. It was vacant of life though, and Kon's attention was drawn to the brighter light seeping out from underneath a door branching off into another room. Within that room, he heard splashing water smacking into the wall and a soft-humming that echoed throughout the small room, which he knew to be a shower concealed behind a bathroom door. The light scent of soap seeped through the wood and wall, and it was accompanied by the gentle hum of heartbeat that Kon believed to belong to Tim. He was thankful to find that the window latch was unlocked, and he carefully slid the glass up before slipping through.

The floor and the chair by his desk were littered with clothing, both clean and worn based on the occasional appearance of wrinkles. Books and notebooks with pens rested on the floor, table, and bed alike, open to pages suggesting Tim was working on homework. His bed was unmade-similarly to Kon's-and the dark blue comforter was pushed back to show a hint of bright red sheets. Kon trailed his finger across the surface as he passed by it and approached the walls, which interested him the most. They were cluttered with posters for movies, skateboarding, and bands. Pictures that Tim had taken were taped to the walls and filling in the spaces between. Kon found pictures of trees and lakes similar to the ones he had been shown, but he also found pictures of Tim and his friends-all smiling brightly at the camera with squinted eyes and arms wrapped around the other.

Kon felt his own face heat up at the sight of Tim's largest cheesing smile in one picture in particular, where he was sitting on a picnic table outside and holding a helmet close to his chest. Another boy was perched behind him and rested his cheek on Tim's shoulder, caught mid laughing with eyes squeezed shut when the picture was taken. And Kon didn't know how to explain why he wished for pictures like this, where he was lucky enough to be on the receiving end of that sort of smile.

After he finished looking at all of the pictures, Kon could hear that the shower was still running, and he decided to lay down on the bed as he felt both bored and anxious in waiting. The mattress and blankets were incredibly soft, and Kon missed the feeling compared to his loud, springy bed at the farm. He listened to the thumping of a heartbeat from a level down, and traced the person as they moved throughout the house. He also listened to Tim's, and he missed the light humming that Tim stopped doing minutes prior. He rolled his eyes up and watched the cieling fan spin with disinterest when suddenly, and aggressively, the bathroom door was thrown open. Kon glanced at the frame with a cocked eyebrow and immediately had to muffle a snicker through pressed lips as he found Tim standing soaking wet and clad in a towel gripped around his waist. To accent his strange motion, Tim was also holding the toilet lid up in a defensive stance. Tim's eyes landed on the clone after just a split second, and his jaw dropped in surprise. They were both silent as the shower water continued to spit out at the wall from behind Tim, until he lowered the ceramic lid to the floor.

“Kon,” he hissed with absolute surprise, lips still parted.

"Wow, don't you look dangerous?" Kon quipped in a tone drenched with fun. "I'm really terrified."

"Kon," Tim emphasized again before running across his bedroom floor to the door where he pushed in the lock and stood with his back against the wood. “What are you doing here?” He asked with wide eyes, and Kon was pleased to find that he wasn’t annoyed in the slightest. “How did you even find me?”

Kon sat up now, crossing his legs in front of him and leaning over his lap toward Tim. “I haven’t heard from you all day. And after this morning, I was...” worried, his mind offered but he shrugged instead, hoping the truth was obvious enough. “I wanted to make sure everything was okay. And I found you because I came to Gotham and listened for a bit. You live next to Bruce?”

“Convenient, right?” Tim flashed a smirk and peeled away from his door, seemingly satisfied with Kon's answer. Tim absently grabbed articles of clothing scattered across the floor before he stepped back into his bathroom, disappearing behind the door to turn off the shower and change. He reappeared wearing pajama pants, a sweater, and a huffed expression. His eyebrows were drawn and his lower lip was caught between his teeth. “My dad called me this morning, I’m sure half of your house heard that though, and he was really pissed. I feel so stupid about it, but I accidentally texted Bruce instead of him last night-I don’t know how that happened; I guess I was just really tired.” Tim sat down on the bed next to Kon and he stared down at the floor, face red with embarrassment.

Pain flickered across Kon's mind at the thought of Lex's reaction to being really pissed, leaving behind a scorching fear related to the bright green kryptonite and the feeling of fire that it created. His skin burned in the memory, and he fought the urge to place a hand over his chest. Or jump off the bed and shower. “What did he do?”

“Well, I’m grounded now. He took my phone and I had to clean around the house all day. So. Many. Chores,” Tim murmured with an eye roll. “It sucked but our kitchen has never looked cleaner.” Sucked but safe, Kon understood, and he relaxed ever so subtly as Tim continued, “My dad asked where I was, and I couldn’t tell him I was out of state. He’d kill me.” At the phrase, Kon was on alert again, spine erect and moving to fight until Tim quickly explained it was simply an expression. “I didn’t know what to tell him, and he didn’t believe I was at my friend’s house from school because he already called his parents. So when I didn't answer his question, he asked if I was staying at a girl's house last night... and he wouldn't accept anything else, so I finally just told him yes. And now he thinks I have a girlfriend."

Kon felt a frozen stone land in his chest, halting his breath in his throat as frustrating jealously settled in. "A girlfriend?"

Tim nodded, chewing aimlessly at his lower lip with eyes still glued to the carpet. “And he wasn’t nearly as mad at me after I told him yes, so that is...” Tim's sentence trailed away and he shrugged, wringing his fingers in discomfort before whispering, “a relief.”

Kon believed Tim was lying now, as his voice held complicated feelings masked by easy sentences. But regardless, hearing this out loud still stung him. “He wants you to have a girlfriend?” Tim nodded again with an eye roll as though the situation itself could receive his attitude. Kon asked timidly, “Do you have one?”

“No,” Tim answered hurriedly, glancing at Kon for a breath before his eyes darted away again. The clone felt a burst of relief flood over him, tickling at his limbs and lifting the ugly lump from his throat. He was surprised to hear Tim continue, “Do you? I mean those girls at the festival yesterday seemed to like you a lot, which of course they did, you are so funny and-uhm, and you know, they are all really... pretty.” Tim's cheeks and ears were nearly the color of his bed sheets and Kon had to chew on the insides of his cheeks to avoid outright grinning at the sight. He wondered if Tim was also jealous, an idea that brought him relief because it could mean that Tim didn't want Kon to have a girlfriend just as much as Kon didn't want Tim to have one.

“I think they like my hair,” Kon remarked with a smirk when the quiet had stretched far enough. “And maybe the fact that I am new. But no.”

A corner of Tim's mouth ticked up, and his eyes raked up once more to look at Kon. Refreshing relief and giddiness passed the pair as they sat for a few moments longer on the bed. He didn't know how to thank Tim for his compliment that Kon was funny, and based on his responding color, Kon figured it was highly probable that Tim didn't want it to be brought up again. He heard the heartbeat with accompanying footsteps move from one room to another below them, and a television set was turned on.

“Does Batman know that you’re grounded?” Kon asked softly.

“Yes, and now he’s definitely pissed too.” Tim shrugged to feign disinterest, but his eyes were wide and spilled the secret of their regret. “Everyone’s mad, and I should have paid more attention last night.”

“It was just an accident," Kon stated firmly, keeping his voice low to avoid the ears of Tim's father but taut enough to disallow any room for argument. Tim was blaming himself for something that was completely unintentional, and Kon sort of wanted to hug him for it. He thought about comforting Tim like he watched Lois do that morning; but he was hardly able to accept a compliment. He knew there was no way he could force himself to run his hand through Tim's hair. "And besides, I’m not mad at you. I actually had an awesome time.”

"I did too. Thank you for inviting me," Tim responded in earnest. “Was your day exciting, or is sneaking out of your house to come to Gotham the most interesting thing to happen today?"

“My cousin started training me today. She’s teaching me combative skills.” His arms and legs ached from his earlier lessons, but they were merely phantom pains in Tim's presence, and Kon did not wish to pay them any attention. "I will be ready to fight crime with the rest of you very soon."

Tim grinned at this and snapped his head up before jumping off of the bed with excitement. “Kon, I could teach you how to fight.”

“You?” A shit-eating remark flashed across his mind, and he couldn’t help but to say it. Kon sat up high on his knees and challenged, “I’ve seen you fight-at the penthouse, remember? Please refresh my memory, but I’m pretty sure you lost that fight.”

Tim scrunched his nose distastefully, and spat back, “Shut up, asshole.” But similar to usual, there was no bite to his words, only the hint of a grin as wide as the one he wore in that picture on the wall. "We both lost that fight."

Kon smirked, satisfied with the response he got. But when he heard a light noise rise from below him, he cocked his head and listened. “Your pop’s climbing the steps.”

“So then get over here and be silent about it,” Tim breathed and motioned for Kon to rise from the bed and stand next to him. For several minutes, Kon stood silently and mimicked Tim's movement. He recognized the boxing stance immediately and they both threw out soundless, firm jabs, crosses, and hooks. Tim even added a few ducks that Kon found to be fun.

Moving without words passing between the two allowed for Kon's mind and eyes to be drawn back to Tim's features. His eyes were bright as he faced forward and grinned widely, and when he felt Kon looking at him, he turned toward the clone and their eyes connected. Tim bit his lower lip in effort to contain a laugh that was threatening to crawl up his throat, but the motion captured Kon's attention, and his gaze lowered to Tim's lips and-

As his mind was occupied, Kon's next jab contained too much power and the resulting force shook the room. Items on the bookshelf rattled and his bed posts creaked in response as his notebooks flew off the mattress and fell to the floor in a crinkled pile. The structure of the house hissed in retaliation and the window squealed against the blow. Finally, the room succumbed to silence again, and both boys quickly slapped their hands over their mouths to snicker in unison, looking around the room with wide, surprised eyes. Super hearing wasn't required to catch the door fly open from down the hall, and with a startled jump, Tim quickly shoved Kon toward the window of his room. The clone was still muffling laughter as his feet lifted from the carpet and he slipped out of the room without needing to be asked.

“Tim, was ist passiert?” Tim's father called from the hallway in a voice elevated with worry alongside adjacently approaching footsteps. Kon lowered himself outside of the manor, keeping his fingers on the window frame but ducking from view as he heard the man's fast pace.

“Nicht, Tate,” Tim called back, and Kon could hear the amused hiccup in his tone. Kon peeked up and into the room one last time to see Tim waving goodbye to him, wearing a wide grin and biting his lower lip again, though this time in relief rather than amusement. And Kon wasn't expecting the impact for that action to have on him, but he loved to see it. He returned the wave and floated away from the house just as Tim’s father opened the bedroom door. Tim's light voice traveled through the air between them as he heard the apology and lie. “Tut mir leid, I tripped.”

Kon snickered to himself, this time louder as he was already several feet from the house. Far enough that he nearly missed Tim's father's response.

“Clean your room and that won’t happen. Enough mishigas, go to bed.”

Kon was giddy for the rest of the night, awake and rolling in bed with the image of Tim's wide smile plaguing his mind in the best way. The moon's shift in the sky was nearly half over by the time he finally fell asleep and dreamed.

School the following week passed by at a painfully sluggish pace and the days were boring save the time Kon spent training with Kara. By the time the weekend came back around, Kara informed Kon that they were going to answer a call for help together, just as they had been practicing.

Kal-El was worried about Kon's first outing as a superhero with Kara, which was a point that he expressed several times, and as the moment finally arrived, they stood in front of the living room mirror together. Kon was dressed in his El suit equipped with his leather jacket and he was grinning widely. He slipped on the pair of gloves tucked into his jacket pocked, a gift courtesy of his cousin whom he thanked relentlessly since her arrival with the red gloves, and he flexed his hands at the feel.

"You gotta look tough, kid," she informed him and tapped his shoulder. "Maybe this jacket could use some cool spikes, you know?"

“Your jacket already looks great,” Kal confirmed sternly. “Okay, buddy. This is very exciting. But are you sure you don't want me to come along? I can help, you know.”

“No, Clark,” Kara emphasized with a huff before Kon could so much as process the question. “We’ve got this. It’ll be easy and we have been training together every day for a full week now.”

Kon didn’t mind whether or not Kal joined them regardless, and though he wouldn't say it out loud while Kara was so adamant, he sort of thought it would be fun to kick someone's ass with Supes. So he just wore a huge smile as Kal argued back that a full week was not a lot of time at all. Kon turned around and looked at the back of his leather jacket in the mirror, now adorned with the house of El symbol that Martha spent the day before sewing. He felt so excited for the opportunity to finally do this again-it had been several days since the opportunity to help people at Kal's side. And the chance to fight with someone as cool as his cousin Kara was hard not to look forward to. Despite this, his nerves poked at him deep in his belly, acting as a subtle reminder that he could fail this as though it were some school test. But the stakes were so much higher now with lives involved. Kon did not know where they were going, but if people needed their help, then they must be hurting. And he needed to help them.

His telekinesis felt warm in his chest, moving like horses lined up at the gate for a race, and he was ready to fly.

“Do you two want to bring anything for the trip? A sandwich and some water, maybe?” Martha asked, buzzing around the living room, and Lois chuckled into her hand. She wished him luck and walked by Kal, trailing a hand up his forearm before patting his shoulder and leaving the room. Kon got the feeling that she was used to hearing this stuff before, and maybe even thought about how they would eventually say this stuff to Jon before his first outing without his father.

"Kon, please be safe," Kal stressed slowly, turning the clone to face him and placing gentle hands on either side of his face. "Remember what we have practiced at the Fortress; be strong and quick. Use your laser vision if anyone tries to touch you. Let me know when you get there, okay? And let me know if you need me to come and help. Really, you just say the word and I’ll hear you.”

“You are not going to be spying on us,” Kara insisted in a hissed voice. "We will be fine." She grabbed Kon's wrist and yanked him through the kitchen and out of the house as he turned and excitedly waved goodbye to his family.

“Bye Kal, bye Martha!” He called to the two that had remained in the living room with him, both of who were now following them outside. And then they were gone. In just a blink, the pair were soaring together through the cool air. The breeze was light on their faces and Kon stretched his limbs out with a groan. They passed over fields of sunflowers and crops when Kon finally asked, “Where are we going?”

“Hawaii,” Kara answered with a smirk.

Courtesy of the donated memories, Kon saw volcanoes and waves of salty ocean in his mind, and he was excited for this trip. As they flew past the California coast and their view of land was replaced by vast blue, Kon dipped down to run his fingers along the freezing water. The temperature was shocking and he could smell the sodium wafting up into his nose and mouth. Kara met his dip in altitude and trailed her own hands along the surface of the Pacific Ocean. They slowed only partially to watch the dolphins jump over the waves and the birds dive into the water for dinner. The islands came into view just as the second bird flew into the water and splashed Kon, and they quickened their pace.

They landed on the warm beach just as someone yards away screamed out for help. With a short glance toward one another, the pair sped off into the city, dodging building and vehicles until they came across the scene downtown. Standing amid several crushed structures was a man towering high above the trees and lamp posts. He was the color of old rust, appearing as clay and wielding a heavy stone hammer.

"Kara?" Kon whispered softly as they ducked behind a truck. "Who is that?"

And as though the individual could hear his question, he announced in a deep, rumbling voice, "I am Kekona the Demolisher." His low voice sounded like a lawnmower running over gravel, and Kon felt the earth move beneath him in response to the pitch. "Kekona pau hana! Kekona demolish improper work. New building improper work. I make best ways to build."

"What the hell?" Kon asked, head tilted and mouth hung open. He didn't know what to expect upon arrival, but he did not imagine it would be someone who thought humans sucked at building and took it upon themselves to tear everything down.

"Kon," Kara spoke firmly over the sound of another building crumbling. "We are both on crowd control until we get everyone out of here safely, and then we go after the talking stack of Play-Doh. He is leaving the people alone for now, but they are still too close to his destruction. Got it?"

He nodded.

"Kōkua!" The high shriek for help arose from the rubble by the feet of Kekona, and Kon zipped across the sky to find the source. He came across a small, elderly woman lying on her side and shielding her face from the danger. Kon carefully brushed the fingertip of his glove, still damp from the dip into the ocean, against her hand and she peeked through her fingers to look at him. "Kōkua," she repeated softly and Kon saw a small trail of blood seeping out from a cut at her hairline. His telekinesis licked dangerously at his chest at the sight and he stood up with the woman tucked carefully in his arms, turning and facing the clay man.

“Hui!” He called for the clay man's attention, hoping he would cease his destruction when he found out the consequences that befell the people caught around him. Kekona froze and slowly turned toward the sound, blank eyes finding Kon among the crowd of running people. Being under the stony attention didn't bother Kon though as he yelled for the clay man to stop his actions, “Ho’opau!”

But Kekona didn’t stop, he simply reared his bulky arms back and rammed the bottom of his hammer into another building, shattering the structure. Large pieces of concrete fell toward the ground where a group of people laid trapped, forcefully and urgently pulling at their legs under large pieces of rock. Kon groaned with annoyance and he flew the woman in his arms yards away for safety. Without waiting for a response, he zipped back into the action and caught the falling rubble with his telekinesis, pushing up on the stone and throwing the chunks away from their trajectory toward the villagers. With an extra shove, the concrete flew back to Kekona and shattered into pieces against his chest.

A young man positioned under the clone reached out to Kon's ankle, and thanked him through thick lips as he was dazed and rubbing his head, “Mahalo.”

“A’ole pilikia,” Kon accepted politely, kneeling down to remove the large pieces of concrete trapping him in place before lifting him from the ground and flying him to safety as well. He took a few additional seconds to carry several other people away from the dangerous grounds until all of the injured people were free from the wrath of Kekona. Finally, Kon stood by the clay man again and shouted, “Hey, you big lug! Can’t you see that you’re hurting people when you hit the buildings?” He floated up into the air and planted himself in a defensive stance right in front of the clay face. "You're wrecking everything around you!"

“No buildings. Kekona know buildings,” Kekona grumbled, raising his hammer. “Kekona make better.”

“You make better?” Kon asked bewildered, eyebrow raised and head cocked to the side. “Look around you; everything is worse now because you broke it. What’re you supposed to be anyway, an architect?”

“Yes, Kekona build!” He announced enthusiastically and shattered another structure with the blunt end of his hammer while Kon winced at the jarring sound.

“Well, it’s time to face the codes and standards book, because there’s no way your methods follow regulations.” Kon zipped toward him and closed the space between the pair, reaching out to catch the hammer in the next swing. The force Kekona put behind his hammer snatched Kon and he found himself moving quickly with the large object for a few feet before he was able to stop it. Kekona was surprised and his grip loosened a minuscule fraction on the hammer, allowing Kon the perfect opportunity to jerk it from the large clay hand, freeing the metal and awkwardly flying away to dump it on the beach. And just as Kekona was growling in frustration, Kon reappeared at his side and delivered a mighty kick to his chest.

"Leave me, gnat. Go away!" Kekona roared and his stone eyes narrowed as he waved at Kon, smacking the air in front of him before disappearing with a loud pop and leaving the clone staring slack-jawed with wide eyes in his wake. Only a second later, he heard a loud groan from behind him and he turned to find that Kekona had moved just behind the clone. This was a fun trick for the clone to witness. Kon saw Robin disappear from the rooftop during their first race weeks prior, but he knew now that was because the boy was fast. Kon didn't really appreciate that someone could actually teleport yet until he watched it happen then. Kekona was raising his fist high with fury, clay teeth bared in anger.

“Kara, he can-" Kon tried to yell out in warning, but before he could finish his sentence, Kekona's large hand connected with Kon's body and he was hit hard. Kon's vision blanks as his body is flung across the sky until he crashed into the stone of another building, shattering it and tearing it apart with the force. His ears were ringing ruthlessly and the world was blurry around him when he felt Kekona wrap clay fingers around him. Kon tried to pull away from the grasp, but the clutch was relentless and he was thrust in another direction where he blew through three buildings before his body came to another stop.

“Wowza, you’re strong,” Kon choked out as he heard Kekona approach. His hand rested on his heaving chest, and his throat ached with the feeling of dust coating his esophagus.

“New hammer is Superboy,” Kekona rumbled, teleporting again to stop directly next to the clone. He slowly bent down and reached out with his large hand.

Kon scoffed at the threat and he still hated to hear the name that came across as demeaning and annoying. Most pressingly, he had no clue how this being had learned that name. “How the hell did you hear that-?”

But his demand for answers was cut off as thick stone fingers closed around his neck and torso, silencing his words and forcing the air from his lungs. As Kelex had informed him during his first visit to the Fortress, Kon was sturdier than most due to his Kryptonian DNA, and he thanked the universe for that because without the aid he believed he would resemble a squeezed tube of toothpaste in a grip like Kekona's. He tried to wiggle and free his arms as they were pinned to his side, but the movement was fruitless. Kon was desperate for air and his telekinesis was lighting up with flickering flames when Kekona finally threw the clone in another direction. This time he counted crashing through two buildings before he landed on the ground, wheezing softly and reaching out in front of him to protect himself from the clay man he knew would be approaching. He rolled over onto his knees and coughed as a swarm of dust curled around him.

His vision had barely cleared before he felt someone tug at his sleeve, and he jumped at the contact. But when he looked up, he found a little girl gripping onto him and pointing up at stone man with her free hand. "Menehune," she informed him hurriedly.

"This guy is menehune?" he asked in a raspy voice, and she nodded. She reached behind her and pulled out an iron wrench, which she presented to him with wide eyes.

Kon accepted the gift and threw his head to the side to motion for the young child to leave as the horrible footsteps approached.

"Hammer," Kekona called for the clone, and Kon's brows furrowed deeply at the insult, reminded in this unfortunate time of Luthor's own hateful, dehumanizing nicknames for him. Kekona came upon Kon and reached down slowly, already chortling with delight at his own game.

He picked up Kon in a lazier grip now, believing the clone was too weak to fight back this time. With his given opportunity, Kon quickly reared his arm wielding the wrench back before throwing it forward and ramming it into the clay man's chest, surprising both of them as the heavy armor cracked. The large stone eyes raised slowly to meet Kon's own sly gaze. Kekona dropped the clone in his surprise, taking a step back and looking down at the wrench again.

"Mmmm," Kon slurred, sounding slightly concussed even to his own ears. "Iron't you regretting using me as your hammer now?" And Kara appeared in front of him, delivering a blow to the clay man and resulting in him falling to the ground, unconscious and snoring loudly in his forced slumber. Kon snickered at his own pun, and fell back onto the ground with a grunt.

"Kon!" Kara exclaimed, landing on the ground and peering down at him with worry.

"Kara?" Kon heaved, "Where the hell have you been?"

"Taking people to the hospital. They were bleeding and broken; they couldn't be left out there." She placed a few cold fingers on his forehead and he gasped at the relief that alone provided. She wiggled her hands under his armpits and pulled him up from the ground with a grunt. "Kon, we did it, we saved them all. You were brilliant."

“Wasn’t I?” He asked, voice shrilled in excitement and eyes unbelievably wide despite his pounding headache. “Did you hear my joke about the iron?”

“Pure genius!!” Kara squealed. She dragged him out of the crumbled building and they were faced with a large group of cheering people, thanking the pair and peering into the ruble at Kekona.

The journey back to Smallville was exhausting for Kon, and he couldn't wait to crawl into bed and sleep for several hours. But when they arrived on the front porch, Kal was there waiting for them, smiling hugely and practically vibrating on his toes. "Nice work!" He declared with exhilaration, and he wrapped his arms around both of the heroes.

“Clark, were you eavesdropping?” Kara demanded in deadpan, hands on her hips and wearing a frown even as she was being squeezed in a celebratory hug.

“Of course not," Kal stressed and pulled away to ruffle Kon's hair, smiling even as he explained, "because you two were all over the news today. Everyone is loving you both. A few league members are already there helping with the rebuild."

Kon offered to go back and assist in mess he technically helped create, but Kal quickly gripped his shoulders and steered him inside the house, reassuring the younger that he had suffered more than enough. After a quick wave to the rest of the family, Kon retreated into his room and slept for the next twenty-four hours, not even upset about Krypto falling asleep right on his back.

Kon was sitting on the couch the following day, still recovering from his headache while Jon sat on his legs and steered small toy cars up and down the clone's body. Jonathan sat right next to them in the recliner and clicked over to the news where they found a reporter interviewing Superman. Jon grinned at the television when he saw his father, and Kon couldn't help but to join in. They spoke back and forth about the current missions to which the Justice League was answering, and the soft buzzing created a soothing thrum that encouraged Kon's eyelids to close.

"Now tell us about Superboy," the interviewer requested in a bright voice, and Kon's eyes shot open again. "He's your child, right? Or another cousin like Supergirl?"

Kon leaned forward in anticipation to hear Kal's answer, but before he could say anything, another interviewer spoke up and stated, “Superman, Tana Moon here with WGBS. We would like an interview with Superboy. Can you set that up for us?”

Kal chuckled. “I think we are all very excited to see just what this strong, brilliant hero has in store for the future. His family is proud of the work he performed in Hawaii, and we are glad the people are safe once again.”

Kal was proud of him, and Kon hardly noticed how he easily dodged the previous questions asked, specifically the one where they asked for an interview with Kon. He was bursting with excitement at the prospect of being on television because he could be famous. He pulled his legs out from under Jon, who yelped in complaint, and jumped up from the couch to inform Lois of the news. Martha and Jonathan joined the pair in the kitchen as she was congratulating him, and then Kal arrived at the house.

“Kal, they want to interview me!” Kon shouted as though the alien hadn’t been the one directly asked just moments prior. “Can I?”

Kal grimaced in response, and Kon's chest felt frozen. “I don’t know. Being on TV-it’s a lot of pressure. Pressure that is maybe a little unnecessary for us to put on you.”

The clone settled down at once as his request was practically denied. His smile extinguished. “What are you saying?”

Clark struggling. “I’m-“ he glanced at Lois and his parents, who all remained silent. Kon heard the thumping of Kal's heartbeat as he was drowning in his own anticipation. “I'm saying no, Kon. No, you cannot do this interview.”

Kon blinked, stunned. "Okay." He felt everyone's eyes on him, waiting for him to respond to this. To his own surprise as much as his family’s, he was not fuming at the denial. But he could tell by the tug at his eyebrows that he at least looked as hurt as felt. He asked softly, “Well, why not?”

“Because I don’t like how they speak to me or Kara when they ask us questions, and I will not allow them to speak you that way. Either demonizing or condescending us. Sometimes even worse, speaking to and about us inappropriately, like we aren’t real people living amongst them. They act like we are here as trophies for show. It can be very demoralizing, and you don’t deserve that.”

Kon scoffed and shook his head. “I won’t let that stuff bother me. Kal, isn’t it a good thing that they want to talk to me? The more people that know me, the more that will notice if I, oh I don’t know... happen to go missing." He emphasized his bitten point with arms held outstretched. "You know Luthor kidnapped me so easily from the penthouse because Bruce and Tim were basically the only ones who even knew I existed. It was miracle enough that you came to get me. Now the whole world can know about me, and he won’t try to take me again.”

“Luthor was able to kidnap you because you didn’t know how to defend yourself at the time. And we are working on that, right? Learning how to protect yourself and allow others to do the same for you? Like Lois and myself. Like Kara. You have so many people by your side now, along with our Gotham friends, and we will always come to you when you need us.”

Kon crossed his arms over his chest and glowered across the table. He could feel the other occupants shifting uncomfortably as they were forced to listen to the conversation that was blossoming into an argument only on Kon's part, and his breath stuttered in his throat. “So it’s a no then?”

Kal appeared pained, but he nodded firmly. “It’s a no.”

Kon gnawed at the inside of his cheek, gaze averted and glued to the floor under his feet. He felt so disappointed, shame coloring his cheeks and tugging at his stomach as he swallowed the denial that had been fed to him. His throat felt full and left a residual bitter taste in its wake. “Fine.” And feeling everyone's eyes buried into his skin, he turned on his heel and stepped out of the room. Kal called to him gently, but Kon ignored him and walked up the stairs. Krypto followed the clone in solidarity and sat with him on his bed while he scowled in frustration at the wall across from him.

Kara showed up that evening with two glass bottles of cola and a bag of salted peanuts. Kon was still feeling alienated and grouchy, hiding in his room when she arrived, waltzing through the door without knocking. She popped the top off of a bottle and handed it to Kon alongside a handful of peanuts because, "If this little town has taught me anything, it is that you are supposed to put a handful of peanuts into your cola. It adds some pizazz or something." Kon though the entire idea was ludicrous, but he was also just frustrated enough to do it anyway. He did not mention out loud that she was right.

With a little bit of prying, as well as coaxing with the promise of the DVD box set of Wendy the Werewolf Stalker, Kon opened up easily and explained what happened regarding the interview. Kara paused for a moment before stating, "Eh, good for Clark. Look, I know his kind nurturing can be frustrating sometimes, especially while you are trying to find yourself. But in this case, I sort of agree with him. I hate interviews; they are always talking down to me. Asking about my outfit and whether or not I have a boyfriend-it’s horrible. And you are even younger than I am, I cannot imagine what they would ask you. Plus if they got a hold of your genetics, they would never shut up about it. Humans are obsessed with Lex right now and his do-gooder facade, and they would bug you about why you aren't living with him and following in his footsteps until you have no choice but to do just that."

“They won’t know about Luthor,” Kon snapped back haughtily to disguise the terrified shiver that paralyzed his spine and limbs. “Because we aren’t going to tell them, right?”

“Konny,” she stated and Kon had to roll his eyes largely at that unfortunate nickname. He scrunched his nose at her in retaliation before taking a swig of his drink. He still preferred Alfred's tea, but a gift was a gift. "I will never say anything about Luthor. But people could still find out. What will you do if Lex decides to announce it in an attempt to take you back? You are under age, and even though its a bizarre situation, that man could afford the best of the best in court to insist that you go back with him. Everyone will know who you are and they would fight in his favor too." Kon's body was flooded with terror as he had never thought of that possibility before, and in his panic his telekinesis blew out of him in a forceful wave, shaking the room around him. Kara didn't budge, and when Kon's drink slipped from his hand, she reached out and snatched the glass before it hit the mattress. "Kon-El, listen to me. This world is dangerous, and though we would never allow that to happen to you, it is always safer to prepare for the worst possible scenarios. That's how I get through intense situations like this." She shrugged and popped a few peanuts into her mouth. "This interview is a bad idea. Kal is trying to protect you as well as your feelings... and your modesty. There are all sorts of predators in this world. I say trust that and appreciate it.”

By the following morning, Kon had accepted that he would not be interviewed, and Kal stopped him at breakfast and stated with a smile, "Kon, I am so proud of you. I know you don't like my decision about the interview, but you are accepting it very well. Thank you for that." The appreciation felt good to hear, especially in comparison to Luthor calling him childish-and unfortunately, the man was heavy on the clone's mind now.

That week carried on in the same routine as the prior. Chores, school, training, sleep. The tedious day-to-day tasks seemed worse because he did not have the distraction of talking to Tim over the phone as he was still grounded. Brightness was finally found in the middle of the week when Kara returned with interesting news.

"Kon!" Kara started in a high voice, appearing in the living room and startling the occupants with a burst of cool air. Kon was sitting on the floor with his back against the couch as he played with Jon's Game Boy, and Jon sat with Martha on the couch watching a children's show. Kal was away answering the call for another League mission and Lois and Jonathan were both outside working. "Come on, you and I are going to San Fransisco. There's some lunatic terrifying everyone, and it's an emergency."

Before she could complete her next exhale, Kon had disappeared and then reappeared behind her in the kitchen wearing his Superboy suit (though he loathed the name, he didn't have a better one yet). They took off from the house together as Kon waved goodbye to his family. He didn't know how to explain the difference in feeling between this flight and their recent one to Hawaii, but this one held a powerful sense of urgency and left a cloud of panic hanging over him. They arrived in San Fransisco and Kon was surprised to find a tall man clad in red and yellow armor standing on a rooftop high above him, cackling loudly. He shot an eye roll to his cousin at the dramatics, and they flew up to meet the man.

"And who are you?" Kon asked as they approached him, looking around at the ground below to assess the damage he had already caused. Kon found a few vehicles and buildings were on fire, but luckily the emergency fire trucks had responded and he didn't hear anybody trapped inside.

"I am Stinger the mercenary," the man chortled. "And I have come to collect the bounty on your head, Superboy." Kon's eyebrows shot up in surprised, and the man found this to be hilarious. "That's right, boy. You! Didn't think you had a fan club already, huh? Let's have a little fun first. Have you met the Silicon Dragons? We are working together now." And right on cue, Kon heard a scream for help come from below. His head snapped down and he found a group of vicious-appearing people wielding knives and surrounding three pedestrians. "Go ahead and help them, big shot," Stinger nodded to Kara. "I want a little word with your assistant." And at the sound of another scream, Kara zipped down to fight off the gang. Stinger nodded in appreciation and turned back to Kon. "That's perfect. Let's allow my friends to keep yours busy. And in the meantime, do you like to dance?"

Stinger stepped backwards off of the roof, and Kon gasped and shot forward. But he slowed down again when he peered over the edge and found that the man was swinging from a grappling line just like the ones Batman and Robin use. To the clone's complete distaste, Stinger also had explosive rounds tucked in his gauntlets that he fired at the buildings during their chase, only slowing Kon down as he stopped to help move people out of the way. Just like he noticed in the apartment building, the fire still stung his skin and he was unable to push the feeling back with his telekinesis. A shrilly screech drew Kon's gaze back from the woman he assisted and he watching in horror as the Stinger swung low to snatch someone up and then carried them up with the momentum of his grappling line.

And when the pair reached the height of the rooftops, the Stinger dropped them.

Kon's mouth was hung ajar at the sight and he quickly zipped forward to catch the falling person with his arms wrapped tightly around their knees and shoulders. The first woman he caught cried and wrapped her shaking arms around his neck while tucking her own head under his chin. The motion made his eyebrows furrow because these people were terrified. And he wanted to help every single one of them.

He delivered her to the ground and shot back into the air as the Stinger had already dropped two more people. He pushed his own limits of speed until he caught them and returned them to the ground. Finally, he reached the Stinger again and hissed, "Some dance, asshole." He delivered his fist into the covered chest of the man, eyebrows shooting up in surprise and fear when the other only laughed as his armor absorbed everything.

Too slow Kon noticed the man wrapped his opposite grappling line around Kon's arm that still gripped the Stinger's shoulder. "How does this taste?" Stinger asked, and the line came to life with a loud electric pop. Kon didn't even know the lines could be electrocuted, but as soon as the shocks found their way into his body, he gasped and released the man. Pain exploded throughout every limb and he was reminded of the shock to his leg that served as one of his very first memories in his own body. His telekinesis was snuffed away and he plummeted toward the earth as the electricity continued to harass his nerves. He hit the concrete road, just as the scorching pain dissipated, and he sat up slowly with a gasp in awe at the size of the dent he made in the road. Kon slowly raised his gaze again and his mouth hung ajar to see more people falling from the sky. The residual pain was still present, and he stood up on shaking legs just before shooting back off into the sky.

He caught a man and brought him to the ground, then he caught a child and a woman at once and delivered them to the ground. He caught people and delivered them to the ground, roofs, or balconies of buildings depending on the seconds he could spare. He caught four more people before he really got the hang of it, and it all just felt like a game-like a game he would have played at the festival with Tim, but this one was rigged too. The rhythm was tedious. Catch, land, fly. Catch, land, fly.

Catch, land, fly.

He lost count of how many people he saved, and he reached out for the next person, falling to the earth alongside her. His fingertips just brushed against her pant leg, and time seemed to stop as his eyes met hers, wide and green and absolutely begging him for help. And while receiving that look, he couldn't wait to wrap his arms around her and alleviate all of the fear blasting from her eyes. Kon knew about fear and he knew that even if it was lying dormant, it still ate away at any joy or happiness one could find. He was afraid of Lex Luthor coming back, he was afraid of disappointing his family, he was afraid of hurting someone. He was afraid of so many things that sat on his chest with heavy weight and promises of living there for too long. He didn't want anyone to feel the same fear that haunted him, not even the strangers falling from the sky.

Kon wanted to change the whole world and catch every single person that was falling-both literally and figuratively. Kal had caught him during his figurative fall and he finally felt he had the opportunity in his life to pay that debt forward.

He was just about to close his hand around her calf to slow down the fall when he felt the taut line wrap around his own ankle and he was yanked both backward and upwards with impossible force. Kon's face morphed into horror as the fabric of the victim's pants slipped past his pointer finger, catching for the briefest moment on his fingernail. Too late he snapped his hand closed, but he only clutched at the cold whistling air. And then he watched as she fell all of the way to the concrete road below.

The scream started in his toes, burning with fire as it traveled up his ankles and legs, warming his body despite the goosebumps that decorated his skin beneath the suit. That foreign warmth poured into his torso and ate away at his own blanket of telekinesis, consuming it and demolishing it, and leaving in its wake horror and fury. It ran over his spine already impossibly erect with tension. It seeped into his arms and throat, choking him until it was all he knew.

And finally, it was released in a wretched sound that filled the sky. He didn't see when Kara's head snapped toward him and the sound of her calling his name was that of a ghost.

Stinger reeled his catch in until he was holding Kon upright and by the front of his suit, crinkling the symbol for hope like it meant nothing. And in that moment, Kon feared that was the case. He felt weak in the aftermath of his outburst, held against his will now in the clutches of Stinger, who wrapped a menacing hand around his chin and directed his head down and to his left.

"Look who else you missed," he hissed and held the clone's head firmly in place to watch as another body hit the ground, and Kon felt large tears roll down his cheeks. "Uh-oh look, there's more," Stinger sang out and turned Kon's head in the other direction to see a few more people laid sprawled in the road below them. "And now I am going to blow up this bridge and kill so many more. Not as super as they say you are, huh?"

Kon's world had long-since bled red, burning with threat as the fire boiled in his sockets. With fury ignited, his eyes came to life and a sharp burning beam hit their target at Stinger's helmet. Kon's arm shot up and his fists found their home around the neck of the armor, and he squeezed as his teeth grit and his eyes stung.

But the man's armor was too thick and he just choked out a gurgled laugh before wrapping his own grappling line around Kon's exposed throat. In a low voice, Stinger warned, "I can electrocute you. You don't think I can strangle you too? That bounty only calls for your head; it doesn't have to be attached to life." And then Kon's air was cut off as the line tightened. Stinger sent waves of electricity through the taut wire until Kon's hands slipped off of the man's neck with surprise and flew to his own, and he pulled and scratched in desperation at the cord. He was no longer the reason he was flying, suspended in air now and suffering waves of spasms while choking only because the Stinger was holding him there.

"Too easy," Kon heard the man snicker as his vision blurred and dark clouds filled in the peripheral spaces.

Kon realized with dissatisfaction that he may have been dying just then. Even when he occasionally had tough skin like Kal, mostly in the Fortress, they all still needed oxygen and his supply had been cut off. He blinked rapidly now with a burst of fear, and his hands were fumbling with the man's gauntlet now, but the electricity and strangulation weakened his movements.

Just before his eyelids slipped shut, Kara arrived and delivered an almighty blow to the man's helmet, one that couldn't be fully absorbed by the armor. The Stinger screamed and his grappling line slipped from Kon's throat, releasing him from the hold and allowing the flow of air. The clone began to fall to the earth in sick mockery of those he couldn't help. He felt strong arms wrap around his body and he was pulled close to Kara, stopping his fall and alleviating that fear of falling. He couldn't help the panicked and croaking sob that slipped from his lips, and Kara held him tighter. She landed on the ground with Kon, who had begun panting in his attempt to tell her about the people who fell.

His vision blurred again, despite having access to plenty of oxygen, and he fell down to his knees in an attempt to alleviate the stress of standing on his body, but he was tense and rigid on the ground. Kara appeared kneeling next to him, and she rested her hand against his cheek. "Kon, I am going to clean up here. You should go home now. You can meet with Kal when he comes back; he will want to hear from you. Can you make it home or do I need to take you?"

He didn't have the energy required to answer or argue, and so he nodded once sluggish and small. His toes lifted from the earth and his head felt heavy as he flew away, much slower than his usual and silent in his movements. If asked, he really did think he was heading back home to the farm. He even wanted to lay down with Krypto sitting on his chest and just fall asleep. But when he blinked, he found himself in the snowy tundra.

And before he could think better of it, he entered the Fortress of Solitude, snatched the crystals from their safe keeping, and placed them into the scanner.

The body of Jor-El appeared in front of him, and Kon blinked. "Kon-El," he rumbled in greeting.

“Sup, Gramps," Kon hissed, voice wrecked from the tight cord sitting just previously around his throat. "I’ve discovered myself just like you wanted, and I couldn’t wait to tell you what I found.” His chest was swelling with anger. Anger at Jor-El and Stinger and even at Kara though he knew it was misplaced. But he was mostly angry with himself. He didn’t wish to know the meaning of failure on such a level that someone lost their life. He didn’t even know her name or if she had a family or friends. If she was in school or traveling around the world. He didn’t know anything about her. He didn't know anything about any of those people. “I’m a failure.”

Jor-El leveled him with a complicated gaze, determining his own opinion before stating with finality. “Kon-El you are not a failure. I presume something happened in the world?”

Kon wanted to scoff and roll his eyes-because of course something happened in the world. Too much happened in the world, and the overwhelming belief that he should have stopped it from becoming pounded away at his chest. Before he knew it, he sunk down to his knees before the image of his grandfather, and he lowered his head to the chilled floor with a soft, frustrated huff. And he explained himself.

Jor-El waited in silence for the clone to deliver the story, speaking only when Kon had finished. “I see. This world you are living in is difficult, and the life you lead promises complications. But you have a good name, and I was close with the one whose name you were given. He was brave too. Keep searching for yourself, Kon-El. And then come back to me. Until then, be safe and be good.”

And his image vanished.

Kon's mind was still reeling, and he couldn't focus on the words he had just been told. Speaking to Jor-El didn't seem real, and neither did standing in his surroundings. The only thing that did scream true in his mind were the resulting images of the bodies in the street. He folded his legs in front of him and tried to meditate, desperate for a change in mindset, but he couldn't. Every time his eyes slipped shut, he saw the woman's face begging for help just before her small shred of hope was ripped from her when Kon was yanked back.

Traveling home was a blur, as was the small talk he was forced to perform before he could lock his door and hide away from his family.

Kon laid in his bed and stared at the cieling long after the sun dropped below the horizon, feeling the threat of vomit sitting in his throat. The clock ticked aggressively a floor under him and Jonathan's snoring peeped through the walls. Finally, and with racing thoughts contradicting his fuzzy mind, he slipped out of the house and flew to Gotham City, relieved to find Tim's bedroom light was on. The window was unlocked again and Kon wrapped his fingers around the lower latch and raised the window while he peered in, finding Tim lying on his bed, reading a book. He was only clad in a long sleeve t-shirt, boxers, and socks, obviously not planning on receiving company or doing anything else for the rest of the night. He met Kon with a raised eyebrow and a spoon sticking out of his mouth as Kon crawled into his room. A half-empty fruit cup rested on the bedside table.

“Kon?” Tim asked in a low voice, even as a smile spread across his face. He sat up in bed and pulled the spoon from his lips, drawing the clone’s attention there once more. But Kon couldn’t focus on the motion and he still had a crawling itch to move.

“Come on,” Kon whispered hurriedly, chest tight and anxious as though the world was ending. As though he were the one that had fallen to the earth.

Or Tim.

He stepped up to the end of the bed in two wide strides, wrapped an impatient hand around Tim’s ankle when he just stayed still, and gave him a firm yank, relishing with relief at the giggle that spilled from Tim’s mouth. He didn’t know it was possible at the moment but some of that weight buried deep in his gut alleviated in response to the sound.

Just not enough.

“Wait, where are we going?” Tim asked, eyes wide with interest.

“Anywhere,” Kon scooped him up, pulling him up from the bed with an arm under his knees and another at his shoulder blades. He didn’t pause as Tim yelped in honest surprise at the motion, wrapping his arms around Kon’s neck in response. The clone lifted from the carpet and sped out the window into the night. 

They flew high in the sky and over the ocean. Tim kept his forehead tucked under under Kon's chin, and the clone glanced down to find his eyes were wide as he stared out at the water below them. Kon continued to fly until he spotted the Hallgrímskirkja Parish Church, and he approached it with slower motions. He landed on the tall pinnacle roof, planting his heels in the divots of the roof and lowered himself down to sit. He carefully placed Tim next to him, who immediately scooted closer to Kon and latched onto his arm with a death grip. Kon couldn't help but smile at their closeness, regardless how lost he felt at the moment. The warm yellow lights far below them were glowing dimly and cast shadows across the snowy field.

“Where are we?” Tim whispered in the dead silent air, wide eyes glued to the ground so far below. “Oh my god. How high up are we?”

“Reykjavik, Iceland.” Kon paused, thinking and examining the structure on which he sat. "Two hundred forty four feet. Look up though.”

Tim did look up, and what he saw left him breathless. In the dark sky he saw glimmering blue and green stretching out with wispy fingers and dancing across his view. The northern lights were vivid that night, accented only by the small stars littered across space and the warm yellow reaching up from the ground below them. The colors were free from the pollution and interference from people, and the pair were alone in the most comfortable way. Tim's mouth was ajar and his eyes were impossibly wide.

"Kon," Tim breathed, amazed. He was completely enthralled in the view, but Kon noticed he was shivering, and the clone finally appreciated that he had done something pretty horrible-dragging someone in their pajamas out into the snowy weather of Iceland. A pointing guilt stabbed at his stomach as he saw the raised bumps scattered along Tim's arms and legs. Kon gently pulled Tim's arms from his own so he could slide off his leather jacket, which he then draped over Tim's shoulders. He appeared stunned as Kon helped guide Tim's arms through the sleeves. He ignored Tim's half-hearted protests as he pulled off his boots and slipped them over Tim's socks.

"Thank you," Tim whispered, now studying Kon who nodded once and looked away out at the thick layers of snow littering the ground. "Did something happen?" he asked, sounding heavy in the crisp air.

Kon nodded slowly. He didn’t want to talk about what happened, he didn’t even want to acknowledge that something did happen ever again, and he certainly didn't feel better after confiding in Jor-El about the accident. But he sort of wanted Tim to know what happened. He didn’t wish to admit it, but he craved to be told that everything would be okay in light of his failure. And further more, he trusted Tim.

"Did you watch the news?" Kon asked.

"No. I'm still grounded, so no TV."

“Well, I messed up today. I, uhm-" And a thick, wet clump burrowed its way into his throat, halting his words and making him shift uncomfortably. He inhaled a shaking breath and carefully recalled his day. "My cousin and I, we went to San Fransisco because someone was attacking the people there. And it turns out, he was there just to draw me in and kill me. And he was... he was playing this game where he dropped people out of the sky, and I had to catch them. But then he stopped me before I could catch someone. And they-" he felt large tears roll down his cheeks, mortifying himself further as he cried. Tim rested his hand gently on Kon's shoulder, a movement that was slow enough to allow him the opportunity to dodge it if he wanted. But Kon didn't want to dodge the touch, and he turned toward Tim and wrapped his arms around his torso for a hug. He could feel Tim startle and tense up in response just for a moment, before he settled in a hugged Kon back. "I keep seeing them on the ground. All of them."

The air between them was silent for a full minute before Tim spoke up in a soft voice, words slightly muffled in Kon's shoulder. “I didn’t want any of this-to become Robin, I mean. I never really did. But Bruce needed it. He needed someone to be with him on the streets and keep him from being so...” he paused as they pulled apart, and Kon found Tim's eyes were distant as he recalled some unknown memory, “rough. But I volunteered to be that for him. And there was this one time-a night that I think of a lot. Do you want to hear about it?" Kon did. "I was in a bank, trying to stop some middle-of-the-night robbery, and it should have been easy. So I was poking fun at the guys doing it-you know, distracting them and whatnot while Batman took out the head honcho guy in the vault. And they had guns. I didn't know someone was behind me. There wasn't anyone there when I looked just a few seconds earlier, but parents always say their kids move fast. We just don't really believe it until we witness it ourselves. And these guys were shooting at me, but I dodged the bullets and even laughed because their shot was horrible. Then I heard him scream behind me, and I just couldn't think anymore. Someone had run across the bank floor, probably looking for his parents, and th-the... they shot him. He was just a kid too, way younger than me. I did what I could and called who I could, but he looked so pale and there was so much blood. And I found out that night that he died in the ambulance. I don't think Bruce wanted me to know about it, he never gave me an answer when I asked, but I already knew based on that. He had a funeral just a few days alter, and it was on the news. His parents just wept the entire time; they couldn't even speak. And that bullet was meant for me. But a little kid took it instead. And for a full week after that, Bruce wouldn't even look at me."

"That wasn't your fault, Tim."

"And this one isn't yours."

Kon bit at the inside of his cheek and furrowed his eyebrows because that didn’t seem right to him. He believed he could have done better and should have done better. That woman had faith in him that he would catch her. When he wore the suit with the symbol of hope on his chest, he felt he had a responsibility to actually succeed.

“But it still sucks,” Tim added, and Kon agreed.

"I am so sorry I brought you out here," Kon stood up, bending over to pick up Tim again without waiting for a response. "It's freezing and you are in your underwear."

Tim's face flushed deep and his eyes fell down away from Kon's. "These lights are amazing though. Maybe we can come back when I have my camera? And maybe a coat," he murmured with a sly grin, and Kon snickered. The clone asked how Tim wanted to be carried back to his house, embarrassed thinking about how he just grabbed him without warning and dragged him high into the sky. Kon had tried not to scare Tim again after the confusion in the penthouse-something that seemed so long ago now. But here he was, standing in the wake of his mistakes of forcing Tim to go on an anxiety-induced flight with him. But a smirk settled in the corner of his mouth when Tim's face turned even more red in response, and he murmured with a gaze still averted, "Uhm, that last way was nice."

And Kon was happy to oblige, because he liked that the best too. So he bent down and lifted Tim from the roof in gentle, strong arms, holding him close to his chest.

Tim was still shivering when they reached the Drake house, and Kon slipped through the window. The clock on his dresser read three in the morning and the house was silent save the steady sounds of someone else sleeping in another room. Tim kicked off Kon's boots by the window in a hurry to crawl under the heavy blankets for warmth. Kon stood awkwardly by the window, prepared to depart when Tim shot an impatient look his way and ticked his head toward the other direction-toward the inside of the room, Kon realized.

"Come on," Tim mouthed. "I'm cold."

And who was Kon to deny that request? Especially since he was the one that dragged Tim out of his room in his underwear. So with a grin, Kon moved forward and slipped between the sheets. Tim moved closer to him, for warmth, Kon knew, but his heart thumped abrasively in his chest anyway. He could feel every single change in his own chest as his lungs swelled up with air and nerves. The butterflies were back once more, performing swan dives in his stomach and making a fuss. Tim was still shivering though, body wracking with spasms that traveled through the bedposts and Kon gripped him by the leather jacket that he still wore and tugged him even closer.

Kon's eyes slipped over to Tim, seeing only a mess of dark hair now as Tim's head was tucked down with his temple resting on Kon's shoulder. The feeling of inadequacy was still sour on his tongue, ever fresh after his battle with the Stinger. He knew now that Tim also felt this way, and he loathed the very though that any memory could be troubling someone as wonderful as the person lying next to him. And though he sort of trusted Bruce Wayne and his abilities as a fighter, Kon shuttered to think that someone was trying to shoot at him. "Tim," he whispered softly and the other raised his head to look at him with a smile. "You are my favorite person."

Tim ducked his head again but not before Kon saw his growing grin and a light patch of pink spread from his cheeks to his ears. "Good, 'cause you might owe me some NyQuil tomorrow," he quipped and raised his head back up to look at Kon.

"I have no idea what that is," Kon murmured back passively, gaze seemingly distant and words slurred as he was transfixed by Tim. His eyes lowered to Tim's smile again, lingering on his lips with something that he recognized as longing. Kon could no longer feign innocence and confusion now, lying in bed next to Tim and staring at his mouth. He had plenty of donated memories, and several were even related to this. And though he had never actually kissed someone before in his own body, he understood the tug in his stomach to do so. He just wanted to-

Kon lunged his head forward the short distance between the pair as his head was cleared of the suffocating guilt that he failed earlier that day; he no longer thought of Kal-El being disappointed or Jor-El's confusing speeches. He wasn't thinking of the fact that he left Kara there to clean up the bodies or the Kents at home to worry about where he went. He wasn't thinking of Bruce next door or Tim's father only feet away. He was only thinking of Tim.

And then Kon stopped himself as his nose was only half an inch from Tim's, heart stuttering and breath held as he realized what he almost did.

Tim looked surprised and confused, pupils blown wide and lips parted. His face was just as red as his sheets now as his breath was stuttered too. But there was not even a hint of anger in his voice as he asked curiously, “What’re you doing?”

Kon pulled his head back with a snap and painted on the goofiest grin he could find, "Just checking your temperature since you can't stop complaining about the cold." And there was Luthor's horrible voice, reminding him once again that he was scared and using humor to hide. But this realization only quickened the delivery of his words. "And I can feel your fever radiating off of ya. Now stop yapping and go to sleep, and I promise I will bring you NyQuil in the morning, whatever that is."

And though Kon could feel his heart hammering away the entire time resembling a street performer, he saw the disappointment flash across Tim's face as he shuffled back down into the blankets and rested his head beside Kon's upper arm. Kon was relieved to find that within the next several minutes, Tim finally fell asleep and the soft thrum of rhythmic breathing radiated throughout the room. Kon slipped out of the bed, and stopped to appreciate Tim still wearing the clone's jacket. He wanted to pretend he didn't know why he loved to see that, but he knew.

He was careful to remain silent as he slipped into his boots and lifted from the ground, moving around the bed to turn off the bedroom light, and then returning to the window again. Kon managed to exit the room silently, though closing the window took finessing. He didn't know when he would have the opportunity to return to Tim, but he did like the idea of bringing back NyQuil for the complainer, a thought that made him smile. He turned from the window and his skin chilled immediately as he found Superman there, staring at him and hovering about the ground. Waiting and leveling the clone with a ticked eyebrow and a frown. Kon was frozen and desperate as the alien opened his mouth and spoke.

“We need to talk.”

Chapter Text

Kon gulped loudly, eyes wide and face flushed a deep red. Kal leveled him with an almighty parental gaze and crooked his pointer finger at the clone, silently summoning him closer. He approached slowly, dragging his heavy feet through the sky. At his side, Kal jerked his head to the side and Kon followed the movement disguising a demand. They flew away from the house with thick silence hanging in the air between them. Kon wrung his hands out nervously as he wondered just how much of his time with Tim was witnessed by Kal. It took all of his strength not to outright groan at the thought of Kal seeing Kon lean in so close to Tim. The idea was humiliating, but Kon also knew there were more pressing matters at hand.

“You aren’t going to tell his father, right?” Kon finally asked, remembering with worry the man’s furious tone when he had called Tim and woken the pair up from their slumber. Kal sighed deeply but didn't respond, so Kon hurriedly added, “Kal, please, he’s already grounded. His father doesn’t need to know, and we were very safe. I carried him exactly like you did.”

Kal stopped in their travel and turned to face his clone sharply, who stuttered nervously to a stop next to him. “He’s not my child. And though his parents should know where he is so late at night, I understand that telling them would jeopardize not only you two but Bruce and myself as well.” Kon ducked his head in shame. He wasn't intentionally misbehaving by sneaking Tim out of his room at night, he just needed to be around someone at the time. Kal examined the younger’s face and rubbed his own fingers against the bridge of his nose with quiet frustration. “Listen to me. This is completely irresponsible.”

“Kal-" Kon tried, voice small and eyes filled with pleading, but the alien continued.

“I thought you would have learned and understood after the first time you did this-that just hearing it was wrong from Bruce would be good enough. But maybe I should have actually explained it to you too, Kon, that you cannot do stuff like this. Under any circumstances.”

“Dad-" Kon tried again with a grin, hoping the near-foreign title from his lips would stop the alien in his rant, but the efforts were fruitless.

“You are both children, and you still have so much to learn about this world before you can make decisions like that. His parents deserve to know where he is and they deserve to trust that he is in his bed at night, safe and home.” Kon fell quiet, worrying at his lower lip until Kal sighed again and ran a hand through his own hair. “Where did you two go?”

Kon grimaced at the question. “You really don’t want to know that answer. It was out of the city.”

“Out of the state?” Kal asked, and Kon’s head fell. “Don’t you tell me out of the country, too.”

“I wasn’t going to tell you anything,” Kon tried lightly with a small chuckle, but Kal’s frown deepened, and the clone sobered as his cheeks reddened. “I’m really sorry. Are you...” his throat tightened as he choked around the next word, “mad at me?”

But Kal didn’t answer his question. His piercing gaze fell upon Kon and he ordered, “Come. We are having this discussion at the Fortress where we can sit down and be alone.” They were already alone in the sky, free from the presence of a bird or place, but Kon kept his mouth snapped shut about that. The last thing he needed right now was to poke this metaphorical bear. Without needing to summon the clone, Kal turned around and shot off to the tundra with Kon flying just at his heels.

They didn’t circle the globe or race for fun this time, but simply reached the Arctic in the blink of an eye and stopped. Kon bit the inside of his cheek as his boots touched the snow just moments after Kal’s, and he slowed his pace to allow for more space between the pair. Alongside the nerves crawling through his insides, the windy chills brushed against him uncomfortably, ruffling his hair and kissing his cheeks. And Kon despised it then, crossing his arms over his chest and wishing for his leather jacket to provide comfort against his upcoming chastising. They entered the structure-feeling cold now without the warmth of Kal’s smile leading him inside.

Kal walked with wide strides right into the main room housing the panel he had used to speak with Jor-El and Kon wondered if he may be in trouble for more than just taking Tim from Gotham in the middle of the night. He felt Kal stop at the center of the room and turn toward him, and Kon shuffled away, feigning intense interest in the wall.

“Have a seat.” 

Kon forced his eyes up as he turned and found Kal gesturing towards a bare table with chairs. He approached with dragging feet and sat down with a slump in the stool, huffing out a fragile breath. Kal sat down across from him silently, brows furrowed and hands crossed before him on the table. The clone gnawed at the inside of his cheek and watched carefully, waiting.

It felt like hours passed them by, though Kon understood realistically it was only seconds, until Kal finally began. “I know you visited the Fortress yesterday. And I don’t mind for you to come here alone-I hope you know that. I want you to find a home and a bond to this place just as I have.”

Kon’s eyebrow shot up and he tilted his head to the side as he asked, “Wait, this isn’t about Tim?”

“Oh, we will absolutely be getting to that very soon,” Kal stated plainly and Kon’s cheeks flushed as his mouth snapped shut. “But right now, we are talking about the Fortress; I love that you want to come here, and I also don’t mind that you spoke to Jor-El when you came here alone. But Kon, I need to know about this stuff beforehand. Finding out about it afterward does not count as you telling me.”

“I didn’t know I had to tell you,” Kon snapped with a scowl. He knew his sudden burst of anger was coming from his unresolved feelings regarding the previous day's struggle with the Stinger-an irritation that subtly grew throughout the hours until it was pushing out at his chest and palms, and he could no longer hold it back. After the dam cracked and it spewed out, his spitting fury consumed his half of the conversation. “Why do you have to know about it anyway? I didn’t mess anything up and I’m not a baby-I’m not going to break those crystals.”

Kal seemed to notice his change in demeanor immediately, which only frustrated Kon more, and his voice softened in tone but remained just as firm as it had been. “I know you didn’t mess anything up and I trust that you wouldn’t. But this isn’t about that.”

“So what then? You don’t want me to embarrass you by talking to your father without your presence? You need to monitor everything I say to him?”

“Kon, that is not-”

“My name isn’t even Kon, Supes. Don’t you remember? It’s Thirteen," he seethed as the horrible title came out between clenched teeth. His anger was palpable and he could feel the tremors in his shoulders. "And if you don’t want me around, then I don’t want your stupid pity name.” His belly twisted in spite as he spat this aloud. Kon knew he was lying, and his own mind was screaming at him to take it back, but he felt so angry and he wanted to test Kel; he wanted to see how much the alien would take before snapping back or agreeing with him.

“Do not say that, you know it isn’t true.”

“I know you are embarrassed by me,” Kon demanded with a glare. “You were too embarrassed for me to do an interview with the people from television even though you and Kara do interviews all of the time. You were too embarrassed to claim me as anything but some cousin for your hick hometown-"

“Conner-“ Kal stressed.

“Embarrassed to stand up to your own father the first time I came here to meet him and he was an asshole. Just admit it, that’s probably the only reason you’re so pissed about me going to Gotham tonight-you don’t want me to embarrass you in front of your League buddies.”

“I am not embarrassed by you, and I am not mad at you. We’ve already discussed why we had to tell people you are my cousin, I thought you understood it doesn’t mean anything. It isn’t because I didn’t want people to think you are my child.”

“Oh sure,” Kon seethed, his jaw tight and creaking under the pressure he applied. “And that’s also the reason you don’t want me out of the house at night, correct?”

“Okay, you want to talk about tonight right now?" Kal asked with a fresh frown. "We can do that. I’m completely disappointed in you. It’s so late and you took Tim from his home while he’s already in trouble, how did any of that seem like a good idea? You left the country with someone without telling any adult involved in either of your lives-you so easily could have hurt him.”

And there was Luthor’s voice again, returned to his head and hissing about how the clone was a danger to people around him. The horrible man promised that Kon needed his help before he could accidentally hurt someone, and he loathed to hear the implication come from Kal. If Kal thought this too, Kon worried maybe Lex wouldn’t even need his fancy lawyers to take his science experiment back home with him. Kon scowled darkly, mind spinning. His temper was set aflame and he hissed, “You know Luthor initially created me to replace you, right? To be the next Superman. Why would he do that if he thought I was going to hurt someone?”

Kal sighed and shook his head. “This is not about Lex Luthor. This is about you and me.”

“It’s always about Lex Luthor,” Kon growled under his breath before pointing an aggressive finger at the alien and challenging, “And you know what, Kal? He absolutely sucked but at least he acted like he wanted me.”

“I do want you.” Kal took a slow, deep breath and Kon thought he finally had him-finally made the alien pissed enough to crack. But to his surprise, Kal leveled him with the most pitiful gaze Kon had ever seen. “I am so sorry you feel that way, and I am so sorry for everything that I have done to make you feel that way. I think you are incredible, and I do want you in my life.”

“Then why didn’t you want me to be here alone with Jor-El?" He shouted, pointing to the panel without turning. "You said you wanted me to feel like I’m home here but I can’t even talk to someone that is supposedly my family. It doesn’t make sense.”

“You’re right, and I should explain myself. After what he said to you the last time-I didn’t want you to be alone after another conversation with him. He can come across as cold on accident-it’s all artificial communication. I cannot dictate what he says to you, and it isn’t fair for you to feel small or unsure about yourself and then be all alone afterward when I could and should be here with you.”

Kon was stunned silent and a warmth fluttered through his chest, creating a tug at his heart that radiated throughout his abdomen. His fury extinguished instantly with a wave of remorse for his words, and his gaze fell. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat before lifting his eyes to softly apologize, and he hoped Kal knew his words included everything he had previous said. "I'm really sorry."

“You do not have to be sorry, Kon. I am sorry this has not come across correctly. I am not mad at you. We just need to set some rules together. I’m sorry I didn’t make them clear from the very beginning, this is all so new to me. I’ve never had a teenager before.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and Kon tilted his head to the side again. He supposed this was all foreign to the alien. Jon was only six years old, and he certainly wasn’t sneaking out at night and flying across the ocean. “A big one directly pertinent to tonight: no more sneaking out after bedtime.” Kon’s lower lip stuck out in an involuntary pout and Kal bit down on the insides of his cheeks to refrain from smiling, but Kon saw anyway. “I’m serious. Especially on school nights, I want you going to bed at 10 o’clock unless we have specifically allowed you to go out. Got it?”

“Kal!” Kon’s jaw dropped. Ten in the evening sounded ridiculously early-though he knew his hesitancy over the time could partially be because the current hour was inching toward sunrise, and he didn’t feel sleepy at all. “So I’m trapped in the house at night?”

“You have a curfew, yes. It’s for your protection and it’s a part of having a normal life." Kon grumbled angrily and crossed his arms over his chest, drawing a small chuckle from Kal. "If you want to argue it, you can join Jon for his bedtime. You want 10 o’clock or 7:30?” Kal was bluffing, and Kon knew it based on that persistent muffled grin. But he scowled anyway and muttered that he would take the later time. “Next rule. No more sneaking anyone else out of their bedrooms. No more flying around with Tim without permission from me. And possibly Bruce. Okay?”

Kon lowered his gaze at that with fresh embarrassment, but he nodded in agreement.

“And if you are leaving the country, please tell me. Even if it’s for a mission with Kara. Actually, especially if it's for a mission with Kara. Even if you are leaving the state, I want to know about that beforehand.” He paused and waited for Kon to reluctantly agree. “The next rule is that I am always proud of you.”

Kon snorted and rolled his eyes at the cheesy line that he secretly loved to hear. “That isn’t a rule.”

“It’s a rule for me,” the alien countered, and Kon fell silent. “And it’s a promise for you. I know things may be difficult sometimes while we both still learn how to trust each other, but we are in this together.”

“Of course I trust you, Kal,” Kon murmured with a half-hearted shrug.

“You don’t. But that isn’t your fault; the two of us knowing one another is still very new and you haven’t had the opportunity to form that trust yet.” Before Kon could open his mouth and argue, Kal raised an eyebrow and added, “Remember how not that long ago, you assumed I told both Jor-El and Kara about your relation to Luthor?”

Kon’s brow furrowed and he held his arms out in exasperation. “Well how else was I supposed to think they knew?”

“I never expected you to discount me as someone that told them. I never even promised you that I would keep it a secret, and I am sorry for that. But Kon, listen to me. I will keep everything a secret that you wish of me. I know you don’t want people to know about Lex, and I will never tell a soul. You have my word.”

He felt that ricochet across his skin and he stared blankly. “Thank you.” He worried at his bottom lip then, gaze fallen and breath caught in his throat until Kal encouraged him to share the thoughts that plagued his mind. “I don’t know what you are to me,” Kon finally admitted in a soft, airy voice. “I know what Jon is to me because he calls himself my brother. I know what Martha and Jonathan are to me because they called themselves my grandparents. Plus they insist on me calling them ‘ma’ and ‘pa.’ Even Lois called me her child.”

Kal appeared pained, listening silently and waiting for Kon to finished.

“At first I thought you were my parent. And then it got weird when Luthor said I was supposed to replace you. But you act like my parent anyway. Except, you don’t tell anyone. I just don’t know what you are to me.”

Kal was nodding, and when it was confirmed that Kon was finished, he stated. “I’m sorry I haven’t made my intentions or thoughts very clear. I didn’t want to intrude on you so strongly, and I know neither my parents nor Jon have that same level of subtlety or hesitancy. I want you to be comfortable in our family, but I didn’t want to overstep where I wasn’t welcome or didn’t belong. Our situation is so unique, and it certainly isn’t bad, but I don’t want you to feel unsettled. I know that mutual trust can go a long way.”

“But Kal, I already do trust you,” Kon emphasized again softly.

“You were just made, only a month or so ago. You don’t have the actual experience of being held as a baby, and the trust that is built during that time, it isn’t based on memory alone. And you may have those donated memories of someone trusting someone else, but I couldn't assume that was enough for you to actually want me involved in your life as a parent.”

“I already know about oxytocin,” the clone responded haughtily. “That is what you are talking about when you mention being held as a baby. I already know about that hormone, but you don’t have to be a baby or start as one to get oxytocin relief and form trust with another person. Developed people have that too, from other stuff.” He added nearly silent, “Like hugging.”

“Kon, do you like hugging?”

He shrugged emphatically on one side and dropped his gaze, feeling embarrassed now as he admitted, “I guess. I mean, don’t you?” He thought back to the hugs he had received so far, and they all felt comfortable and warm. They were way better than simply pressing hands together-though that had served him well as his first personal form of communication.

“As a matter of fact. I really do.” Kal arose from his stool and sidestepped to move around the table. Kon groaned dramatically but he didn’t push away as Kal wrapped his arms around the clone and pulled him in tight for a hug. Kon finally wrapped his arms back around Kal and patted his back with a chuckle before the alien pulled away. Kal sat down in the stool next to Kon this time, and Kon moved closer in response. “Kon, I want you to tell me what you want me to be to you. You’ve been forced through so many situations and relationships so soon into your life, with Lex and school and honestly, myself and my family. If you don’t want Jon to be your brother or my parents to be your grandparents, and if you don’t want me to be someone to you, I need to know. You do get a say in this." Kon gnawed on the inside of his cheeks silently. He definitely didn't want to be the one to say he wanted Kal to be his parent-not if that isn't what the alien wanted too. His silence was enough to probe Kal into asking, "Want me to go first?” And the clone nodded. Kal smiled gently and stated, “I love you and I am so happy to have you living with me as a part of my family. I think of you as my son, just like Jon, and of myself as your father. If that makes you unhappy, or if you’d rather something else, we can absolutely discuss that.”

Kon blinked, stunned. He didn't realize how confusing things have become lately, with Kal's frequent absence while saving the universe and hearing the way people talk about Clark Kent-his famous cousin-at school. He knew from the beginning what he wanted-a family. And his excitement in hearing that Superman was his Kryptonian DNA donor had not really faltered, especially at the opportunity to meet him. Very slowly, he nodded and admitted, “I want that.”

And it was decided that Kon was Kal’s son in both of their eyes, and they embraced in a hug once more.

“Now, I think we have something else that is very important to discuss," Kal stated in a gentle voice when they pulled apart again. "I spoke to Kara yesterday."

Kon's gaze fell as a new flush of shame fell over him regarding his failures. “Okay, so then she already told you everything?”

“Not everything,” he murmured. “I got back late tonight and she was waiting for me at the Hall of Justice. She said I needed to find you. I just didn’t imagine I’d find you in Gotham rather than your own room.”

Kon opened his mouth to argue back, but he surprised both himself and Kal when nothing came out, and so he paused and waited for several seconds before admitting, “It was...” horrific, disgusting, incomprehensible. The adjectives his brain provided weren't enough to describe how he felt when he watched the bodies hit the concrete. “I didn’t want to be alone,” he finally explained. “Afterward, I mean. I thought I did, and I went to my room. But my head felt like it was going to explode and I didn’t want to be alone anymore.”

He feared Kal was going to remind him that he was in a house with four other people at the time who would have all loved to be with him-and that didn’t even include Kara. But to his surprise, Kal gently stated, “You aren’t alone right now. Please tell me what happened.”

And for the third time in merely twenty-four hours, Kon recited the events of his battle with the Stinger. Kal listened quietly, though when Kon retold the first witnessed casualty, the alien wrapped a warm, protective hand over Kon’s and gave it a small squeeze for comfort. Kon heard the moment his voice slipped during the retelling, but he continued even as the misting of tears pooled in his eyes. He fell silent at the end of the recapture, and he buried his face in his hands with the onslaught of horrible guilt.

Kal was quiet for several minutes, rubbing the clone's back and allowing him a moment of silence before he stated, “Those people you saved, they are alive to go home to their families all because of you.”

“That doesn’t matter. It wasn’t enough and I’m talking about the-”

“It does matter. It matters to the people you saved, and it matters to me." Kal carefully brushed Kon's hair away from his forehead and encouraged the clone to look up. "I am so sorry you we’re forced to witness something so cruel. You did so much good; you have a strong heart.”

Kon shuffled under the praise, eyes flickering to the side and chewing on his lower lip. “I haven’t seen that before-not even in the memories he gave me,” he whispered, pointing up to his temple. “I understand it plenty. I know that bodies stop working and when that happens, the person is no longer here. But I haven’t seen death before. Especially not like that. It was... terrible.” To his excruciating horror, his voice cracked over the last word. He wiped an impatient hand across his face, but Kal gently reached toward him and held that hand too until he faced the alien. Tears continued to prickle uncomfortably at his eyes and he closed them to avoid further embarrassment.

“Death is a terrible thing to witness,” Kal whispered, rubbing comforting circles on the back of Kon’s hands with his thumb. “I am so sorry I wasn’t there for you. I should have heard you. I am sorry, Kon-El.”

The tears finally streamed down his face, leaving tracks on his cheeks and pooling at the curve of his jaw before falling to his shoulders. Kal slowly guided him into a hug, moving at a speed to ensure Kon the opportunity to pull away. But the clone only fell forward into his arms and allowed himself to be wrapped up in the comfortable hold of Superman while he cried quietly.

After several minutes had passed, filled with the hitched breaths of the clone while the alien murmured niceties into his hair, Kon pulled back and wiped his sleeve across his face, scrubbing at his red-rimmed eyes. As stars burst behind his eyelids, another thought dawned on Kon. “There’s one more thing you should know." The alien hummed, and Kon picked at his fingernails. “The man that murdered those people-the Stinger-he said there was a bounty on me. Someone wants me dead. Do you think Lex hired him to kill me because I won’t go back to the lab with him?”

Kal’s brow furrowed deeply and a frown decorated his face. “No. I don’t think he would." But Kon wasn't convinced, so Kal added, "But I will go ask him, okay? I will be right back.”

With the blink of an eye, Superman was gone. Kon huffed and slid off the stool to lay down on his back with arms spread out wide and eyes slipping shut. His mind was swimming now-because Kal looked at him like his son and he wasn’t disappointed in Kon’s failure in San Fransisco. The Fortress felt warmer and the crystals reflected the comfortable light now, and he felt he could breathe again.

He had just become settled when Kal returned with a frosty burst of air hugging his back. He bent in front of Kon to heave the clone up to his feet with hands cupped under his armpits.

“Hey, bud,” Kal smiled and he turned back to move toward the table. “It wasn’t Lex.”

Kon’s jaw dropped and his eyes widened. “How do you know? You were gone for like... five seconds! What did he say?” Kal didn’t respond yet, and his clone jumped forward and trailed directly behind him, hovering close and pressing right into his personal space. “Kal, what happened?”

“I asked if he sent someone after you, and he laughed in my face. He told me you were too...” He suddenly appeared uncomfortable and he tried again. “Lex told me you were too... valuable.”

Kon leveled him with an unimpressed gaze because Kal’s statement even sounded like a question in his ears. “Lex said 'expensive,' didn’t he?” 

Kal grimaced, confirming the clone’s suspicions. “I don’t like that you know that. Anyway, he didn’t do it. Tell me again about Hawaii, and maybe we can find someone who would want to threaten you.” Kon retold the experience, and in his story, they determined nothing felt out of place in the people with whom he interacted. “I’m afraid we may need to ask around about this, run it by some members of the League and see if they've heard anything.”

“We need a detective?” Kon asked with a wide grin, nodding in agreement to his own question and wrapping an eager hand around Kal’s wrist. “Let’s go get Bruce. He will figure it out.”

With persistent pleading and persuasion, Kal agreed for the pair to travel to Gotham. They flew to the Wayne manor as the rising sun met them with soft orange and light blues touching the horizon, where they slipped inside through the main floor window and floated through the house, toes hovering just above the carpet. They listened for the thunking sound of heartbeats. Kon heard three and he could only guess which one belonged to Ace. He was just about to suggest they split up to investigate the opposite sides of the house from which the sounds arose, but Kal ticked his head and led Kon to the library. He silently pushed the door open and they found Bruce in a large reclining chair by the lit fireplace. His head was propped up by this arm and his eyelids were fluttering slowly. Kal approached noiselessly until he stood next to the man’s chair, wearing a sad frown.

“Bruce,” Kal whispered, and the man grunted apathetically from his chair for just a brief moment until his eyes snapped wide open and he shot up with his spine erect.

He quickly scanned the room and only relaxed a fraction after noting that his intruders were friends rather than a threat. 

“Sorry I frightened you,” Kal whispered with a small smile. “We need your help. A man calling himself the Stinger was sent to murder Kon.” 

“Yes, I watch the news,” Bruce grunted and Kon wanted to cover his face and hide. He hated that Batman saw his apparent-televised failure. “And you didn’t frighten me.”

“Someone hired the bounty hunter. We need to find out who made that call, and we thought you could help us.”

Bruce studied Kon as he shifted nervously, pulling at his curly hair and tucking it back behind his ear. “It’s not Lex,” the clone spoke softly, before frowning and squinting his eyes as an idea dawned on him. “Wait, do you think Lex would have sent the Stinger after me just to prove that I still need to live with him? Maybe he knew that he wouldn't kill me, and it was all staged just to show the lawyers that he has to protect me?”

“What lawyers? Lex doesn’t have proof, because you do not need to live with him. Ever.” Kal emphasized.

“But he’s rich, couldn’t he find a way to force me there if he wanted to make me?”

“Absolutely not.”

Kon huffed. “But if the lawyers say it’s the law then-”

“Kon-El, listen to me. Their law means nothing. You do not belong to that man. If this was some ruse to convince people I am incapable of caring for you, there isn’t a force in this universe that could stop me.”

Bruce watched them with a scrutinizing gaze before promising, “I’ll look into it.”

Bruce stood up from his chair and led the pair through a secret entrance hidden by the library's grandfather clock, a sight causing Kon’s jaw to drop with surprise. They descended down a long set of winding stairs into a dark, vast open area. Kon wrinkled his nose at the stench of dampness hinting at mold growing in secret deep in the crevices. But the smell hardly mattered because the large room was cool. Kon lifted from the steps at the sight of a giant coin pressed against the wall, and he slid by the pair behind which he previous walked to get a better look. He brushed his fingers across the ridges decorating the top of the penny and he pressed his hand to the outline of a bearded man facing profile. The smell of zinc and copper were bitter in the air, fighting one another for prominence as he tasted it on his tongue.

“Bruce, why is this here?” He asked with obvious excitement in his voice, turning to face the man but keeping a hand pressed against the cooled object.

“It makes a pretty good shield,” the man admitted with an invisible smile.

Kon then approached the next large item-a card housing the grinning face of the deck’s Joker. He gawked at the large paper, and pressed both hands against the colorful jester’s hat. “And this?”

“I’m excellent at poker.”

Bruce's response was awarded a giggle from the clone and a sigh from Kal. But then Kon faced the coolest thing he had ever seen. A giant Tyrannosaurus Rex stood frozen on the lower platform, reaching in height all of the way up to the main entrance in which they came. The green beast had its mouth open wide to display tooth and tongue, and the glass eyes were yellow and vicious. Sharp claws protruded from the hands and feet, and a long winding tail wrapped around the bottom level of the cave.

“And this?” Kon asked in a squeak, and without turning, he heard a small laugh coming from Bruce. He remembered Tim told him about the dinosaur in the bat cave, but he had no idea it would be this big.

“It is cool.”

“Damn right, it's cool!” Kon shouted with a wild laugh and he hovered next to the large mouth before wrapping his arms around the dinosaur’s nose and resting his cheek on the scaly texture. Still hovering next to the face, he turned to find Bruce and Kal had stopped at a platform housing a large computer.

He glanced around the room at the other small artifacts that decorated the dimly lit cave. When he looked down, he found several platforms below him rested a large pool lit up bright blue and illuminating the entire cave.

“Bruce,” he stressed with pleading. “Can I swim?”

At the man’s taut nod, Kon flung himself into the deep water below, diving in with hands tucked together above his head.

The frigid water enveloped him in one swift wave and after the smallest second of a spine-tickling sensation, Kon’s eyes snapped open, casting a blurred, blue environment across his vision. That horrible memory of the cold liquid gel solution in Luthor’s basement bombarded his mind like an exploding bomb. He thought of the heavy lightness he felt floating in the containment and the sticking sensation it left on his skin. He mostly remembered the sense of helplessness, and it made him want to scream.

With an uncomfortable cry building in his throat, Kon shot back out of the water, panting harshly and landing on the nearest ledge so he could sit on solid flooring and regain his breath. He pressed his knees to his chest and bent his head down to watch the water below. Drops of water fell form his hair and forehead, landing on the cold concrete underneath him with a small plink. His heavy breathing calmed again and he sheepishly looked up to find Kal watching him from a few stories up. Kon flashed a crooked grin that he hoped was convincing.

“Too soon,” Kon admitted in a bashful voice, and he shivered. “I swear I’m okay.” 

Kal frowned and nodded, but to Kon's relief, he didn’t press further. To dispel that unwanted anxiety that brought tightness to his chest, Kon stood on wobbly legs, shook the water from his limbs, and flew back up to the dinosaur’s head where he sat down comfortably far away from the pool of water. He listened quietly as Bruce and Kal whispered to one another.

“How was patrol last night?” The alien asked, and Bruce grunted noncommittally while he typed on the keyboard. “Quiet I bet, without your partner.” Bruce was silently scrolling now. “Did he tell you what happened?”

“He’s grounded,” Bruce stated shortly.

“Sure. I told him to let his parents know that he was staying over at a friend’s house that weekend of the festival. And I guess his father never got the memo.” Bruce’s fingers faltered and Kon watched the conversation closely from his elevated vantage point. Kal was leaning closer. “Did you happen to get a message that night?”

Kon thought this was interesting. He already told Kal that Tim accidentally texted Bruce, and he even told the alien that Bruce responded confirming that he received the message. If it weren’t for the sly smirk Kal wore as he tiptoed closer to Bruce’s turned back, Kon would have believed that the alien was confused and forgot the story. But Kal was teasing him. Kon muffled a snicker even though he didn’t fully understand the joke, and he flopped down on the dinosaur's head.

“What’s your point, Clark?” Bruce asked in a voice meant for sharpness, but he really just sounded baffled.

Kal shrugged and flashed a dopey grin as he leaned against the desk next to Bruce. “Just trying to fit the pieces together.”

Bruce made a point of ignoring him in favor of turning to the clone. “We will find the person behind this, Kon-El. I promise. I have my best woman on it.”

And Kon’s eyes snapped wide at the sound of a snicker coming from an earpiece he didn’t even see in Bruce’s ear until then. Alfred ducked his head through the door and announced for everyone to come upstairs for breakfast-a meal he insisted their two visitors stay for as well. They sat around the table over a plate of pancakes and bacon that Kal praised heavily to Alfred. Bruce's cheeks were pale at the sight of a new day as the sun was fully streaming in through the window, and the bags under his eyes darkened. Kal took that as a sign to depart with wishes for his friend to rest, and Kon waved goodbye.

The pair stepped out into the sun together, and Kon asked with a grin, "So, can I go see Tim now? It's not the middle of the night anymore and I left my jacket there."

Kal sputtered out a surprised and exhausted laugh. “No, Kon. You absolutely cannot. He’s grounded, remember?”

“So grounded means no friends?” He asked haughtily.

“Grounded means no fun, phone...” Kal stepped closer and wrapped his thumb and forefinger around the clone’s chin, emphasizing with a subtle smirk, “and no flying.”

Kon scowled. “So boring.” And they shot off the ground with a destination for Smallville.

Per Kal’s request, Kon remained home for the rest of the day, where he worked in the barn with Jonathan, played scrabble with Lois, and went on a walk with Martha and Jon. His mind swam with images of the horrors he witnessed the previous day, as well as his long conversation with Kal-El, but Kal recommended he continue to spend time around them. Just before dinner, Kon found himself sitting on the porch swing with Jonathan-both quietly staring out at the orange sun hanging low in the sky. While Jonathan sipped from his coke bottle, he looked over to see Kon balancing his own drink on top of his head.

"Do you want to talk about what happened?" Jonathan asked softly, as though that meant Kal couldn't hear them from his place inside with the rest of the family.

"No," Kon snapped immediately, from habit rather than actual answer. The man nodded understandingly, and Kon was frustrated to find that his willingness made him want to talk to Jonathan. And so he told him about the Stinger and the terrible images that were constantly haunting his mind. He plucked the bottle from his head and balanced it on his fingers as he spoke, allowing himself the small distraction during the painful recollection. Jonathan listened to his story, and when he finished, the man wrapped an arm around the clone and pulled him closer. Kon rested his head against the man's shoulder and allowed himself to be held until Martha called them for dinner.

When his head hit the pillow that night he realized just how long he had been awake, and exhaustion pulled at his heavy eyelids. The burning images of death smoldered angrily behind his eyelids, and he snapped them open in fear each time they closed. He tossed and turned relentlessly, covering his face with his pillow and then lying opposite with his feet propped up on the headboard. But he was unsuccessful. With an aggravated huff, his head turned to the side where he found the stuffed banana staring back at him through the cotton sunglasses-his gift Tim won for him at the festival. He hopped out of bed and retrieved the gift, placing it on the edge of the bed with him and staring at it with a frown as though Brand-ana was the very reason he was unable to fall asleep. His intense gaze and concentration didn't allow him the opportunity for preparation of the knock that startled him off the bed.

He didn't expect to find Jon on the other side of his door because the youngest only begged to sleep in his room a few times due to his earlier bedtime. But there he stood, blanket dragging on the floor and dinosaur pajama pants on display. Jon appeared so frazzled already, his hair stuck up in odd directions and he wore a large frown like he had just woken up from a bad dream. Kon understood that and without forcing his brother to ask, Kon guided him in and tucked him in under the covers next to him. He didn't need to admit it out loud as Jon's eyes were already fluttering closed, but he believed he could possibly benefit from company that night.

And he finally slept.

He visited Kara the following morning. Kal showed him the way and then left to run errands in Metropolis as Clark Kent, leaving the two cousins to talk about their previous match together. Before stepping up to her apartment door, Kon gulped heavily and shuffled his feet, afraid of facing another person who could possibly blame him for the deaths he couldn't stop. But he raised a shaking fist and lightly tapped it against the door. There was a quickly scuffle inside before the door swung open and Kara faced him, wearing her pajamas with a large fluffy robe over them. Her hair was just as messy as Jon's was the previous night, and Kon had to bite down on his lower lip to refrain from making this comment.

"Kon!" Kara jumped forward and wrapped her arms tightly around him. "Are you okay?" She pulled back and cupped his face with warm hands before dragging him inside by his face. "I am so sorry, I didn't know how horrible that man would be-I lef us right into a trap that was set for you. I should have moved slower with you, and we shouldn't have gone-"

"Kara, I am sorry. I appreciate you bringing me along and I failed," Kon begged, cheeks flushing under her palms at the implication that she was at fault when he was the one who-

"No, Conner," she stressed, shaking her head and pulling him into another hug. "I will not hear this. I feared you were putting this blame on yourself and I have been begged Clark to let me come talk to you-but he said yesterday you all were trying to relax so I had to wait until today, and then-"

Kon wore a hesitant smile as Kara continued to ramble on. He was relieved as he didn't know it was possible for someone present at the battle to believe that Kon was not at fault, and hearing that brought air back into his lungs. He walked around her apartment as she continued to speak to him in a rushed voice, her words tripping over one another in an effort to get out of her mouth. At the short pause for breath, he turned to her and smirked.

"Where did you get that?" He asked, pointing at her robe. It looked exactly like the fluffy towels from the Wayne manor, except this one was wearable.

Kara blinked, startled at the sudden switch in conversation and the interest in her clothing. "My robe? I don't know-somewhere in the mall or something." She looked into his face for a moment before a smile spread across her own lips. "Why? You like it?" He nodded hurriedly and declared that he wanted one too. "Good thing Christmas is coming up, then."

He ignored that as he had no intention of waiting for the holidays to find one, and he absently wondered if Kal would allow them to bring Tim to the mall to look for the comfortable robes. Kon ran his finger across her kitchen table and poked his head in each cabinet. Streaky jumped up on the refrigerator to watch him with something akin to a sneer. He simply made a face back, and continued his examination. They sat together on the living room couches until her phone alarm rang signalling her to get ready for work. She offered to call in, but Kon was ready to go back home anyway. She changed in her room while Kon fumbled through her bathroom supplies until he found something that brought a gasp to his lips.

"I'm taking this," He reported, clicking his tongue and winking as he held up the bottle of NyQuil for her to see when she stuck her head out of her bedroom door.

"Conner, wait, that isn't mine!" She called back, but it was too late as he had already strolled out of the front door with a wave.

He was looking for an excuse to get his jacket back (and see Tim again), and he knew Kal could hardly argue with medication-delivery as a reasonable excuse. He arrived at the Drake manor in a few seconds after he determined where he was in relation to Smallville, and he was discouraged to find no life inside the house. But he slipped into the bedroom and replaced the bottle of NyQuil with his leather jacket resting on the bed.

Kon's recent trauma promised him free from school for the week, which the clone celebrated eagerly. But he found himself bored and lounging around the house for the rest of the day. Everyone was working or learning, besides his grandparents who kept him busy with board games and funny movies. Though he wanted to complain for the sake of dramatics, he loved the time spent with them. And to his surprise, Kal approached him the following night and stated the pair were to fly to Gotham City for information.

Superman led Kon to an alley in Gotham, and they came across the batmobile that Kon remembered riding during his first night out of Lex's laboratory. They stood by the car in silence before Kon felt the sudden presence of a looming, dark figure just behind him, casting a shadow that threatened to swallow both himself and Kal up in its wake.

“Superman,” The man stated plainly in a deep gravely voice, and Kon spun around to face Batman repelling down from the tall roof. “Kon-El. I have the answer you requested.”

His boots silently came to the concrete ground, and he approached the pair holding a large manila folder out to to the pair. “He's surprisingly talented at covering his trail. But my team is better. The name is Rex Leech. Do you recognize that?”

“No,” Kon emphasized, shaking his head at Kal with vigor. “Who the hell is he?”

“I don’t know, but we will find out,” The alien hissed with clenched fists. “Batman?”

“Leech is staying in Hawaii. This folder is all about his previous jobs and associates,” Bruce's voice grumbled. “He clearly has some interesting prior employees, and he is the man that ordered the attack.”

Kon peeked around Kal’s arm to glance at the opened file, and the clone rolled his eyes in frustration to find he had never seen the man before. While Bruce and Kal spoke to one another about the information dug up regarding Leech and how that would affect them in the future, Kon became bored and laid on his back on the batmobile's roof. He counted the stars and watched wisps of cloud flutter by with threats to cover the shining moon.

His eyes had just slipped closed when he heard a violent grunt come from several feet above him on the roof, and he quickly sat up. Kal also looked up from the papers, alarmed for the briefest moment, but Bruce did not act like he heard the sound at all-or if he heard it, he didn't deem it worrisome. A deep yelp sounded next, followed swiftly by the sound of a broken bone. Kon winced, but Kal looked back down to the file and Kon took that as a sign to safely ignore the mysterious scuffle. 

The sound of zipping line attracted the clone’s attention next, and he looked up with a gasp to find someone falling from that same building. A person clad in dark clothing was plummeting to the ground, and Kon couldn't see that again-he couldn't see another person falling and landing like that, and his eyes burned. A choked whine sounded from the back of his throat, but just before he moved to shoot off toward the man, he felt Kal's grip on his wrist. His head snapped to the side to gape at his tether, and Kal gently ticked his head back toward the man, who had stopped suspended in the air a few feet from the ground. A tight wire held the man's arms to his side and wrapped securely around his chest and torso. His nose was bleeding and Kon assumed that to be the source of the break he heard. A strip of tape was stuck over his mouth, but that didn't stop him from mumbling sounds of hatred toward Batman. And then a grinning face popped over the top of the roof.

“Got him, B!” Robin called, and Kon’s eyes bugged out.

Bruce nodded in affirmation before turning to the side and looking at Kon's hands. The clone flushed to notice he had gripped the car roof in his panic, creating deep dents in the shapes of his fingers. He slowly unlocked his fingers and released the breath that had been caught deep in his lungs since he first saw the man falling.

Bruce gave Kal a large frown, ticking his head toward the dents again as he asked, "What's your salary look like again?"

“It's nothing compared to yours,” Kal reported sadly, but he reached over Kon and popped the dents back out anyway, smoothing the metal once more. “Good to see you again, Robin,” Kal greeted with a smile as Tim repelled down to the concrete and approached the trio. Kal ruffled the younger’s hair and received the most innocuous hand-slap Kon thought could ever exist. He doubted Kal even felt it. “You think Batman will forgive us for wrecking his car?”

Robin turned and grinned at Kon before snickering, "Not a chance."

"Tape?" Batman asked, ticking his head toward the suspended man.

"He was saying some pretty rough stuff. He deserves that," Tim responded easily and moved to Kon's side. He jumped up onto the car roof next to the clone and kicked his feet out with a grin while the captured man protested with muffled shouts.

“You’re out here tonight?” Kon asked in stupor. He knew that was a silly question because they were all looking and talking directly to him, but he was still surprised.

“Yes," Robin exclaimed with a toothy grin and a wink reflected in his domino mask as he added, “I’m on parole for good behavior.”

“And what did you learn from this?” Batman questioned in his gruff voice, and Tim deflated.

“The lesson is to not get caught next time.” Batman grunted noncommittally in response, and Tim snickered as he continued, “I promise, B, next time this happens, I’ll let him know that I’m really staying in Kansas with Superman and his family.” Then he jumped from the car roof and walked in goofy, wide strides to Bruce’s side, mimicking his own self, “Hey tate, guess what? I’m the new Robin that you hear about in the news-that’s right, the one you always complain about when the reports interrupt your football games. And you’ll never believe who our next door neighbor is-“

“Enough,” Bruce snapped, sounding amused despite the gravel. “He should have kept you grounded.”

Tim scoffed and tilted his head in a way to suggest he was rolling his eyes, "You have no sense of humor." And he returned to Kon's side, remaining standing on the ground and leaning with his torso against the batmobile to face Kon. He whispered with a smile, "Thank you for the medicine.”

The clone wrinkled his nose for show, but he couldn't help the fondness in his eyes as he gazed down at Tim, “That stuff smelled like death. Did you actually need it?”

“No, I was fine,” Tim promised, and Kon felt relief flood his abdomen that at least Tim didn't get sick from their cold, middle-of-the-night escapade. “You steal that stuff from a market? I can’t imagine you’re famous enough to warrant the gift of free pizza and NyQuil," Tim drawled, crossing his arms on the vehicle and resting his chin there.

Kon bit at the inside of his cheek, trying to ignore the slight hint of embarrassment knowing the adults present could definitely hear what they were saying, even as they had restarted their discussion about Leech. He responded in an easy voice with a shrug, “What can I say? The public loves me.” And Robin thought this was hilarious.

Kal accepted the folder and thanked Bruce for his help, leaning close to his cowl and thanking someone through the man's earpiece as well. He received a confirmation from a woman's voice, and then he bid the pair farewell. Kon was reluctant to depart, but Bruce still had to contact the police to pick up the fuming man, and he could already pick out three more sirens throughout the city answering to different calls.

Falling asleep that night was much easier as he was a large step closer to solving the mysterious case. He didn't understand why some random man named Rex would target him, but the relief of having family with him during this was palpable. Kal promised they would go to Hawaii after he got home from work the following day, giving Kon time to rest. But while he waited eagerly for their mission, Kon spent the morning speeding around the farm and completed all of the chores in record time. Jonathan watched him in awe, mouth agape as he leaned back on the fence and stayed out of the way. Kon found this reaction silly and he considered making a quip about Jonathan not believing he was truly a clone of Superman until now, but he knew the old man well enough to understand his response would either be that he was shocked the kid was actually working for once, or that he remembers Kon was a clone of Superman well enough due to the hole blasted through his barn a couple weeks ago. Both responses would have been innocuous and led to Kon snarking back with a grin. And though he heard neither because he decided to remain silent during his work, the knowledge that he knew his family well enough to predict their responses to his jokes brought a small smile to his face.

He tapped his feet against the floor all through lunch, and though he couldn't find it in himself to stop, he appreciated that neither of his grandparents fussed at him to stop. He knew his teachers at school would have. When the bowl of chicken and rice soup in front of him was only a quarter emptied, he felt his body was about to burst from anticipation and excitement. So he jumped up from the table and looked down at the startled faces before him.

"Ma, Pa. I am going out for a little bit," he stated before remembering Kal's rules. And though he really didn't plan on leaving the state, he figured his grandparents could still have a say in that. He added in a soft voice, "Is that okay?"

They smiled and nodded, and Krypto jumped at his heels as he stepped outside and shot off into the sky. His telekinesis was bursting in his chest at the opportunity to soar through the sky. He dove to dodge birds and speared through clouds just for fun, keeping a relatively small radius for Kal's sake. He was making another lap around the state when he passed over a city much larger than Smallville, and he heard a cry for help. He was only clad in jeans and a t-shirt with a flannel, but Jonathan told him that Kents don't ignore cries for help when they hear it. They always do something.

And Kon was a Kent.

He dove down, lucky to have left his fake glasses back in his bedroom to possibly save some of his secret identity, and he landed lightly on the stoop of a small bookstore. He peered down to carefully assess the situation, but he couldn't find the source of the cry until he heard it again coming from inside an apartment building across the bustling street from him. Kon was relieved to find the building wasn't on fire, but his X-ray vision wasn't working this time as he squinted at the solid brick. He was forced to fly in blind.

"Help!" Another scream sounded and he burst through the apartment door to find a small girl kneeling on the floor in front of her collapsed grandfather. She spun on him as the wood splintering startled her, and she sobbed harder. Glistening tear streaks decorated her face and her puffy eyes were squinting against the clone as she sucked in a ragged breath. He heard without difficulty that the unconscious man still had a strong heartbeat, but because his X-ray vision wasn't operational in the field yet, he held back from moving the man in case he suffered a broken bone in his fall.

"It's okay," he whispered softly to the girl, holding his hands up for her to see he wasn't holding anything scary. "I will get help for him." And at the blink of an eye, he zipped out of the room and then returned, standing with a confused doctor that he had retrieved from the hospital a couple blocks down the street. He knew snatching someone out of their work place and flying them without permission to a new location was definitely against some unwritten rule, but in the moment he didn't know what else to do.

The doctor blinked around, completely surprised at her new location as she was just at her laptop in the charting room, updating a file on a patient. Her eyes fell on Kon first, and then the old man on the ground. She was still confused as to the sudden change, but she slowly knelt down next to the child as Kon explained the situation. She removed the stethoscope from her neck and listened to the man's heart and lungs even as she gave Kon a wary look. He shrugged bashfully and murmured, "I don't look it now, but I am with Superman."

A realization glistened in her eyes and she asked, "Superboy?"

Kon deflated. "Yup."

He bent down and picked up the crying child as the doctor pulled out her cell phone and called for EMS assistance. She carefully ran her fingers along the man's body to feel for injuries, talking in an elevated voice to the sleeping man the entire time, and Kon watched carefully so he knew what to do in this situation for the next time he found someone lying on the ground. He held the little girl close to his chest and bounced on his toes while they waited for the sirens to arrive, and at the girl's request, he joined them in the ambulance to the hospital.

Only after they were brought to a room and vitals were taken on the man, the little girl gasped and turned to Kon, shouting out in a frantic voice, "I forgot Benny!"

He asked for further information on this statement and he found that Benny was the girl's stuffed monkey, left forgotten on the ground at the scene of her grandfather's collapse. Kon promised he would retrieve the toy, and he zipped out of the hospital, flying with a smile on his face until he returned to the apartment building. But as he walked around the room, he couldn't find the stuffed animal.

He searched the rooms with a frown, peeking into the bathroom and the child's bedroom. He found approximately twenty stuffed animals scattered across her bed and floor, but no monkey. He peeked into the kitchen next when he heard a strange hissing sound from just under the front door. Kon hopped up and floated, looking around frantically for the source of the sound when he saw thick green steam pooling in through the cracks at the door. His mouth fell open and he gasped, zipping across the apartment to the far window, but he found more thick gas coming in through the edges. This color was so familiar and he was feeling sick to his stomach already. He tried to punch a hole through the wall far from the front door and leading into the main hallway for the opportunity to make an escape, but his arm was so weak and his knuckles barely brushed against the chipped paint. He fell to his knees and clutched at his abdomen uselessly as the smoke surrounded him. Kon heard approaching, rushing footsteps, but his eyes slipped closed before he could see to whom they belonged.

The next sensation he heard was a steady clicking sound, firm in tempo and pounding into his ears. Kon woke up slowly and a wave of nausea washed over him. With an uncomfortable groan, he cracked an eye open and winced at the harsh light that directly worsened his headache. He tried to reach up and dig the heel of his palm into his temple to alleviate that stabbing pain, but he couldn't move. His eyes snapped open now, headache be damned, and a bitter taste of déjà vu flooded his mouth when he found himself strapped to a chair. He yelped in fear and yanked painfully at all four limbs, but they were locked in place with shining green slabs of metal that Kon understood to be embedded with kryptonite. His breath caught in his throat.

“Calm down," a voice spat and Kon found Lex Luthor sitting across from him at the table, waiting with a gaze dripping in condescension as though he believed Kon was just throwing another unnecessary fit. "We are only here because we need to talk.”

"Kal! " Kon screamed out in a hitched voice, squeezing his eyes shut because there was no way he could actually be here right now, everyone kept saying Lex would never-

"And now you've summoned the alien. How wonderful," Lex sighed.

“This is some talk,” Kon hissed sardonically, eyes opening again and tugging at his wrists for emphasis. "The setup looks a little familiar, and it was bad enough the first time. Don't you know the sequels always suck?"

“You think I could trust you to stay here?” The man rolled his eyes with dramatics. “Please. Now listen to me. You and I need to talk about the Stinger.”

Kon settled slightly, limbs frozen and no longer tugging on his restraints as he watched Lex with wide, unblinking eyes. He wasn't expecting to discuss the case with Lex after the man told Superman that he didn't have anything to do with the bounty. In his pause, he heard the wall clock ticking above Lex and a chair leg scrape across the floor from the next building over. Other than that, they were alone in this entire building.

“I’m going to release the bars and you’ll be free to sit here with me properly and talk, just like a mature individual. Right?” Lex demanded, and Kon slumped down in his seat, turning his head away from the man. Kon remained silent until he realized Lex wouldn’t continue without his verbal cooperation.

“Fine,” he snapped, and the metal clasps released immediately. Kon rubbed at his right wrist with his opposite hand and scowled across the table.

“Impeccable manners. I see living in a small town truly does nothing in building a civil personality. Shame," He murmured as Kon shook his head and scoffed, purposefully ignoring the man's scrutinizing gaze. Lex finally tisked and demanded, “Sit up and look at me.” Kon reluctantly straightened his posture, facing and glaring at the man in silence. “Back to the matter in question. Imagine my absolute shock when I got a visit from Superman demanding to know whether or not I sent a bounty hunter out to murder you. I know you’ve already informed the bat of this, as well as received a name from his associate. Would you care to share your enlightenment?”

Kon growled and shook his head petulantly.

“Of course not. Your insolence seems to be destined to act as my torment.”

Kon wanted to accuse the man for fault because he did make the clone, but at that moment a tremendous crash of shattering brick sounded, and Kon spun around in his chair, despite already knowing who just interrupted their meeting. Kon turned back to Lex's annoyed grimace, wearing a wide, rebellious grin and slouching once more in his seat. Superman's eyes were glowing dangerous embers and his teeth were bared, but he skidded to a surprised stop to find Kon sitting at the table, unrestrained and even appearing comfortable now that he had arrived.

“Well look who decided to join us,” Lex deadpanned, frowning heavily at the hole in the wall the alien created. "I just had this office decorated. You should be expecting a bill for that within the week."

“Lex, I warned you-”

“Enough, Clark. It's just the three of us here, and we are having a discussion about this Rex Leech character.”

Kon’s jaw dropped and he demanded, “Wait, you knew who it was?”

Lex appeared smug as he answered, “What Batman found, he found unknowingly for me. I should send him a fruit basket. Does he like apples or pears?”

Kal placed a gentle hand on Kon's shoulder, drawing the clone's attention up as he softly asked, “Do you want to leave?”

Kon bit at the inside of his cheek and faced Lex again. He wanted more information on Leech, and he figured watching their game might be fun, so he decided, “It’s fine. We can talk without the restraints.”

“Always one step ahead of you," Lex stated, nodding to the clone's free limbs. Kon crossed his arms defiantly, and Lex continued. "It is a pleasure to see you again. There are a lot of things I didn’t anticipate for you when your cells successfully reproduced in that very beginning stage of clone production, such as living with Superman,” he sneered at the alien. “Or attending high school.”

Kon’s mouth dropped again, and Kal's hand tightened on his shoulder for support. “How do you know I’m in high school?”

“Please.” Luthor rolled his eyes with exasperation. “You didn’t really think I’d allow you to carry on without my close supervision, right, Conner Kent?” Kon bit at his lower lip with discomfort now, eyes wide and head shaking. He felt his skin crawling because if Lex knew about the clone attending school, then he must also know about the battles in Hawaii and San Fransisco. It meant he knew about Kon's family, and Tim- “I know of your whereabouts. My, my, you’ve become quite close to the current Robin, haven’t you?”

Kon blinked.

“Yes, there it is,” Lex chuckled and Kon's cheeks flushed as his gaze slipped down and to the side. He found Kal frowning in his peripherals, and Lex met his glare. “Of course you are oblivious, Clark. Conner, you listen to me." The clone's eyes rose again, but his face was still embarrassingly warm. "You have this alien’s powers, sure, but you will always have some human in you too-and Clark will never be able to help you with those parts.” Superman’s frown deepened and Kon knew he wanted to retort that they have a family, but Lex waved that away and continued. “Anyway. I’m sure you are suffering in that ridiculous excuse of a public school system. I created you to endure much more than someone incompetent and under-qualified teaching you beginner's algebra. You must have really pissed off the alien if he stuck you there five days out of the week.”

“No,” Kon huffed. “He says it’s good for me.”

“This school fiasco isn’t even punishment for acting poorly?” Lex asked with wide eyes, genuinely surprised at the information. “Wow. And this outfit he has dressed you in too? Is he frugal or just blind?”

Kon looked down at his T-shirt and flannel, feeling offended at the insult. He was the one that picked out the clothes he wore because he liked the color red and he had been completing chores before he went flying. He knew Lex was only trying to get a rise out of both of them, and he noticed Kal had not fallen for the bait at all, remaining a quiet force behind him.

“You were made for much more than this, you know."

“He said it would give me a normal life," Kon answered honestly.

“You want that?” 

He shrugged, “It’s nice on occasion. What do you know about Rex Leech?”

“I believe he is unworthy of your time and talents. You are one of the strongest, smartest beings in this world, created from my mind. I refuse to allow low-level con men to try and persuade you to join them for their selfish benefit.”

“You’re one to talk," Kon grumbled, clenching his fists under the table.

“Don’t be an ingrate.” Lex warned, and Kon heard Kal moving behind him in preparation. "Having the audacity to compare me to Leech is impractical and in vain."

Kon huffed out another annoyed breath of air, and tasted the frustrating reality that arguing was a waste of time. "So then you didn't hire the Stinger to come after me as some convoluted scheme to bring me back to Cadmus?"

Lex took a short pause to chuckle softly. "If I wanted to drag you back to Cadmus now, I certainly wouldn't need the hindrance of some B-level nuisance like the Stinger. And trust me when I say that this one here wouldn't be able to stop me," he added slyly with a head nod to Superman.

Kal growled dangerously and spit out through clenched teeth, "Lex, that is enough."

Kon wished he could have said he was entirely unafraid in that moment. He believed that nothing really could stop Superman if someone he cared for was taken. But Lex made his threat with equal certainty that Kal made his promise, and Kon didn't know which he could trust to be true. If Lex succeeded in his initial plan of mind control, Kon wouldn't even have the consciousness needed to understand he was missing his friends and family, and that terror that had previously been muffled was now coming back to the forefront of his mind. Goosebumps traveled up his arms and he swallowed harshly at the lump formed in his throat while Lex watched him squirm.

"Okay," the clone interrupted quickly. "So then we are all in favor of finding this Rex guy and putting a stop to whatever operation he's running to try and abduct me-or whatever he wants to do. Right?" The following pause was filled with senseless sound as Kal insisted they didn't need Lex for this because he could complete it himself in less than a second, and Lex demanded he be involved in the retribution of someone who attacked his work. "Then we all go," Kon decided for them with a lazy shrug. He snickered and added, "It'll be loads of fun. Aren't we the picture-perfect portrait for modern family? You two are like that divorced couple forced together for their kid's birthday party. And I just get double the presents and cake."

Lex grunted pointedly at Kal, "He obviously gets this annoying attempt at humor from your side."

Chapter Text

“We don’t have to go with him,” Kal reminded gently and Kon tilted his head to look at the alien. They were flying high in the clouds now, feeling the sun rays on their faces as they traveled to Hawaii. Kon glanced back to his left where Lex was piloting his private jet. The clone tried to offer speeding up their journey by carrying Lex to Hawaii to meet Leech, but the man turned that idea down with haste. Kal accompanied Kon as they zipped back home from Lex’s office so the clone could change into his House of El suit, and Kal had offered they ditch Lex at least twenty times since then. He added now in a low voice, “We can go to Hawaii and find Rex Leech before Luthor even leaves the state.”

“I can hear you,” Lex spat out through the comms embedded in Kal’s and Kon’s ears, devices present for Lex’s hearing rather than their own. Lex’s nose was scrunched in distaste and he wore large headphones that covered his ears. Kon watched the angry lines of the man’s face morph to holy hatred, and he wondered if he also looked like that when he was furious. He didn't really want an answer to that question though.

Superman ignored the man and took his own ear piece out before reaching across and removing Kon’s. They could still hear Lex shouting at them over the roaring wind and the engine, but their conversations were now private, and Kal said, “Why do you want Lex to come with us?”

Kon shrugged easy and snickered, “I think it’ll be funny to see what he does when he’s pissed.”

“Conner, you’ve seen what he does when he’s angry, right?” Kal leveled him with a serious gaze and the clone sobered. Of course Kon had seen how Lex acts. He’s been herded into an elevator with kryptonite by the man, he’s been poisoned and cut open while awake, and Kon will never forget the kryptonite necklace that was forced around his throat. He still felt the memory suffocating him. “Why do you want him to come?”

“He’s rich, I think Leech will actually give us honest answers that we need,” he tried again.

Kal’s stride faltered as he righted himself in the sky and gestured down to his suit. Kon huffed and crossed his arms, knowing that was a weak excuse given that he was traveling with Superman-a superhero that could absolutely acquire honest answers from someone. Kal suggested, “Try again.”

“Okay, fine!” Kon extended his arms in exasperation. “I just want to see why Lex was so interested in coming along. He took me so easily from that building today. I need to know if it really was some annoying con to get me back to Cadmus, or if he actually sort of... wants me to be safe.”

Kal nodded slowly, visually running the response around in his head. “Okay, Kon. We will figure this out together. But listen, you did so good calling me. I’m sorry I didn’t know about this happening until I heard you, and I couldn’t stop it before he took you. I promise we will talk about this together back at home, but I want you to know that I’m very proud of you. You did an excellent job.”

Kon smiled back in appreciation, wanting to say so many things in that moment. He wanted to tell Kal that he was terrified when he woke up kidnapped again, that he felt his spine freeze under the fear and his skin crawled with nervous anticipation. He wanted to tell Kal about the overwhelming relief he felt wash over him when Superman arrived, and he was no longer alone in Lex’s grasp. But before he could say anything, his expression quickly morphed into a scrunched grimace as he heard Lex snarl from the jet, “You both better put those comms back in, right now. You’re lucky I even decided to take you along instead of dealing with this my own way.” Kal was frowning again, but he replaced Kon’s comm and then his own while Lex continued. “But I still want more information from him-something he will readily give up at the opportunity to speak to the famous Superboy. And it’ll probably be therapeutic for you to see the man who hired the Stinger, Conner.”

“We aren’t hurting Leech,” Kal warned, before Kon could respond. “We are getting his story and moving from there. We aren’t going to Hawaii to murder him.”

“You deal with this your own way and I’ll do the same,” Lex grumbled.

Kal suddenly zipped in front of Kon, eliciting a surprised gasp from the clone who wasn’t expecting the sudden motion, before stopping at the nose of Lex’s jet and placing warning palms against the metal without adding any real resistance. But the promise was there. “I will not hesitate to turn this plane around and bring you back to Metropolis myself. I will say this just once more, and know that I mean it. You are not hurting Leech.”

“Don’t threaten me, Superman.” Kon risked a quick glance and found that Lex appeared furious, eyes sharp and wide, loathing sneer painted across his face as he spoke. “I am being generous enough not to revoke your custody of him,” Lex growled, jerking his head toward Kon, and the clone winced as Kal’s eyes lit up a fiery red with embedded threat. But Lex did not back down. “He should come back with me. You weren’t even watching him, Clark. You almost let some amateur kill him? The Stinger? That is embarrassing and you should be ashamed. Don’t you understand how much time and effort went into making him? And you,” Lex snapped his head to the side to face Kon, who watched him now with eyes bugging. “Flying into battle without so much as a basic crash course as to who you will be facing? I made sure you are smarter than that-act like it.”

Kon could feel his face burning, and he choked on a lump caught in his throat that blocked any excuse. He returned his gaze back to the sky in front of him and he tuned out the resulting argument just as Kal was rebuking Lex. He hated that a chastising from Lex could lead to him feeling so low, but he still felt the weight of his failure against the Stinger grip at his chest. And as he looked out into the soft blue sky, he could see the faces of the people falling. The Stinger had been detained after Kara assisted Kon in San Fransisco, but the man still ran rampant in his conscience, and Kon begged for the opportunity to rid himself of that.

More information regarding Lex and Leech would bring Kon some relief, but he was also anticipating finally relaxing in his room, lying next to Krypto and listening to his family shuffling through the house around him. He wanted to see his grandparents again already, and see Jon when he got home from school. He ached for the conclusion of this confrontation so he could rest again, free from Leech’s attention.

His eyes slipped closed as Lex’s grating voice pierced his thoughts and he scowled, “I can just do this by myself if you only want to argue the whole time.” Kon's snap was vague in direction, but he had hardly finished when Lex and Kal shot twin demands of refusal his way.

“You are not doing this alone-” Kal insisted, while Lex demanded, “That is out of the question.”

“Then shuddup already,” Kon whispered, crossing an arm over his chest and rubbing his temple with his free hand.

Kal returned to his side, and drew Kon’s attention before making a show of taking his comm out of his ear and holding it up between his thumb and pointer finger. Lex yelled again, an angry sound coming from the jet and comms equally, but Kal winked at Kon and crushed the device effortlessly. A sneaky grin stretched across Kon’s face and he quickly pulled out his own to the tune of Lex’s threats. He shattered his as easy as Kal did, and the alien held out his palm to collect the trash.

“It’s you and me,” Kal promised. “He's coming, sure. But this is you and me. What is our plan?”

Kon nodded quickly, wringing his hands together nervously as he recited, “We go to Hawaii, find Rex Leech, and ask him why he sent the Stinger after me.”

“Very good. We will be there soon. Deep breaths.”

“That’s hard,” Kon stressed with a frown. “He wanted me dead. And now we are going to go see him.”

“You aren’t alone. I am here with you. And if you don’t want to see him, you can hover above the building and listen to the whole thing. If you want to come in, if there is a point that you feel too uncomfortable, you can step outside. He isn’t worth your worries. We just need to ensure that he will not try this again.”

“I wanna come with you,” Kon decided firmly, and he looked down over the ocean they were crossing. He remembered swooping down to touch the water when he flew with Kara, and the thought brought a reluctant smile to his face. They landed on the beach of the island and waited with crossed arms and impatient frowns as Lex landed and stepped out of the jet a few yards from the pair. 

“Are you two kidding me?” Lex growled, taking off his helmet and headphone duo and tossing them into the pit before slamming the door. “I had no idea I was traveling with two comedians. How lucky am I?”

“You take too long to get ready,” Kon teased with a ticked eyebrow and a twitch at the corner of his mouth.

Lex shot him a firm look and pointed menacingly while speaking in a low voice that sent a warning shiver down Kon’s spine, “I better not be hearing that attitude from you.”

“Sorry,” Kon whispered, biting on the inside of his cheek and quickly changing the subject. “So, Leech. Do we ask someone where he is? I can speak the language, I can ask around.”

“Why would we need to do that? I have the address right here,” Lex responded, holding up his cell phone and showing the pair a tracking GPS page. Before Kal or Kon could demand an explanation, a black van pulled over on the road, just a couple feet from the beach on which they stood. The windows were dark and the license plate was nondescript. “Get in. This is our ride.”

Kal sighed deeply, and guided Kon toward the van. The clone still couldn’t look inside the vehicle, but he knew Superman could, and so he trusted he wasn’t being led into a horrible trap.

Kal and Kon sat across from Lex in the vehicle, facing backwards and exchanging uncomfortable glances.

“Conner, buckle up,” Lex scolded, and Kon frowned deeply even while he tugged on his seat belt and clicked it in place across his lap and chest. 

The drive was long and Kon complained relentlessly that he could fly so much faster than they were traveling. Lex ignored him pointedly and Kal tried to distract him with questions about his time and thoughts on the island. Kal suggested they eat an early dinner before they leave if Kon thought he would enjoy the food there, and Kon admitted he wanted to go back to the beach and swim in the ocean after the meeting. Lex was unimpressed.

The vehicle stopped with a sudden jerk in front of an office building and Kon tried to scramble out of the small car before realizing he was still buckled in. He shot an annoyed scowl in Lex’s direction, but the man had already stepped out of the vehicle and missed the look completely. Kon stepped out into the warm air and found them standing in front of a white brick office building. Kon paused for a moment outside of the vehicle to listen into the building and decipher what they were about to walk into. The bustling streets behind him were a distraction until he felt Kal step out of the car behind him, and he closed his eyes to concentrate.

With a deep breath, he found a total of twelve people inside the two-story building, bustling between the rooms and calling out to one another. Two women on the lower floor talked about their weekend plans and three people in the room next to them discussed the results of a board meeting. One person hummed to themself in the elevator. And finally, Kon heard someone shout out, “Rex! We’ve got the numbers from last week on our desk.”

“Bingo,” Kon whispered before stating aloud in a clear voice, “He’s on the second floor. That way,” he pointed to the left of the building.

Lex led the way inside while Kal clasped his hands on Kon’s shoulders and congratulated him on discovering the man’s location so well.

Gaping mouths and impossibly wide eyes met the trio as they walked through the building. The employees whispered surprised exclamations of their names as they stepped back to clear a path to the elevator. Lex smashed his finger into the button and suddenly, Kon couldn’t breathe. He felt like a vacuum cleaner sucked the air from the room and his lungs, and his words were stuck in his stomach. His skin crawled and he felt his bones were melting beneath his muscles. His heart hammered quickly in his chest when the elevator door announced its arrival with the light sound of a bell, and Kal turned to face Kon with a worried frown and a question on his lips.

The doors opened and Lex stepped into the elevator car, turning to face Kon and leaning against the back wall. He was frowning with impatience and something akin to confusion.

“Let’s get this meeting over with,” Lex snapped, tilting his head to his left to summon the clone inside. “Come on.”

Kon blinked and forced himself to speak in a loud, high voice, “Stairs!” He spun around and zipped past amazed employees as he raced toward the door housing a picture of a staircase. Without waiting for another word, he threw the door open and disappeared from their sight. In the empty, cold staircase, he panted a few shallow breaths before sucking in a deep breath and holding. He felt his hands tremble and he wiped his palms against the fabric of his pants. He hadn't expect such a reaction from himself, but between the elevator and Lex calling him into it, he simply couldn't stand to follow the instructions. The second-floor door handle was chilled beneath his skin, and he slowly slipped through it and into the lobby. He waited by the elevator doors with arms crossed and when the ding sounded again, he found Kal and Lex exit the car while arguing.

“We both talk to Leech. We’ve already agreed on that. Understand?” Kal asked firmly.

“The very second he starts wasting our time, I’m doing this my way,” Lex growled back.

Kal sighed as he wrapped an encouraging arm around Kon’s shoulder and steered him down the long hallway trailing behind Lex. Fewer people stood on this floor, but they all gasped in surprise and shot up from their chairs when they found who their office building was hosting. Toward the back of the building stood a door housing the nameplate: Rex Leech. Lex quickly rapped his knuckles across the wood door, but when only half a second of silence followed, Kon ducked in front of him and threw the door open.

“Manners,” Lex reprimanded and tugged the clone back to stand behind him and Kal. Kon didn’t have time to scoff back that Lex had just insinuated hurting the man while Kon only sped up the start of their meeting, when he became enthralled by the office in which they stood. It all appeared so normal.

The small office room was cluttered with three file cabinets, a large desk and rolling chair, two cushioned chairs, and a short couch. The walls were filled with newspaper clippings and the desk was littered with papers, folders, and two large lamps burning an orange fluorescent across the room. A short man-presumably Rex Leech-reaching approximately Kon’s height, sat in the rolling chair in the middle of the office. He spun around with a frown at the interruption, but he gaped at his company with a sputtered breath and wide eyes only partially hidden by dark sunglasses positioned on the bridge of his nose. He had a deep widow’s peak and his forehead reached far back toward the apex of his skull. Dark, springy curls were slicked back at the top and twisted freely tucked behind his ears and reaching his shoulders. His grey suit was wrinkled and his blue tie was loosened greatly around his neck. He shot up to his feet and planted his palms on the desk, leaning forward to gaze at the trio standing before him.

“Holy shit!” He gasped, eyes shifting between the two adults and overlooking Kon-El completely. “Superman? Mister Lex Luthor? What tha’ hell’re you two doing here in Hawaii?”

Lex sighed in what Kon recognized as annoyance, but Kal stated shortly with his chin raised high and eyes sharp, “We are here to talk to you.”

Leech’s eyes landed on the clone then and he clapped his hands together, “Superboy! What a wonderful surprise. I’ve been lookin’ forward to meetin’ you for some time now.”

“I don’t like that name,” Kon mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest and furrowing his brow.

“It’ll grow on you, kid,” he dismissed with a shrug. “I’m Rex Leech, and I've been trying to organize a meeting with you. The station sent Tana Moon up to fetch you for an interview, but I suppose she met a bit of a sturdy road block, huh?” He winked at Superman. Kon risked a glance and found the alien frowning largely. Rex continued, “No matter. You are here now, and I’ve got quite the pitch for you.” He faltered again when he found the two adults straddling the clone glaring furiously at him. “Uh can I speak to our little superstar here alone?”

“Absolutely not,” Kal stated, while Luthor growled, “No chance in hell.”

Rex chuckled nervously and tipped his sunglasses further down the bridge of his nose to peek at Kon, to whom he flashed a wink. “Yikes. Tough crowd you brought along, huh?”

Kon shuffled uncomfortably under the man’s eyes. He didn’t know what he was expecting to see-knowing better than to think the man would present with pointed demon horns and a red swishing tail. But Rex Leech looked so average, just like someone he would have seen on the streets of Smallville. His chest tugged as he looked at the face behind the scheme that created haunting memories flashing behind his eyelids. “How do you know me?” Kon finally asked.

“All business and no play with you too, Jack? That’s no fun, and I will definitely change that for you,” He pointed an aggressive finger at the clone, who gulped and stepped back despite himself. He didn’t know who Jack was, but he also didn’t want to ask. He felt Kal’s hand resting on his shoulder and he felt his own beating heart slow just a fraction. “Like I said, my name is Rex Leech. You betta’ remember that because I’m going to be your new manager.” Kon wrinkled his nose. “I noticed you working here a few weeks ago when you stopped that strange clay man from wreaking havoc. You did a great job and most importantly, the people absolutely loved you. They wanted more of you.”

“Me?“ Kon asked, feeling torn. Something about the man so glaringly rang bells of suspicion in his mind. The clone was filled with unsettling distrust, but he believed making a name for himself could be interesting. And he did still want an interview.

“Yes, you! What am I, speaking Spanish?” Rex chuckled, turning to the other two adults, who crossed their arms, not entertained. With a sigh, Rex turned back to Kon, who was worrying away at his lip in his own dilemma. “Haven’t you been watching the news?”

Kon frowned and shook his head. Since Kal refused his request to accept the interview invitation, he hasn’t paid a lot of attention to the news. This only increased tenfold after the Stinger. Based on what Bruce had said, he figured there were video clips being played, and Kon had no interest in watching the footage.

“Well no wonder you are confused then. Your name is everywhere-just look at these headlines!” He pointed down to the papers scattered across his desk and Kon leaned forward to find his face spread across the newspaper clippings. Rex snapped at him and pointed up at a small television tucked in the corner of his office with a whistle. Kon found a replaying video of his fight on Hawaii. “Superboy and Supergirl Saves Town,” Rex read aloud. “Twin Supers to the Rescue. Superboy Answers Calls. You name it, you’re in it! People are obsessed with ya. And I only popularized you further with the little fiasco in San Fran. You’re young and stylish. Your name should be printed across billboards and coming from the mouths of every single teenage girl in the country. My own daughter loves you.” He shuffled around his desk until he found his cellphone. Rex paused briefly while his fingers flew across the screen, and he murmured, “In fact, she’s on her way with my lunch. She’ll get a real kick outta this.”

“But what do you want with me?” Kon asked, eyes still glued to the TV screen.

“Excuse my bluntness, kid, but I want to own you,” Rex answered with a smirk, setting his phone down again and pulling a cigar from a wooden box resting in his desk. He lit a match on his pant leg and returned to his chair, leaning back as the thick stench of smoke filled the room. Kon’s eyes were stinging and threatened to water as nausea flooded his abdomen. “I want to own your name and your symbol. And that face of course. I can make you famous if I secure the exclusive rights to... well, to you.”

Kon frowned, quickly glancing down at his chest. “This isn’t my symbol, it’s my family’s. I don't need a manager, and I hardly need you for fame. Didn’t you just say I was all over the news?”

“And that, brat, was partly my doing.” His quick snip reminded Kon of Lex, and the clone bit down on the inside of his cheek to remain silent as the man continued. “I know these two walked in with an attitude,” Rex hitched his chin up toward Superman and Lex, “and I can understand that. They had to travel over the ocean just to bring you here. But I’m not going to hear or accept any sass from a kid like you.” Kon felt Kal move next to him, and he heard both adults open their mouths to say something-though he couldn’t imagine what Lex would say. He had already commented on the clone’s attitude several times, so he doubted he would stick up for Kon now. But Rex quickly added, “Let’s not get upset, let’s not fight. Superboy, I can make you a superstar. World tour, merchandise, press. The works. Hell, you like it here in Hawaii? Just say aloha and pack a bag, kid, because I can move you here permanently. The Hero of Hawaii! I can hear them chanting now! You’re part alien, but you came out white instead of green-all of America will love you!” Kon grimaced. “After San Fran, you know how many sources were begging for just an interview with you? Imagine what they’d put out for a whole special with the great, magical Superboy!”

“So your plan is to exploit him by becoming his sole representative?” Lex confirmed sharply as he stepped forward, and Rex grinned toothily. “You are perverse and entirely insufferable. And obviously not the master mind behind this ridiculous operation. So who is?”

“Lex, please,” Kal reprimanded, shaking his head at the man.

“Who told you to recruit Superboy?” Lex repeated in a louder voice, slamming a fist onto the table and causing both Kon and Rex to jump in surprise.

“Alright, alright,” Rex relented immediately, showing his palms for feigned evidence that he had nothing to hide. “Vincent Edge at WGBS wanted more views and higher ratings, so he paid me to find super villains that were willing to fight Superboy here. It isn't really a secret, just a popularity strategy.”

“Someone paid you for that?” Kon asked as he felt his stomach turned to ice. "But he tried to kill me. He said you hired him as a bounty hunter."

“Sure,” Rex answered lazily with a shrug. “I was hired to get your attention. Business 101 is to divvy out tasks-especially if the second is asking for less than what you’re being paid. Ya geddit’?” Rex winked. “So I contacted the Stinger. He was excited for the opportunity to take you on head-to-head, kiddo. Kept yapping his jaw about some electric whip or trip wire he had, I dunno really.” Kon felt ill, his face was drained of color and his legs felt shaky. As subtle as he could, his feet lifted from the carpet and he hovered to prevent the embarrassment of falling over. “You’d created quite the rep for yourself already, so it wasn’t that hard to get you back on television. It was for publicity, kid, the whole thing was staged. And you performed perfectly. Yeah we hired him, but I knew he wasn't going to actually get to kill you-you're basically Superman for crying out loud!”

“Staged?” Kon’s voice faltered and stuttering with disbelief. “B-but, but he-he murdered people. They died. That wasn’t staged, I saw it happen.”

Rex barked out a chuckle. “Of course they died. Did you miss the part where I said ‘super villain?’ He had to make it big. Death gets attention-and Edge wanted your attention and the world's.”

Kon felt his insides abrupt into a hatred drenched with flames. He knew his telekinesis was already reaching past his skin and tickling at Kal’s hand with warning, moments away from exploding. He was furious at the audacity of the man to act like this was normal and expected of him. Like it was a performance. The room became even more clouded and small as Rex puffed out another reeking cloud of smoke.

“The Stinger isn’t a good guy,” Rex continued when Kon’s silence persisted. “That’s why he was hired in the first place. The best way to look real, kid, is to be real. Now, I gave you an image, and you really should be grateful for that. I know Edge is really looking forward to what happens next with you.”

Kon’s eyes were bugging, baffled in what he had just heard. 

His racing thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the office door bell jingling right behind the trio, and catching the attention of the room’s occupants. Rex grinned, “Ah, here’s my daughter now. This’ll be a real treat. Come on in, sweetie. Look who I’ve got!”

Kon turned around and found a young woman bounding toward him, and his feet landed on the floor again with surprise. Her blonde, curled hair was pulled up in a high ponytail, and she carried a bag that smelled like grease and oil. She tossed the bag onto Rex’s desk and faced Kon, wearing a huge smile and clasping her hands before her thin frame.

“Wow, you are super cute,” She squealed in a shrill voice, reaching forward and grabbing his cheeks in a pinch. “The cutest person I’ve ever seen!”

“This is Roxy Leech, my pride and joy,” Rex chuckled, leaning back in his chair again as he unwrapped the bag of lunch. “Told ya she’d have an absolute thrill to meet you. She’s got quite an eye for fame.”

She pulled Kon close and purred, “Honey, you don’t really wanna stay here and listen to this boring business stuff, do ya? How about you and I pop off and let them be. I can show you around the island, and I promise, I’m a ton more fun than my dad is.” Her offer was lewd and Kon’s eyebrows shot up.

The room succumbed to silence as Kon stared slack-jawed at the woman until Lex suddenly began snickering quietly to the side.

“That little tactic’s not going to work with this one, Leech,” Lex stated plainly, and Kon’s entire face reddened. The clone's blush reached his ears, and he wanted to dissolve into the floor at his feet to spare himself the pain.

“Lex,” Kal snapped loudly. "That is enough, both of you. What you are trying here will never work, because Superboy isn't going to stay here with you."

"But there's no tactic," Rex reassured and Lex scoffed in disbelief. "I only wanted to introduce the two kids to one another. I think they would get along just fine, and someone needs to be here to show him around the state. Everyone needs a friend, right?"

Kon's head was spinning and a fresh wave of nausea washed across his abdomen. He didn't know how the man could possibly believe Kon was still going to agree to move here and accept his offer of management after everything he had admitted.

"You only have self-serving interest in this deal you are trying to strike. You want money?" Lex demanded of the man. "Fine. I'll give you twenty-five right this second if you give us peace of mind and finally shut the hell up."

Kon's insides swam with tension, begging for him to release his wrath of telekinesis. Roxy was still watching him, her eyes sharp and piercing as they dug into his skin. Kon could smell her perfume and lip gloss, and the scent danced across his nose alongside the cigar smoke, creating more painful nausea.

“Twenty-five dollars, Lex? Seriously?” Kal asked in a low voice. “That’s all you are offering up to quiet this guy?”

Kon stepped back out of Roxy's touch, and he felt his hands shaking at his sides. The elevator, the smoke, the perfume, the performance. He was going to be sick.

Lex rolled his head over to Kal and eyeballed him intensely. “Twenty-five mill. Stop talking; you’re embarrassing yourself.”

Before anyone could respond, Kon quickly zipped around the adults and flew out of the office. He was back outside and sitting on the curb in a blink of the eye when he realized Kal had followed him.

"Hey. We have our information," Kal murmured, wrapping an arm around the clone and pulling him close to his side. "I say you and I just leave now."

Despite the overwhelming sense of dread and disgust Kon had felt throughout the entire meeting with Leech, he sat upright and shook his head. "Wait," he pleaded, "Shouldn't we... stay and hear this guy out? He has connections to people-like TV people."

Kal moved closer and asked under his breath, "Conner, this is about the interview he mentioned, isn't it? Why do you want one so bad? These people just want to strip you down and use you. Leech is not a good man, and neither is the Edge person that hired him. Don't you feel that?"

Kon huffed in aggravation and pulled away, sliding further down the side walk and crossing his arms. “Yeah, of course I feel that. He's definitely a lousy con-man, and it's hilarious that Lex offered him all of that money just to stop talking. But Kal, you just don't understand it. I read my file from Cadmus, and it said in there that Lex wanted to control my mind. My mind! I wouldn’t even be here right now if he was able to do that-mentally. I would be gone forever, and I wouldn't be able to talk to you. Or Jon. Or Ma or Pa or Lois or anyone. I couldn't go to school or fly around with you. But I got lucky, and I am here. And I want to say my own word instead of whatever garbage he would have forced from me. It’s a privilege for me to have that, and it has to be for everyone to hear before it gets taken away.”

Kal lowered his head, eyebrows drawn in sorrow and mouth turned down. Kon swallowed harshly, regretting causing the alien such grief. He moved back to Kal's side as the older admitted, "I didn’t know you felt this way. And what you are saying makes sense. I know he scared you, but what he wrote in that file will never happen to you. You got lucky, because you escaped him all on your own that first time. You are so brave and strong, and he will never be able to control that. Not Lex or Leech or Edge. Nobody will be able to control that." Kon's chin wobbled and he hurriedly ran his sleeve across his burning eyes. Kal turned to the clone and wrapped him up in a full hug, ignoring the wide eyes from across the street. After a brief pause, Kal moved back and brought Kon's gaze up with a finger tucked under the clone's chin. "But how about something else?" He suggested as he looked deep into Kon's eyes. "You know, I happen to know an excellent reporter. Can someone a little closer to home interview you? It’ll be print of course, in the Daily Planet, but that's better because video is dead anyway,” he added with a wink, and Kon grinned.

"Deal," Kon promised in a whisper with a hurried nod. Superman stood up and pulled Kon to his feet beside him, while Kon added, "You know, Kal, I’m surprised you stayed so quiet in there. He was saying some pretty rough stuff."

Kal scoffed, "That man is so transparent. He was trying to get a rise out of Lex and I, just to turn around and tell you that our reactions were proof we don’t want you to succeed. It is a childish game that I don't play. Plus, Rex gave us the information we need. We still won." Kon nodded thoughtfully. He supposed they had sort of won-and they were able to leave the state with a destination of Edge. "Now, we've left him alone in there with Lex for a few minutes. Think he's been punished enough?"

Kon snickered, "Which one?"

Kal chuckled whole-heartedly and tugged the clone into another hug. He ruffled Kon's hair as he pulled away and with a shared knowing gaze, they decided to simply fly up to the window outside of Rex's office, tap on the glass, and tick their heads to the side to signify their departure to Lex.

Lex joined them and the trio walked away from the office toward the same black car parked at the corner. Lex was shaking his head in annoyance and scoffing.

"This trip was nearly a complete waste of time, just as I suspected," Lex muttered with grit teeth. "Trying to use his daughter to seduce you into taking his deal sure was desperate. But what do you expect from con-men and lawyers. They are all so cheap. No need to worry about Edge though, he's only a small keg in the clock. And as of recently, he's become completely irrelevant to us as well as the world. His son took over the company and rendered him inconsequential."

“How do you know so much about Vincent Edge?” Kon asked curiously as he crawled into the vehicle and strapped the belt across his chest and lap.

“The family likes to believe they are powerful pieces of our little financial game. They’re playing checkers though while the rest of us are seated at a chess board. They mean nothing and they won’t call for you again, Conner. Trust me.” Kon nodded and turned to face the window, watching the trees and building pass by in a blur. He didn't know why he believed Lex, but he trusted the man knew what he was talking about in this business. Lex continued, addressing Kal as he said, "Clark, just because you and I worked here as one today, don't you dare think for a second that we are anything but opposites. And you will be defeated."

"I expect nothing less from you," Kal assured the man.

They arrived at the beach and Lex was moving toward the front door of his jet when Kon jogged over him, signaling to Kal that this would only take a moment of their time. "Lex, I have a question," he stated, and the man grunted in response, pulling on his helmet and headphones. Kon accepted this as an invitation to continue, and he asked, "Where is Doctor Donovan?"

Lex faced him with genuine surprise glinting in his eyes and a ticked eyebrow. "In light of your new lifestyle, I thought you would have forgotten all about him. He’s still at my lab-working."

"Can I see him, sometime?” Kon shuffled on his feet, rotating his weight between his toes before adding in a subdued voice, “Please?”

Lex leaned back against the metal of the aircraft and crossed his arms over his chest. “That means you are willingly coming back to Cadmus to see him. Am I hearing you correctly?”

"No," Superman answered for him, stepping forward with a glare. "He does not need to go back to Cadmus for this. They can meet somewhere else in Metropolis."

Kon bit his lip and when he saw a hint of refusal flash across Lex's face, he hurriedly relented. “Yes. Yes, it can mean I will willingly go back to Cadmus to talk to him, but then I leave again. I just want to talk to Donovan.”

Lex regarded the clone for several quiet seconds, peering down while Kon looked up in pleading. “We will work something out, and I’ll get back to you. Be good.”

Luthor turned around and climbed into the jet as Kon stepped away at Kal's side.

The alien wrapped an arm around him and asked, “So about this interview...”

***

“Are you ready?” Lois asked in a soft voice, smiling brightly at him with encouragement.

Lois and Kon sat across from one another at the kitchen table over two cups of hot, aromatic tea. The sun has just set and the moon was already casting comfortable lighting through the kitchen window, reflecting off the sink faucet and brushing against the table. A recorder rested between them and she had a pen and notepad before her. Kon was still wearing his El suit, and he was wringing his hands anxiously under the table. He nodded shakily.

"There is nothing to be nervous about," She promised in a whisper. "I am not a lousy reporter and anything you say, you can take off the record. I will not print a single word that you don't like. Sound good?" He relaxed and nodded again, firmer this time. She clicked the recorder button. "Thank you so much for agreeing to this exclusive interview with the Daily Planet. We are all so excited to finally meet you," she added with a wink, and Kon giggled before he could help it, dragging his arms up and crossing them over the table. "Do you care to introduce yourself for us?"

He grinned widely, and leaned forward over his arms, feet swinging excitedly underneath him. “Sure thing, Mrs. Lane, My name is Kon-El,” he paused for a second, contemplating something in his mind until he admitted, “and I am the clone of Superman.”

“That is incredibly intriguing. What do you like to do with your free time?”

“I like to fly with Krypto.” Lois raised an eyebrow in silent question, and Kon added, "Krypto is a cape-wearing, cleverly-named superdog that I live with. Except, I'm being sarcastic on the clever part-I don't know if sarcasm will come across on print, but that part is important. Because it isn't really that clever of a name." Lois laughed, and Kon was filled with glee as he added, "I am sort of surprised my name isn't Krypter or something like that."

“Well, that sounds magical. Do you have a favorite television show?"

Kon smiled brightly and nodded, voice hurried as he reported with excitement, "Yes. Wendy the Werewolf Stalker. It's the best show there is, and Wendy is such a babe. Have you seen the way she uses that spiked bat? She can really tear some bad guys apart! That show is how I learned the leg-swipe move. But my cousin said it isn't really useful in a fight. But then I used it on her, and she agreed it was pretty awesome."

Lois was covering her mouth to muffle some of the laughter from the recording, obviously loving what she was hearing. “I’ll definitely have to give that show a watch. Favorite song?”

Kon hummed thoughtfully, placing a finger on his chin and looking up at the cieling. "Hmmm. That is sort of hard. I’ve listened to quite a few sons lately... Okay, either Nocturne in C-sharp minor by Chopin... or I Want it That Way by the Backstreet Boys.”

Lois grinned ear to ear, taking a sip of tea to swallow her laughter. “How interesting. What’s your favorite subject in school?”

“The bell ringing for dismissal,” Kon answered honestly with a sneaky grin.

“You sure are funny,” Lois remarked, chuckling. “Favorite superhero and why?”

He scrunched his nose and pointed at her, "You want me to say Superman, right?" She only shrugged and shook her head. He thought about the question, and his cheeks warmed when he realized he actually had an answer. "Okay, actually, not Superman. My favorite hero is Robin. He's cool and he works the night shift. Plus, he isn't super old like the rest of those coots."

He and Lois moved through several more questions before they neared the end of their interview. Throughout the entire time, they joked back and forth in attempt to make the other laugh first.

Finally, Lois stated, “We are very excited to welcome you to this world. What is next for you?”

Kon gulped, laugh stuttering in his chest and eyes growing wide with concern. He had no idea what was next for him-not after the interview or after the weekend or three years from now. He just didn’t know. He didn't know if he was supposed to keep fighting bad guys with Kara-he didn't know if he was allowed to after what happened. Now that it was apparent people were using other humans as part of a scheme to contact and control Kon, he felt wary of even stepping out of the house again. He couldn't allow more deaths to befall this world just to get his attention. But he still wanted to help.

“What’s next?” He repeated.

“Yes,” Lois responded gently, reached across the table to placing her hand over his, giving it a small squeeze for encouragement as she noticed his change in mood. “What do you want to do?”

Kon thought about this question hard. He remembered Jonathan telling him that Kents always help people-they never turn a blind eye to the badness of the world. And it was full of badness. Kon could hear people screaming for help from states over if he tried to listen now, because there were always people in need. He wanted that. He wanted to be reminded of that look of pure relief someone wore when he helped them or someone they loved, because that was proof that they were better in that moment than they had been just prior. But the Stinger had killed so many people,

“I don’t know,” he whispered.

Kon was awake and hanging off his bed late into the night. The clock on his dresser was showing past midnight, and he was staring with wide eyes at the floor. His mind was racing with thoughts of the Stinger and how Leech and Edge wanted to manage him and his image. Management, he knew, was just another word for control. He couldn't believe now that three separate people wanted to control him, and he was hardly over a month old in this world. He scoffed and rolled onto his back, staring now at the opposite wall and frowning.

A knock on the door shattered his thoughts, and he quickly sat up as Jon opened his door and walked right into his room.

“Kon, I can hear you moving around,” Jon complained before Kon could ask why he was awake so late. Kon’s jaw dropped. The more he stuck around the kid, the more proof he found that he was inheriting more than his dad’s eyes and hair color. “I’m sleepy, come on,” he demanded as he tugged gently on Kon’s shirt. 

"What is this, where are we going?" He whispered, allowing himself pliable while Jon pulled him out the room and down the hall. "Jon, we are supposed to be in our room, what are you-" His mouth snapped shut as Jon dragged him right up to Kal’s bedroom door.

Kon tried to sputter out a demand that this was pointless and ridiculous, and he didn't want to get in trouble, but Jon pushed the door open and warm light spilled into the hallway.

“Jonathan, what are you doing up?” Kal’s voice was soft in the late night, whispering because his parents were asleep in their own room, and Kon slowly poked his head in as Jon led him right into the room. Kon had seen this room during his first tour of the house, but he had not stepped into it since then. Kal was sitting up in bed, legs under the covers and reading a book in the soft lamp light. Lois was next to him and appeared to already be asleep. Kal looked behind the youngest and found Kon entering the room too, and his eyebrows were drawn together with worry. “Kon, are you okay?”

“Yes,” Kon snapped instantly. “I don’t know why he brought me in here. I was trying to go to sleep.”

Jon ignored the quip and brought Kon to the edge of the bed, crawling up on the mattress on his knees and pulling his brother until Kon was forced to sit down on the bed too with an eyeroll. Jon finally let go of Kon and turned to crawl into Lois’s arms, who’s eyes fluttered open to smile at him before they closed again. Kon was left sitting cross-legged at the foot of the bed over the mattress facing Kal, who leaned forward with hands clasped before him.

“Is something wrong?"

Kon frowned and ticked his head toward the other two occupants, “They are trying to sleep.”

“They are fine,” Kal assured him with a smile. “Those two can sleep through a hurricane. I’m a little jealous to be honest.”

“Don’t be too upset about it-Jon said he could hear me moving around tonight. I think he will be flying with us soon enough.”

Kal looked pleased to hear this, but his gaze remained on Kon as he asked again, “What’s on your mind?”

Kon's parent's bedroom wasn't the Fortress with the warm crystals, but the clone still found himself feeling comfortable as he settled in and slouched his spine. “I keep thinking about my interview. With Lois. She asked me what is next for me, and I don’t know the answer.”

Kal nodded slowly and hummed. “You don’t have to have anything planned out right now. You know you have a home and you are attending school. You know we will go to sleep tonight and wake up tomorrow for breakfast. You know plenty.”

“But with Kara and you-I don’t know. Do I still go and fight?”

“Do you want to?”

“Can I? I mean, even after what happened in San Fransisco?”

“Always. Our family always does what’s right. And if that is saving the world for you, then we will continue to do that. And if you need a break, then we will do that too.”

Kon bit his lower lip, head falling. "I'm... worried."

"I know you are," Kal whispered. "But you are safe. And we will figure out this stuff with Edge-we will expose everything they are doing and shut down the entire organization that is using criminals to bring young people like yourself out into the public eye. You've already had to suffer far too many people taking advantage of you, and I am very sorry for that. It will not happen again. We will not allow it. And Lois is a fierce journalist, she alone can create tsunamis to ruin them." Kon smiled at that, and he nodded slowly. He believed it. Kal continued, "I am actually glad you came in here. I wanted to talk to you about Hawaii-when we were about to get into the elevator. What happened?"

"I didn't want to be in an elevator with Lex, it reminded me of Cadmus," Kon answered easily. "That first time I was there, before I left and went to Gotham. It was just scary is all, and I didn't want to do that again." Kal nodded. "I am sorry Jon dragged me in here-he had some crazy notion that I should come in here even though it is so late."

He moved to slide off the bed, but Kal offered, "You can stay in here if you want. Jon usually starts kicking around three in the morning, but if you just say his name, he stops for a few hours at least."

Kon's face was warm. He had those foreign memories to show him the comfort someone else had felt at the opportunity to sleep in their parent's bed when they were sick or scared. Or sad. And he tried to pretend that he would never need that, because he skipped those early human ages entirely. But Jon was asleep with his face tucked against Lois's arm, and he sort of wanted that. He looked at Kal and waited. He didn't know what he was waiting for, because Kal had already offered he could stay, but he still felt like he needed more. And as though the alien could read his thoughts, he offered again.

"Come on, there is plenty of room," Kal smiled with a head tilt. "Come on up."

Kon swallowed and slowly crawled up the bed, until he was positioned between Kal and Jon, and he slid under the covers. He clasped his hands in his lap and looked at the door with wide eyes until Kal spoke again.

"Here you go," he whispered, handing Kon a sudoku book and pen from the bedside table. "Lois loves these puzzles. Do you know how to play?" Kon shook his head and Kal explained the rules. Kon spent the next ten minutes working puzzles while Kal read from his book. When Kon's eyes were crossing with exhaustion and the pen fell from his loose grasp, his eyelids slipped closed and he fell asleep surrounded by his family.

When Friday finally arrived, signaling the ending of another long week, even without the unfortunate distraction of school, Kon was pleased to discover when he spoke to Tim on the phone, that he would be staying with Bruce that weekend while he was going to be home alone.

Kon bounded down the stairs that morning and found Kal standing next to the kitchen table and drinking coffee.

"Can I hang out with Tim this weekend?"

“Tim?" Kal's eyes widened. "Is he going to be at his house all alone? Because if he will be home alone-”

“He’s not alone,” Kon stressed with a huff. “I already know that answer would be no; I wouldn’t even bother asking.” At receiving a sharp, tilted look, Kon clarified, “Because I would also be staying here at my own home all weekend. Obviously. Anyway. He’s staying with Bruce. Can I go and see them for a night?”

Kal considered this, sharing a glance with Lois, and he promised, “I’ll talk to Bruce about it.”

Kon had to promise that he wouldn't beg to go out on patrol with the bats that same night, he would go to bed on time and stay in his room, and listen to everything Bruce and Alfred said. When he agreed without reluctance, Kal granted him the sleepover and flew to Gotham with Kon in the evening.

Tim answered the Wayne front door with a huge grin and wide eyes, and they raced each other to the library, leaving Bruce and Kal alone at the door to greet one another. Alone in their privacy, Tim turned to him and reported with excitement, "Well, you sure are famous now. Everyone is talking about your super cool interview at the Planet... Krypter."

Kon's cheeks warmed. "You read that?"

"Of course I did! Am I really your favorite superhero?" He asked softly, smiling unabashed and inching closer to the clone.

Kon bit the inside of his cheek and blinked. "Well, I couldn't say it was Batman. He'd get an ego the size of the dinosaur in his cave."

Tim laughed loud at that, muffling the sound halfway through with a hand pressed to his mouth. When that subsided he took another step closer and noted, “Your hair is growing back." Tim reached up and gently tugged on his short strands behind Kon’s ear. The light scratch of his fingernails against the clone’s scalp felt tranquil and his eyes fluttered closed before he could help it.

“Guess you’re going to have to cut it again,” Kon whispered back and leaned into the touch.

Tim didn’t comment on the motion but he did continue to trail his fingers through his hair as he promised, “I can do that."

Alfred called them for dinner from a few rooms down the hallway, and the pair happily answered.

"We saw your interview in the paper, Master Kon-El. It was excellent, you should be very proud," Alfred noted when they were all seated before a plate of food. "Your picture was very nice."

Kon sat up straight and smiled in appreciation, feeling his chest swell at the compliment. He was excited when Lois asked him how he felt about taking a picture for his article, and he begged Kal to let him wear the leather jacket for it. The alien didn't mind at all, and the pictures turned out great.

Bruce slid the newspaper across the table to Kon so he could see how it looked on paper, and he leaned over the crisp print, pushing his untouched plate aside and skimming over the words.He already knew what the article said-not only was he the one interviewed, but Lois let him read it before she submitted it to the Daily Planet. Lois had said she needed him to spellcheck her work because her editor was lousy, but he already knew she wanted his permission to print the words she wrote about him. Kal and Lois both made it very clear before sitting down for the interview that if he didn't like how something was worded, Lois would change it.

Kon thought that was cheating, but Lois assured him it was honest journalism. And he liked honest journalism.

He finished the article and smiled to himself as he mindlessly brought a cube of baked potato from his plate to his mouth using his fingers. Kon chewed slowly as he turned the page, and he froze.

The article title stretched across the top of the page read: Former President of Galaxy Broadcasting System Found Dead

Kon blinked once, breath caught in his throat, and he read: Widowed father of one, Vincent Edge suffered a massive stroke yesterday at 6:30 in the evening. He is survived by his only son, Morgan Edge, who took over the role of president and CEO of Galaxy Broadcasting, WGBS, earlier this year. Edge refuses to speak on the behalf of his father, but he promises that the company continues to rest in safe and secure hands for the people of Metropolis and across the globe.

He only required a split moment to recall where he had heard this name before, and his breath hitched.

“Bruce,” Kon murmured, and he tried to ignore how the uncertainty in his tone caught the immediate attention of everyone at the table.

“Yes?” Bruce asked, but Kon was still working on swallowing at the unfortunate lump in his throat. “What's the matter?”

“Do you have access to the... Hawaii news?” Kon whispered, and Bruce raised his eyebrows with surprise. He nodded and stood up to retrieve his iPad from the library. Kon could see that Alfred wanted to deny him the distracting technology at the dinner table, but as he saw the worry sketched across the clone’s face, he placed a strong hand on the back of Kon's chair.

“Is something wrong, Master Kon-El? Do you have associates in Hawaii?” Alfred asked as Bruce returned to the table. The man placed the iPad in front of Kon, already open and showing the Honolulu Star-Advertiser.

He shook his head in response to Alfred and mumbled an appreciation for Bruce before scrolling along the screen. The room had succumbed to silence and Kon tried not to audibly gulp.

He found the article he hoped wouldn't exist, listed one day earlier and titled: Manager Found Dead at Office

Business associate and employer of WGBS Rex Leech was found by his daughter early this morning after suffering a stroke. He was rushed to the hospital but the providers were unable to save him from a confirmed ischemic stroke caused by a blood clot. 

Kon couldn't continue reading. He gasped and quickly stood up from the table, looking up from the iPad to find wide eyes on him from across the table. He looked to Tim, focusing on the bright blue eyes filled with worry as he murmured, “I gotta call Kal.”

“What is wrong? Are you in danger?” Bruce asked hurriedly, and Tim questioned, ”Do you need a phone?”

He shook his head to both questions even as his lower lips was stuck out in a small pout. He slipped out of the dinning room with the iPad clutched to his chest, and he fled from the prying eyes before staggering into the nearest bathroom. Kon shut and locked the door, closed the toilet seat, and sat down on the cold porcelain that seeped through his pants and sent chills up his spine. He laid the iPad on the mat in front of him. 

“Kal,” He whispered. “Can you hear me?”

And he listened hard. Moving past the racing heartbeats within the house was difficult, but as his range reached outside of the manor, he shuffled through the normal, piercing sirens until he passed the city limits. He squeezed his eyes shut and pushed to the state line.

“Kal,” he stressed in a breathy voice. “Where are you?”

He reached further and heard an evening soccer game with screaming fans, a back up of cars caught in traffic, and finally farm equipment.

“Kon-” he heard Superman’s voice and suppressed his own excitement at the success. “I hear you; do you need me there now? I’m on my way.”

“No need,” he assured. “I saw in the news though-did you hear about Leech? He... he died. Of a stroke.”

“A stroke?” The distant voice asked with as much surprise as Kon had felt himself.

“Yes, some time after we left. And there’s one other thing... Vincent Edge also died of a stroke. It’s in the paper today.” Kal was quiet and Kon strained harder. “I guess the first one isn’t really a surprise. I heard Leech’s heart when we were in Hawaii, and it sounded... heavy. Wait, not heavy,” he shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t know. But it was definitely weird,” he settled. “He sounded unhealthy. But Edge too? That’s sort of odd.”

“I understand what you mean,” Kal’s voice was hollow. “Do you want to stay there?”

“Yes,” Kon answered firmly.

“Okay. Thank you for checking in-and this is quite the distance you reached! I am very proud. Let me or Bruce know if you need anything, okay? I’ll go and speak to the families-see if I can discover anything. In the meantime, If you need to talk, let me know. Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Stay inside and be safe. I love you.”

Kon’s face was burning, and he scrubbed at his cheek with the sleeve of his sweater. 

Dabney Donivan told him that he loved the clone’s inquisitiveness. Jonathan told him it was impossible not to love him. Martha sometimes called him ‘love.’ But he’s only been told that someone loves him once, and it was during Kal’s statement in the Fortress when he spoke aloud that he wanted to be the clone’s father. And in the shock of the conversation, Kon realized now that he didn’t really understand it enough in that moment.

But he was hearing it again now, and his entire body felt full.

He murmured in a quick, hitched voice, “OkayIloveyoutoobye.”

Feeling dazed, he stood up from the toilet seat and stepped out of the bathroom silently, but he froze and his eyes widened when he found Bruce waiting for him on the other side of the door. The man was leaning against the opposite wall and Kon stood still, waiting for him to speak first. 

“You know the man that died?” Bruce asked in a voice that sounded akin to a statement. After a beat of silence though, Kon understood he was looking for an answer anyway. He nodded. “And did you see something else in the Hawaii news?”

He bashfully handed the iPad back over to the man, who held it at his side rather than pulling up the recently-used app. He was waiting for Kon to tell him, the clone noticed, and he chewed on his lip before whispering, “Leech is dead.”

Bruce’s eyes flashed surprised, but he remained still. “Leech is the man that hired the bounty hunter in San Fransisco?” A moment passed and Kon dropped his head as though he were the one in trouble. Bruce asked, “Do you want me to bring you back home?”

Kon swallowed heavy as he understood the strangeness of the offer. Kon could obviously be home on his own by the time Bruce buckled himself into his car. And Kal could swing by and bring his clone home before Bruce even finished his current exhale. But the offer meant more than that-it meant company. He shook his head because he didn’t want to be leave. It was uncomfortable for the men to have died so shortly after he met one and heard of the other, not to mention it had the feeling of an odd situation wearing the mask of an innocent coincidence.

“I want to stay here. The circumstances are just a little... weird.”

“Okay,” Bruce nodded slowly. “Then come back and finish your dinner. I promised Clark we would take care of you, and that means eating meals.”

Kon scrunched his nose as a sneaky grin spread across his cheeks. “You know, Superman doesn’t even need food. He uses the sun for energy just like a plant. I think he eats for fun and normalcy. And I’m basically just a copy of him.”

“But you don’t really want to insult Alfred, do you?” Bruce asked with his invisible smile, teasing as he guided Kon back toward the dining room with a hand hovering just over his back. “He’s really proud of his smoked brisket and potatoes.”

“He should be. They sure are award-winning,” Kon noted as they passed through the door frame, and Kon took his seat. 

Bruce and Tim sat with him at the table while he ate, even though they had already finished. Bruce sipped from a steaming mug of coffee and Tim leaned over the table to talk to Kon excitedly about the strange stuff he witnessed during patrol that week.

Kon emptied his plate and brought it to Alfred in the kitchen before Tim grabbed him by his wrists. “You should have mentioned you liked Chopin sooner,” he whispered with a smile and pulled Kon through the dining room and down the hallway until they entered a vast living room.

In the corner of the room was stationed a large, sleek grand piano. Tim released Kon and sat at the piano, straightening his back, and lifting his fingers to the shining keys. And Kon’s jaw dropped as his favorite song came to life right before him. The melody of the nocturne began, and Tim finished the first six chords before Kon found his voice.

“Tim,” he breathed, and he stumbled to sit on the bench next to him.

Tim smiled during the pause before he repeated the musical phrase. Kon stared at his fingers in anticipation at the next pause, and when Tim continued and reached the high trill, Kon gasped and slapped a hand to his mouth. He knew the magic Chopin wrote was recorded and could be repeated by anyone with the ability to read sheet music or had a magic ear, but Tim playing the song felt so surreal. A large tug on his chest radiated through his limbs.

He watched in awe as Tim’s fingers traveled along the piano, pressing gently into the wood to create the song that echoed throughout the room, and Kon felt that music embed itself into his chest. Soft, setting sunshine flowed through the window and gently illuminated the houseplants on either side of the piano. The light smell of dog danced at his nostrils as Ace appeared next to his feet. The dog laid down on his side and demanded attention by showing his belly, just like Krypto did. Kon reached down to scratch Ace while still staring at the living music before him.

“How did you do that?” He asked in amazement when Tim finished.

Tim shrugged, wearing a dopey grin. “Don’t get used to this. I’m not singing Backstreet Boys unless you pay me.”

Kon enjoyed the playful quip, but he couldn’t help to lean forward and request in a whisper, “Please play something that you like now.”

Tim stared down at the keys before deciding on a song, and he lifted his fingers to the piano. Kon asked for the name of the song he planned on playing, but Tim faced him, saying, “Listen to it first, and tell me what you think about.”

Kon nodded and moved off of the bench, sitting down on the carpeted floor next to Ace and closing his eyes while Tim chuckled with delight.

The song started out slow with sudden bursts of loud, higher notes that descended in pitch before ascending up the keys again. The decrescendos were accented by Tim huddling closer to the instrument, and the crescendos in turn were dramatized by Tim sitting upright again and pressing his fingers firmly against the keys. The melody was climbing in volume and goosebumps danced across Kon's skin as he watched with wide eyes. And the story struck him.

The song, he believed, had to be about flying. The rush he felt at the quick-paced, climbing excerpts created the same feeling in his abdomen that diving through the sky did. He closed his eyes and he thought of flying across the world with Tim-he remembered the warmth Tim's body provided when Kon brought him home after their visit to view the Northern Lights. He thought of Tim hugging his neck and sitting on his back as he flew high above the earth.

Tim ended the song with a soft chord, and lifted his hands from the piano as he turned to face Kon.

“It’s about flying,” The clone answered in a soft whisper, and Tim bit his lip to keep the grin from growing. "That is what flying sounds like in music."

“This is by Mendelssohn. It is part of a series called Songs Without Words.”

Kon leaned back and propped himself up with the palms of his hands placed flat against the carpet. He watched Tim with adoration and thought to himself that, like Mendelssohn, he really didn't have words for this either, because Tim was a song without words. His eyes were wide and his head tilted to the side.

“Beautiful,” Kon breathed and he didn’t know whether he was talking about the music or the person sitting before him.

Tim’s cheeks pinkened and he lowered his head bashfully.

Chapter Text

“So apparently we don’t have school for the rest of the week,” Kon stated with uncertainty staining his voice. He was pacing around his room, footsteps light as most of his weight was lifted into the air by his telekinesis and leaving the balls of his feet to brush softly against the floor. The landline was pressed against his ear, also held up despite gravity with the aid of his gift, and leaving his hands free to emphasize his points in front of him to the audience of no one.

Tim chuckled softly, the sound crackling lightly over the phone line, “Yeah, no kidding. The entire country is on Thanksgiving break now; it’s awesome.”

“They cancel school just for a bunch of food?”

“Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Any break from school is the best,” Tim reminded him, and Kon couldn’t disagree with that. “What ever happened with Luthor? Did Superman go confront him?”

“That horse saying doesn’t make any sense,” Kon tisked, but his skin felt prickly in warning at the question. “Kal visited him and asked about Leech and Edge both dying, but Lex just said-" and then he spoke in an exuberantly affluent voice as he mimicked Luthor, "that having a stroke is a horrible accident, but a natural cause none the less. And so how could he possibly give someone a stroke?" He paused to relish in Tim's laughter before he continued in a normal voice. "Which sounds like a fair general statement, I guess.”

“Do you believe him?”

“No chance in hell. The guy figured out how to make me after all, who’s to say he can’t come up with a way to kill someone by giving them a stroke? But Kal says there’s nothing we can do now. We even checked both of their homes and offices afterward, and we couldn’t find anything linking Luthor there, besides the fact that we were all three in Rex’s office.”

“Bats didn’t find anything when he looked either.”

“Spooky.”

“We won't give up though. If he did have something to do with their deaths, we will find it, and he will go to prison. Have you heard back from Lex about seeing your doctor friend?”

“No,” Kon huffed, flopping down on his bed and planting the bottoms of his feet flat against the wall over his headboard. “He’s taking forever on purpose, too. I just know it. I want to show up unannounced to piss him off, but Kal doesn’t like that idea.”

“Can’t blame him.”

“What, you don’t think I could handle it?” Kon challenged, wearing a smirk he knew Tim couldn’t see.

“I would just rather you didn’t try. We didn’t handle our own too well last time-”

“Conner!” The clone sat up at the sound of Martha calling his name from downstairs, mattress squeaking and a thunk resulting in his heels sliding down the wall and hitting the headboard. “Come on down.”

“You gotta go?” Tim asked, and Kon could hear the disappointment in his voice that matched the feeling tugging at his own chest.

“Guess so. But hey, before I do, after we eat a bunch of mashed potatoes or whatever this week, Jon says we are going to cut down a tree in the woods, because apparently that’s what humans do for holiday. Wanna come?”

“Cut down a tree in the-is it your Christmas tree?" Kon made an unsure, noncommittal noise in the back of his throat, and Tim chuckled before exclaiming, "Sure, that sounds cool.”

Kon felt his excitement soar. “Sweet, it’s a date! Bye,” Kon slammed the phone down on the receiver only a short second before his eyes widened tenfold and his mouth dried up. He sat up frozen and staring holes in the paint across from him. His face burned and his stomach squeezed with nerves. And did he just tell Tim it was a date?

Kon edged down the staircase, frowning in his descent and lingering at the base of the steps nervously. “Uh, Kal?” he started in a whisper, and the alien heard him from the kitchen.

“Yes?” Kal called back to him loudly from habit rather than necessity.

Kon grimaced and swung himself back and forth at the bottom banister. He was glad to be alone in the living room, as Kon was still feeling a little reluctant to face his family wearing the deep blush he could feel warming his face. “I sort of invited Tim this weekend without asking you first. If you don’t want him to go, that’s okay and I can-”

“That’s fine.” Kon jumped as Kal appeared next to him in the living room. “We would love for Tim to join us. Didn't you hear Ma calling you for breakfast? Why are you hiding in here all alone?” The alien pressed his palm to Kon’s forehead, and the clone scowled in defeat. “Come on and eat.”

Kon’s shoulders slumped. He wasn’t sure why he was so stressed about his accidental exclamation, and he was pretty sure it was a normal phrase that people used even when something wasn't exactly a date. He thought it could hardly be considered a date anyway since his family was going to be there the entire time, but he didn't know if Tim knew that too. Kon couldn't even begin to examine the fact that he sort of wanted this to be a date with Tim without the blush spreading to his ears, but that frustrating thought flicked at the back of his mind in an annoying reminder of its presence. Overall, he was hoping his parents saying no would allow him the opportunity to just take back his embarrassing slip-up.

He sullenly followed Kal into the kitchen and slid silently into his chair while Lois shot a concerned glance toward him.

They were halfway through the meal when a knock drew Kon’s pointed attention away from his plate. He insisted on answering the door, and he popped up from his seat before racing to the front. He quickly became enlivened as he found his cousin standing on the other side, and a smile graced his lips.

“Morning, cuz!” she sang out as she sauntered through the threshold. “I know it’s early but here’s your Christmas present.” Kara tossed him a quickly-wrapped package that clumsily smacked his face as he flailed to catch it.  “Go ahead and open it.”

He tore into the paper curiously as Kal greeted Kara and led the pair into the kitchen.

"Conner got a present!" Jon exclaimed, standing up in his chair, too eager to hear as his mother and grandmother both chastised him for the action. "Do I get one too?" he asked softly, leveling Kara with the sweetest, most innocent wide gaze Kon had ever seen. The clone rolled his eyes in response and sat down at the table as Kara answered.

"Of course you do." She gently handed the younger a wrapped package, and Kon frowned at her as he recalled his gift being thrust at his face just seconds before. She winked at him.

"Kara, you didn't have to do this," Clark stated quietly. "You'll still be here for Christmas, right?"

"Of course I will. But I know how impatient this one is," she nodded to Kon, who was gaping at the gift he held, "so I brought it early-a whole month early. And if Conner gets a present, then obviously Jon needs one too," she cheered and ruffled Jon's hair, who nodded eagerly in agreement as he pushed his Superman-themed toy car across the table.

Kon gasped as he yanked the heavy fabric beast from the wrapping, and the touch of the gray material against his fingertips felt like a crashing wave of comfort. He held it up and found the gift was a robe so similar to the one he found in Kara's apartment and decided he needed. He slipped his arms through the sleeves and pulled the robe tight around him. "This is the best present ever!" he declared with wide eyes.

“It’s only your first,” Kara corrected with an amused snicker. "But I know how much you wanted a robe, and after you came to see me-"

Kon cut her off with a hug. He wrapped his arms around her middle and lifted her off the ground in a squeeze, and Jon quickly jumped up from the table to join in while he proclaimed his own appreciation. After everyone finished their plate of eggs and sausage, something that took Kal several minutes of wrangling to accomplish in the excitement, Kon found himself upstairs in his room with Kara. He paced anxiously while Kara watched him with a raised eyebrow from her perch on his bed.

"Conner, chill. It's not a big deal."

"But I said the word date," he stressed in something akin to a whine. He shoved his fists in the pockets of the robe he still hadn't taken off and his footsteps quickened. "Why the hell did I say that? It's not even what this is and-"

"You're going to burn a hole through the floor," Kara quipped, and Kon stopped to look down at the floor underneath him, breath evening again as he wondered if it was even possible for him to burn a hole through the floor by walking. The distraction was enough though, because Kara jumped up from the bed and gripped Kon by the chin, dragging his gaze up to meet hers. "Do you want this to be a date with Robin?"

He shrugged her off and crossed his arms petulantly. "I don't know," he lied. "It was an accident to use that word, and I have never done this sort of thing before." Kon slid onto the mattress and scoffed up at the cieling fan. "I have all of these stupid memories from Cadmus in my mind showing so much... stuff. But I don't know any of those people that I see in the memories, and I don't know what all I should know. And I haven't done any of this before." He knew his sentences were so vague and Kara was likely confused, but he wasn't sure how to say aloud that he was completely lost. He knew so much, and he had seen so much through the visuals stored away in his hippocampus, leaving him completely aware of what his feelings for Tim meant. Kon felt aggravated because even in his own mind, none of it made sense, and he wondered if everyone felt that way when confronting feelings.

Kara quieted, and she slowly moved to sit on the mattress next to him. A silent moment passed before she stated, "That must be very confusing for you. You can always talk to any of us about this. Your parents, Martha and Jonathan, me. We can all try and help you sort through the mess." He smiled at the offer and murmured an appreciation. "As for this weekend, just take it one moment at a time."

Kon nodded; he felt he could do that.

The morning of Thanksgiving arrived quickly, and Kon woke up early to the smell of sugar wafting through the thin gap beneath his bedroom door. He pushed the blankets back and reluctantly crawled out of bed, stopping only to drape his robe around his shoulders and yawn largely before descending the steps. To his surprise, the kitchen was already bustling. Jonathan was wearing a stained apron as he rolled out pie crusts, and Martha was mixing a concoction that smelled of sweet fruit to fill the pie. Lois was multitasking between typing on her iPad and preparing green beans, and Kal was effortlessly crushing potatoes in a bowl. Kara sat at the table with her feet propped up in the adjacent chair while she shucked ears of corn, and Jon sat on the only clean square of the kitchen counter available, munching on a piece of toast and watching everyone work.

"Can I help?" Kon muttered reluctantly, rubbing at a sleep-crusted eye and squinting into the morning light that he wasn't prepared to face. He felt guilty to find he slept the latest-though with a quick glance to the stove clock, he found it was only nine in the morning-much earlier than he had planned on waking up considering he was on vacation from school.

Despite his blatantly sleepy face and reluctance to work, his family began allocating tasks that still required doing. Kon lazily slumped into the chair opposite Kara and groaned. Lois placed a rectangular glass dish in front of him and said, "This is for the green bean casserole. Why don't you read the instructions and start on that while I baste the turkey?"

Kon hated to admit that was a confusing statement because he didn't know what a green bean casserole was or what basting a turkey meant, but Kara leaned over and helped him sort through the recipe.

An hour into the preparations, Kon felt much more awake and he was happily listening to the chatter that filled the room when over the joyful sound he heard, "Superboy."

His spine became suddenly erect and he sucked in a shaking breath, because he knew that voice. He had been eagerly expecting communication from Lex Luthor since they departed from Hawaii, but he was surprised to suddenly hear the man calling for him from miles away. His eyes flickered over to Kal, who was watching the clone carefully, having heard the call himself.

"Come to Cadmus. You have three minutes. "

Kon winced. He should have expected Luthor would choose one of the most inconvenient times to decide he would allow Kon a visit with Donovan, but that didn't stop him from hopping up from the chair. At the movement, Kal replaced the bowl of potatoes to the counter and wiped his hands on his jeans. "Conner," he stated softly, though it still caught the attention of everyone else in the kitchen. "Do you want to go?"

Kon chewed on the inside of his cheek as he nodded. He really wanted to speak to Donovan, and it had been so long since he saw the first person to ever communicate with him.

"Go get dressed, and I will take you."

He sped upstairs to throw on his El suit while Kal stayed in the kitchen to explain their departure to the rest of the family. He was ready by the time Kal was also wearing his Superman suit, and they shot off from the front porch together, flying through the sky while Kal stated firmly, "I am staying with you, okay? I understand if you want privacy with the scientist, and I will give you that. But I don't want you alone with Lex."

"Luthor is just going to complain the entire time you are there. Why don't you wait on the roof and if I need you, I will call for you?" Kon suggested with a broad smile. "I can do this, don't you trust me?"

Kal grimaced, clearly not in favor of that idea. But he agreed as they neared the tall building. Kon hated the sight, mind spinning as he was reminded of the torturous moments he spent there, but he dragged Kal up to the roof anyway, and pleaded that he allow the clone some real privacy during his meeting-which was code for no eavesdropping. When he received Kal's reluctant agreement, Kon gave him a quick hug and stepped off of the roof. He flew to Lex's office window, so far from the ground below him and bringing back sour memories of his own departure from Cadmus through the very window. He tapped a finger against the glass and Lex approached, wearing a frown.

"We have a door," Lex reprimanded, even as he unlatched the window and allowed the clone to fly inside his office. "What, you didn't drag Clark along?"

"He's waiting outside." Kon pointed up at the cieling. "I didn't want to hear you two bicker."

"Aren't you the clever little problem-solver. Sit down." The demand was crisp, and Kon sat without complaint, facing Lex as the man took his own seat at his desk across from him. Kon's gaze flickered to the place Lex had pulled the kryptonite from so many weeks ago, and he wondered if it was still there. Waiting for him. He swallowed harshly as the man spoke. "If you want more visits with Dabney, including the one today, we will have to come up with some sort of agreement. Because that's fair. Right?" Kon opened his mouth to protest, but Lex quickly added, "You use my lab and staff, you should pay for it."

“I can just find Donovan's house and meet him there. Bypass you all together.”

“That’s a very dangerous threat to put on someone else’s head,” Lex tisked. “You sure you want to stick with that argument.”

Kon blanched. “No-” sir, sat spoiled on his tongue again, and he pursed his lips over it with satisfaction.

“You’ll meet him here, if you agree with my terms.”

“Which are?” Kon questioned with a frown, wondering if he should already call up for Kal. He believed the alien was true to his word and refusing to eavesdrop on their conversation, because if he had heard Lex request a special deal, he would had blown into the office by now with them.

“Occasional tests, check-ups. Doctor visits.”

Kon scowled at the thought and shook his head petulantly. He had enough tests during his time in Lex's capture, and he had no difficulty admitting he preferred the clean methods used in the Fortress where Kelex simply scanned him and gathered the information they needed. "I already have a doctor."

Luthor was prepared for Kon's hesitancy and stated, “No reason you can't have another one. Dabney can even be your pediatrician.”

The clone paused at that. He knew Donovan wouldn’t do anything horrible to him, like what was done to him in the lab earlier. And if Lex only wanted a few vital signs scratched across a page in exchange for Kon meeting with Donovan, he believed that sounded manageable. "Why do you need to do tests?"

"To make sure you are healthy," Lex answered easily. "You are out in this world, running about and interacting with human people. I need to make sure you are cleared to continue doing that."

“No tubes,” Kon demanded and Lex waited. “No IV or breathing tube or stomach tube-” The memory of pulling those out of his body during his escape felt hot on his mind, and he grimaced as he scratched at his abdomen.

“Of course. If you’re eating enough, those will never be necessary again.”

“None of the cold gel. No kryptonite,” Kon stressed, and his eyes jumped to the side again. "Definitely no kryptonite. No green necklace or steam or anything."

“Behave and we won’t need it.”

“Clothes on. I stay awake for all of it. Superman comes with me for the tests.”

“You have a lot of demands. Are you actually agreeing to anything I’ve asked?”

“Only normal tests. Nothing... that hurts. And I’m only in there with Donovan. None of those other guys in the white coats. And not you.”

“Dabney and me,” Lex corrected. “Nonnegotiable. Otherwise, there’s no deal. Nothing invasive though, and nothing scary.” Lex raised an amused eyebrow. "Cross my heart."

“You aren’t scary,” Kon hissed through his teeth, but the lie sounded bland even to him. "No containment tube."

“And, you occasionally have to perform tasks that I ask of you," Lex added thoughtfully, head tilted to the side as he expected a big reaction from this. He got it.

“What?” Kon asked, jumping up to his feet and holding his arms out parallel to the floor. “You never said anything about that before; what tasks?”

“I made you,” Lex reminded him easily. “And I made you specifically to replace Superman and work missions that are necessary. Nothing illegal, I promise. They will all be for the good of the world, and you can remain the good boy that you are.”

Kon slowly sunk back down into his chair, lower lip stuck out. “I have to agree on the missions first.”

The man leaned forward with a frown. “You’re petulant enough to refuse every single one of them just because I ask it. I know you better than that.”

“Fine," Kon muttered, and he crossed his arms. "Superman has to agree with the missions.”

Lex considered this. “If you want to run these by the alien, you can. But leave me out of that part. The less I have to see Clark Kent, the better. If you turn down a mission or test though, I turn down your meeting with Dabney. I can always find someone else to do the work, and you can stay home wondering what you would have said to your friend if you just accepted my request. Deal?”

Kon worried at his lip, thinking and considering. He wasn't expecting to haggle with Lex over his future in the moments just before getting to see Donovan again. But the deal seemed innocent enough, and if Kal thought the missions seemed sketchy, then Kon would just have to skip seeing Dabney for a bit, as Lex mentioned. He nodded firmly. “Deal.”

Lex sat back in his chair, appearing successful as he smiled. "Dabney is outside the office and down the hall. Fix your hair and stand up straight." He ticked his head to the side, and Kon took that as a sign to leave.

He stood up, slouched for show which resulted in Lex narrowing his eyes dangerously, and Kon left the office.

During his walk down the hallway, Kon suddenly felt reserved, shuffling his feet and holding his hands in a tight clasp behind his back as his thumbs tugged at the sleeves of his suit. He looked down at his uniform and wondered what Donovan would think of him-clothed in Superman's symbol and standing in Lex's building once again. He approached the end of the hall and listened to the beating heart waiting for him, a sound that was increasing as Kon's footsteps sounded closer to him.

“I’m so sorry about the last time we saw one another,” Donovan's voice started immediately before Kon even saw him. The man had appeared in front of him, standing closely but grimacing warily with grief. He was adorned in his white laboratory coat with a button up and slacks underneath, and his glasses were pushed up on his head to keep his hair out of his face. He looked as nervous as Kon felt, but it was mixed with palpable guilt. “Are you okay? Is your friend okay?”

Kon nodded slowly. He hadn't forgotten about the attack in the penthouse, when he turned around and found Donovan raising his tranquilizer gun to shoot Tim. But in the weeks that had passed between that event and this where he stood in front of the man again, Kon had long-since forgiven him.

In the clone's silence, Donovan held up his hand and waited for several seconds before Kon reluctantly lifted his own hand and pressed it against the man’s palm. The touch felt comfortable and familiar, and Kon relaxed, gracing the man with a small smile. Dabney released the tight breath he was holding, and he led Kon into the last room branching off the hallway before the dreaded elevator. The room resembled a standard conference room housing a long dark wooden table with several rolling chairs. The room was empty, and Dabney took a seat in one of the chairs. Kon sat next to him.

"You look great. That symbol really suits you," Dabney nodded at Kon's suit. "I read your article, and I thought you were excellent!"

Kon’s grin grew tenfold. “Thank you.”

"Oh," Dabney smiled and leaned closer, leaning forward on his elbows over his knees. "Your voice sounds good, it's not as croaky now as it was last time." Kon scrunched his nose, and Donovan winked. He remembered how his throat ached after the breathing tube, and his voice had stopped sounding scratchy weeks ago. He didn't miss that annoying pain. "Are you happy now? Living with your family and seeing your friends?”

Kon nodded and found himself sharing nearly everything with the man. He told Dabney about the condescending teachers at school, his interesting younger brother, his doting grandparents, and most excitedly, his name.

"Kon-El? It sounds wonderful. I am so proud of you."

"Thank you," Kon answered, abashed. "Superman gave me that name." When the man smiled at him in return, Kon leaned closer and whispered in the case that Lex was listening in on their conversation, "Thank you for telling Superman where I was when he came here looking for me."

"Superman was always going to find you," Donovan murmured back. "I hope you know that. Luthor is a genius, sure, but Superman is formidable. And he would always come for you." Kon couldn't help but smile at that. "Your family is good to you in Smallville?"

Kon nodded hurriedly. "Yes, we are going to eat a lot food today, and I was making the green bean casserole."

"Green bean casserole?" Dabney repeated as he laughed softly. "That's right, this is Thanksgiving, isn't it? You should be home then."

"I want to stay here with you longer," Kon stated clearly, and the truth of it tugged at hiss chest. He frowned, resting his cheek in the hand propped up on the table as he asked, "Are you sad that I don't live here?"

The question sounded ridiculous out loud, just as ridiculous as he knew the reality of it would be. But he still wasn't surprised when Dabney answered, "Yes. I am glad you are free from this place, but I am disappointed that I don't get to watch you grow up."

"You can come home with me," Kon insisted. "The farm is huge, you can stay with us!"

"Kon-El, it is miraculous that you developed such a loving heart despite your start in a place as rough as this. That is a very generous offer, but I have to stay here."

Kon visibly deflated, eyes suddenly becoming itchy and throat feeling blocked. The rejection burned in his chest, and he wished for Kal to hold him. The man reached out to ruffle Kon's hair, and the clone sighed as he said, "Lex says you're my doctor now. He wants you to do tests on me and make sure I'm healthy, I guess."

Donovan shook his head. "You should tell him no. You can leave this building today and never come back. That would be good for you, you know? You could finally stop looking back at this awful place."

"But he said I get to meet with you in exchange for that. You are the ones giving me the tests," Kon whispered in a small, sad voice. "And I know you won't hurt me."

"Of course I won't," Donovan insisted. "But-" His voice trailed away as he looked to the opposite wall and grimaced. Kon obviously wasn't going to change his mind yet, and the man knew it too because when he spoke again, he changed the subject. "I saw you in the news, working in Hawaii. You did an excellent job, why don't you tell me about that?"

Kon leaned forward, lighting up and holding his hands out in front of him to move around as he retold the story of his battle in Hawaii. Donovan thought it was just as exciting as Kon did, and he gasped during the appropriate parts in the story. Donovan thoroughly enjoyed Kon's pun about the iron, and Kon blushed with pride at that. Before he knew it, Kon was telling him about San Fransisco too. He recounted the looks on the faces of the people that he caught, and then the ones he didn't catch. His voice was near a silent breath by the time he told Dabney about the deaths, and the man lowered his head sadly in response.

“That’s horrible, Kon-El. I’m so sorry you were forced through that.”

"I am like ninety-eight percent sure Lex murdered the people who set me up for that, but we can't find any proof of it," Kon stated with a shrug.

The corner of Dabney's mouth twitched up in a bemused smile, and he quickly muffled it to shush Kon from talking about Luthor like that so close to his office. Kon didn't want to leave the conference room, but when two full hours had passed, Dabney reminded him that it was still a holiday, and his family must have been waiting on him to return and finish that green bean casserole.

"You are going to do fine. Don't be afraid to add a little extra garlic to the recipe, and it will turn out spectacular," Dabney smiled and reached forward to place a hand on Kon's cheek. "It was great to see you, truly. What a holiday for the both of us."

Kon chewed at his lower lip in contemplation before he jumped forward and wrapped his arms around Donovan's neck for a tight hug. Dabney hugged him back and hastily wiped at his eyes when they pulled apart. He stood up and led Kon out of the conference room.

"I will see you soon then?" Kon asked, "For a check-up, or whatever Lex has planned?"

Dabney sighed softly and nodded. "Yes, I will see you for your check-up."

With a farewell wave, Kon quietly moved over to the door leading to the staircase with the eager intention of avoiding a goodbye with Luthor. He wrapped a hand around the knob, and froze when he heard the order called to him from down the hall.

"Come here."

He turned slowly on his heels and huffed loudly with attitude to subtly cover up his disappointment that Lex caught him. He stalked down the hallway with arms crossed and a frown sketched across his lips, and when he entered Luthor's office, he was surprised to find Kal standing next to the man.

"I have something for you," Lex addressed the clone, and he held out a small black box. Superman frowned. The promise of a gift did peak Kon's interest though, and he quickened his pace to Luthor’s side as the man stated, “It’s a phone.”

Kal groaned. “Lex, no. If we thought he needed a phone, we would have gotten him one. But he doesn't need one yet. We don’t need your-”

"I need to be able to contact him," Lex interrupted, leveling the clone with an intense gaze. "It is pre-programmed with Donovan's number. And mine. I expect you to answer my calls always, based on our deal. Right?"

"Deal?" Kal growled in question.

"I have to have check-ups here, and I get to visit with Donovan," Kon explained quickly and Kal's face became red with fury. "You can come with me to every single test to make sure it's safe. And Lex promised no kryptonite." Kon turned back to Lex and asked, "What if I can't answer because of school?"

Lex considered this. "I will keep that in mind. And I said no kryptonite if you behave. You seem to need frequent reminders."

Kon ignored the jab, opting instead to press the home button on his new cellphone, and the screen came to life. "Rad," he murmured and pocketed the device. Kal led him to the open window, obviously eager to get Kon and himself away from the man.

“Happy holidays, Superboy.” Lex called out with a dismissive wave. “See you soon.”

Kon winced at the name and implication, but he waved back and dove out of the window just in front of Kal. The flight back to Smallville was quiet, until Kal finally insisted, "Conner, I need to know more about this deal you two made. I wish we had talked about it before you tried to make any arrangements with Luthor. And I will be taking that cellphone to Bruce to make sure it isn't rigged somehow." Kon agreed to both terms, promising to update the alien about the meeting and relenting his phone. "Did you have a good visit with Dabney?"

"Yes," he answered honestly with a smile. He had.

Before Kon could speed into the house, Kal stopped him and they sat together on the barn roof, listening to the chickens clucking and cows lowing underneath them. After he was prompted, Kon explained, "Lex insisted I go to Cadmus for periodic testing and check-ups, to make sure I am still healthy. He promised nothing will hurt and I get to be awake for everything, so he can't mind control me. I didn't want to agree to any of that, but he said I am not allowed to see Donovan ever if I don't agree to it. I even told him I could just go find Donovan without him, though in hindsight, I see that was pretty stupid on my part. He didn't like that at all." Kal sighed, lowering his gaze as he was deep in thought. "He agreed that you could come with me for all of the testing, if you want to."

"I will absolutely be coming with you. I shouldn't have let you deal with that alone; of course he was going to require more from you."

Kon shuffled uncomfortably and mumbled, "You'll really hate this then. Lex is also requiring that I go on missions for him."

Kal did hate that. His head snapped up quickly and he leveled Kon with a wide-eyed, intense gaze. His voice boomed and there was a flicker of fire as he demanded, "No."

"But Kal-"

"Absolutely not. Why would you even consider agreeing to that?"

"Because Lex said he won't let me visit Donovan anymore if I don't do this," he protested with a yelp, sitting up on his knees and matching Kal's watch with a desperate one. "He even agreed that you can know about every single mission, and that you have to okay them first. But I still want to see Donovan, and this is the only way I can do that without Lex hurting Donovan." He leaned forward, planting his hands down on the rough-textured roof. "Please."

Superman appeared pained at that. "He gave you this as an ultimatum?" Kon nodded. "Of course he did. I want you to have the opportunity to see Doctor Donovan, and you deserve those fun visits. But I do not like what Luthor is asking of you in return. We need to talk about this more, okay? I am not saying no..." A flicker of hope flashed across Kon's eyes and he smiled widely. "But, I am not saying yes either. We need to talk about it more, with Lex. After the holidays, okay? Can you give us until after the holidays?"

Kon nodded. He couldn't imagine Lex would call for him until then anyway. Kal was clearly distressed though, and that brought on a tugging guilt to Kon's chest. He reached forward slowly and hugged Kal, hoping this would help the alien sift through the unfortunate knowledge he was now burdened with. He wasn't trying to add unnecessary stress to a holiday that was already very loud from what he could hear inside the house. To his relief, Kal hugged him back tightly with a hand placed comfortably at the back of his head. When they stood, Kal led him inside the house and they were greeted with excitement by their family.

Thanksgiving passed by with too much food and plenty of conversation across the table. Jon showed Kon how to make something he called a "mashed potato volcano' ("To keep the gravy inside!" The younger insisted) and Kara threw a roll at Kon when nobody else was looking, smacking him in the face and falling to the floor, where Krypto discarded the evidence without needing to be asked. They praised the green bean casserole, and Kon grinned toothily at that. When the sun set hours later, the house quieted as the clean up began, and Lois found Conner and Jon napping on the living room couch with the Charlie Brown special playing on the TV.

The weekend arrived and Kon was excited to see Tim again, his deal with Luthor completely forgotten about in the moment. Bruce still had Kon's cellphone, even though the clone tried to inform them all that Lex obviously already had trackers on him, so putting them in a cell phone would only be a waste of time, but they wanted to be thorough. So he called Tim on the landline again, and they discussed the details of the day. Tim asked if he needed to bring anything to help cut down a tree, and Kon found this funny, quipping back, "Since two Kryptonians are going, I am going to assume... no." He was smirking, and Tim was laughing.

Tim was home alone for the weekend, after he celebrated the holiday in his own house, and this made it easy for the alien and his clone to pick him up and carry him to Smallville. He was welcomed by the family as they were loading up the truck, and Martha heated up a plate of leftovers for him to eat for lunch. They rode in the truck, Lois and Clark in the front while Kon and Tim were huddled in the back seat with Jon squished in between them. Kon sort of wanted to lay in the bed of the truck again, but the colder weather and the several items covered under a tarp in the bed prevented that as they rode away from the farm.

The woods smelled of fresh, clean air, and the brisk, biting wind was thankfully blocked by the cluster of trees between which they stood. The adults led the way, with Jon riding tall on Kal's shoulders while he pointed out interesting birds. Tim trudged alongside Kon, clad in Kal's old work boots and Jonathan's extra winter coat as he was not dressed for hiking. Kon asked him where his boots were when they arrived to pick him up in Gotham, and Tim had stated with a straight face, "I live in New Jersey. We don't hike here."

“This one!” Jon exclaimed, sliding down from Kal and jumping up to a tall pine tree reaching seven feet tall. He wrapped his arms around the trunk with glee and patted his gloved hand against the bark. Kal was holding an axe and Kon furrowed his brow, stopping.

“Isn’t this... bad?” the clone asked, peering up at the tall tree. "You told me we have to pay attention to collateral and property damage when we are fighting someone. And this is cutting down a tree."

“My parents love the smell of real pine trees. They have always had real Christmas trees,” Kal answered gently, facing Kon as he explained. "It is something they always brought me to do when I was young, and we have kept it going even while they felt too uneasy to come out here in the woods."

“But-" Kon began, then faltered. He didn't mean to disrupt any implemented holiday traditions.

“Come look at the babies,” Jon exclaimed, pulling Kon by his wrist away from the tree and back to the bed of the truck. He pushed the edge of the tarp back and revealed several sapling plants separated in plastic tubs. “I plant these with Mama while Dad cuts down the Christmas tree. Wanna help me?”

The arrangement seemed fair enough, Kon thought. He looked at the one tree they would be taking back to the house for Martha and Jonathan, and then he looked down at the thirty they were going to plant in its place. Jon distributed the trowels and saplings to his brother, mother, and Tim, before grabbing the tools for himself all while explaining that they come back during the weeks of beginning growth to watch over the tree-watering it if needed or making a shelter for it in a storm, all until it was big enough to thrive on its own. Before they could begin their first dig, Jon called for attention and relayed the rules of how deep and spread apart they needed to be planted while Kal turned back to the pine to hide his amused smile.

“And be careful with the roots,” Jon stressed. "That's the most important part, see the squiggly parts here?"

Tim answered that yes he saw the roots while Kon knelt down and watched Kal cut down the tree. It was a task that could so easily be accomplished in a matter of a millisecond, but he was working slow and careful to allow his family precious time planting trees before he helped them.

A shuffle of leaves drew Kon's attention and he turned to find Tim huddling close to his side, low to the ground and perched on his haunches. Tim scrunched his nose at Kon while the clone shoved his trowel into the cold ground and he accused, "You forgot to mention there was manual labor involved in your holiday, huh?"

Kon chuckled softly and shoved at Tim's shoulder playfully, but just a hair too hard as Tim stumbled to regain his balance on the balls of his feet. Kon winced and caught him with a hand wrapped around his arm. He still needed to work on that part. "Are you regretting coming?"

Tim bit at his lower lip and answered with a grin, "No."

Kal bounded the tree to the truck with thick ropes before he joined the group and helped plant the remaining saplings just as the wind became stronger. He reached over and tugged Jon's hood over his head while everyone else followed the example. The ride back to the farm was quieter because Jon was exhausted from the work, and he fell asleep with his head pressed against Tim's shoulder while soft Christmas music played on the stereo. Kal asked Tim questions about his Thanksgiving, classes, and vigilante work, and Kon watched him speak with a soft smile.

Like magic, Jon seemed to know the exact moment they hit the dirt path leading right to the farm, and he woke up bouncing in his seat with excitement for decorating the tree. "This will be so much fun!" He shrieked at Kon, and the clone winced at the volume. The truck was hardly at a stop before Jon unbuckled his own seat belt and shoved Kon out of the door. Martha and Jonathan were waiting for them, waving excitedly and guiding the family inside the warm house while Jonathan moved to untie the tree.

The house was live with movement, and Kon and Tim sat at the kitchen table out of the way to watch. Martha fetched the boxes of decorations from the basement and Jonathan stuck a bag of popcorn in the microwave. Kal carried the tree inside to the cleared spot in the corner of the living room, and Lois pulled leftovers from the fridge while she asked for a headcount of the people who were hungry. When the appliance first beeped, Jonathan pulled the microwave door open and poured the popped kernels into a large bowl before handing it off to Jon. The youngest bounded into the living room with Kon and his guest in tow, and he climbed right up next to Kon on the couch.

"Kon, we can string the crannies and popcorn," Jon demanded in a shrill voice while Martha handed him a bag of cranberries and new string. "Watch me, I'm good at this part," Jon pressed his arm against his brother's and held up the roll of coiled floss. He picked up a cranberry from the ripped bag resting on the cushion and speared the needle through the rough fruit, pulling it along the string. He then picked up a piece of popcorn and repeated the motion until three pieces of popcorn sat between the first cranberry and the second he added. "See how pretty it is?"

Kon carefully slipped a raw cranberry in his mouth and bit down, immediately grimacing at the tart taste while Jon and Tim giggled at his expense. Jon pushed a piece of popcorn between his brother's lips before offering some to Tim and eating a handful of popcorn himself. Despite the harsh flavor, Kon put another cranberry in his mouth and chewed while he strung more patterns of candy along the floss.

Tim moved to sit on the carpet next to the tree and he pulled out a fresh package of decoration. He tore it open and draped a handful of tinsel on the naked tree before him, and Kon stood up to string the foot-long cranberry-popcorn decoration right above it. Jon's jaw dropped.

"You can't do that yet," he stressed, jumping off the couch and snatching the string and sparkling silver material from the branches. "This isn't done yet," he emphasized to Kon, before turning to Tim, "And this is at the end-haven't you done this before?"

“No,” Tim and Kon answered simultaneously, before turning toward one another and snickering. Tim muffled his amused smile behind a hand and shook his head at Jon, flashing wide, innocent eyes.

"Why?" the youngest stressed.

Tim answered with a shrug, “We don’t really celebrate this.”

"I didn't exist last year. I just became alive a couple weeks ago," Kon snorted.

Jon was appalled, mouth open wide and eyebrows furrowing with confusion. Before he could retort with startling passion reflected behind his eyes, Kal simply suggested from the kitchen, “Jon, why don’t you show them what to do? Like you said you would, right?”

The little one dragged the ornament box closer to Tim and directed him to check the large bundle of tangled lights while he sifted through the handmade ornaments. Kon winked at Tim over the top of his brother's head and he continued stringing berries and popcorn. Martha came into the living room and flipped through the radio channels in search for Christmas music to play on low volume, and Kal strolled in with more popcorn for the tree.

They all wrapped the lights around the tree before Jon divvied out ornaments for everyone to hang on the branches. As they approached the bottom of the box, Lois picked up something wrapped in tissue paper. Kon watched as she dropped the tissue into the box and appeared next to Kal, who was leaning against the entryway frame. She held up the glass piece of greenery above the both of them with a grin, and he bent down to kiss her.

"What's with the weird plant?" Kon asked, nodding toward the pair.

“That’s mistletoe, Conner,” Jonathan explained, holding up another piece of the glass plant from the ornament container and unwrapping it carefully. “You’re supposed to kiss someone under it. Like this,” he bent down and scooped up Jon in his arms while the child squealed and struggled, kicking his feet out even while he laughed loudly. Jonathan pressed a kiss to his cheek and returned him down to his feet while Jon scrubbed away at the invisible mark.

“Your beard is too scratchy,” Jon accused with a challenging grin on his face.

“I’ll show you scratchy,” The older man quipped back with a matching expression as he ran a hand through his scruff. His smirk grew and he chased the younger around the room with arms outstretched resembling a zombie, resulting in Jon screeching with glee. Kon watched the entertaining show before him, and his chest swelled as the telekinesis buried inside him warmed his body, radiating down to his fingers and toes.

When the tree was finished and Martha placed a red hat at the very top, Jon joined his parents in the kitchen for a dinner of leftovers, leaving Tim lying across the couch on his stomach and Kon sitting on the floor, leaning on his folded hands resting over the arm of the couch right next to Tim's face. They were listening to the soft music on the radio and watching the twinkling lights of the tree, feeling comfortably exhausted. The joyous laughing in the kitchen became a lulling background hum, placating the pair.

"Good evening to all of you cool Christmas cats out there," the man on the radio crooned softly. "The holiday season is here and bringing with it a cold front. Light the log in your fireplace and stay warm with a blanket while you listen to The King of Rock and Roll, Elvis Presley coming up next..."

A low voice filled the room as Presley sang out about the Blue Christmas plaguing him, and Kon's ears perked up when the soft drums and choir accompanied the man's voice. He turned his head to watch the radio speakers and he hummed deep in his throat, a vibrating tickle radiating to his tongue and becoming louder in volume with effort as he tried to match the note Presley sang. Kon's lips parted slowly, allowing the light noise to escape, and for the very first time in his life, Kon sang.

Tim snapped his head up and he looked at Kon with wide, surprised eyes. Kon held the note, out of pitch, and he looked back at Tim with an equally shocked expression.

Kon knew about singing, technically knowing how to do it, but his body hadn't done that yet. The sound was wavering next to the notes coming from the radio, still just a hair flat despite his efforts, and Tim opened his own mouth before he produced a note too. Kon watched the formation of Tim's lips and mirrored them in shape as he tried to match the note. Tim nodded and hitched his pitch just higher to the next. Kon followed as his eyebrows drew together in concentration. Tim showed him two more notes, and then when Presley sang, "You'll be doing alright//with your Christmas of white," Tim started over and repeated his slow climb in pitch, showing Kon how the phrase fit into the music. And Kon loved it.

The song ended, and Kon could feel the heat in his cheeks and chest as his gaze was glued to Tim's, who was rendered speechless. The third rendition of Jingle Bell Rock played next, and Kon returned his chin to his arms as the pair looked back at the glowing tree, both feeling the tingling of telekinesis that floated through the room in his burst of overwhelming feelings, tapping away at the ornaments of the tree and tickling at the wall.

The peaceful quiet was interrupted when Jon was told to get ready for bed. He stopped in the living room to hug Kon and Tim, wishing them both a goodnight and asking to play more in the morning as soon as he woke up while he embraced them around the waists.

"I wish I had a sibling," Tim breathed minutes after Jon bounded up the stairs and the room succumbed to silence. Kon turned to him and was faced with stark sadness.

"You can borrow him," Kon nudged Tim's side, drawing a chuckle. "He's a brat and he talks constantly... but sometimes he lets me play his Mario games, so that's pretty cool."

"I like being here," Tim admitted with a small smile, facing Kon and lounging back in the couch. "Everyone is so happy here."

"I like you being here," Kon stated immediately, before quickly revising, "We all like you being here."

The pair watched late-evening shows while eating dinner leftovers before they retreated up the stairs. Tim disappeared behind the bathroom door to shower while Kon paced around his room, unsure what was keeping him so antsy until he realized that he kept peeking toward the staircase. He feigned confusion as he climbed back downstairs and walked around the empty living room. His gaze kept jumping toward the table, and he purposefully snapped his head up at the cieling instead. He saw what was resting on the table, and he even remembered Jonathan lowering the glass to that spot while chasing Jon around the room. He paced more until he heard the shower turn off above him, followed by a small shuffle in the bathroom signaling Tim changing into his pajamas. Kon admitted defeat, and silently bent down to pick up the glass mistletoe, moving it slowly between his fingers.

He thought of Kal kissing Lois, and the grin she wore just before. He thought of Jonathan kissing his grandson on the cheek. And he thought of those few memories he had stored away-belonging to someone else about kisses he didn't experience with people he would likely never meet. But they were similar to those he had seen on television, and he wanted it. Tim was walking back to Kon's bedroom now, and the clone sucked in a deep breath.

Kon floated slowly up the stairs and walked down the hallway, moving silently right up to Tim, who was sitting up on the bed against the headboard and watching Kon curiously. Tim's hair was wet and sticking up in places, the sign of suffering through the wrath of a towel, and he smelled of soap and soft laundry detergent. His appearance only quickened Kon's footsteps, and he placed the glass in Tim's hands without saying anything. Tim's eyes were wide as he looked from the mistletoe up to the clone, and he was wearing an unreadable expression even while Kon scrutinized him.

“Have you ever kissed someone?” Tim finally asked.

“No," Kon answered briskly, and the only sound between them was the light buzz of the heat running through the house above them. Kon was holding his breath.

Tim blinked, kneading the glass between his hands. “Do you want to?”

Kon’s face was burning with nerves. His heart was pounding a percussive scream in his chest, beating against his ribs and threatening to burst. His mind was racing and if Tim claimed he could see the worries sketch out across the clone's face, he would believe it. Kon thought about how he could so easily lie and say no, he had no interest in kissing right now. He could say he found the practice archaic and foolish-using a glass plant like that as though it meant anything besides a lame excuse to kiss someone. Kon could say that he had plenty of opportunities to kiss other people, like the girls from school, Roxy Leech who held his face and squealed about how cute he was, and the countless people he had saved thus far that wrapped their arms around him in appreciation. He could lie.

But he didn’t want to.

Kon nodded.

Tim's fingers fumbled with the glass plant, still turning it around between his fingers while a blush spread across his cheeks and ears. He slowly laid it beside him on the mattress and inched his feet toward the edge of the bed. Kon lowered himself until he sat on the mattress next to Tim, blinking in surprise as Tim leaned forward. Kon met him in the middle, moving slowly, and his eyes fluttered closed as his lips pressed against Tim's.

Sound vanished around him, seemingly hidden beneath a thick cloud as all he could focus on was Tim and the sweet burning of his own chest. Tim's mouth was warm and Kon tasted the remnants of toothpaste, sharp and chilling mint in contrast on the tip of his tongue.

Tim pulled apart first, biting down on his lower lip and giggling softly with eyes averted. “That was...funny.”

Kon's breath caught in his throat. He had no idea what could possibly by funny at that moment, especially when he really wanted to lean forward and kiss him again. But Tim was still blushing furiously, eyes lowered and pulse thumping loud in Kon's ears, so he leaned back and feigned feeling relaxed with a wide grin.

"Hilarious," Kon agreed.

Tim watched him with wide eyes as Kon slipped out into the hall, moving toward the bathroom to shower and brush his own teeth. His mind was racing as he scrubbed shampoo against his scalp, and his skin was on fire as he dried off with a towel. Kon bit back a loud groan, wondering why he did this-why he didn't just lie about what he wanted. He should have ignored the stupid glass mistletoe and left it downstairs alone where it belonged. He closed his eyes as he imagined Tim frowning at him, telling him how kissing the clone was so funny and horrible and ridiculous and-

He pulled on his pajamas and walked back into his room, startling as he found Tim standing up and waiting for him while wearing a desperate expression.

Tim looked so nervous, and he was wringing his fingers anxiously in front of his abdomen. "That was really good," he spoke in a dead whisper, and Kon felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle at the admission. "We should do that again."

Kon grinned, shoulders relaxing and fears dissipating as he moved a hand toward the light switch, diminishing the overhead light and leaving the soft yellow glow produced from the lamp. The pair laid together in bed and watched the cieling, neither of them under the covers as they felt warm with nerves enough without the extra help. The hour ticked later before Tim finally spoke first.

"I'm really your first kiss?" Tim asked quietly.

"Yes." Kon felt the other shuffle, and he turned on his side to find Tim facing him with a shit-eating smirk. “What is that face for?" Kon demanded as Tim only snickered proudly. "Who the hell would I have had the opportunity to kiss before you? Lex Luthor? The deformed bodies in the tubes next to mine?”

“Ew, that’s disgusting," Tim insisted, wrinkling his nose and draping an arm over his closed eyes.

"You’re disgusting,” Kon shot back, rolling onto his stomach and propped up on his elbows, leaning over Tim with a fond gaze.

Tim bit his lower lip as his arm fell away, and he watched Kon's mouth for just a moment before he pushed up to press a quick peck there. When he fell back to the pillow, cheeks red with a renewed flush, he retorted, "Okay, but what about people from your school? Like those people I met at the festival? I find it hard to believe that you've seen all of those people and-"

Kon rolled his eyes and dipped his head to press his lips against Tim's smile once more, swallowing his words and sighing softly.

He loved the holidays.

Chapter Text

Kon woke up first the following morning to a room bathed in golden light from the rising sun. He heard his father and grandfather outside, both chatting away as they worked in the barn. Lois was in the living room with Martha, and Jon was still resting in his bedroom. The warmth of another person greeted him, brushing up against his arm and leg under the blankets, and he rolled onto his side to peer through heavy lashes at Tim’s sleeping face beside him. His chest felt full at the sight and a wave of contentment filled his body until he felt the sticky fingers of his telekinesis rattling the decoration on the wall beside of his bed. Without looking, he knew the sound came from the picture frame he had been gifted from Tim, and the memory brought him solace. A small smile spread across his lips when Tim’s eyes finally fluttered open, and he watched affectionately as Tim squinted in the abrasive light.

“Good morning,” Kon breathed, gazing fondly at the hazy, blue eyes that met his.

Tim bit his lip and whispered back in a voice hoarse with rest, “G'morning.”

The pair ate a breakfast of Thanksgiving leftovers with the Kents, both wearing matching blushes that nobody else seemed to notice-or at least had the decency not to comment on, but Kon was hoping for the former. They were thankful for Jon’s incessant chatter allowing them their bashful silence and keeping the attention of the adults. Kon was still thinking about their kiss, replaying the moments in his mind on a loop, and based on Tim's color and quiet, he assumed he was thinking about it too.

The following month passed by in a blur of bustling business. Tim celebrated Hanukkah with his family over the following days, and Kon finished his first semester of school before his family started taking him Christmas shopping in shifts in Metropolis. He thought it was sort of boring, especially because he didn't have any money to buy anything anyway, but Lois always bought him a pretzel at the mall, and Jonathan always distracted him by making silly jokes. Occasionally Jon joined them too, and that was also a pleasant diversion as he dragged Kon to every toy isle and pointed out the most difficult LEGO sets to make. The deal with Lex Luthor sat patient on the back of his mind, waiting until the holidays had ended. Kal didn't bring it up yet, and neither did Kon.

Christmas Eve arrived with the company of a light dusting of snow, and Kon was excited to find that day involved the family each opening one present together.

“They are pajamas,” Jon whispered in Kon’s ear with a sneaky smile after they gathered in the living room that evening. He was close enough for Kon to smell the sweet hot chocolate on his breath and soap in his hair from his bath. “These are always pajamas. Then tomorrow after Santa comes we get to open the really cool presents.”

Kon discovered his brother was right. He picked up the box decorated with shiny, winter paper and a tag containing his name scratched across in blue ink: Kon-El. Folded neatly inside the box was a cotton pair of pants and a long-sleeve shirt decorated in repeating prints of Christmas trees and colorful lights laying over a red background. He blinked in surprise when he found the rest of his family unwrapping outfits matching his own.

“We wear these tonight and tomorrow for presents,” Jon informed him, holding his own set of pajamas up to his chest as he jumped up to his feet.

Only moments later, the family sat together in the living room, clad in matching pajamas and watching ‘A Christmas Carol’ on the television. Krypto, wearing his own red and green sweater, snuggled close to Kon on the couch, snoring loudly while the clone scratched behind the dog’s ear. Kon looked down at his chest again and thought about how silly it was for him to be wearing the festive outfit like the rest of the group, but it also brought color to his face as he realized that the tradition rang out with a word he found to enjoy more every day: family.

This was emphasized when they took a picture together in front of the tree, one that he knew would be framed and hanging by the stairs before the new year. The movie ended and Jon begged Kon for a sleepover in his room. He agreed to this and even held still while Jon clambered behind him on the couch to cling to his back. The weight of his brother was comforting and his arms wrapped around Kon's neck were warm, and he saw the way Lois and Kal watched dotingly. Kon floated upstairs hovering just over the steps while his brother squealed with excitement to be flying.

They laid in bed together and listened late into the night because Jon insisted his friend from school swore they heard Santa land on their roof the previous year. The clock struck midnight, a chime that Kon heard rise from the lower floor, and a small jingle sounded from above them. The foreign sound was crisp against the peaceful night, and Jon gasped at Kon with wide, blue eyes as he clambered up onto his lap to lean in close.

“Conner, he’s here,” Jon whispered in a shrill voice, obviously trying so hard to keep his words low in volume despite the overwhelming excitement. “It’s Santa.”

Kon was alarmed and he sat up quickly, pushing the blanket off of his chest and catching Jon with a leg wrapped around his back as he perked an ear toward the ceiling. The bell rang again, soft against the light wind that tickled the shutters. He was only a breath away from tucking his brother safely away in the closet and igniting the fire behind his irises, but he heard a soft voice speak out-words only meant for his ears.

“Play along,” Kal said with a small chuckle, hidden up on the roof.

Kon blinked, lowering his gaze from the ceiling to Jon, who was gape-mouthed as he stared up.

“Wow,” Kon murmured slowly. “Must be... I don’t know-a Rudolph or something, huh?”

“Absolutely. We have to go to sleep right now,” Jon instructed in a serious voice, flinging himself off of Kon and flopping down on his side of the bed, forcing his eyes closed though it was clear he’d rather race outside for a better look. “Close your eyes and pretend to be asleep or Santa will leave.”

Kon rolled his eyes at the bossiness, but he settled back down anyway and his eyelids slipped shut as Kal whispered an appreciation, “Thank you for your help. Goodnight, son.” Kon fell asleep with a smile blessing his lips.

A jolt startled Kon awake the next morning and he found Jon jumping on his bed, squealing about how the day had finally arrived. Christmas greeted Kon with the harsh screech of bed springs and soft sunshine reflecting off the blanket of snow and streaming into his room between the curtains. Jon slipped when the clone rolled over and he fell with his knees digging furiously into Kon’s chest, resulting in both boys crying out.

The day moved uphill after that.

The preparations for their Christmas dinner was similar to that of the Thanksgiving one, though this time Kon wasn't called away by Lex Luthor and he was in charge of making the mashed potatoes. Kara came to the house, wearing her own set of pajamas that matched theirs while she balanced a tower of gifts in hand. Streaky hovered close to her heels, startling Krypto with her presence, and a chase ensued as the volume of chattering increased tenfold. The family ate dinner together before Jon herded everyone into the living room with eager excitement for presents.

The collaboration of the twinkling lights strung around the cieling and the decorated tree cast a warm light across the room. Several stockings hung from the mantle, something that hadn't been there that morning, and Kon grinned widely to find he had one too with his name stitched across the top.

“I get a sock too?” the clone asked softly, and Lois wrapped two comforting arms tightly around him, pulling him close in an embrace.

Kon pulled out the candy and socks that were tucked in his stocking, and he chewed happily on a piece of sugary gum while turning to the presents under the tree. The glow of Christmas lights illuminated his smiling face, and Kara took pictures while Kal handed out the presents. Kon's first present was lumpy and sealed using far too much tape and successfully hindering a speedy unwrapping. He found a black t-shirt housing the House of El symbol printed across the front in red.

“I picked it for you!” Jon announced happily, in case Kon couldn’t tell by the way the package was wrapped. Kon loved the shirt.

Before he was finished relishing in the warmth of the holiday, it ended and left the taste of sorrow embedded deep in the back of Kon's throat. In the winter bliss of the season, he didn't realize how much time he was granted to spend with his family until that was set to change. Two days after Christmas, Kon listened to the sound of wheels rolling against the floor followed by a long zipper ringing from his parent’s room. He stood silent and hidden at the end of the hall next to his bedroom door and peeked into the open room. Jon sat on Lois's bed next to a large suitcase while she tucked their clothing into it.

Kon eavesdropped until a gentle hand rested on his shoulder, startling him and gathering his snapped attention. Kal offered a smile but waited patiently until the clone was ready to speak first.

“Where are they going?” Kon whispered.

“Lois is going to celebrate Christmas with her father for a few days. He lives in DC.”

“With Jon?” he asked, and Kal nodded. Kon’s gaze fell as he added a sorrowful statement disguised as a question, “But not me?”

Kon didn’t even know Lois had a living parent, much less one that she visited during the holidays with her son. He knew Kal’s human parents really well, not just because he lived with them but because they asked him questions and eagerly wished for his opinion. He played cards with Martha after school and strolled around the farm with Jonathan when the weather was nice, and throughout their time together, they became closer. Discovering Lois had a father led him to wonder why he wasn’t permitted to meet the man yet. Kal appeared pained with eyebrows furrowed and eyes mournful, which was as much of a confirmation as the clone needed. He shuffled uncomfortably until Kal gently led him out of the hallway and toward Kon’s open bedroom door.

“I’m going to be honest with you,” Kal started as he closed the door. “And I want you to listen to me all of the way through, okay?” Kon shrugged, and Kal accepted that as close enough to agreement. “Lois and I agreed that we don’t want her father to know you exist yet.”

“That’s... very honest,” Kon whispered, pulling back and crossing his arms over his chest. “Ouch.”

“Please listen. Sam isn’t a very patient man. He has always been really hard on Lois, and he expects a lot of me-specifically for this country because he is military and he knows what I can do. The man only knows about Jon because Lois being pregnant for nine months wasn’t really something we could hide. And he is constantly hounding us about him, asking if he is showing any signs of having abilities or advancements. He doesn’t know about the little things Jon can do yet, and we are keeping it that way, but he still insists on keeping an eye on him. And with you, someone who already shares Kryptonian gifts as well as associations to Lex Luthor-I am just not ready for him to know about you. I don’t trust him enough for that, and I believe he would just act as another person trying to take advantage of you. Do you understand?”

Kon chewed on the inside of his cheek. He supposed that did make sense, and he sort of felt better knowing Kal didn’t enjoy the man’s company either. It wasn’t lost on him that Kal trusted Martha and Jonathan to know he had abilities, something the pair discovered immediately when he floated after meeting them. If Kal didn’t want Lois’s father to know, Kon understood that must have been based on solid reasoning. He nodded.

“Why aren’t you going with them?”

“I’m staying with you instead,” Kal answered. Kon wanted to retort that he was fine to stay home alone with his grandparents as he had done before, but he was quieted when Kal added, “I want to stay here with you. Sam is kind of a jerk to me at baseline, and he’s really angry now after I helped a few European ambassadors last month during a tornado. Besides, you and I can spend some time at the Fortress. Wouldn't that be fun?”

At that moment, Kon heard the soft sound of a high-pitched whine leading into a muffled cry coming from down the hall. He recognized the sound as his brother’s crying, which was typically expected while living with a six-year old child. Kon’s brow wrinkled in sorrowful confusion as Kal explained that Jon had started crying after Lois delivered the sad news that his brother wasn’t joining them on their trip.

Kon gazed up at Kal with misting eyes and a pushed-out bottom lip while they listened to the tormenting sound of Jon crying. Lois was quick to console him with promises of a short trip and more presents with his grandpa, but his cries only successfully waned down to a small hiccup.

They met in the kitchen where Lois kissed the top of Kon’s head and guided Kal out of the house, pulling the suitcase behind her. Jon peeked his head around the frame and looked at Kon with sheepish, leaking eyes. The clone grimaced at the open misery and held his arms out for his brother, who jumped at the motion and ran to meet him. They embraced as Kon thought about how content he felt being around his family. It wasn’t a luxury he was expecting to relish in after waking up in the cold, unforgiving gel solution.

Kon boxed up the decorations with his grandparents, leaving the tree there until their New Year’s bonfire and performing his farm chores. Only a couple days later, he and Kal celebrated the arrival of the new year at the Fortress flying through virtual Krypton and watching fireworks light up the sky from around the world. And finally, Lois and Jon returned to Smallville in time for their bonfire.

His brother screeched his name as he jumped out of the car, and the clear evidence that his brother missed him so severely in their absence brought a smile to his face as Jon tackled Kon into the snow. He announced fervently that the only reason he fell backwards was because Krypto stood behind him and tripped him at that moment, and although that was technically true, he couldn't ignore the loud hint of advanced strength the kid had.

One of the most exciting gifts over the weeks out of school was when Kon finally got his new cell phone back from Bruce with the promise that it was free of traceable trackers and explosives. The man offered his own number in the device alongside a guarantee that he could reach out if needed. He also added Tim's number, even though the clone still had that scratched out across a piece of paper in his room. Kon called Tim on his phone that evening, and he was delighted when he received his very first text message.

Kon was lounging peacefully across his bed and typing away at a message for Tim when the screen suddenly changed and a new name was sketched across the top along with a hidden phone number. Lex Luthor, the bright white letters read as the ringtone sang out.

“Hello?” Kon asked tentatively as he answered. He could feel his stomach drop and his face color with nerves, and he hoped Kal was not listening in on his conversation from miles away.

“Superboy. You remember our deal? I’ve sent you the coordinates to respond to as well as the details. Call me back when you have completed the task.”

He frowned as the line clicked and silence befell the phone. A mere breath passed before his phone chimed and he found the task Lex was asking of him-his very first task from the man who was now provided with the opportunity to dictate Kon's movements. The sickening irony dawned on him that by following Luthor’s instructions, he was willingly acting as the puppet he so loudly refused to be. He held his breath between grit teeth as he read Luthor’s message asking him to-

Save a feisty cat from a tree in Wisconsin.

Kon squinted at the screen, pulling it closer to his face and rereading the message, again and again until he couldn’t pretend it didn’t request that he rescue a cat who was stuck in a tree.

Kal wasn’t home then, meeting with someone in Metropolis for work with Lois, and Kon reasoned with himself that he didn’t want to bother him. After just a push for honesty, he could admit that he also didn’t want to hear Kal tell him no when his meeting with Donovan depended on full cooperation. So he responded with a thumbs-up emoji, hoping the juvenile text would piss off the man, and then he changed and zipped out of the window. He would simply tell Kal later.

The rescue was easy and the young owner jumped up and down with joy and tears in his eyes. He watched the child bring the cat back into his house before lifting from the snow-splattered grass and floating up into the sky. Kon stopped by the clouds and called Luthor, who answered on the fifth ring right before Kon was about to hang up.

“I rescued the cat,” he announced with a hint of attitude coloring his words.

“Did you make the little kid happy?”

He was surprised by the benevolence in the question. “Uhm, yes. I guess so.”

“How heroic. You’re finished for now; go home.”

Kon blinked. “Okay, but what about seeing Donovan? Can I come there now?” Kon really wanted to tell him about the holidays, about how warm they made him feel and how much he enjoyed his brother’s pesky company.

“After just saving one cat from a tree? Absolutely not. Surely you didn’t expect such low standards from me, did you?” Lex paused for a dramatic moment, and Kon stayed quiet. “Fly back to Smallville and wait for my next call.”

“But Lex-” he whined, and the line clicked as the man hung up. Kon huffed in aggravation, shoving the cell phone in his jacket pocket and hissing, “Asshole.” He shot off, fists clenched and brows furrowed as he traveled home.

Luthor’s first several requests were easy to follow and so obviously innocent-seeming in intention: clear up the garbage from the beaches in Greece, put out a small block fire in Peru, and repair a busted dam in Europe. When Luthor asked him to deliver three thousand cases of water to the earthquake victims in Chile, Kon couldn’t help but ask why.

“Why do you want me to do this stuff? It seems... small?” he asked in a hushed voice as he stood in Luthor’s office with fists plants on his hips. Kal still didn’t know about the tasks he was performing for Lex after school, and Kon didn’t want to risk catching the alien’s attention by raising his voice. “It feels like community service. I thought you’d ask me to..." he swallowed harshly and shuffled uncomfortably while Lex waited with a frown. “To hurt people.”

The man tilted his head to the side, a sly smirk settled on his lip. “Do you want to hurt people?”

“No,” Kon snapped.

“Then deliver the water. Or are you forfeiting your visit with Donovan?”

“I’m not forfeiting anything,” Kon assured him hurriedly. He tried to keep the panic and begging from his voice, but it colored his words without his permission. He had yet to suffer through a check-up or test, and he hadn't been granted a meeting with the scientist.

“Then go.”

Kon peeled away from the table as Lex’s gaze returned to his work, but he paused by the window to ask, “Will you actually let me see Donovan this time?”

“Go.”

Luthor’s first call requesting Kon fight someone came with a mighty incentive. He was asked to answer the cries for help a few states away as a low-level armored man with a ray gun was threatening to wreck havoc alongside his menacing troupe. But Lex added professionally that after the mission, Kon was required to report to Cadmus for his first check-up with Donovan. Kon considered calling Kal and asking for his opinion since this one involved fighting someone who was trying to harm people, and he was still bothered heavily by his battle against the Stinger. But with a promised visit on the line, he didn’t want to risk it. He reasoned that Kal was busy working with the League-a weak excuse as he was promised he could always contact Kal for anything. But Kon knew Kal would discourage him from going.

“Can I bring my cousin?” he finally asked Luther. “For back-up."

“I don’t care how you get the job done as long as it’s finished.”

Luthor hung up the call and Kon sped over the fields and cities until he reached Kara’s apartment. They sat in her living room together while Kon fumbled with his thoughts and thumbs. Streaky smelled his hair for several seconds before deciding on laying across his lap and closing her eyes. A sickening sort of guilt had planted its flag in Kon's stomach since the beginning of his agreement with Lex Luthor, and he was looking for someone to speak to about it.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Kon asked. “And you swear you won’t tell Kal?”

Kara snorted at the clone and waved her hand. “Who do you think you’re talking to? Would I ever betray your trust like that and tell on you to Superman? Absolutely not.”

“I sort of struck a few deals with Lex lately without telling Kal about it first. Nothing big-obviously, but a few things here and there.”

Kara’s eyes widened at the admission. “Okay,” she murmured slowly. “Maybe I will be telling him about this.”

“Kara,” Kon yelped, slapping his hands against the arms of the chair. Streaky glared at him in distaste and made a show of moving to sit next to Kara instead. He hardly noticed as he felt his stomach drop with nerves. “What the fu-"

“Kidding,” Kara protested with palms raised. “I mean, I think I am. But why are you talking to Lex without running it by Kal first? Last I checked, you were pretty wary of him, yeah?”

Kon winced at the memory of his first meeting with Kara, something that had gone so well until he saw the name come across her phone and he accidentally shot a hole in the barn roof with his laser vision. His face turned red at the blaring knowledge that Luthor's name occasionally came across his phone now, and it was Lex calling rather than his kinder sister. “He promised I could see Donovan after this one.” His voice was soft and borderline bashful as he whispered, “I haven’t seen him since Thanksgiving. I want to tell him about Christmas and the bonfire. And he hasn't made me do anything bad yet-I would say no to that."

Kara sighed in consideration before reluctantly agreed to help him, and they landed together at the scene of the fight, working in practiced unison to rescue bystanders and fight the cackling villain and troupe.

“You’ve been acting pretty strange lately,” Kara noted, landing a mighty blow to the man. They were only a few minutes in the easy battle when Kara began talking to Kon like they were still at home in her living room. “Even during Christmas, you seemed a little absent sometimes. And that was before you decided to become Lex's dog. Is something on your mind?”

"Kara!" Kon hissed, ducking around the villain, mouth wide with surprise. His cousin simply cackled and promised she was joking. "I am not his dog. But I have been meaning to talk to you about some stuff." He rammed his fist into the chin of the man. “He came with us to get a tree, and we decorated together.” Kara knew to whom he referred, and noted that it sounded fun. “It really was. The lights were super cool and you know, the ornaments. I ate a cranberry for the first time.”

“That’s great, Kon,” she stated honestly, and the clone’s chest pounded with anticipation at his next admission.

“I also kissed him.”

“What?” Kara shrieked, spinning toward him with wide eyes. Kon bit back a grin as he lunged forward and clambered one someone's back. “You are telling me this now?”

“What, are you busy or something?” Kon quipped with a smirk as he dodged a throw. "No time for Luthor's dog?"

“You’re funny,” she deadpanned. “A real piece of work, in fact. We are talking about this later.”

The rest of the fight was quick in Kara's haste, and after the group of men were handcuffed and waiting on the sidewalk for the authority to arrive, Kara suggested a treat. They found themselves sitting on the chilly roof of a Dairy Queen eating blizzards, sharing between the fruit flavor Kara wanted the chocolate Kon ordered.

“So what, are you two dating now? Like boyfriends?” Kara asked with her mouth full and tilting her cup toward Kon.

“I don’t know,” Kon admitted, shoveling more ice cream in his mouth and tightening his jaw at the uncomfortable brain freeze. "We didn't really establish anything after that."

“You need to ask him.”

Kon scrunched his nose at the thought, but he finished his food, thanked Kara for her help and company, and flew toward Cadmus for his very first check-up with Doctor Donovan as a free clone.

***

“Hi.” Kon smiled bashfully. “I think we should talk. I wanted to tell you that I... that I really like you. Like, like, I mean. And I want to date you. Because kissing was fun and I’ve missed seeing you.”

He blinked, stunned at his own ridiculous rant. Kon stood alone in the bathroom, facing the large mirror and practicing his speech for Tim. “Nope, that was a train wreck.”

He closed his eyes and shook his arms with a long, exasperated groan. Kon lost track of how many minutes he stood there attempting to formulate some sort of understandable expression of his feelings. “Okay. Hey'a, Tim-nope, that already sounds childish.” He rubbed his hands across his face, before trying again. “Tim, I wanted to talk to you-I’ve thought a lot about our...”

Kiss. 

The word vanished on his lips as he thought of Tim’s warm mouth against his own. He gulped and stared into his reflection in the mirror with a gaze akin to stupor at the memory. Everything he wanted to say was coming out sounding so lame, and he ran his hands through his hair in frustration win a groan.

He threw the door open and trudged down the steps to eat lunch with Lois. Kal was out shopping with Jon and Martha while Jonathan was visiting friends in town, leaving Kon alone with Lois. He preferred the quiet house while he was stewing in his anxiety-ridden thoughts. He stirred his spoon aimlessly in the bowl of soup before him while Lois quietly sipped at the sweet-aromatic coffee she held. She was reading something relating to work on her iPad.

“Honey, do you want something else?” she asked him while she tapped on her phone next. “You aren’t really touching that soup. I can make you a grilled cheese or a salad. I think we have leftover spaghetti from last night.”

“Uhm, no thank you,” he murmured as he continued to stir the liquid and blatantly ignore the concerned look Lois gave him. Several quiet seconds passed between the pair, as marked by each tick of the clock on the wall until he whispered, “I kissed Tim.”

Lois blinked several times, and Kon kept his head ducked. “Oh. Oh. Okay.” She turned her phone around and laid it on the table, turning toward Kon who stared into his soup. “Do you want to... tell me about it?”

Kon nodded quickly, dropping the spoon and holding his arms underneath the table while he looked at her with a desperate gaze. After his interview he had become even closer to Lois Lane, and though he felt needlessly embarrassed to talk about these feelings with someone, he felt relieved that he was alone with her during it.

“It was after Thanksgiving, when he came over.”

Lois was trying to muffle the small smile tugging at the corner of her lips, hiding the amusement behind her hand, and Kon felt bashful heat flood his face.

“That’s wonderful.”

“He played the piano for me. And I like him... a lot.” He slumped lower in his seat, cheeks burning as he bit down on his lip.

“Do you know how he feels about you?”

“No. He’s the one that offered to kiss me first., and he did it the second time too. But I don’t really know how he feels. Kara told me to ask him, but I don’t want to sound lame.” He complained, rubbing at his face. “And I keep practicing what I want to say, but it always sounds lame.”

She laid a gentle hand on his shoulder and leaned in close. “I know you are feeling a little nervous about this. And I’ll bet he’s probably feeling something a bit similar, hm?” Kon shrugged. He had no idea what Tim was thinking. They’ve talked over the phone but he hasn’t seen him since the weekend they got the tree because the holidays had been so busy for both of them. “Maybe you can start by asking him. Communication is never lame, babe, and you might like what he says. I may have some practice at putting words together for concision; I think the two of us can think of something you can say, huh?”

The week progressed smoothly and Kon rotated his time between school and home, thankfully not hearing from Lex since his check-up with Donovan. By the following Saturday, Kon received a text from Tim passively admitting that he was home alone after being hurt on patrol. Kon only considered his situation for a brief moment, noting that he wouldn't likely be caught because he finished his dinner and excused himself long before receiving the message. His father wasn't home, and Tim was hurt. He zipped across the sky with his sight set on the horizon that led him toward Gotham City, and in a blink he was outside of Tim’s window. He felt a stabbing sense of guilt in his chest, and he looked down with a grimace. He had promised Kal he wouldn't sneak out of the house anymore, especially late in the evening and moving across states. But that was muffled tremendously when he saw Tim.

He was surprised to find his friend wincing from his place in bed. His eyes bared the smallest hint of pain as they were red-rimmed from previously shedding tears. Kon tried to paste on a wide smile for his unknowing host and he lightly tapped on the glass. Tim's attention shot up to the window, and his eyes widened to see Kon there. He waved him inside, and Kon slid the window up.

“Hi,” Kon whispered as his stomach felt full of soaring butterflies just by seeing Tim again. He was clad in a large sweater that swallowed his arms and basketball shorts, lying down over the covers with messy hair sticking up like it had the night of their kiss. Kon's knees felt weak. Despite the pain he was in, Tim managed an honest smile in return. Kon slipped in the room and listened for a brief moment to verify that they were alone in the big, quiet house. “It’s been a while since I've seen you.”

“Yeah, not since-" Tim began, voice flittering away with a flush. But Kon knew the next words.

The kiss. He had not seen Tim since the morning after they kissed in his bedroom, just after breakfast when they had to bring him back home. Kon couldn’t ignore the incredible urge to rush forward now and cup Tim’s face between warm, careful palms. He imagined surging forward and pressing his lips against Tim’s as he sighed against his face with satisfaction. But he froze at his spot by the window as the younger sat up slowly and hissed out in a wave of renewed pain. 

“What happened to you?” Kon asked carefully, wringing his hands.

“I took on a rogue, and they kicked my ass,” Tim answered flippantly. “Come and sit down. It's really not that bad, just a few scratches and sore muscles. I promise, this is really mild.”

Kon silently followed the order, moving toward the bed as though the floor were made of cracking ice and sitting down gently. Tim reached for the glass of water on his bedside table while Kon's gaze fell down to Tim’s bare legs, stuttering at the view of a poorly-stitched cut over the right shin.

“This looks a little shaky,” he noted, pointing at the poor black thread resembling Frankenstein. “Kal taught me how to do this. Can I? I promise it'll leave the faintest scar possible.”

Tim nodded, taking a drag of water through the straw and replacing his cup to the table. Kon lifted Tim's leg up and shuffled his own body before replacing it over his lap, acting as careful as possible despite Tim muffling a groggy whine. He looked exhausted and Kon wondered with a wince why he ever thought talking about his feelings could be appropriate during the night that Tim was hurt. But Tim looked at him with the most beautiful eyes, color emphasized by the recent cry, and his lips were red from biting at them, and-

And Kon was distracted. He blinked and focused on the question he was being asked as he snipped at the knot and unthreaded the stitches.

“Why would Superman teach you about stitches? You don't need those."

“He didn't teach me for me, he taught me for you," Kon answered distantly, eyes widening on Tim's face when he realized the implication behind his statement. He cleared his throat and clarified quickly, “You, as in you humans. You all are always getting cut. Just last week I had to help someone who tripped on a bunch of rocks at the beach and scratched up their arms. Pretty embarrassing if you ask me."

Tim hummed in response but bit down on his lip again as the sting of the needle plagued him. Kon swallowed.

“What’s wrong?” Tim asked through grit teeth as Kon pulled a stitch through his skin. “You’re frowning a lot.”

Kon finished tending to the scratch and tied off the thread, snipping the loose ends near his skin. Another scratch caught his eye, this one high on Tim’s thigh and partially covered by the shorts that rode up while lounging. He waited with a soundless offer until Tim nodded reluctantly and pulled the hem up higher, exposing the cut in its horrible glory. Tim had attempted two whole stitches there before discovering the pain was too much and stopping to apply adhesives instead.

Kon removed the Steri-Strips with great care while Tim clenched his jaw closed in grief. He cleaned, dried, and numbed the sting with whatever pain medication he could find throughout the house before starting in on it. The aid didn't stop fresh tears from springing to Tim's eyes, and he quickly closed them to avoid the embarrassment altogether. Kon found this despairing and decided he was ready to answer Tim's question in an attempt to capture his attention from the pain.

“I’m just thinking,” Kon whispered. Luckily, the clone felt several aspects of his life were still under construction and causing him pause, so he had no difficulty reaching for a reason behind his more solemn mood. “I’ve made a few... strange choices lately that I didn’t really run by Superman.” He took a moment to explain his deal with Lex Luthor in slow detail while he stitched up the scratch with gentle hands. He didn't miss when Tim's eyes slipped back open, but he kept his head low in hopes to not bring attention to it. “So I'm sort of working with Luthor, I guess," he ended, frowning harder at the thought and piercing the needing into Tim's skin, eliciting a yelp that slowly morphed into a whine.

“Kon, that hurts.”

The clone’s fingers faltered, and his gaze rose to land on Tim’s eyes that were watering with pain. “I’m sorry,” he whispered and tied the stitch. He gently placed his hand on Tim's ankle, an area free from trauma, and he rubbed small circles with his thumb into the skin until he saw Tim's shoulders fall down with relaxation. The other small scrapes were considered mild enough to heal without the aid of thread, and he carefully returned Tim's leg to the mattress. “You're all cleared by the doctor.”

Tim snorted. “I can't wait to see the bill for this house visit.”

“I'm sure I can comp this one. No scratching,” he reminded with a wink before stretching out next to Tim, laying on his stomach and propped up on elbows.

“I'll try,” Tim reported honestly, and a startling seriousness clouded his eyes. “Why are you working with Lex Luthor?”

Kon's spine became rigid at the name alone, and he felt cold goosebumps tickle his skin. “It's an arrangement we made...” His voice fell away before Tim nudged him with an impatient elbow. Kon grimaced but told the truth to the person with whom he was closest. And Tim listened intently. It became clear at the end of his retelling that Tim did not have a magical answer like Kon was hoping for. Tim didn't even have the words to express his opinion on the matter, and he remained quiet, watching Kon with despondent eyes and a slight pout on his lips that formed when Kon relayed Lex's threat to hurt Donovan. Kon wished to reach out to his mouth, but the time seemed to be tainted by his unfortunate news, and he hated to be the ruin of his own good time. He decided he could still make Tim laugh again, and he eagerly changed the topic to state, “As much as I hate the name Superboy, and I really, really hate it, maybe it’s best to use in the field, because Kara used my real name a few days ago, and I think it is way too close to my human name.”

Tim bit back a grin, obviously happy to talk about something else. He buried his head in the pillow as he asked, “You think someone will find every Conner in the world until they get to you? How many Conner’s can there be?”

“At least fifteen, right?”

“Definitely,” Tim giggled against his hand. “That might buy you some time. But you may be right. All they have to do is match the name Kon with Conner, and then look for your inconspicuous haircut and boom. They have you.”

“Yikes." Kon leaned closer. "Okay. So I think I should find every single Conner in the world and give them all the same haircut as me. Maybe slow the baddies down a bit, huh? I can do all of that before they get to the second Conner at least.”

Tim moved closer. “What if you are the first Conner?"

Kon tisked his tongue and dipped down lower, grinning widely. “Bad luck, then.”

“Shame. And how will you find every Conner?”

“The phone book.”

“Perfect plan,” Tim watched him with fond, tired eyes. Kon couldn't be sure, but he thought he found the same desperate wanting there that he felt too. “Thank you for coming. And for helping me. You didn’t have to do that, but I really appreciate it.”

“I’m sorry it hurt,” Kon whispered back, inching his face closer.

Tim's gaze flickered to Kon's lips and came back up as he answered. “You don't have to apologize for anything. You did me a huge favor; I couldn't get this one," he admitted, tilting his head down and Kon understood he was referring to his thigh. He winced sympathetically. “Is it okay that you are out here so late?” Tim asked in a whisper, and Kon shrugged. “I don't want to piss off Superman. But I am really glad you came here. I missed seeing you.”

Kon's brain begged him to quip back and make light of their conversation. He even knew he could tell Tim that the person he really needed to worry about pissing off was Lois, and that would even earn him another sleepy giggle. But Kon looked down at the pillow underneath him and inhaled deeply, holding the breath there for a moment before understanding that the tug in his chest was begging him to be more honest. “I actually came here to talk to you about something. It's a little embarrassing though, I was trying to come up with a way to say it all and I even talked to Kara and Lois, but I couldn't really figure that out. Well Lois helped me figure it out a little, and I wrote it all down, but I didn't bring that here with me, so I am sort of running blind here. And I'm ranting, I know. Here it goes. I have been thinking about this a lot and I was just wondering if-”

A loud chime from the cell phone in his pocket rang, and Kon's brave, hopeful expression fell. Tim watched him with surprise as Kon pulled the phone out and glanced down at the screen. He had been hoping it was just Lois calling to ask where he was and when he was coming home. But as though the man knew he was in the middle of something important, Lex was calling. His heart pounded in his chest, residual from his close admission, and renewed again with the fierce urge to answer the call.

“Look, I have to get this...” he murmured and jumped up from the bed, pressing the phone to his ear and stepping toward the window.

“A man going by the name Icicle-and yes I am sure you can guess his abilities based on that, but please save the puns for after we are finished speaking-he's attempting to freeze and collapse the bridge in Brooklyn. It's late, but I'm sure Clark won't mind this good deed, right? Apprehend the man and call me when you are finished.”

Luthor hung up before Kon could respond. He turned slowly and flashed Tim a regretful frown, feeling guilty as he slid the window open.

“Be careful with Luthor,” Tim breathed, eyes frightened and wide as he sat up quickly, the pain seemingly forgotten.

“Of course,” Kon promised, gaze falling at the warning as an unsettling weight fell in his chest.

Chapter Text

Kon-El was freezing.

The night’s fight was still fresh and piercing like the sharpest jolt of mint. His skin burned like licking fire after repeated blows of icy, uncomfortable chill. Even using his telekinesis during the battle, the man going by the title Icicle still managed to hurl crisp, bone-chilling slabs of ice that burst with impact on Kon's body. Cyrokinesis. The word sprang to life in Kon's mind after the first hit startled him to a pause, and he was forced to act with strict precision after that. The battle was short, but he suffered several clusters of ice that the man formed from his fists, connecting to his face and suit like stone. Kon's teeth chattered now and his head felt heavy as he rested on a canopy over the door of the apartment complex he fought in front of. Icicle was propped up by the building beneath him, snoring loudly in the forced slumber delivered by Kon's hands. The clone wanted to finish his conversation with Tim, he wanted to finally be honest and admit that he thought about kissing Tim often, but he pulled out his phone and tapped on the screen with shaking hands until he was calling Lex Luthor.

“G-g-got hi-him...”

“You’re stuttering.”

The man's voice was more cutting than the glacial shivers of the clone's bones. Kon swallowed.

“It-i’s-I’m c-cold.”

“Who could have imagined. I don’t remember you marking down a susceptibility to cold on the physical report during your last doctor’s visit.”

“W-w-whoops,” Kon responded lazily with a smirk despite himself. It’s true that he left a few vital pieces of information out during his medical meeting with Donovan. He didn't mention that he felt the heat from the apartment fire on his skin so many months ago, or the slight breeze he felt to his bones while he visited the Fortress of Solitude with Kal. He knew those blemishes to his genetics were Lex's fault anyway-coming from his side of the DNA-and keeping it a secret allowed Kon to feel like he was still in control of the check-ups, even without Kal present.

“The press is on their way. Don’t you want to talk to them?" The clone remained silent for a pause, and Lex continued, "You have conveniently left every scene without waiting for press or the authorities-like a criminal vigilante. That doesn’t sound like you.”

“C-can’t st-stay,” he answered shortly. Even if his jaw didn’t feel like it was being wired shut by the cold rippling through his body, he really didn't want to explain that he needed to leave before the cameras arrived because Kal didn’t know about his secret rendezvous comprised of doing whatever-the-hell Lex ordered at any possible time. News footage that showed Kon working in his Superboy suit would be wildly incriminating.  “It’s la-late.”

“Interesting.” Lex's tone seemed genuinely curious, and Kon knew he wasn’t planning on truly dropping the conversation any time soon. “Go get warm. Come in tomorrow for a check-up.”

The line clicked and Kon slowly sat up, crawling forward on the canopy and peering over the edge to find Icicle still unconscious underneath him. He laid on his stomach now, shuddering and staring down at the concrete below. He still had a few minutes before anyone else showed up, based on the distant sirens he could hear, and he spent that time thinking about what he wanted to say to Tim that night before he was called away. He wanted to tell Tim how often he thought of him, and how he wished to kiss him again at that very moment. He thought of how warm Tim's mouth had been, how hot his breath was against Kon's own lips, and as he laid shivering on the canopy, he wanted that again.

A flash of red and blue snapped him from his drowsy daydream, and he hopped up from the canopy, hovering in the air and sparing one final farewell glance toward Icicle before shooting off into the sky. He wasn't exactly sure when the decision had been made to return to the Drake house, but in the blink of an eye he was back at Tim's window, knocking against the glass and grinning widely with eyes squinted closed in delight. When he opened them again, Tim was standing at the other side of the window, pushing it up and open.

“You came back?" Tim teased, crossing his arms and resting them against the window sill. "Or is this another kidnapping?”

Kon faked a dramatic gasp as he pressed a hand to his own chest. Tim bit back a smile and stepped aside to allow Kon to climb in through his window for the second time that night, far past his curfew. “Of course I came back. I just had to run a little errand.” Kon sucked in a breath through chattering teeth and spoke in a stuttered voice, “Hey, I warmed you up last time you needed it. Return the favor?”

Tim's eyes narrowed in mock retaliation and he challenged, “You warmed me up last time because you brought me out in the cold in the first place.”

“It was impossible not to provide that service. You looked so good in my jacket; can you blame me?” Kon cooed with a sneaky smirk, bending slightly at the waist to lean forward and watch as Tim’s cheeks turned beet red in return. Kon felt satisfied with himself even as he hugged his torso and pouted. “So is that a no?”

Tim blinked to recover and waved his hands toward the bed in invitation. The clone jumped between the sheets as Tim stepped up to the opposite side and slowly crawled over mattress to slip underneath the comforter next to the clone. Kon felt comforting heat radiating off of Tim, trapped underneath the layers of blanket and swimming around his limbs and torso. But it wasn't enough. His mind buzzed with the excitement of breaking curfew and lying down in such close proximity to Tim, resulting in a giddiness that bred stupid bravery. Kon moved underneath the blankets, carefully avoiding the sutured wounds on Tim's legs in the process, until he was lying on his stomach between Tim's legs, head resting on the scratchy sweater over Tim's chest and arms wrapped around Tim's middle. Tim giggled the entire time and pushed against Kon with a half-hearted claim of being ticklish.

Kon had seen his younger brother lay like that with nearly everyone in his family-including the clone himself a few times-and he couldn't deny that the kid had the right idea. He was comfortable and warm laying so close to someone like this, and Tim's heartbeat thrummed softly right under his ear. The pair both soon settled down and Tim absently threaded his fingers through Kon's hair, who hummed in delight at the touch of Tim's nails dragging across his scalp. His eyelids drifted closed.

“You’re freezing. I feel you through my shirt,” Tim hissed, fingers momentarily yanking at Kon's hair in gentle retribution for the discomfort, but he only snorted and hugged Tim tighter, leaching the warmth through his sweater. Kon winced in sympathy for Tim's shorts-clad legs that straddled his shivering body, and he assumed Tim was definitely regretting his clothing choice at the moment, but neither offered to move yet. The room succumbed to silence for minutes until Tim suggested, “You know, you can take a shower here. If you want.”

Kon’s eyes snapped open at the offer. He pulled back, sitting up on his heels between Tim’s legs and pulling the heavy comforter up with him, wrapped loosely around his shoulders. Tim nodded again in confirmation, even offering to stick a pair of clean clothes in the dryer for him to wear afterward. The idea sounded heavenly, and the hot water worked wonders at purging the frustrating chills from his skin. When he stepped out of the shower twenty minutes later, he was pink in color but smiling so widely.

“I gotta go home in a few,” Kon announced, post-shower and appearing in Tim’s room wearing his borrowed sweatpants that were too short and a t-shirt that was hanging down to his mid-thighs. He moved back toward the bed and crawled across the mattress next to his friend, who nodded in understanding.

“I didn’t even know you could get cold,” Tim noted with an interested frown, glancing up from his cellphone screen, from which Kon heard little jingling sounds suggesting a game.

He shrugged noncommittally, and laid down over the blankets on his back this time with his arms crossed comfortably behind his head. “Icicle wasn’t normal. I’ve been to the Arctic and that felt fine. But this-” Kon shook his head with a grumble, “this was different. It was so much worse. Like cold magic that went right to my bones. I felt like my teeth were going to shatter the first time he hit me.”

Tim hummed with interest, setting his phone aside and leaning back against the headboard. “I understand what you mean. We have one of those here in Gotham. Calls himself Mr. Freeze.”

“Mr. Freeze?” Kon noted, biting down on his lip to suppress a smirk. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. Tell me more.”

“I thought you had to go home now?” Tim teased with a crooked grin.

“Soon, I promise,” Kon sighed happily and his eyes slipped closed. “I like being with you. I like you.”

His statement was so honest, spoken with such conviction. His mind fluttered around with the early memories of meeting Tim-how they raced across the rooftops, when Tim offered him food in the car, when he cut Kon's hair. He wished his moments in the penthouse with Tim could have lasted longer, watching the entire movie and eating snacks before his unfortunate kidnapping.

Tim breathed, “You like me?”

Kon hummed, shifting lightly as he sunk down deeper into the mattress. He thought of sitting on the floor and watching the Christmas tree blink with shimmering lights with Tim's face so close to his own. He sang for the very first time with Tim, trying to match the notes on the radio. Tim played Kon's favorite song on the piano just because he read about it in the paper. He remembered Tim gently holding the glass mistletoe in his hands, asking Kon if he had ever kissed someone. And if he would like to.

“I like you too,” Tim whispered so soft.

Kon would like to kiss him again.

The clone's eyes slipped back open, and his heart stuttered at the words he so nearly missed in his distracted comfort. He turned his head and looked at Tim, whose eyes were wide with anticipation. Kon heard Tim's pulse thumping in his chest as abrasive waves of suspense washed across his face. Kon wanted to be positive that they were talking about the same thing, because of course Tim liked him. Kon was pretty sure they were best friends. Besides his immediate family, Tim was the only person he spoke to every day, even if it was just over texting about something as mundane as the chores he did that day or the homework Tim was working on. But that didn't necessary mean that Tim liked Kon in the way that Kon liked Tim.

Kon looked at him now, and of course it was so obvious how he felt. Because Tim had offered him food, a bed, clothing, a kiss. Tim cut his hair and helped him decorate his room. Tim printed off pictures that Kon liked for his wall. He encouraged Kon during bad school days, and congratulated him after missions he completed. He warned him to be careful with Luthor. And with the most tactful precision he could muster and by the pure definition of being smooth, Kon spoke in an attempt to show just how fond he also felt for his friend.

“Cool.”

An amused grin stretched across Tim's lips, and his gaze fell down to his lap while he swallowed his laughter. Kon closed his eyes again and relished in the comfort of listening to Tim explain the strange Gotham rogues he has had to fight throughout his time as Robin.

“That sounds like a circus,” Kon snorted after he learned about the man who calls himself Scarecrow. “And speaking of, tell me more about the evil clown you saved the store man’s family from.”

Tim paused a moment, and eyebrows drawn in thought. “You remember that?”

“Of course.”

Tim scooted closer and the pair spoke for minutes longer before the melatonin gummies Tim ate began to show signs of their strong effect. His eyelids were drooping and he yawned three times in the span of one minute before his speech slurred drowsily. Kon carefully floated straight up in the air when Tim's eyes finally closed, careful to avoid any disrupting sounds as he moved toward the window.

“Goodnight, 'n be safe.”

Kon heard the soft sound barely slip through Tim’s lips. He smiled.

***

The following day, Kon decided on skipping school to attend his mandatory meeting with Donovan and Lex rather than risk going there after school when he was expected to be home. His teachers were still frustrating him greatly anyway-often insistent on quizzing him on the class content in front of the other students in hopes to catch him unknowing. He was careful to act natural in the morning, smiling brightly and pushing his fake glasses up high on the bridge of his nose. But even as Lois wished him a good day and Kal pulled him into a side hug before he left, a tightness brewed in his chest. The discomfort persisted even as he tried to push it aside in favor of enjoying his time with Dabney.

The clock rang noon as Kon sat upright on the medical table found in Donovan's office. A thermometer was sticking out of his mouth and the chilly diaphragm of Dabney's stethoscope was pressed to his back. Despite being asked several times to sit still with his mouth closed for an accurate temperature reading, Kon continued to talk around the device, relaying the battle with Icicle to Donovan as his story was accented by the sound of the glass tube clicking along his teeth.

Lex sat at a table in the corner of the room, enthralled in his work and typing on his laptop, seemingly ignoring the pair while Donovan sat down in his roller chair right next to Kon’s knees, evidently giving up on listening to the clone's lungs. Dabney was dressed in khakis and a button-down shirt, notably never wearing the white lab coat that Kon hated so much after his first few days of being alive.

“Mouth closed,” Donovan reminded him with a small smile as soon as Kon hit a pause in his recollection. He spoke up quickly in the absence of Kon’s chatter, which the clone assumed to be a means of distracting him into silence while he was forced to sit with his lips pressed together. “Your fight yesterday sounds very interesting. The young man’s name that you apprehended is Cameron Mahkent, did he tell you that? His father, Joar, used to wreck havoc with a cold gun-it must be a family gimmick, huh?” Kon cocked an eyebrow, thinking of the House of El symbol he wore on his chest and how it was his own family's gimmick. “He used his cold gun so often that his kid ended up with meta human freezing abilities. Isn’t that fascinating? I’ve met Joar before, and he is just as dramatic as his kid is. Though twice as dangerous. They have both had frequent run-ins with the Justice League-particularly the famous speedster. Have you met the Flash yet?”

Kon shook his head. He hadn’t met anyone Kal worked with except for his own family and a few Gotham bats.

“You should talk to Superman about that, I bet he has some interesting stories to tell you about their previous battles. Cameron Mahkent used to go by Icicle Jr., before he adopted his father’s alias, which is a funny title in my opinion."

”Icicle Jr.?" Kon mumbled, keeping his lips as close to closed as he could while delivering his clarification. Donovan nodded in confirmation.

Kon snorted at the information, and Lex piped up from his side of the room, noting without looking up from his keyboard, “That name sounds just as ridiculous as Superboy, doesn’t it?”

Donovan sighed immediately in a relenting acceptance of defeat as Kon’s mouth expectantly fell open, and he snatched the thermometer just as the clone argued back in a raised voice, “I didn’t pick Superboy. Someone else gave me that name without asking me first. I wouldn’t have picked something so...”

“Spot-on?” Lex suggested with a malicious smile, and Kon growled.

“Stupid,” Kon corrected, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Kon-El, come on. Focus here,” Dabney’s voice bit into the tense air, drawing Kon’s scowl back to him. "We still have work to do here, okay?" He gently grasped the clone’s arm and pulled him off the table, leading him to the opposite side of the room for another measurement. “Hop up on the scale for me.”

Kon reluctantly threw one more glare toward Lex, who refused to look and allow him the satisfaction, before following directions while muttering to Dabney, “Sure thing, sifu.”

Donovan nodded silently, peering around the clone to catch a glimpse at the scale's screen. “You still eating three whole meals a day?” he asked, recording the number displayed. “No skipping?”

“No skipping.”

Donovan then led him to the stadiometer and measured Kon’s height while he continued to question the clone on his daily activities. The questions were similar to the ones he asked during Kon's first visit, regarding his growing Kryptonian strength and abilities. He even tested the range of his hearing and telekinesis.

“And how often during an average week do you find yourself lifting over one-hundred pounds at a time?” Donovan asked as he scratched notes across his clipboard.

Kon pursed his lips in consideration. There was another small pull he felt in his chest as he wanted to turn to Kal and ask what he should answer, but the alien wasn’t there. It was an unfortunate reminder that Kal-El didn’t even know Kon was there, despite their agreement. But due to his own decision, he was alone in the room, required to answer his own medical questions for the doctor. “Uhmmm... four, I think?”

His tone was so clearly a question, and he knows for a fact he low-balled the estimation by several. That morning alone, he lifted a handful of items in the barn that undoubtedly reached greater than one-hundred pounds. And that was part of his daily chores. But keeping that information from Cadmus was fine with him, especially because they now knew about the success of Icicle's powers against him.

Donovan nodded and leveled the clone with a scrutinizing gaze. “I see. So why didn’t Superman join us today?” Kon blinked at the harsh transfer in conversation, and Lex stopped typing to listen. “I was under the impression that I was going to host both of you in this office for your check-ups. I have a difficult time believing he was just too busy to come along.”

Kon quickly smiled in a way that he hoped would appear care-free and honest, and he lied with a lazy shrug, “Supes had more important stuff to do than watch me answer your doctor questions. But he's, you know...” Kon pointed up to the cieling, "listening."

He didn’t require the gift of clairvoyance to understand that Dabney didn’t believe him at all. The man was frowning at him now, with startling warning that made Kon shift uncomfortably. They both heard Lex mutter a soft, “So miracles do exist.”

Dabney added in a softer voice, moving even closer. “Be sure to keep telling Superman all about these appointments. Parents like to know about this stuff.”

Lex snorted, and Kon shot daggers in the man's direction. He really wanted to change the subject now, not only because Dabney was beginning to frighten him a little, but also because that horrible, stabbing guilt had returned with thrusting force. Of course parents want to know about their child's doctor visits and close proximity to former kidnappers-general threats-previous, vicious creators. He couldn't deny that he was sharing a room with the man that wanted to turn him into a mindless shell who could carry out his evil bidding. But he never wanted to jeopardize his visits with Donovan. Without knowing what else he could do, he slowly raised his hand to the scientist and waited patiently until the man returned the gesture and pressed his palm against Kon's.

“Dabney, did I already tell you about the time I went to the Caribbean with my cousin?” Kon asked in a bright voice, only hinted at the edges with sharpness.

He already did, and he knew he did, but he wanted a change in conversation right them before his head exploded. Donovan smiled widely anyway and asked Kon to tell him all about the trip. For the rest of his time in the office, Kon kept his mouth running and mind busy, but no matter how many stories he told and how many jokes he delivered, he couldn’t ignore the sour taste of guilt settling in his throat like a smothering blanket.

His appointment was complete just after 3 o’clock in the afternoon, something he found to be perfect as he flew back home surrounded by the shrill squeals of school bells ringing across the state. Nobody suspected a thing.

***

Kon sat alone in his room, claiming he was working on the homework he never collected that day, and his mind was stirring. He could hear Jon recounting the events of the day in the kitchen, emphasized by the clicks of his spoon against the ceramic bowl and their grandparents laughing. He heard Kal chiming in with his own jokes, which Lois found to be way funnier than Jon thought. Their joyful chatter made him bitter, though he knew the only reason he was not joining them in laughter was because he left the room to be alone. His swimming emotions were frustrating to sift through, and he settled on closing his eyes and sitting up tall on the mattress-mimicking the pose for meditation even without the aid of the Fortress.

Donovan's words sat fresh on his mind, untouched and not yet dealt with. A horrible, dreading sensation filled his stomach and his thoughts boiled over as he thought of Kal. They agreed on trusting one another, something that had already came naturally during their months together, and Kal made rules for them both to follow. He made a rule about breaking curfew, especially on a school night, but Kon had already slipped out of the house late at night. He has promised to wait on agreeing to work with Lex until after discussing it with Kal, but he lost count of the handful of tasks he already completed for Luthor-the man who had hurt and scared him so ruthlessly. He was even ditching school now-though that one hardly brought him remorse. He still thought attendance there was silly.

Kal had only shown him warmth and comfort, parental advice and guidance. And Kon took advantage of his occasional absence to do the very things he promised not to do. He listened again to the sound of Kal giggling happily at something his wife said, and he hid his face in his pillow with a groan. The evening moved on slowly and ended when Kal knocked softly on Kon's door to wish him goodnight with a broad, loving smile. Kon's burning guilt worsened.

Tim texted him the following evening, requesting they talk to one another soon, and Kon's heart leapt with excitement at the thought. He knew Tim wanted to talk about their most recent conversation, and he pushed aside his warning conscience as he told his family he was going to meet with friends from school at the Smallville diner. The lie was easy enough as his parents became enthusiastic at the thought of the clone finally making friends in his own hometown. He flashed a large smile, politely turned down the offer for Lois to drive him into town, and sped out the door, arriving in Gotham only moments later.

Tim appeared frantic, pacing back and forth in his room while running a nervous hand through his hair. "No one else is home," he whispered before Kon could even climb in through the window all of the way. "Wanna go get dinner or something?"

Kon wanted to ask Tim why he was bothering to whisper if they were home alone, and perhaps poke his cheek while teasing him about pacing around with the messiest hair he had seen yet. But the wild look in Tim's eyes squashed that playful desire, and Kon approached him with a gentle expression. "Pizza?"

Tim's gaze softened fondly, and Kon found the remaining, pressing guilt dissipate completely. Tim understood when Kon explained they needed to stay out of the news to avoid any conflicts at home, and he tugged a buffalo plaid hunter cap over the clone's head while Kon slipped his Kent glasses over his nose. They bundled up in scarves and coats before Kon scooped Tim up in his arms and relished in the feeling of Tim's head resting on his shoulder. His feet lifted from the carpet and he dove out of the open window.

Their identities as Superboy and the son of a very wealthy Gothamite were safe under the layers of fabric tugged over their faces, and they paid for their meal together before slipping around the back and flying up to a dry rooftop. Kon excitedly dug into the pizza while Tim remained standing and shuffling anxiously, a motion accented by red cheeks and a rapid heartbeat. Kon watched from his cross-legged position hovering just over the cold concrete roof, waiting patiently asTim visibly attempted to formulate his peace.

“Okay. So I’ve been thinking about this a lot. About us,” Tim finally admitted and Kon nearly choked. He quickly swallowed his bite and returned the slice back to the box. “And the first thing is: we have to be way more careful about you coming here. If Bruce ever finds out, he’s going to be so pissed. He’s been in Europe for a couple weeks, so we’ve been in the clear. Well, mostly clear. Dick definitely knows about the other night, but he wouldn’t rat us out.”

Kon’s brow furrowed. He wasn't expecting Tim to jump right into the conversation about them-and he wasn't sure what was going on with Bruce not being able to find out about it. “Bruce doesn’t want us to...” date, he thought. Kon bit the inside of his cheek to diminish his growing smile at the thought of the word alone. “Do this?” He finished, pointing at the take-out pizza box and hoping his point was clear.

“He doesn’t want supers to come into Gotham, especially without him knowing,” Tim clarified with a sigh. “We have some dangerous stuff here, and it would be really bad if something were to happen.”

“Sure." Kon had no idea what he was talking about. "We can be careful to avoid Bruce’s watch, alongside Kal's. I am really not supposed to just leave the house and come here like this,” Kon grinned. "And if he knew I took you out of your home again, he'd definitely freak."

Tim gulped, eyes wide at the statement. "Yes, okay. So we also need to avoid making Superman mad. That one is very important. And I, uhm...” Tim scratched at the back of his neck, appearing sheepish and looking down at his shuffling feet. “I was thinking about what you said at my house. I really like being around you, and I like talking to you and listening to you talk. And I like...” His pulse was even faster now and his pupils blown, reflecting the shining moonlight. “I like you.”

A wide smile spread across Kon’s face, and he shot up in the air, hovering upright and inches from Tim’s face.

“I like you too,” he breathed, leaning in. Tim’s gaze cleared, the terrified look replaced by one filled with relief.

“Can we-?” Tim started with a pink flush renewed even as he took a small step forward, bringing their bodies closer together. “Do you want to...” Kon waited patiently, head tilted and air filled with the symphony of their hammering heartbeats. “Can I kiss you?”

Kon’s chest soared, and he heard the pizza box shift beside them at the same time that Tim’s hair ruffled back-signs of his telekinesis bursting. He nodded and bowed his head down, wrapping greedy hands on either side of Tim’s face, and pulling him close. Tim stood tall on his tiptoes, and their lips joined as the warmth in Kon’s chest expanded, pushing out until the pizza box was thrown from the roof. The scraping sound drew the clone's attention.

“Ah hell,” Kon groaned in complaint as he pulled away, drawing a reluctant sigh from Tim’s throat. But he didn’t plan on being gone for long. He dove off and caught the box before it could hit the concrete ground below, zipping back to Tim’s side. Tim watched the movement with an amused smile as the following wind disarranged his coat.

“You’re so smooth,” Tim teased in a drawled voice, and Kon hissed out a lazy shush.

“So what happens now? Do I meet your parents or something?” Kon joked, pulling Tim’s slack arms up and tugging him closer to drape the arms over the clone’s shoulders. Kon leaned forward and stopped just next to Tim’s lips, his warm breath tickling at Tim’s face.

“I think so,” Tim murmured back in awe akin to stupor at their closeness. Only a second passed before a startled panic colored Tim’s face, and he suddenly yelped out, “Wait, no!” Kon watched with surprise as Tim pulled back away from him. “Actually, no.”

“No?” Kon asked curiously, voice soft.

“Uhm... right. No,” Tim shuffled and stared down at his shoes. “It’s a bad idea. My dad will ask a million questions about it-about you. He will ask for your last name and who your parents are and what they do, ‘cause he always has to kvetch about everything. And you can’t tell him Lois Lane is your mom because he knows her name-she’s a famous journalist, everyone knows her name. Famous and knowingly living in Metropolis. So that definitely cannot work. And if you give a fake name, he will figure that out because he will ask all of his work buddies about this person, and no one will know them. And then he will ask his friends that work at the school, and he’ll find out you don’t really exist here. And he will be furious that I lied to him.”

“Okay.”

“Okay. So? Maybe we can try to create a third identity for you and fabricate some normal, non-famous parents who live here in Gotham City. We can make birth certificates and hire actors to play the part. He can meet them. The whole thing. So then he won’t feel inclined to go poking around as much. It’ll be so easy.”

Kon grimaced, shrugging and admitting, “That all sounds super exhausting. I’m tired just listening to you suggest it.” The pair sat down next to the pizza box while Tim frowned deeply.

“So, then what do we do?”

“Just don’t tell him.”

“Don’t-?” Tim faltered, his jaw fallen with disbelief. “Don’t tell him? We can do that?”

Kon muffled an amused snicker. “Sure, why not?”

“Well-I didn’t... I don’t know. So, what then? You’ll just be my secret b-” Tim’s voice caught in his throat, and he bit his lip to hide a growing smile. “My secret boyfriend?”

“Mmmm. That sounds super hot,” Kon responded, and he leaned forward, closer to Tim as he mirrored the other and bit down on his own lower lip. The action drew Tim’s attention, just as he had planned. “I’m so in.”

Tim scooted closer and pressed his forehead against Kon’s, closing his eyes as the clone sighed with satisfaction. He wanted to sit up there forever. But Tim pulled away again with more grief stricken across his face.

“But I guess I should at least tell him that I like boys, right?” Tim asked in a hurried voice, words tumbling from his lips with clear anxiety embedded within. “You know, so he isn’t expecting anything else from me right now. I’m pretty sure he still thinks I’m dating a girl from school.”

“Tell him whatever you want to.”

“I’m afraid to tell him,” Tim admitted in a scared whisper, and Kon’s chest throbbed. 

“Then don’t tell him anything.”

Tim appeared baffled again, as though he had never considered that a plausible option. “But... but doesn’t that make you mad? People always say you have to like someone enough to be honest with your family and-”

“Tim,” Kon stopped him with a hand raised. “Telling your pops is obviously a problem, and just thinking about it is already making you upset. But I really don’t care what he knows or thinks, even if that means he doesn’t know about me at all. As long as we can still do this...” he leaned in and waited, flashing large, blue eyes at Tim. But the latter didn’t move yet. “Do we still get to do this?” Kon asked in mock sadness, head tilted and pout on his lips.

Tim nodded and pushed Kon's glasses up over his hair, smiling as he leaned into the kiss. Kon could tell he was still distracted, and he groaned dramatically as Tim pulled apart again.

“How do you make this sound so easy?” Tim asked.

“It should be easy. You don’t owe anyone else anything. Not me or your dad. Just yourself. You’re ready when you’re ready, and telling him is a favor for him. You don’t owe him any information about you, not now and not ever. He wants to think you’re dating some chick at school, let him. Gets him off your back and leaves more time for...” Kon pauses to press a chaste kiss to Tim’s mouth before continuing, “this sorta thing.”

“This sorta thing is really good,” Tim agreed softly, cheeks pink. “Are you going to tell your family?”

His brow furrowed in consideration at that. Kara and Lois already knew how Kon felt about his best friend, and he had a sneaking feeling that Martha suspected the same. “I think half of them have been waiting on this. I’ll tell the rest whenever,” he decided noncommittally with another shrug.

“So until then?” Tim asked as his fingers inched toward Kon’s hand. “Secret boy-” he pursed his lips and swallowed again around the foreign word. “Secret boyfriends?”

“Sounds better and better every time you say it,” Kon hummed and closed the gap to intertwine his naked hand through Tim’s gloved fingers.

***

“Superboy. Come to my office.”

Kon-El rolled his eyes with exasperation at the order. He had answered no less than twenty calls from Luthor in the two weeks that followed the rooftop conversation with Tim-an event that still brought color of excitement to his face. The calls were mostly demands to fight battles now, almost entirely comprised of meta humans, and Kon hated to admit that he missed the innocence of rescuing cats and delivering water. He felt his heart pounding during these tasks, most of his attention diverted from the mission to scanning his audience for any sign of a recording phone. The reasoning behind his whereabouts could be an easy lie, he knew. Kon could simply claim he heard a cry for help and answered instinctively without thinking of telling Kal first. He could apologize profusely and swear to remember telling Kal the next time he heard someone, and he could flash an innocent gaze like the one Jon did to earn extra desserts or another episode of TV past his bedtime. Kon had practiced it in the mirror and he couldn't deny that it would be near impossible for Kal to be mad at him when he used this new trick.

He knew under any other circumstances, he would love the attention. But he was exhausted having to dodge the press after each save to avoid making headlines. Weaving through the congratulating onlookers was becoming more difficult at each stop, and he considered adopting a mask like Batman and Robin used.

Kon reluctantly pushed himself up and out of bed, dressing in his House of El suit and slipping out of the window unbeknownst to his family. The fly to Luthor's office was quick as Kon wanted to get the meeting over with. The sky was bright and clear though, which allowed him the opportunity to inhale fresh air and bask in the warm sun rays before he found himself leaning heavily against the desk in Luthor's office, waiting.

Lex placed a tan-colored folder in front of Kon and flipped it open to the first page. “You’ve been doing very well,” he stated plainly, and Kon tried to ignore the sense of pride that threatened to bloom in his chest at the compliment. He didn't want to feel any sense of achievement coming from Luthor's praise, because following any order from the man was so clearly the wrong thing to do. He scrutinized the clone for a moment before asking, “Clark doesn't know you are working with me, does he?"

Kon nearly blanched. "What makes you think that?"

"I have yet to see him, and I find that completely unexpected. You didn't tell him about the missions you are completing for me or the appointments with your doctor, and that's why you leave scenes before anyone can come. Is that right?"

"Of course Kal knows about this," Kon lied through grit teeth. He suddenly felt trapped in the large office, and unsettled goosebumps made an appearance on his arms. The sneaking smirk on Lex's lips only heightened his fear, and he watched with wide eyes as Lex slowly leaned forward over the desk to stop closer to him. The clone held his breath.

"So if I called Clark. Right now. And told him that you were here in my office, he would tell me..." Lex paused, and Kon waited, "that he already knew that?"

Kon swallowed harshly, feeling his legs tremble underneath him. He wanted to sit down, but he had to match Lex in stance as long as the man sounded threatening like he did at that moment. "If you called him right now, then you would have to talk to Superman. And we both know how much you hate that. Let's just avoid it altogether."

Unfortunately, that was all of the admission that Lex needed, and he nodded with approval that sat ill in Kon's abdomen. "Your incessant lying is... frustrating. But I find this one in particular to be in my own benefit. So we will simply move on and avoid it altogether, like you want." He sat down in his chair and nodded at the file, changing the subject as though it had meant nothing to him in the first place. Kon was still holding his breath, frowning and shifting uncomfortably between the balls of his feet. "Today's mission is important to me. I know the curator of the historical museum in Hawaii, Doctor Arnold Kaua. About a year ago, he helped me acquire something very important that I needed to create you.” Kon's frown deepened at the ugly reminder, but Lex ignored him and remarked with a sly smile, "Consider the man your godfather.”

Kon scoffed. "Lucky me. Does he come with a magic wand and a pumpkin carriage?”

Lex blinked with surprise more than annoyance at the attitude, and he asked, "Did you just reference 'Cinderella?'"

Kon rolled his eyes at the question and looked down at the file before him, slowly taking a seat and scanning the information. He did reference the Disney movie because he had just watched it with Jon a few days prior, alongside several other Disney movies that the kid insisted he watch after Kon admitted he didn't know about most of them.

"Anyway," Lex continued easily. "He and his archeology friends discovered something very special buried deep in the volcano Kīlauea. Imagine his surprise when he realized everyone wants to steal it from him now." The man flipped to the next page for Kon and pointed at the picture. "This stone is not only sacred, but it is said to provide people with advanced abilities-it's even thought to transform their DNA entirely to that of a meta. It is being kept in the museum until they present it to a panel of researchers, which will take place this evening. He has asked that I arrange for someone to watch the stone until that panel."

"It's... just a rock?" Kon asked, bewildered. He thought Lex was going to talk to him about something incredible in appearance, like a sword at the very least. But the rock in the picture was tiny, golden in color and completely underwhelming in the picture provided. Kon felt he was wasting his time sitting there, already lying to his family regarding his whereabouts. "You want me to fly to Hawaii and guard a rock?"

"You of all people cannot really deny the significance that a stone can have, right?" Lex's conniving question brought a shiver to Kon's skin, and his spine became rigid at the subtly-hidden threat. Before he could stop himself, Kon reached up to his chest with a shaky hand and he rubbed carefully at the place the kryptonite necklace had burned him. A frustrated warmth climbed up the back of his neck when Lex snickered with satisfaction. "That's what I thought. You'll watch your tone and keep an eye on the stone today. Stand guard until Dr. Kaua returns from his errands with the rest of the scientists. Understood?" Kon nodded. "Excellent. And after you complete the task, you can come back here and see Donovan. No check-up necessary."

Kon perked up at that. "Just a visit for fun?" Luthor confirmed he was correct. "Can it just be me and Dabney?"

Lex considered the clone with an unreadable expression before he surprisingly agreed. "Yes. Just you and Dabney. You've been very good, and I have to get some work done anyway."

Kon couldn't believe his luck. Since striking the poor deal with Lex Luthor, he had only seen Doctor Donovan in the looming presence of the former, hindering their conversation to only surface-level. The clone wanted to talk to the doctor about personal aspects of his life-how his guilt was gnawing on his chest and how he hated to feel torn between being honest with his family and having the opportunity to visit other people at his own leisure. Kon pushed back and began to stroll toward the window when Lex stopped him with a sharp demand, "Aren't you forgetting something?"

The clone hated to admit he knew exactly what the man meant, and he felt he would never get used to hearing appreciations demanded from him. The hairs on the back of his head rose with aggravation and he felt his cheeks darken in color beyond his control. "Thank you," he bit out, pointedly ignoring Lex's malicious chuckle and slipping out the window before the man could say anything else.

Ten minutes later, Kon found himself in the Hawaiian historical museum. Dr. Kaua leveled him with a distrusting gaze, making his opinion clear that he hated the young age of the one sent to protect his findings. But he reluctantly left, sparing a final glance to the stone hidden away in a private panel in the museum lobby. In his granted privacy, Kon tied the loose end of a flag in the chilled lobby to the adjacent metal pole and lounged happily in the colorful, make-shift hammock. He swung lazily while tapping away on his phone to Tim, softly humming along with the repetitive music whispering from the cieling speakers. According to Tim, he was home alone the entire day and waiting anxiously for patrol that night with Bruce, and Kon was jealous because he had to tell his family he was hanging out with friends at the mall to slip out of the house without alarm. He thought Tim had a pretty sweet deal with so much freedom at home.

But after an hours of soft relaxation passed, he heard a soft crack in the structure around him. Kon sat up in the hammock, one knee tucked to his chest and the other leg hanging over the side. He listened.

A piercing boom sounded, startling him into jumping to action, and he zipped through the museum until he found a large hole shattered through the brick in a side room filled with floral-based paintings. Kon quickly scanned his eyes across the room, looking for the assailant when a sharp voice sounded from behind him.

"I was hoping you'd be here."

Kon spun around and found he was looking at a woman leaning against the wall on the opposite side of the room, posture relaxed as though she had been there the entire time. She had bright red hair, cosmic in size and curling around her shoulders to fall pleasantly down her back. She wore a green domino mask accented by a green armor suit in the shape of a one-piece bathing suit, and tall heavy boots. But the most prominent feature was her height. She was one of the the tallest people Kon had ever seen, and his jaw dropped in disbelief.

"I've seen you in the news. Real cute face. You can take quite the punch, huh?" Her voice was lewd and the tone brought surprised color to his face. "That's good to know."

Kon’s spine became rigid at the clear threat, but he painted on an easy smile and stated, "You must be at the wrong building. The Renaissance Fair is just down the road." He paused to nod at her armor, and she raised an eyebrow. "Easy mistake to make, I almost took a wrong turn myse-"

His chattering was cut off with a snap when she raced forward. Kon took a deep breath and lowered into a defensive stance. He had practiced using his telekinesis with Kal several times over the past months, and though he was not standing among the crystals in the Fortress, he was confident in his abilities now. He just needed to conjure up that warmth to create a powerful force field that could stop anything or anyone from touching him. His chest was hot and his fingers tingled, and the force field was licking fire around him.

But her fist connected with his nose with an ugly explosion of pain, and he was sent flying yards back, crashing through the wall of paintings and rolling to a stop in a large room housing antiques. He sat up and scowled at the woman that approached him with menacing footsteps, frustrated as she grinned wildly. He jumped up to his feet and raised his fists, something that made her appear even more thrilled.

"Finally," she cooed. "I've been itching for a real fight since I left that disgusting pit behind. And just like a gift-wrapped present, I find you here waiting for me. I have a lot to give, and I bet you can take it, huh, pup?"

He pushed out again just to test his telekinesis, and he found the expensive items shake in their glass containers, rattling at the force he was putting out into the room. But she didn't budge. Instead, she stopped in her track and laughed loudly, head thrown back and eyes squinted closed beneath her mask. In her brief distraction, Kon growled, springing forward and ramming his fist into her abdomen. From the very beginning of his training with Kara and Kal, he was reminded relentlessly to keep a careful watch on his strength and the output of force he put on the world around him. He did that now and watched how she barely stumbled back.

"I'm sure you can do better than that, can't you?" The woman leaned close and bit her lip. "Or am I wasting my time?"

He opened his mouth to retort, but just as the woman turned away from him, the underside of his chin burst with stars of burning pain. Kon flew through the air and landed in a heap on the cold-tile ground before he realized the sensation was delivered by her fist. He rolled onto his back and pressed a hand to his chest as he gasped. But when he looked up and blinked away the blurry vision, he found she was gone. Kon hissed with irritation and listened, determining with haste that she had entered the lobby of the museum, walking through the building in search for something that he assumed to be the stone he was expected to watch.

He pushed up to his knees and coughed at the dust that stung his throat. He couldn't believe how strong this person was; he didn't even have this much difficulty training with his Kryptonian family-though he still had a hunch they were all going easy on him. The sharp sound of glass shattering recaptured his attention, and the clone raced through the building until he found the culprit, standing over the remnants of glass boxes and floor tiling, and holding the stone up in a loose fist.

"Pretty, huh?" the large woman stated without looking up at him. "They always say you should get a beautiful woman jewelry." Her head flicked up to him at last, and he felt her hidden gaze land on his face with hungry wanting. "You could get lucky."

"I dunno," Kon rasped, still catching his breath. "It looks a bit too gauche to me." He stepped forward, ignoring the fatigue he already felt begging him to slow down. "You should try the Tiffany's a few blocks down. They keep those rocks lookin' real shiny."

The woman pulled the stone to her chest and her grin grew. "You are a funny kid. I like you."

Kon stepped forward again, now standing just a few feet from her. "You aren't leaving this room with that rock. And unfortunately the museum is closed today." He held his arms out in presentation to the shattered stone and noticeable pipes protruding through the walls and cieling. He had a slight sense of guilt that the building was already so wrecked, only minutes after the attacker showed up, and several of the walls were cracked from his own body. But he sharpened his mind to focus only on retrieving the stone. "So you can't really stay here any longer."

He really didn't want to disappoint Lex, not with a mighty prize on the other side of this particular task-something that should have been so easy. Guard a stone. Easy peasy. Kon felt himself swaying slightly on his feet and the thought of disappointing Lex made him sick. An even worse thought of Kal's face discovering his sneaky transgressions with Luthor was quickly brushed away so the clone could focus on the task at hand.

Guard the stone.

He jumped forward reaching out for the stone she held, but the woman's hand met his movement easily, shooting out and grabbing his wrist. Kon's eyes widened when he was locked in place by her powerful grip, and he tried to yank back away from her. She let go and watched pleasantly as he stumbled back clumsily before she reared back again and let her fist fly. Kon quickly threw up his forearms to catch the brunt of the punch, but he was still knocked off his feet no matter how hard he worked to plant himself with the telekinesis. She was so strong.

"You like playing hard to get?" The woman asked sensually, standing tall over him and peering down with menace. "I love that game. But this is obviously your first time with someone like me. Maybe I should be a little more gentle."

Kon was furious. Frustrated anger built up and bubbled in his throat, and he sprang back up, hitting her with every ounce of force he could summon, and he exhaled with satisfaction when she was thrown back, tumbling through the front welcome desk and landing against the tall metal poles he had used for his hammock. "I think my grandparents would be sorta pissed about me hitting a lady," he hissed out, "but maybe we can keep this between us."

He ignored the anxious hammering of heartbeat shaking his chest as she smiled, and stood back up. "I had a granny too. And before I escaped her, you know what she told me?" She walked toward Kon again with heavy, menacing footsteps. He gnashed his teeth together in preparation. "She told me: 'Always keep 'em wanting more.' She was talking about the prisoners I got to stab and burn alive, but..." she stopped a foot away and smirked. "I think it still applies here. And I think you want more."

She pounced, tackling the clone and sending the pair spiraling through the lobby until they crashed through the glass entrances. Kon groaned at the warm, sand-sprinkled concrete sidewalk that threatened to tear at his suit as he skid to a stop. He heard alarmed gasps and scattering feet surrounding him, and he felt thankful that the bystanders were smart enough to disperse on their own.

Kon jumped up again and pushed out with his hands and abilities alike before the woman could make a move, shoving her away and sending her flying back into a car. The screech of crushing metal rang out as the vehicle bent like an empty can of soda, but snickered happily as she stood back up. "Keep disappointing your grandparents, babe. It's fun, and you're not hurting me."

Kon felt an uncomfortable shiver travel up his spine. He was giving the fight nearly everything he had, and she was still thriving. When she was close enough again, he threw out another hit, but she dodged and bruised his side with her fist, sending him gasping and flying back into the side of an adjacent building.

"Nice try, pup," she sang to him, sauntering to his side. "Wanna give that another go?"

He nodded slowly and stood up, just in time for her to kick him solidly in the chest, and he flew back into a fire hydrant. He hit the cold metal with a loud thunk, and his eyes snapped shut at the eruption of pain. He opened his eyes again and found she was standing right over him again, smiling almost friendly as she said, "You aren't done already, are you? You're young, and I was hoping we can do this a bit longer, right?"

He bit back a groan, pushing up to his hands and knees and panting. "You're a pain in the ass," he grumbled in a hoarse voice.

She laughed easily again, yanking him up to his feet with a firm grasp on his bicep as she asked, "That's the way you like it?" He growled at the implication. "You have no idea how much pain I can bring you."

His cheeks had darkened at the meaning and his limbs were sore and shaking with exhaustion. He swallowed heavy, throat feeling thick at the threat. With a deep breath, his vision became bright red, and the licking fire erupted. The blast hit her square in the chest, throwing her back until she hit the side of a large tree, and Kon used his laser vision to hit her again while she was still standing up. She grunted with pain at the feeling, but moved slowly toward the clone, with firm steps that dug into the concrete road underneath her. She reached the clone with a huff and delivered a mighty blow, sending Kon staggering onto his back in the warm sand of the beach that acted as the beautiful backdrop to the museum.

He blinked with a huff and found himself looking at the woman's tall, green boots right beside his face. She bent over him and reached down, wrapping a strong hand around his neck and lifting him up from the sand. "We were just getting started, and staying here longer with you is so tempting. But I have to run now."

Kon's hands shot up to her forearm, squeezing and tugging for release, digging his fingernails in her skin. She acted as though she didn't feel that, only holding him up at eye-level and arms-length. He choked out, "Who are you?"

She pulled him closer to her face. "My friends call me Kay," she whispered lewdly. "But you, pup, you can call me Knockout."

Before he could interpret her answer, she tugged him in even closer and pressed her lips to his. The act was aggressive and breath-stealing, and he struggled in her hold just as his vision was becoming cloudy. The hand around his neck threatened to tighten in retaliation to his struggling, and he squeezed his eyes shut even as his mind was shrieking for the aid of his telekinesis, pushing out with everything he had. But she didn't even flinch. It seemed like hours had passed before she finally released his mouth with a wet pop sound, though he understood it must have only been seconds, and Kon gasped wildly for air. Knockout tilted her head to the side and winked, a motion reflected in her green mask.

"I'm sure I will see you again later," she breathed, and dropped him, turning around even before he landed in the sand with a heavy thunk. "I'm looking forward to it already."

Kon watched uselessly as she disappeared behind the corner of a building, and a pathetic, scratchy whine slipped out from deep in his throat as he whispered against his will, "Oww..."

And as Kon realized Knockout still had the rock he was sent to guard, his world went black.

Chapter Text

Kon woke up to the comfort of warm Hawaiian sand against his back and the blazing sunshine coloring his face. The whistling sound of evening wind over the crashing, high-tide waves just yards away dragged him unwillingly to consciousness, and he absently sunk his fingers into the gritty texture beneath him until he reached cold sand, chilled as it was protected from the sun’s rays. Birds cried their songs high above him, another dreadful sign of the late hour, and Kon groaned to think of the time that had passed since losing consciousness. He was sure Kal and Lois were expecting him home by now, since his cover story was only a trip to the mall with friends. Despite his biting nerves, the chill was relaxing as it ruffled his hair and tickled at his scalp, and a sigh of relief slipped from his throat. He felt he could be on vacation if not for the ruthless ache in his limbs alongside the painful reminder of his fight against the woman who called herself Knockout.

Knockout was exactly how he felt then, crumpled on the beach.

Distant voices, a symphony of gaping and gasping as pedestrians undoubtedly caught a glance of Superboy, drew a furrowed brow to his forehead. At the shutter of a camera click, he knew he'd have to tweak his mall story. His eyelashes were sticky with residual crust from his sleep, and he slowly peeled them open to peer out in the sharp light. He expected news vans and cameras, interviewers with pens and paper to catch the story on just how tragically Kon managed to fail. But he did not expect to find a familiar face hovering over him.

Kon startled to find Kara bent over him, wearing a worried frown as she pulled his limp hand from the sand and laid it on his stomach. He wanted to speak out and ask for help-he really needed to get the damned stone back for Luthor because the man was going to be so angry. Lex was going to drag him back to Cadmus, and Kon knew the man could do it no matter what Superman did or said, and Luthor would lock his clone up in the laboratory until he felt he had served the sentence for failure.

Accompanying his crushing fears, Kon couldn't believe he even failed to begin with. The task sounded so easy, he was initially surprised Lex even bothered asking him to do it. They just needed him to guard a rock that could fit in the palm of his hand, and someone managed to tear their way into the building and steal it, right after beating him around for her own entertainment. Because Knockout was entertained, Kon remembered. She was having fun fighting him and she had hoped he was the one to be there guarding the museum.

Kon blinked and suddenly Kal was kneeling beside him, resting a cool palm over his forehead and brushing his hair out of his face. He tried to push up, wishing to sit up and look around him for any sign of Knockout lingering in the shadows of his audience, but Kal stopped him with a hand on his chest and a small smile.

“Wait,” the alien whispered, gentle and soothing, and Kon had no choice but to blink helplessly above him. “Just be still, I’ve got you.”

And Kon believed him. His eyes fluttered shut as the throbbing in his temple rang loudly, and he sighed happily when he was wrapped in Kal’s warm arms that slipped under his knees and shoulders. Without the harsh sun abusing his eyes, he felt comfort in his muddy, swimming thoughts, murmuring aloud how nice that means of transportation was.

Kal shushed his incoherent chatter softly and promised, “It’s okay. I’m here.”

The alien pulled Kon up to his chest and tucked him close before the clone felt cool wind push against his skin, and he was carried back to the Smallville farm.

***

“She called herself Knockout.” Kon rubbed his sore skull and swallowed thickly. The kitchen chair was too hard underneath him and he wanted nothing more than to crawl up to his bed and close his eyes as he sank into the mattress and pillow. After Kal landed on the front porch of their farm house, still carrying Superboy, he was brought inside and laid on the living room couch to sleep for a full half hour before his mind cleared and he was ready to walk around and answer questions. The transfer between the couch cushions to the wooden chair was unfortunate, but the look on Kal's face as he paced furiously in the kitchen kept Kon's complaints to a bare minimum. Kon hadn't even changed into comfortable clothing yet, still clad in the somewhat-tattered House of El suit he was found in while Kal was dressed down. “Which is really fitting, I’m pretty sure I lost time for a moment after she threw me into a fire hydrant.”

“A fire hydrant?” Lois asked from her seat next to him, pressing a cold compress to his forehead, and Kon winced. Kal became quiet as soon as they arrived home, and he was completely silent now as Lois tended to the clone.

“Yeah, I definitely lost time,” Kon decided softly with a nod.

Lois grimaced with sympathy.

“She is not human,” he spoke in a whine, trying to capture Kal’s attention because the persistent silent treatment was rapidly becoing incredibly uncomfortable for him. He wasn't going to admit it aloud but he already missed the feeling of Kal's hand on his forehead and the comfort in his reassuring words. “I swear she’s not. She threw me around like it was nothing. I know I’m not human but she’s definitely not human either.”

Lois touched the wet cloth to his cheek and Kon hissed, pulling back involuntarily as the contact stung. He watched as Kal’s frown deepened.

“I mean, I obviously don’t know what she is. I don't think she is like us because she never flew around or anything like that. But she beat me with her bare fists,” he stressed. “It wasn’t even an electric wire like the Stinger had-she was using her hands. Even with my telekinesis, she moved around like it was nothing.” The tension thickened but Kal still remained silent, carefully conveying nothing in his pinched expression. “And my laser vision hardly even phased her, it was so weak.” Kal turned on his heels and continued to pace, and Kon knew then that the alien must have been pissed because in a normal situation, he would gently remind the clone that his powers were improving excellently and he shouldn't talk poorly about his own skills. Kon turned back to Lois. 

"And she acted like she knew me," he continued. "Like she already knew she could beat me around a bit without, you know... killing me or nothing."

Kal flashed a sharp glare and Kon paused.

"Maybe she saw me on TV or something, from San Francisco." Kon's voice dropped to a mere whisper. "She talked like she liked me though, calling me names and joking around. She kissed me before I really passed out."

“Wait, what happened?” Lois asked, surprised and pulling the cold compress back from his face, and instead she rested a hand on his forearm.

“Yeah, I thought it was a little weird. And it sort of hurt and all. But she got away with the stone she stole from that museum, which really sucks because-”

“Conner Kent, why were you in Hawaii?” Kal snapped and Kon froze at the tone. He saw Lois swiftly turn her attention to the alien but Kon lowered his face and missed the message her eyes were conveying. His intention was never to make Superman angry with him. When he remained quiet for too long, Kal prompted him again with impatience tinting his voice. “Kon-El?”

“I heard people calling for help," the clone lied, recalling his cover story. “Someone needed my help.”

“You told us that you were going to the mall with your friends,” Kal countered. He leaned forward on the table. “But you ended up in Hawaii? Did you even go into town?”

Kon nodded vigorously, eyebrows furrowed.

“Okay, and who did you go with?” Kal asked.

“My friends,” he hissed defensively, but Kal just leveled him with an unimpressed gaze before motioning him to continue. Kon cleared his throat and paused to think hard. He hadn’t come up with a cover story to this extent yet. Luckily in his state of panic, his favorite show came to mind. “My friends named Wendy...” His eyes flickered across the room wildly, landing on a refrigerator magnet with an add of a smiling man from the pizzeria in town. Welcome to Jared's, it read, Where You Are Family Too. Kon gulped. “And... Jared?”

“Are you asking?” Lois noted his tone, and Kon felt wild betrayal surge through his chest.

Kon shook his head again. “No. I’m telling. I was with Wendy and Jared at the mall.” He didn’t know when he became such a poor liar, but he believed it may have been somewhere between being thrown through a wall by Knockout and losing consciousness on the beach. “They are my friends in math class. We eat lunch together.”

He realized with a pathetic wince how much easier this conversation would have been if he just used the names of his actual classmates. But it was far too late for that now.

Kal paused for a short moment before sitting down across from Kon and stating with a heavy frown, “You are lying. Why are you lying to us?”

“I’m not lying,” Kon demanded in a raised voice. He absently appreciated the fact that Kara took Jon out for ice cream while he had a talk with Kal and Lois. He would have hated for the youngest to hear everyone's aggravation, and he was afraid that not even his brother's presence could have extinguished his fiery frustration at the confrontation. Which was conflicting because he also felt he deserved it-he was lying.

“Okay, honey,” Lois stated easily, eyes flickering between the pair. “So why don't you tell us your story? You were at the mall when you heard someone call for help in Hawaii, is that right?" Kon nodded with a huff. "How did you explain having to leave to your friends?”

“They don’t know anything about Superboy, if that’s what you're asking,” Kon snapped. And only a moment after, he felt the bitter taste of guilt embed in his throat. Lois was clearly trying to help him out while he was the one that landed in deep shit all on his own, and he was repaying her kindness with hateful attitude. “I know they can’t know about that. I’m not stupid-"

“Nobody is saying that,” Lois promised.

“Someone in Hawaii needed help, and you both told me that I’m supposed to help-that that’s my point here or whatever. I told my friends I had to come back home for a family emergency and that Martha was picking me up. I went outside alone, and I went around to the back where I was hidden, and then I took off and flew to Hawaii. It was a piece of cake and they didn’t suspect anything. I’ll just tell them Jonathan had a fall or something if they ask about it at school.”

“Conner,” Kal stressed.

“Okay fine, I’ll tell them you fell,” Kon growled back, brows furrowed as a fresh wave of frustration washed over him. He turned away haughtily, ripping out of Lois’s loose hold. “That part doesn’t even matter though. Someone needed my help. So I helped. That is supposed to be a good thing.”

“Helping is a good thing, you're right. But that doesn't mean it is your sole 'point' here. Your point is to live and be loved," Lois reminded him gently before patiently asking, "Who needed your help?”

“The-the museum man,” Kon stuttered aggressively. He didn't have the time to think about her first statement, sitting under Kal's stewing watch and chasing his own lie with each question. “Doctor Kaua. He needed my help during a burglary. Someone stole a special stone he found, and he was yelling for help.”

“Okay, so you showed up to the museum as this person-Knockout-was stealing a stone?” Lois clarified as she glanced at Kal, who met her gaze with questions of his own.

“Yes,” Kon agreed quickly, muffling his own sigh of relief behind closed lips. The story sounded plausible enough to his own ears.

“You needed my help during that fight. Why didn’t you tell you were in trouble? I would have heard you if you called for me.”

“I’m sorry,” Kon stressed. “It all happened too fast and I wasn’t really thinking clearly. I thought it was only going to take a few minutes-that I was going to catch the bad guy and return the stone and come right back home. I swear I didn’t know she would be so...” he paused and shuffled painfully in his seat. His sore muscles pulled taught as he shrugged his shoulders high to his ears, “strong.”

To his complete dismay though, Kal was shaking his head again and sighing. “I don’t know where to begin with you right now. Not only did we find you in Hawaii today, but I ran into one of your teachers in town this morning too-Mrs. Jacobs. She said she was glad you were feeling better now after missing a few days of school this week and last. I thought she must have been mistaken, but she was pretty insistent. She's under the impression that Ma sent a message to the office stating you were under the weather. What’s that about?”

Kon swallowed hard. “I got uh... sick.”

“Are you still lying?”

Kon pursed his lips for a full minute, tense under Kal's gaze, before relenting with a nod.

"You feigned a message and lied to your school." This wasn't a question, so Kon didn't answer. "Where were you instead of school?"

Kon shrugged noncommittally, eyes glued stubbornly to the table in front of him.

"Doing stuff like this?" Kal asked, tapping the table with his pointer finger. "More stuff like going to Hawaii and answering calls?"

Kon petulantly decided that a small nod was all the alien was going to get as an answer, and he graced his audience with such.

Kal rubbed at his face slowly, dragging his palms over his eyes and cheeks while he sucked in a deep breath. When he spoke again his voice was quiet and calm-much calmer than Kon felt. And he wanted to yell again in retaliation. “We are lucky your cousin heard you, because who knows what could have happened to you while you were laying there unconscious on the beach. You are part Kryptonian-that has to mean more to you than you act like it does. That should mean you act extra carefully.” Kon pouted, looking away and remaining silently frustrated. His cheeks were warm like a chastised child, and he couldn’t drag his gaze forward to meet Kal's. He considered shooting back a comment that Kal was the one that had his DNA stolen-not Kon. But even with an apparent lack of self-preservation in the moment, he ignored that desire. The alien tried to prompt him a few times, but Kon refused. “Okay, you obviously aren’t ready to talk about this right now. We can try again later. Go to your room.”

Kon’s jaw dropped and he finally looked at Kal. “My-? My room? You’re sending me to my room?”

“Yes,” Kal responded easily, voice loud and clear without shouting.

Kon scoffed angrily, smacking his hands on the table in defiance before pulling back and standing up. Pure spite allowed him to ignore the tightness in his muscles and the aches in his back as he faced Kal with mouth open and gaping. But the alien just met him with a fierce, unmoving gaze, and an irritating mist covered Kon's eyes.

“Fine,” Kon finally yelped before spinning on his heel and racing to his room. He only just avoided the temptation of stomping up the stairs, choosing instead to float away soundlessly until he could slam his bedroom door shut. He growled angrily, alone in his room as he paced back and forth across the carpet. And despite his blurry vision, he was not about to cry.

His family was silent downstairs, and as though they knew about the dramatics, the animals residing outside were also quiet. Even Krypto, lying on the couch once inhabited by his warm best friend, had stopped snoring. And with the soundless house came the overwhelming scorch of his cell phone in his pocket, seemingly setting his leg ablaze through the fabric and waiting for his attention. He was surprised the device stayed with him during his battle with Knockout, and he almost wished he had lost it just to spare himself of the upcoming conversation.

Kon pulled it out slowly, in the same movements as he slipped out of his window and rose to sit on the roof of the house, eyes wide and dread building in his throat like burning bile. He found several missed messages from Tim, first asking how the museum watch was going before becoming more panicked as he saw Kon's tremendous loss in the news. But he had to do something else before he could relax and answer Tim.

His fingers trembled as he pressed down on the screen, pulling up Lex Luthor's contact instead. He had to call him soon; he had already waited too long.

Before he could lose his final shred of confidence and back out of it, he clicked the call button and the phone was ringing. Each ring felt like another bolt locking him in a coffin.

Ringing.

Each passing millisecond felt longer than the previous as time stretched across the state, reaching out to the terrifying consequences of his faults. Kon could hardly fathom what to expect from these repercussions, though he blindly hoped the man would show him some sort of mercy for trying his very best out there in the field.

Ringing.

Because how valuable could a rock be?

Lex finally answered the phone, and Kon's mouth dried as he sat gaping like a dying fish. The sun was setting and cast gloomy shadows across the farm, tucked beneath trees and the barn before him. The sky had chilled even more, biting at his bare toes as it blossomed into soft shades of interlapping pink and blue. But Luthor's tone was even colder.

“Do you have anything to say for yourself?” The man was pissed, and the air was thrust from Kon’s lungs without his permission.

He cleared his throat and gave his head a firm shake, hoping for passive nonchalance as he finally answered, “Uhm. I’ll get ‘em next time?”

“Cute.”

Kon shivered at the furious tone, and he bit his lip and squeezed his eyes shut in a lame attempt to avoid the senseless apologies that sprang to his mind. He didn't want to make Lex Luthor happy. On the contrary, he genuinely enjoyed each and every opportunity he was gifted by annoying the man as much as he could. But he wanted to avoid the horrible burning of the kryptonite so much more, and Lex's voice reminded him of his first few days alive. “Yeah. Someone showed up to steal the stone-someone named Knockout-and she was really strong. I couldn’t do anything to hurt her, and she was impossible to stop.”

“Knockout is from Apokolips.”

Kon blinked, surprised that Luthor apparently knew the culprit. Surely this would make retrieving the stolen property easier, he hoped. “I don’t know what that is,” Kon admitted in a whisper. Apokolips wasn’t a word he was familiar with as he searched for a donated memory. “What is she?”

“She is a New God.”

“A New God?” Kon repeated, dumbfounded. “Nothing I did could stop her.”

“Guess you should have done a little more homework then. You lost the stone.” It wasn’t a question. On any normal occasion, Lex would have loved and seized the opportunity to make the clone feel small in his failure. But in the moment, he only sounded furious.

“Right. I will find it though," Kon assured him. "You can tell Dr. Kaua, I already have a plan. Since you know who she is and I can research about New Gods, I can get the stone back. I promise I’ll find it.”

“There is no need to tell him that. I already have someone else on it.”

“Oh,” Kon mumbled, deflated as he felt the uncomfortable oncoming of ramification. The hair at the back of his neck stood up in anticipation and he picked at the hem of his pants with a half shrug. “That is good. So can I come see Donovan?”

“No.”

“What? But you said-"

"I said you had to perform this task and then you get to see him. You didn’t really perform this one though, did you?”

He blinked, stunned. “But Lex, I went to Hawaii. You said it could just be me and Donovan this time. And I really, really tried-"

“That’s hardly good enough. You can’t really expect a reward after such tremendous failure, can you?” Kon was silent. He hated to admit it, but Lex Luthor was right; he did fail. “You were overconfident and distracted. How did that work out for you?”

“Not great,” Kon admitted. "Maybe we should re-discuss our arrangement though. Now Superman knows about this, and-"

"And that does not matter to me. I was under the impression Clark already knew, isn't that right?"

Kon wanted to scream. He couldn't say enough-he couldn't stop Lex from making this decision. But he needed to see Donovan; the man was his first family. He was desperate.

“Wait, Lex, I’m really sorry, I made a mistake but I will-"

“Are you groveling?” The man bit out, and Kon’s mouth snapped closed. “I really cannot stand that.” Kon stayed silent while Lex let out an annoyed sigh, as though he were being forced to handle a disobedient child. “Anything else?”

“I can... I can try again. Just tell me where she will be next and I swear, I'll-“

“Enough!" Kon jumped, and listened helplessly as Lex spoke. "I lost a lot money here with your screw-up. And you’ve embarrassed me tremendously. It’s only fair you also suffer for that as much as I am. I thought you could handle this, but you clearly weren't good enough. No more calls. If I find it crucial to contact you again regarding a mission, I’ll make sure it’s an easy one, even something you can handle. You will still meet with me for check-ups, that is nonnegotiable because I need to make sure you are still safe to be around other people. But you won’t be seeing Donovan for a very long time-if ever again.”

A desperate cry lodged in Kon’s voice as Lex hung up the phone, leaving Kon to feel belittled and horrible as he listened to the empty dial tone. He clutched at his middle, thinking despairingly about how Kal was angry with him and Lex thought he was useless. He sniffed sadly and stood up on the roof, taking a step forward as his punishment sunk in-he was no longer being granted the opportunity to see Donovan. He worked so diligently, answering to Luthor's summoning-of all people-just to be rewarded with time to see his first family. And that was gone now.

His feet lifted from the roof and he slipped back into his room, soundless through the window as he landed sitting gloomily on his unmade bed. His eyes dragged around the room with pointless intention and fatigue until his ears perked up at the sound of approaching footsteps.

There was a sharp knock on his door, but before he could even muster the energy needed to open his mouth and invite them in, Kal opened the door and stepped inside, frowning and holding his hand out toward the clone. "No phone."

Kon blinked at him, face blank and slowly understanding the order. He lifted his cellphone to his father's hand and returned his own empty hand to rest heavy in his lap. Kal wore a disappointed grimace, and Kon's breath hitched when the alien turned around and stepped into the hallway again, closing the door behind him. Kon was left alone in his silent bedroom, staring at his walls as his eyes became misty. An uncomfortable tug in his chest drew a small whine from deep in his throat, and he swallowed thickly before a small cry fell from his lips.

His throat felt constricted and he roughly dragged a hand through his hair. Kon didn't want to cry now, not after getting in trouble like a small child, and he definitely did not want to feel remorseful for his actions, but a tear slipped from his duct and trickled down his cheek anyway. Kon scrubbed it away with a haughty huff and slipped between the sheets, burying his head in his pillow and allowing the material to absorb the annoying tears as he succumbed to crying. He didn't regret agreeing to work with Lex Luthor because he understood the intense stakes. Kon knew he needed to go to extremes to see his friend, and he already decided he wouldn't cross any villainous lines if the man were to ask. The tasks he completed were innocent.

Even the ones when he had to skip school or fight people in the middle of the night after curfew.

The admission sat thick on his tongue. Of course Kon was breaking some of the very few rules Kal asked him to abide by for a few weeks now-and this was after he blatantly went behind the alien's back to accept Lex's terms. The pair had talked about trust in the Fortress, how they needed to build trust with one another as a familial unit. And Kon was the one that broke that trust now.

His crying slowly morphed into a pathetic whimper, still muffled in his pillow and sticky from tears. But through the sounds of his thick hiccups, he heard Lois talking to Kal downstairs in the kitchen below him, the first sound to arise in several minutes. He held his breath to hear their conversation.

“Clark, what is going on with you?" Lois asked. "He snuck out of the house and he lied. He’s just a teenager, that’s normal.”

“You don’t understand,” Kal countered, and Kon swallowed heavy at the surprising tone in Kal’s voice. He didn’t sound disappointed or angry like he had before-he sounded terrified. “He was just laying there on the beach, his body was limp, and there were a few minutes when he wasn’t answering us. He wasn’t waking up. It-" Kal stopped and sighed a shaky breath. “It scared me. He shouldn't have been there in the first place, I told him he isn't allowed to leave this city without us knowing, and he traveled over an ocean. I had no idea he wasn't here. And telling us he heard someone shouting for help in Hawaii? That's obviously not true.”

“Honey, I’m sorry you had to see him like that. But he’s okay now, right? He’s here at home with us. And he’s hurt and defensive. And arguing and accusing him of lying isn’t going to solve anything, even if it's true. Something is going on and he needs to trust us to want to tell us. Then we can help him.” There was a short pause before Lois spoke again, "Clark, he’s a teenager. They tend to be rebellious by nature-that’s a fact. You were like it. I was like it. Your parents were like this too. Just wait a few years and before you know it, we will see it again with Jon."

"We better not see this again with Jonathan,” Kal stated plainly, with a slight hint of laughter in his voice.

"We will. It’s inevitable. He will skip school and lie to us too, just like every other kid. Now you need to fix this. Take a few minutes first, for both of your sakes, and then we can try again. You took his phone, so it's not like he can sit up there and distract himself from the problem. Kelex already confirmed he was fine, right?" There was a pause as Kal agreed. "Good. We need to talk to him about this woman that kissed him."

Kal hummed in agreement before whispering in a broken voice, "Lois, the way he was just lying there-"

"I know, I know-" Lois's soothing response was muffled as though she were pressed against something, and Kon understood without looking that the pair were hugging. He selfishly longed for a hug then, wishing to be in any situation besides sitting alone in his room, in trouble and without his phone. He didn't even have the opportunity to tell Tim he was home again.

He didn't consider what he must have looked like from Kal's point of view as he arrived. Kon was thrown around and hit several times before he was discarded on the beach, he could imagine he was pretty disheveled. Even after he first woke up, his mind was so muddled, and he must have looked pretty beaten to someone who was forced to watch his poor attempts at trying to move. And Kal was his parent. He sounded so sad downstairs, talking to Lois about what he had seen, and Kon never wished for that to happen.

He was beginning to regret his decision to accept Lex's offer without Kal's knowledge.

Kon sat up just enough to scrub the palms of his hands into his closed eyes, smearing his face with tears before settling back down into the pillow and slipping into a slumber soothed by the soft tune of Lois's continued whispered reassurances from downstairs. He blindly believed the words were for him too.

He was dragged back to consciousness slowly when a heavy hand rested on his shoulder. He peeled back from his pillow and blinked up groggily. The light fluttering in through the window had darkened, casting long shadows throughout the room as evening had set. Kal sat on the edge of his bed, and though he still wasn't smiling, his features had softened tremendously.

"Hey, bud," Kal whispered, and Kon blinked at him. "Are you ready to talk?"

Kon nodded, shuffling under the blanket until his legs were freed and he stood up, eyeing Kal with a bashful gaze. He couldn't even imagine the state he was in after crying himself into a nap, so he quickly ran a hand through his hair and scrubbed at his heavy eyelids as he followed Kal back downstairs. Lois was waiting for them in the kitchen again, and she smiled kindly at the clone as he slipped into his seat and swallowed nervously. He casually eyed his phone at the opposite end of the table. The house was more active now-he could hear Kara outside with Jon and Martha, sitting on the porch and talking about Jon's friends at school. Jonathan was in the barn, feeding dinner to the animals and humming happily.

Kon understood it was time to tell his family about the decision he made to accept Luthor's offer before the situation could worsen further. He reminded himself fleetingly that Kal had been worried about him-finding him hurt and unconscious on the beach like he did. And they deserved the hear the truth.

Before anybody else could open the conversation, Kon spoke. "I..." His voice was cut off with an embarrassing squeak, and his eyes flickered back to Lois, who was watching him with encouragement. "I've been-okay, well I talked to Luthor-"

Kal's gaze hardened and Kon paused again to wet his lips nervously. He could practically feel his telekinesis buzzing with pent-up anxiety, rattling his lungs and pounding against his chest like a heartbeat, begging for release. But he shoved it back down, dampening the threatening explosion and swallowed heavily before he could continue.

"I accepted his offer." Kon considered adding the admittance that he agreed to Lex without Kal's consent, but that fact was apparent to the room based on the reactions his statement received.

Lois's eyes were wide with disbelief, and Kal's lips parted as surprise colored his face entirely. "You what?" the alien asked softly.

Kon's cheeks were pink at the attention. "I agreed to Lex's deal. The one where I could visit Donovan in exchange for medical check-ups and missions."

"You were work-" Kal's voice faltered and he blinked rapidly as he attempted to process the information he had been given. "I don't understand. Why would you do that? After everything that man has done to hurt you-why would you agree to work with him?" Kon bit his lip and remained silent, and Kal's eyes flashed with rekindled warning. "How many of these 'missions' have you worked?"

Kon shrugged and whispered, "Several."

“Several?” Kal repeated, eyebrows shooting up in desperation. “Does several have a number?”

“I’m sorry," Kon stressed pathetically, looking frantically between the pair. He didn't really have a solid number, but he had a sick feeling that if he had to admit aloud that it definitely exceeded ten, Superman may have a coronary right there in the kitchen. Kon didn't want to think of dragging the alien to the Smallville hospital for medical treatment-that was a comedy he'd appreciate avoiding.

Kal pinched at the bridge of his nose and inhaled deeply before speaking again. “Okay. I need to know about every single task he sent you to do. Got it?” Kon nodded sheepishly. “We agreed on waiting until we could talk about it together.”

As though the statement ignited a flame in his chest, Kon suddenly frowned. “I waited until after the holidays, just like you said,” he hissed. “Those ended weeks ago, and you never said anything about Lex's deal again. You just didn’t want to talk to me about it, so I contacted Lex at the beginning of January.”

Kal's brows furrowed sadly, watching Kon for a silent pause. The clone braced himself for more chastising, but to his surprise Kal stated, "You're right. I didn't want to talk about it again, so I dropped it hoping the situation would dissolve. But Kon, Luthor cannot be trusted. I refuse to believe he has suddenly become a fair man overnight and that he would respect your privacy and autonomy. He is taking advantage of your abilities by dangling a friend in front of your nose."

Kon couldn't argue with that. It was exactly what was happening, he just ignored it because the deal was sort of working. Lex got to stick his nose in problems across the world, from a safe distance of course, and Kon was granted the opportunity to see Donovan. Hearing it now was like a sharp stab to his chest and he inhaled a shaking breath. It had been so difficult not to agree to the terms because Lex kept him coming back each time with new promises of meeting with the scientist.

"Is this why you have been skipping school? Because you were running errands for Lex?" Lois asked.

"Well, it's not like it was hard,” Kon snapped. “You’ve both been busy lately, you never even noticed me leaving the house.”

Shame flashed across both faces before him, and he lowered his gaze.

"You are right. I have been busy," Kal admitted. "And that isn't fair to you. I am sorry. I should have been around here more often for you, and I should have talked to you right after the holidays, like I said we would. But Conner, please tell me that you understand why this is a very dangerous deal."

He shuffled in his chair before nodding quickly. Of course he understood. He never once forgot the problems Lex Luthor created in his life-how he threatened him with kryptonite and intended to take over his body with mind control. He is ashamed to admit he may have allowed himself the comfort of ignoring those instances though, for the sake of seeing Donovan regularly.

"This was a lot of stress to take on by yourself. Why didn't you tell me about this sooner?" Kal asked softly, ducking his head to catch Kon's eyes.

"Because you would say no, and I wanted to see my friend."

Kal sighed, intertwining his fingers together on the table in front of them. He opened his mouth to speak, but the aggressive interruption of a high-pitched beeper startled the trio. The sound came from a small device resting on the kitchen counter behind them, and it was a sound Kon had become so accustomed to hearing because Superman was always needed. Kal stood up from the table and Kon fought the urge to scoff and roll his eyes. He knew it was silly to be upset that Kal was being called elsewhere-especially because this very well could mean he was no longer in trouble. But it still frustrated him to have Kal leaving in the middle of their conversation. He was relieved to find he wasn't the only one to find the timing inappropriate.

“Clark, you cannot leave right now," Lois stated firmly, standing up in mirror. "We need to keep talking about this.”

“It's the League," Kal responded in a breath. He paused to listen, though Kon couldn't hear anything past their own farm without reaching really far, and his head ached too much to try that. "Lois, this is an emergency. Turn on the news.”

Kon watched with an annoyed pout as Lois ran into the living room to click on the television and Kal raced outside to call his family in the house. The clone furrowed his eyebrows as he waited in the middle, his telekinesis sparking with anticipation deep in his chest.

"-and then I saw the ship coming in from the sky! This is so insane, I-" The man's voice on the television was frantic and terrified-the voice of someone who feared for their life, and Kon leaned back in his chair to peer into the adjacent room at the screen. He was quickly cut off and replaced by the startling sound of a bomb exploding before cutting back to the nervous news anchor.

“Oh my god,” Lois whispered to herself, and pulled her cellphone up to her ear to make a phone call. Kon swiveled back around when the front door swung open again and Kal entered carrying a confused-appearing Jon, with Kara and his parents just on his heels.

"I have to go now," Kal was quickly explaining. "You all need to stay here and stay safe, okay? At the first sign of this monster coming here, I will be back to bring you all to the Fortress." Kal sat Jon on the table right next to Kon's seat before turning to the clone and leveling him with a stern gaze. "Kon, we will finish this discussion when I get back, I promise. Until then, you will stay here in the house. Dinner will be on the table in an hour, don't miss that." He raced upstairs and returned changed in his El suit, still talking to Kon the entire time. "Make sure you eat enough and please try not to stay holed up in your room for the rest of the night, okay? I'll be back soon, and your phone is on the table-you can have that back. But do not leave this house under any circumstances. Understand?"

The room erupted in frantic sound as Lois and Jon both began talking to Kal-the former wishing him to be safe, and the latter asking loudly what was going on. Martha and Jonathan were talking to Kara, who had changed into her own suit in the span that Kon's attention was drawn to Kal. Jon's voice was the loudest, piercing through the chatter with his own worries. Kon couldn't help but feel for the kid, because he hardly knew what was going on himself, and he couldn't imagine being six on top of that. But Kal's gaze was still glued to the clone, and he nodded shortly.

Kal pulled both boys into a tight hug and whispered for their ears only, "I love you both. Be good."

He wished farewells to the rest of the family and sped from the house with Supergirl following close behind.

Dinner passed at a sluggish pace clouded in thick tension. The television was on mute, but Lois watched it anyway, glancing between the screen in the living room to the silenced iPad on the table in front of her, both showing two separate live feeds. Kon sat slumped low in his chair and he tried to focus on the questions Martha and Jonathan were asking him-engaging questions about his training at the Fortress and Tim, all topics he usually brightened up at the opportunity to discuss. But he couldn't stop himself from glancing at the blazing fires that lit up the screens-Footage From Europe, according to the caption.

He rested his chin on the table and stirred the food aimlessly on his plate, a similar motion compared to the rest of the table, and his eyes slipped closed.

“Kon-El.”

The sudden voice calling his name surprised him, and he knew to whom it belonged immediately. He stood up from his seat and blinked at the gazes his movement drew. Kon quickly excused himself from the table, claiming a need to use the restroom, before he raced upstairs and slipped silently out of his bedroom window. As he expected, Kon found Dabney Donovan standing outside in the cool, dusk air, waiting patiently yards away from barn, just right outside of their property.

“I hope you don’t mind my showing up unannounced, but I need to talk to you," the man stated in earnest when Kon flew up to him.

"How do you know where I live?” Kon asked softly, glancing around with wide eyes as though the rest of his family might have super-hearing too. But nobody came out of the house. He was alone with the doctor, and he had giddy excitement over the clear disobedience toward Lex.

“I peeked in your file.” Donovan was smiling, but there was no joy present in that face, and Kon sobered at that.

"Listen to me carefully; there are bad and dangerous things happening in this world right now. I am going to make this quick. I am not supposed to be here. If Lex knew, he'd be..." Donovan didn't finish the statement, but Kon understood the implication anyway. "But you needed to hear this. Lex is planning something big. Do you know what's happening in Europe?"

"The fires?" Kon asked, thinking back to the screaming voices on the television.

Donovan's smile reached his eyes then, but now they reflected melancholy. "Yes, the fires. Lex made an arrangement with an entity named Overmaster months ago, and he has arrived here on Earth, in Europe. The entire Justice League was called to fight against him, but Luthor set it up as a plan to distract Superman. Normally, we would all just wait this out and hope for the best, but this is very important to you in particular because Lex is planning on Superman being murdered tonight, and if not by Overmaster, then by you." Kon raised a disbelieving eyebrow, and he fought the urge to scoff at the absurdity of it all. "Lex is going to try to take you again now that Superman is distracted, and he will bring you back to his lab. He wants to finish his initial plan of mind control so he can utilize your abilities while the planet is in a crisis. And if Superman does not fall to Overmaster's hand, Lex is going to use yours to finish the job."

Kon was going to be sick. "At least Lex has achievable goals, I guess," he murmured dizzily. His chest tightened at the warning. "But... but I thought, after Superman talked to him a while ago, he wasn't trying to take me anymore. I thought he was satisfied with me working for him like I have been for a few weeks. Did that change today?" His question trailed off to a mere whisper, only a hint of sound in the evening breeze.

"Lex will never be satisfied until he has won and Superman has lost. And your freedom here, you living an honest life with a loving family, that is Superman's win in Lex's eyes. He wants to take you back and he knows he needs mind control to keep you now that you have attachments here. I know it's not fair, but you are being thrust in the middle of their ongoing feud yet again."

"But I agreed to work for him, why couldn't that be enough?" Kon asked miserably, fighting the urge to dig his fists into his eyes. He could not cry in front of Donovan. "Is this because I messed up today in Hawaii?"

"This was always his plan," Donovan lifted a hand to Kon's shoulder. "He was never going to be satisfied until he took you back."

"This really blows."

Donovan’s eyes appeared fond for a long moment, before he rubbed at his own exhausted eyes. “Kon-El. This is urgent. You need to be careful, okay? You know how he is when his mind is set on something. Take your family and hide somewhere, somewhere Lex can't find you. Can you do that?”

Kon nodded numbly, limply accepted a hug from Donovan before the man wished him good luck, and the clone slowly made his way back to the house. He slipped through his bedroom window as though a dizzy trance took over him mind and body, creating a ghost-like shell. He silently moved through the hallway and down the stairs, keeping from touching anything around him to announce his return. He wasn't really surprised to find his family had gathered in the living room, watching the flickering screen with terrified interest. Their dinner was left abandoned in the kitchen, leaving an unappetizing aroma that only turned his stomach.

Lois was holding Jon to her chest, and his face was tucked into the crease of her neck. She had turned to keep his peeking gaze away from the television that they could all hear. Martha and Jonathan were hugging one another with breaths held. They didn't hear him standing there.

He could never ask them to leave their house, the place that they all loved so much. The place Kon loved so much. He spared a quick glance to the framed photos littering the walls and the faces he had grown to love so dearly smiling in each of them. The expectation was unfair and if Luthor wanted his clone back, then Kon would take the fight directly to him. His family deserved to be safe in their own home, and Kon would grant them that right.

"-We have a reported fifty-three dead already, with several hundred injured. People are being asked to evacuate, but the roads are blocked as thousands of people flee their homes. The Justice League is on scene, but the following footage shows Green Lantern carrying who appears to be unconscious Hawkman away from the scene. Several reports showing the destruction is only growing tenfold as the alien species calling themselves Overmaster is spreading across cities."

"Come on, Clark," Martha whispered, and Jonathan held her tighter.

"The streets downtown are flooding after pipes burst in the Tour Majunga building. The hospitals and churches are full; people are being asked to report at least five miles outside of the Paris border before stopping for shelter."

The anchor cut back to footage taken at the scene. People are running and screaming, and the camera shook with effort. Someone was crying out in a raspy, cracked voice, "Please, someone please help us!"

"This is Lex Luthor's fault," Kon breathed. But nobody heard him. He backed away slowly, stepping back into the kitchen. "I will fix it, I promise," he mouthed to his family. And Jon turned his head to rest his opposite cheek on Lois's shoulder, watching Kon with large, round eyes as the clone turned on his heel and slipped toward the front door.

He needed to fix this.

For Kal. For his family watching it all on the news. For the dead and injured on television.

For forgiveness.

Kon understood now that he made several mistakes over the past few weeks. He was playing with fire, and the flames burned him back, taking unforgiving bites out of the people he loved too. He couldn't rely on Superman or Supergirl this time, as they were saving the world. But Kon knew what he had to do. He stepped outside onto the porch, clad in his El suit and nothing else, fabric torn at the knees and collar. He took in a slow, deep breath. The exhaust from Donovan's vehicle was already long gone, a scent carried away by the wind, and he hoped he could make it to Luthor's before the man even realized Donovan had considered traveling to Smallville.

Martha’s soft voice was muted by the walls between them, but that didn't muffle out her worry when she asked, “Kon?” He stepped out into the grass. “Conner? Lois, where did Conner go? Kon!”

He couldn’t turn back now. He floated up from the ground, grit his teeth with anticipation, and shot off into the sky.

Chapter Text

“-Reported fifty three dead already, with several hundred injured...”

Kon sped through the air, fists gripped tightly and held out in front of him even as his fingernails left deep prints in the skin of his palm, stretching across the sky in an attempt to reach his destination even faster. No matter how long he held his breath and clenched his teeth, the cries from television were still ringing loudly in his ears, swimming through his racing mind with a relentless passion that refused him peace. They acted as reminders that he needed to stop Lex.

“Please, someone please help us!”

He hadn't recovered from his battle with Knockout, still trembling when standing and plagued by a tenacious headache. But the fight that captured Superman's attention would not be put on hold for Kon to feel better, so he shook his head and pushed faster. The skyscraper appeared at the horizon with forbidding warning, and he squeezed his eyes shut in defiance-he wouldn't look at LexCorp until he had to. The whistling sounds of his forced exhale pierced between his clenched teeth and acted as the only disruption of the wind whipping around him in his fierce focus. News reports on televisions continued to scream from the homes below just as much as the memory of his own recent viewing, and he fought the urge to press shaking palms against his ears.

The sky was a deep blue around him, illuminated in color by the sprinkle of stars and the shade of pink kissing the shorter buildings surrounding LexCorp. The clouds were absent; the air was clear, though that realization brought him nothing. He swallowed heavy at the thought of his family calling out for him, searching the house and the farm but finding nobody. Kon absently wondered how long it took before Jon admitted he watched Kon leave, wearing a terrible expression of stricken determination. He should have been home. Kal made it clear that he required Kon to stay put, offering no leeway to leave the moment he felt it necessary, and the rest of his family expected the same. Even Donovan risked his life to warn Kon to stay with his family.

But he couldn't afford to doubt himself now. He had to confront the man responsible for the onslaught of destruction and force Luthor to end it. Superman wasn't available in Metropolis, and it was up to Superboy.

Though he still hated that damned name.

A reluctant eye slipped open as he approached LexCorp, and Kon stopped just outside of Lex's office, frozen with his fist hovered over the glass window. He could hear the man inside the building, heart beating as a normal rhythm and close enough to hear someone in his office. Kon intended on simply knocking and waiting to be let in-he really did. But he was angry.

The sound of pierced shattering yanked him from the cloudy daze, and he slipped in through the broken window, floating as he moved through the office to avoid the shards of glass. The anxious scuffle did not come as a surprise, nor did the immediate following of rapid footsteps as Lex Luthor raced into the room. He held a mug that smelled of bitter coffee, despite the late hour, and he wore a bewildered expression. Luthor came to a stop when he saw Kon, and his surprise morphed into annoyance as he slowly took in the scene before him.

"Did you just break that window?" he growled, though his steady tone proved he already knew the answer.

"Yes." Kon easily stepped forward through the air, moving further into the room at a downward angle until he met the carpet and felt his weight settle in his legs.

"Why?" Lex grit out, but he was met with silence as Kon didn't offer an explanation. He scoffed in exasperation and turned back to the window, shaking his head and taking a slow sip of coffee. "The both of you-I swear. You are costing me too much money." Kon knew without clarification that Lex was referring to Superman, and the memory of Kal bursting through the same window would have brought a chuckle to his lips if not for everything else about their current scenario. "I would bill you for it too, if you ever accepted any royalties for your many saves that I asked of you."

Kon moved through the room, tiptoeing toward the office door that was still ajar on its hinges. He didn't speak.

"Which of course, you aren't. Still afraid of the spotlight?" A flash of surprise crossed Luthor's face when this question was also ignored. "Some people offer media coaching; perhaps you would benefit from a couple classes and finally share that bubbling personality with the world."

The clipped sentence sounded like anything but a compliment, and Lex placed his mug to the short table resting next to the office door. The click of ceramic against wood was deafening amidst the pointed tension. Kon passed in front of the couch and leveled Lex with a distrusting scowl.

"I'm still very disappointed with you by the way," Lex retorted haughty, filling the uncomfortable silence and circling the room in a direction opposing his guest. The venomous warning in his voice was clear and Kon fought the urge to retreat back through the shattered window. "I am so embarrassed by your failure today. It's shameful."

Lex narrowed his eyes on the clone, determining something in his gaze that reflected an angry understanding.

"You're awfully quiet today. Did you come here to see Donovan?" Lex stopped by a small chair-side table, his hand hovering just over the wood as Kon dipped lower into a defensive stance, chest filled with a sudden influx of anticipation. Lex only picked up a strand ink pen, clicking the top of it twice before tucking it into the pocket of his slacks innocently. "How naughty. I already told you no. You didn't earn a visit."

Lex stepped around the small table, strolling freely toward his main desk where his opposite fingers danced across the top in a lively performance. Kon clenched his jaw expectantly, eyes sharp on every movement. But Lex only straightened a stack of papers, lining the edges up to the corner of the desk as his voice dropped to a timbre that sent chills traveling down Kon's spine. "Besides, he's out for the day."

He stopped by the lamp now, a soft glow illuminating the office from the top right corner of his desk, and he reached out for it slowly as Kon stiffened, eyes now set ablaze with anguished red. The man paused with the tip of his second finger lingering over the metal knob. And in a blink, he clicked the lamp off and the room darkened, only lit then by the moonlight peering in and the faint glow provided by the clone's red eyes. Lex's expression was clouded in the darkness, flashing only a frightening smirk right before the light was snuffed out and the shadows of the office hid his face.

"But I guess you already knew that."

The tension was palpable as the pair stood waiting and watching one another from opposite sides of the office. The steady tick of the clock against the wall and an incessant drip in a pipe several floors below were the only signals of the passage of time, and even the former seemed to slow impossibly in anticipation. Silence befell the building otherwise; Kon didn't even hear a hint of maintenance or janitorial staff, which he felt to be excellent given the unavoidable fight. The clock's hand moved to each second, thundering loudly and filling the quiet room. It nearly covered up the sound of a steady heartbeat, one he believed to belong to Luthor.

Kon dropped to a crouch and slapped his palms to the carpet, squeezing his eyes shut with effort as his telekinesis rocked the office. He couldn't allow the man to escape him now, not when people were suffering due to his traitorous decisions. Lex stumbled back, crashing into the rolling chair before losing his balance and falling to the floor behind his desk. Kon released another rolling wave of energy and pressed his toes into the carpet in preparation to shoot off in the direction of the villain, but there was a sudden weight on his back as someone jumped onto him. His eyes snapped open and he gasped at the confusing change; and he realized the heartbeat he heard was not Lex's after all.

"Conner, I recommend surrender. It'll be far less painful for you," the man warned from his hidden spot in the darkness. "Either way, you will end up in the exact same position, but with far fewer consequences if you stop now. You will prefer the easier transition, I promise."

Surrender was not an option for Kon, not with his family afraid in their home and Kal across the seas fighting a planet-devouring alien that Luthor summoned. Kon thrashed wildly under the attack, grunting abrasively to the tune of Lex sighing and muttering softly, "Have it your way then."

A new sound of metallic whirring pierced his ears at the exact moment an arm came into his view-the first piece of visual evidence that he was under the attack from someone he hadn't heard or seen in the room. He wasn't even sure if they had been in the room the entire time or slipped in after Lex turned out the light.

"Be still," a woman's voice hissed at his ear.

Kon sent out a warning ripple of telekinesis from his skin, hoping to shake the attacker off of him and jump up into a fighting stance, but he felt the bony knees pressing into his sides tighten, digging deeper into him in warning. To his horror, the arm in his view opened at an invisible seam from the tip of the middle finger to the elbow, and the skin parted to show a robotic device coming to life in its wake. He let out a confused, terror-stricken yelp as he shot straight up in the air, moving toward the cieling with speed in an attempt to knock his passenger off and distance himself from the arm. He felt the collision of her back crashing into the plaster cieling, but her actions weren't deterred as the opposite arm snaked around his neck, tightening. He jerked and bucked, but she held on tight like a mechanical-bull rider, and he cried out in frustration.

The metallic device that had replaced a very human-appearing arm moved closer to his face, now presenting a plastic mask. He shook his head vehemently and reared back for difficulty, but the attacker sealed the mask over his mouth and before he could make a sound, a burst of green smoke was emitted. The burning coated his tongue and throat until he was choking on it.

Kryptonite.

Kon dropped down once again, falling through the air and landing hard on his hands and knees. One shaking hand clawed desperately behind him, swishing aimlessly through air, while the other threaded into the carpet for support. He only had the shortest moment before the kryptonite would completely render him  defenseless, and he would be forced to suffer at the mercy of Lex Luthor. His skin was crawling and his stomach ached; he blinked rapidly in a fruitless attempt to clear his blurred vision of the dark room. A pounding headache dried his mouth and the words previously sitting on his tongue vanished with a small squeak. He reached up slowly, a Herculean task monitored by the ticking clock on the wall, before ripping the mask away and coughed harshly as he crushed the plastic in a tight fist. There was a small sense of relief that the mysterious stranger didn't bat his hand away or stop him, though that hardly mattered. The weight disappeared from his back, but he was already dizzy.

A thick boot landed on the center of his back, kicking him down to lay flat on his stomach, and a sharp needle was shoved into his neck.

***

An annoying sound of pathetic mewling greeted Kon upon waking up, something that he registered to come from his own throat with furrowed brows only as it vanished when he swallowed the thick saliva that had accumulated in his mouth. An ugly, metallic taste sat on his tongue and Kon ached for a glass of water.

The abrupt conclusion of his unconscious whining alerted Kon's captor of his wakefulness, and Lex spoke out humorlessly from a few feet away. “Are you finally back with us?”

The memories came back quickly-he recalled with ease coming to the office, smashing the window in entrance, and then promptly losing to someone who jumped on his back and forced kryptonite in his lungs. And by the chill in the air and the slight echo hovering behind Lex's words, Kon knew he was back in the horrible laboratory. He considered keeping his eyes closed and simply falling back asleep to deal with the dreadful situation a different day. He was still exhausted and shaking, and the last thing he wanted to do was open his eyes and find Lex Luthor grinning like the winner that he was. But there was still the frustrating ticking of a clock, louder this time in a larger room, and acting as a reminder of his promise to himself and his family. He needed to stop Lex and end the fight in Europe before Superman could be hurt.

He peered a bleary eye open and blinked slowly at the piercing light. Despite knowing where he was, Kon still felt a horrible pang of disappointment and defeat to confirm that he was ensnared by his creator in the basement lab once again. Lex was standing in front of him as expected, but the man wasn't grinning.

"I trust you've had enough time to calm down. If you need to sleep longer, though, I can arrange that." The threat was clear and he held up a long, shimmering needle, the same one that left Kon's neck feeling stiff when he looked around the room.

He was strapped to a medical bed, propped upright with his wrists and ankles fastened to the metal slates lining the bed. He tugged at the sturdy locks that glowed a specific green from within, but they didn't budge and his persistent weakness made sense as they were woven with the stone. The florescent lights reflected angrily off the glass surfaces scattered across the room, making the room appear brighter despite his hollow feeling. The large tubes containing bodies from previous experiments had been pushed back to the very edge of the room where they hugged the walls, and Kon felt a strange relief in finding that there was no longer one waiting for him. Hope was a fiery risk that had only burned him thus far though, and he pushed that thought away for later. Lex slowly replaced the needle to a small table next to him, wearing a smug smile now at Kon's stunned silence, and a slight movement from behind Lex captured the clone's attention. Kon stretched his neck to find Dabney tied up and sitting on a small stool behind the medical table. A large strip of tape covered his mouth, but his eyes were wild with warning as he looked back at Kon.

With sudden vigor and the overwhelming need to rescue the man, Kon wiggled in his restraints. Just like his prior attempt, there was no indication of progress and a new whine stuck at the back of his throat. Considering Donovan's presence, he wondered how long he had been unconscious, and now that it was someone else's life on the line besides his own, Kon was desperate for a solution. The moment his lips parted, Lex moved and spoke out a sharp warning that froze Kon in place like ice.

"If you call for Clark, I will shoot Donovan in the head this very second."

Lex wasn't smiling any longer, holding a gun to Dabney and resting the barrel just above his brow. Kon blanched, eyes wide and teeth digging painfully into his lower lip as the beginning of his cry for help bubbled into a pitiable whimper in the back of his throat. He shook his head hurriedly, heart pounding and breath quick. Kal was quicker than a bullet of course, everyone knew that, but he was halfway around the world and in the middle of a battle. The risk that Superman would hear and arrive before Lex could pull the trigger was too narrow and too great.

"Behave," Lex hissed darkly.

Kon nodded in stupor, eyes glued to Donovan's face as the man trembled with his eyes snapped shut tight in terror. He was breathing heavily through his nose, a quick and forced sound that proved to be panting. Kon nodded again; he could do that. He could behave and save Donovan.

The air only returned to his lungs when Lex lowered the gun.

He wasn't sure why the man would come back to this building after risking his life warning Kon of Luthor's great, evil plan. And his presence definitely added an unforeseen complication, but he was taught to take surprises in stride, and he turned back to Lex.

"Who was that person?" he whispered, quickly glancing around the lab again. He had missed noticing her arrival once already, and he couldn't allow that opportunity again. "From before?"

"Mercy."

"She's intense."

"She has an interesting cybernetic arm, doesn't she?" Lex chuckled before all hints of humor vanished from his face, replaced with a large, disappointed frown. "And I will call her down here if I need to, just like last night. She's always happy to go another round with persistent problems. So naturally, she would love you."

"Last night?" he choked out in bewilderment. "What time is it? How long have I been out?"

The ticking of the clock sounded from behind him, and the underground laboratory had no windows.

"It's morning now," Lex answered flippantly. "We've established you won't be calling for Superman any time soon, and we can also trust to not be interrupted by him. He's still rather busy." At Kon's apprehensive grimace, a small smile crawled against Lex's features. "Turns out fighting a maniac from space is a little time-consuming. No matter. We won't miss him, and we certainly have important information to discuss with one another, isn't that right?"

Lex moved closer now, steps tracked by Donovan's wary gaze, until he stood by Kon's side. The air felt foreboding around the pair and Kon's eyes fell quickly to rest in his own lap. His mind was reeling and he needed to think of a plan, something that became increasingly difficult under Lex's scrutiny. But with Superman's rescue no longer an option, he needed to find a way out of the kryptonite clasps so he could rescue Donovan and retreat to safety. It wasn't ideal to put his initial plan on hold, but Dabney deserved safety first and then he could find a way to-

"Look at me," Lex whispered, and Kon's eyes crawled up to the man. "Do you remember what I told you so many weeks ago when you were here at the lab?"

Kon blinked, voice hitched in terror. "The first time?" Lex nodded. "You said..." Kon's gaze flicked uncomfortably between Lex and Donovan before he swallowed and tried again. "You said to go back in the tube."

Lex's expectant expression fell away and left irritation in its wake. "That is true. But do you remember what else I said that day? Something about this..." and he held up the Krypto-syringe. Kon winced, swallowing and pushing his head back away from the man. He definitely remembered that threat. "Answer me, Thirteen."

Kon scowled angrily at the revert back to that horrible nickname, but the awful, spoiling green emanating from the syringe caught his attention, brighter now as the light shone through the glass, and his petulant attitude crumbled in defeat.

He gulped. "I rem-" his voice fell away to silence. Of course he remembered. He thought about Lex's threats of murder often, followed shortly by the nightmarish memory of the kryptonite-necklace and the scientists that attacked him. This syringe acted as more than a stick to keep him in line-it was a promise that if he messed up bad enough in the eyes of Lex Luthor, the man would simply create a fourteenth clone and add Kon's body to the other trophies soaking in formaldehyde against the walls.

"Speak up," Lex reprimanded.

"I remember."

Lex stepped back, appearing self-satisfied at the answer as he replaced the syringe to the table.

"Think of that over the next few minutes. I think I am being very extremely forgiving, don't you? And we have a lot to talk about." He didn't wait for an answer, walking around the bed to Kon's opposite side and waving a hand toward Donovan, who was now unobstructed in Kon's view. "First, I want to know what this man told you."

Kon's heart hammered loud in his chest, accompanied by Dabney's rapid rate. He felt sour to realize that Lex's heart was beating at a perfectly comfortable rhythm, despite being someone who should be repentant of the damage his actions were causing around the world. And he would have been, Kon knew, if he hadn't been caught by the woman named Mercy. But he couldn't think of that right now, because Lex was still waiting on an answer, appearing angrier by the second.

"He said my check-up was normal. And I am getting stronger." Those were both true enough, though it was information given to him during his last allowed visit rather than the surprise one in Smallville. Lex's eyes narrowed, and he waited. Kon chewed on his lip, thinking of his other results from the same check-up. "He said that my control over my powers is getting better and-"

"And you are wasting my time," Lex finished for him, drumming his fingers on the bed next to Kon's toes. "You know that isn't what I'm asking."

A muffled grumble drew their attention, and Kon turned to find Donovan hissing vehemently through the tape, glaring at Luthor. The man shrugged casually, walking back toward him, ignoring Kon's revived struggling attempts to catch his attention again now that it was turned back on Dabney. "You want to be the one to answer my question then?"

He ripped the tape off roughly, and Donovan and Kon wore matching winces.

"Luthor, enough," Dabney rasped, panting for a moment before he could speak again. "Stop toying with him; he isn't going to answer. I told him about your plan with Overmaster and Superman's death. I am the one that sought him out-you don't need to keep him locked up like this; you're scaring him."

Lex seemed to consider this before turning to Kon and asking in a steady voice, "And what was your plan after receiving this information?"

Kon answered honestly, "I was going to bring you to Europe... and you were going to tell Overmaster to get lost."

Lex sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in obvious disappointment at his lack of showmanship. Kon had to bite back a grin too, humor blatantly out of place in that conversation. "Do you know why I struck a deal with Overmaster?"

"Because you are insane and obsessed with seeing Superman dead."

Just before the danger flickered across Lex's eyes, Kon realized the mistake in his answer. He wasn't really in a position where he was able to get away with foolhardy remarks like that, and he was just threatened with the death-syringe. His fear was proven as Lex reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a shard of kryptonite, so similar in size to the one Kon had worn as a necklace, but this one was sharper. Kon watched the stone with wide eyes and a trembling lip as Lex held it up to the light. The mere feet from Kon was enough for him to groan in pain.

"Your incessantly poor behavior needs to stop. I think some self-preservation might do you a bit of good, don't you think?" Lex's voice was an icy whisper, cutting through the silence with power. "I have seen Superman buckle in defeat with this very stone stuck in his chest. How do you think you would hold up against it in your leg?"

Kon quieted.

"We need to talk with haste because your exposure to the kryptonite cuffs is already going on longer than expected, and prolonged exposure can damage you. But damage or not, you shouldn't be rude. I asked you a fair question, and you responded with insolent attitude. You know by now that I do not accept that."

He stepped closer and held the kryptonite against Kon's throat, who swallowed back the wave of sickness and nausea that accompanied a sharp stabbing of pain throughout his body. His breath caught in his throat with discomfort, gaping with desperation as his chest pounded.

"I struck a deal with Overmaster because I need Superman gone. He is disastrous for this planet, for our species, and he is no longer welcomed on this earth. He refuses to leave on his own, so I contacted someone who could give him a little incentive. His death is merely a bonus. Donovan had no business telling you about this, because you were not supposed to be troubled with such a responsibility yet. But since he did, I suppose that makes this conversation a little simpler." Lex paused and pointedly ignored Donovan scowling as his name was mentioned. "Based on your failure in Hawaii, it seems I have misplaced my trust in your lone abilities. You have disposed of any possible continuation of our working relationship as is, and I realize I need to be more involved."

Kon's mind spun at the implication that he was the one to ruin their trust rather than Lex, who evidentially planned on taking control over his mind regardless of the agreement he was forced into by Superman so many months ago.

"You acted like a deranged, spoiled child throwing a fit last night, and that is further proof that you need this. You need my help."

Lex pulled a metal brief case out of its hidden spot behind the table, and he placed it in Kon's view. Donovan was talking, rambling something frantically that Luthor purposefully ignored and Kon couldn't hear as he leaned forward. The case was unlocked with a loud snap that echoed throughout the room and Kon found he was holding his breath as the lid was opened. The contents didn't make sense at first-a knotted bundle of colorful wires and stickers, something that looked like the cords sticking into the back of the TV at the farm. Lex pulled it out, holding it carefully to show the stickers were in the shape of a dome, and he held it up level to Kon's head.

"I'm taking over from here."

Kon wanted to scream.

"Lex, come on," Donovan stressed. "He doesn't need that, he already agreed to work with you."

Mind control.

Kon shook his head persistently. "I don't want that-"

"Lex," Donovan's voice grew louder with panic. "You don't need to do that, he-"

"This will be quick," Lex murmured as he stepped closer. Kon would have found the sudden shift in tone to be supportive and comforting if it wasn't attached to the person planning on ripping away his autonomy. "In just a few minutes, you won't have to worry about anything ever again. I will make all of those pesky decisions for you, and you won't have to suffer from kryptonite ever again."

Kon whined as Lex leaned over him and draped the helmet of wires over his scalp, still muttering about just how wonderful this horrible change would be. Kon pulled at his arms desperately, searching eagerly around the room for any chance of escape that he may have missed earlier. But Lex was right; he was suffering due to the kryptonite, growing weaker each second. His head was pounding and he felt exhausted. "Lex, please. Can't we just keep it the same? I already agree to all of your requests, and if you want me to talk to the reporters after missions, I will do that."

Lex tisked. "You are distracted, Thirteen."

He swallowed a sob at the number and shook his head.

"You are distracted by things as insignificant as school. Family." He tightened the Velcro strap that hugged Kon's forehead, eliciting a soft gasp as the material dug into his skin. "Romance."

Cold hands hovered over the clone's face, slipping from his temple and stopping at his ear. Kon sat in frozen horror as Lex snapped the release on his earring and slid the hoop out of his lobe.

"You weren't made for that."

"But-" he faltered, knowing any complaint now would just come across as childish begging, and Lex wasn't going to budge on this. He needed the restraints lifted. "No tube this time?"

Asking the question felt like a slap in his own face since he would do anything to avoid the terrors of floating in cold liquid gel, but he was counting on moving from the bed to the tube allowing him the brief opportunity to fight back. Even weakened from the rock, he was stronger than Lex. If he could get to him before Mercy showed up, he had a high change of escaping.

"We don't need it." Kon bit back a curse as his plan was immediately foiled. "You are strong enough, we've witnessed that plenty of times. Your check-ups were useful and I've seen you work missions. Even the one you failed."

The comment was pointed, and Kon had to wet his lips with an anxious flick of his tongue. It wasn't fair. He had been promised a life. He had a family waiting at home for him, and he had a name of his own. Kon's head lowered in defeat, eyes filling with a melancholic mist as the situation seemed hopeless.

And then he heard it.

A faint heartbeat in the ventilation above him, followed by the soft patter of fingers tapping away on a keyboard.

His chest leapt with recognition quickly morphing into excitement, and he bit back an amused laugh. Now he needed to get rid of the man for just a moment.

"Lex?"

The man met him with an arched eyebrow.

"Can I have some-" he coughed and cleared his throat. "Can I have some water?"

Lex blinked in disbelief, before his eyes narrowed and he demanded, "Are you serious?"

"Please," Kon begged easily now, ears perked to the person above him even as he continue. "I'm really thirsty, and the kryptonite is making me cough."

To his relief, Lex sighed in annoyance and rolled his eyes as he stood up. "Sure, kid." He moved toward the elevator before stopping and adding with a nod toward Donovan, "You might as well say goodbye to one another." And then he disappeared behind the elevator doors.

Kon's shoulders relaxed for the first time since the previous morning, and he released a slow, relieved exhale.

"Kon-El, what are you doing?" Donovan hissed. "I told you to hide, not come straight to Lex and pick a fight. And what is this about the water? You want to talk to me alone?"

Kon just raised his gaze and waited.

On cue, the vent grate popped off, dropping an inch before it was caught and pulled back into the vent at an angle. Robin dropped out of the vent, landing in a silent crouch and grinning widely at his audience.

"Robin-" Kon yelped excitedly, leaning forward despite the pull on his wrists and head, but Tim sprang forward on the balls of his feet and wrapped a hand around the clone's mouth, pressing his opposite pointer finger to his own lips.

He leaned forward, stopping by Kon's ear and whispering, "I've deactivated the cameras in the lab. Mic's are still up though."

Tim peeled back and waved politely at Donovan before typing quickly on his computer gauntlet. He knelt down, examining the restraints and tapping on the buttons Kon didn't even notice lining the bed and metal cuffs. Kon watched in stupor and awe, chest blooming with delight and hope, and the pain of the kryptonite was forgotten. Finally, he was released with a small hiss of metal, and he surged forward until his fingers found the back of Tim's neck, pulling him closer and breathing against Tim's lips, "Thank you".

His eyes were hidden behind the domino mask, but Tim's cheeks were blushed at the appreciation as he tugged at the Velcro strap. At the release, Kon eagerly shoved the device from his head, ignoring the pull of adhesive from his skin and hair, and he slipped off the medical bed to stand on wobbling legs. Tension had already seeped from his shoulders and the heavy weight in his throat and head disappeared as he distanced himself from the kryptonite-encrusted cuffs.

"I can't believe you are here," he mouthed to Tim, who worked diligently at untying Donovan from his chair.

"I will always come," Tim promised. "We can't stay here long. Lex has kryptonite, and you are already weak. He will be back soon."

Kon knew that, but a shimmering reflection of light caught his eye, and he turned to stare at one of the previous experiments, still bottled up in their tube and deformed. Anger bubbled up in his chest, a hot kind of pain tickled behind his eyes, and he wanted Lex to suffer. Twelve whole attempts of creating life preceded him, none given the chance at having a family like Kon was granted the past few months. And even that luxury was nearly ripped from him. He thought of Jon and Kara playing games and his grandparents loving him. He thought of Lois asking about his day and Kal's arms wrapped around him. He thought of school, no matter how insufferably boring it was, and he thought of flying. He thought of Tim.

Lex was moments away from taking that away from the clone, ripping all thoughts from his head and replacing it with whatever destruction he wanted. Like the destruction in Europe meant to murder Superman.

He moved before he knew it, and the sound of glass shattering filled the room. He saw Donovan and Tim jump in surprise, neither of them previously watching Kon, but they turned to find him standing over the medical table, holding the remnants of a glass beaker in his clenched fist. His healing was already returning with his distance from the rock, but the shards still cut him.

He didn't care.

"Kon-?" Tim's voice was soft, holding a hint of confusion, but the clone didn't hear it.

He picked up a rack of test tubes and brought them down with vigor, cracking them over the table and relishing in the sound of shattering work. Lex didn't deserve to keep his laboratory, and Kon should have destroyed it a long time ago. He knocked over the medical table, sending sheets of papers flying and more glassware burst. The sight was pleasurable and he spun around to turn over the medical bed, relishing in the emphatic squeal of metal against tile. He picked up the bundle of wires that previously decorated his head, now in a heap on the floor, and tore them apart with strength that was steadily increasing. Finally, he zipped around the room, dodging watching eyes and tearing the laboratory apart in the loudest, most satisfying way.

He left the tubes containing creatures intact.

When he finished, he stopped again in the center of the room, panting heavily and allowing his eyes to close in relief. And his heart nearly stopped when he heard a voice speak up.

"How impressive."

The hair at his neck stood up and raised bumps danced across his arms. Tim had suggested they leave as soon as he untied Donovan; he had warned them that Lex wouldn't be gone for long. But he couldn't stop himself. He felt the destruction was required of him-that it was owed to him. And he was the reason they were still in the laboratory when the man returned, holding a plastic cup of iced water. Kon dragged furious eyes to him and found Lex frowning calmly.

"Robin," the man sneered. "What a surprise. Shouldn't you be at home, being a nuisance with Batman in your own city?"

"Batman is a bit busy," Robin quipped with a playful smirk, but Kon could hear his rapid pulse. "Apparently a crazed alien wants to take over the whole planet. Haven't you heard?"

"You aren't going to leave then?" Lex asked, frowning deeply. Robin shook his head, and Lex's hand fell to his side, slipping into the jacket pocket. "Pity Batman couldn't say goodbye to his third bird."

Kon heard a small click from the pocket, and the room succumbed to silence a mere second before the door leading to the stairwell tore open. A woman stepped through, who Kon believed to be Mercy, followed shortly by a low, booming noise that shook the walls. The tile floor wavered weakly, and Kon pressed up on his toes until he was hovering over the shaking structure.

Recognition reflected in Donovan's eyes as he turned to Kon, shaking his head firmly and ordering him to leave. Tim grit his teeth together in anticipation.

A towering robotic-appearing body came through the door, whirring at the hinges and locking sight on the clone. It was grey and black in color and bulky particularly in the chest and biceps. It almost looked like a children's book rendition of a space suit. The sharp smell of metal filled the room, and Kon stumbled back a step in surprise, whispering with his jaw ajar, "What is that thing?"

“War suit,” Robin answered, closing the short distance between him and Kon, and ended up standing right in front of the clone protectively.

Kon watched in horror as the suit walked on its own right up to stand behind Lex Luthor, and it began to change shape. The metal morphed around Lex as though it were melting and rebuilt surrounding the man, and sudden he was inside the war suit. Kon blinked, impressed at the science and terrified at the oncoming battle. The room was still for several anxious breaths until Mercy made the first move, surprising Kon as she jumped toward Robin instead and she quickly dodged the first swing of his staff.

Lex moved next, protected and enhanced in the war suit as he barreled toward Kon. Before the clone could prepare a defensive attack, he was smacked across the room with strength that he could only compare to Kryptonian. He pushed up on his knees, panting from his weakened state and wishing more than anything for sleep back in his own room at the farm.

He blinked blurry vision until he found Lex approaching again, fist raised and visible expression furious.

"Thirteen, I warned you-" he spat venomously, and Kon shrank back.

The return of his number stalled his confidence and his mind was flooded with anxieties about the past he had faced and the future Lex was threatening. He didn't see the fist drop, but he screamed when it connected with the back of his head, and he was thrown into the tile floor that crumbled under the impact of his face. Kon rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding another hit and he pushed himself back up to his feet, fists raised in defiance.

"Kon, switch me!" Robin ordered.

Before he could respond, Tim jumped between them, blocking attacks and evading punches. Mercy moved again, quicker this time and moving straight for Robin in an attempt to recapture his attention. But similar to his own rescue, Kon dove in front of her and delivered a mighty shove with his telekinesis. She was thrown back against the opposite wall, narrowly avoiding Donovan by an inch. Kon advanced just as she pushed up to her feet, and her arms were replaced with metal machines. Moving away from Lex provided him with a clearer mind, and he was used his telekinesis and flight to keep Mercy occupied.

After a muffled explosion sounded and smoke flittered around the room, Kon turned to find an angry cloud encompassing Robin and Lex. Frustrated grunts and thuds acted as proof that the pair were still breathing, and Kon dove into the mess to find Tim slap another small magnetic device to the metallic leg of the war suit. It flashed a warning red light before it blew up too, and Lex was brought down to his knees, growling angrily at his opponent. Quicker than Kon could register, Tim ducked forward and pulled a small silver tube from his belt. He pierced the tube with his thumbnail and it emitted a stinging gas that left Lex clawing viciously in a panic. But Robin had already dove back, pressing a rebreather in his mouth and tossing two to Kon. Without instruction, he placed one in his mouth and helped Donovan with the other. And within a few seconds the gas stretched across the entire lab. Lex's eyes slipped closed and he fell to the ground, followed soon by Mercy.

"Easy peasy," Tim chirped, panting harshly and holding his abdomen protectively, nursing blossoming bruises and sore breaks that Kon was thankful he couldn't see.

"Holy shit," Kon murmured, blinking in awe at the unconscious pair. "Maybe you should be the one to teach me how to fight, Rob."

"After the mess you made in my room the last time? In your dreams."

Kon blushed at the memory of losing concentration of the force behind his telekinetic punch because he was distracted by Tim. He ducked around a half shove, swearing to get Tim back as soon as the opportunity arises, and he moved back to Donovan's side. The climb through the miserable staircase was tedious, but an effort Kon shared with Tim as they each supported Donovan, whose arms were draped around their shoulders while he murmured dazed appreciations to both boys. And when they stepped out of LexCorp into the bright, blinding sunlight, they breathed in the clean air.

"We make a pretty solid team,” Tim noted, holding up a gloved fist, and Kon bumped his naked hand against Tim's.

“Hell yeah." Kon smiled weakly. "Is Overmaster the reason Batman has been in Europe so much?"

"Lex is sneaky, but Batman is smarter," he announced with a nod, tapping a forefinger to his own temple.

"No shit," Kon murmured, running a trembling hand through his hair. Donovan stumbled to a sidewalk bench and caught his breath while the young pair spoke excitedly of the heroics they had just managed. Only when the obvious question came to mind, Kon asked, "How did you know I was here?"

"Your brother called me." Tim leaned heavily on his bo staff, and snickered at Kon's surprised look. "He heard you and your scientist friend talking about how you were in danger last night. Jon said your dad was gone and he wanted another hero in the house." Tim paused the recollection to scoff, but the blush over his cheeks was vibrant.  "I figured I should get here fast, so I borrowed the bat jet. Which... you know, we will just keep between us if possible. I flew to the farm, but you were already gone, and I borrowed your parents' truck. By borrowed, I definitely mean stole. But-But I couldn't really be secretive if I arrived here in a jet and landed right on the LexCorp rooftop. Luckily no one saw me, except for your brother. He was pretty insistent on coming too. I swear his feet weren't touching the ground for like... three seconds straight at one point."

Donovan watched the front door anxiously as though the malicious pair were going to resurface any second, and he asked, "Where did you leave this truck, kid?"

Tim paused and looked out at the road, frowning. "I left it right here."

"Here?" Donovan clarified, motioning with a slight hint of amusement. "In front of the fire hydrant?"

Kon watched the interaction with a furrowed brow, and his eyes widened when Tim groaned loudly, slapping a palm to his forehead.

"Damn it."

“Okay, what does that mean? Where did it go?” Kon demanded of the pair impatiently. “You left the truck here, so where is it now?”

“Kon-El, parking towed it. It was parked illegally," Donovan sighed. "I was taken from my house early this morning, so I do not have a vehicle here either."

“Did you know you couldn’t park there?” Kon asked, bewildered.

“It's a Sunday, I thought it would be fine! Plus, I was a bit distracted, you know... saving you from a future of zombie-like mind control!” Tim hid behind a hand, covering his domino mask as he whined, "Superman is going to kill me. I got his truck confiscated by parking and he's going to have to pay a fee just to get it released-my life is over now."

Kon didn't really have a fair argument then. Tim did save the day and it surely was a weekend day. And he was fairly certain Superman could simply find his truck and grab it before anyone knew what happened.

"Okay, we need to get out of here before the cops show up. They'll look at the wreckage and stick me in a zoo somewhere. I can carry you both back home to my house, and Lois can help us. She always knows what to do. Donovan, climb on my back like this-" Kon pointed at his back and squatted down, bending slightly at the waist. He beckoned Tim forward, arms reaching out to scoop him up to his chest. "And Rob, I will carry you-"

"Kon-El."

The relieved voice acted as the briefest warning before a body came swooping in, crashing into Kon and wrapping around him fervently. He peered a hesitant eye open and found his face pressed against the House of El symbol printed over a broad chest, and Kal stood holding Kon in his arms, squeezing him in a hug and breathing deeply at his hair. He pulled away slowly, and held the clone's chin in a gentle grip. "I thought I told you to stay home."

Kon opened his mouth to snap back, but Superman pulled him into another crushing hug, pressing a kiss to the top of his head, and Kon had to spend all of his energy on breathing in such a grip.

"Robin, good work," Superman noted with a smile, and Kon watched as Tim grinned back at him, flashing a thumbs up. "Come on, both of you. Let's go home."

Chapter Text

Kon was mid-flight and just behind Superman when he noticed how the alien looked following his battle with Overmaster. His cape was tattered, housing frayed edges surrounding scorched, red fabric that caught in the wind. The blue material over his elbows and left shoulder was scuffed, stretched now with straining thread as he carried Tim in his arms and Dabney on his back. He was barefoot with only the tops of his boots remaining, wrapped around his calves. Other than mildly disheveled hair, his person appeared physically untouched. Kon wondered how he must look in comparison-suit still damaged from his fight with Knockout and hair sticking up at wild angles from the stickers and wires. His flight felt stuttered even then after the prolonged exposure to kryptonite, and he felt Kal's wary eyes on him, knowing a lightning-fast grasp would curl around his wrist if he came anywhere near falling out of the sky.

Kon noticed with a defeated sigh that he must appear so weak next to the invincible alien-that he looked a little bit more like the humans who fought alongside him rather than his Kryptonian half. Donovan was unkempt, dark circles cushioning his eyes and teeth grit with nerves that Kon heard pumping through his chest. Tim appeared exhausted with unfortunate singe marks and scrapes covering his suit, clearly struggling to keep his head from lolling down to Kal's chest for a nap. The day was early and Kon didn't really know what time Tim had been summoned from his home in the middle of the night.

The clone wanted to slip away into the background until he felt he looked more presentable, but Kal didn’t allow him out of his sight once. Even when they landed at Donovan's house to accompany him through the door and assure the premises weren't compromised, Kal hovered near. Kon was frustrated with the attention. He crossed his arms and ticked off the bad guys he had taken down in his short span of life on a list in his head-one to spite the alien and ensure to himself that he didn't need this protective watch. He didn't want it either, and his thoughts raced. Kal's persistent worry made Kon feel childish, like he required a babysitter now to make sure the clone didn't trip and fall without someone to catch him.

Though he had been held hostage by Lex. There was no denying that part.

Kon plopped down on the couch with a grouchy groan, scanning the living room with an uninterested gaze, subtly taking note of the lack of family pictures that lines his own home as well as Bruce's. Un-phased by the attitude, Dabnet approached him, standing but Kon's knees before crouching down to be eye-level.

“Kid, listen,” Donovan murmured at a volume that was only meant for him though they both knew Superman could hear them without needing to strain. “When I came to you with a warning, I meant for you to leave. I meant for you to hide somewhere secret until it was safe again. You have to know that right? I never wanted you to come back to LexCorp.”

Kon nodded, biting unhappily at the inside of this cheek. Of course he knew that, but he needed to save everyone. He needed to protect his family and stop the approaching disaster. It wasn’t lost on him that despite his impulsive decision and relative speed, he didn’t save anyone. He only dragged two more people into danger by going to LexCorp-Tim and Dabney, both of whom Luthor proved to have no qualms about hurting for the sake of keeping his experiment. His face was warm with shame and he idly wondered how far he could get if he just started flying away now. How far could he get before Superman stopped him?

Not even past the edge of the living room carpet.

“But I also want you to know that none of this is your fault. Luthor knew what I was doing the very second I left Metropolis. He was always going to come for me, and that was a risk that I took. I decided that. Not you. Do you understand me?”

He shrugged noncommittally. That was all so easy to say now, now when they were out of LexCorp and standing next to a hero. A real hero, Kon reminded himself with another wave of failure washing over him, clogging his mind and dampening his telekinesis so that he had difficulty feeling its fire in his chest. He had acted without consideration to everyone around him. He dreaded to see the rest of his family after this.

The need to help was so fervent, but he didn’t help a single person.

“Please look at me.”

Dabney’s voice was soft and succeeded in drawing Kon’s surprised attention with a slow gaze. The clone expected to see a sour disappointment that mirrored his own thoughts, but he found honest sincerity in the man’s eyes.

“You are very, very brave. And you love your family so much, so you wanted to help. Is that right?”

He nodded. 

“They are so lucky to have you.”

Kon swallowed at the lump in his throat, wondering where the uncomfortable thing came from anyway as he was fine only seconds before. He wiped away at his cheeks harshly, and Dabney politely pretended not to notice, averting his watch to the opposite wall. But the sting behind Kon's eyes remained even after the tears stopped.

“What will you do now?” he asked in a croaked voice.

“Move.” Dabney sighed, standing up straight and looking around the apartment. There was a slight longing in his gaze giving away apprehension to leaving his home. “It’s not safe here. Even if Luthor is put away now, doubtful as it may be, it won’t last. It never lasts.”

Kon’s heart stuttered and his throat dried. Leaving Luthor seemed like the natural thing to do at the time because that was his usual routine. He incapacitated the villains and left the clean-up work to authorities that he didn’t want to speak with. He didn’t consider the possibility that the authorities might not even take Luthor in for questioning or Incarceration, that they might listen to his lies and seek out the clone for arrest.

“But wherever I go, I hope you will visit.”

The rest of Dabney’s request came as a surprise, and a hesitant grin graced Kon’s mouth as he responded. “Hawaii is pretty cool.”

“Noted.”

Kon stood up too, standing next to the man that had risked his life for him. Dabney was more than just the scientist that gave him a warning-he was the first to talk to him, the first to show him humanity upon waking up. He was the first to give him hope with promises of a name and a home. He was Kon’s first family, even though it was forged through a horrible meeting. And he couldn’t deny the tug in his chest at the thought.

“You gave my son a warning despite knowing the grave risk,” Superman’s voice rang out, startling Kon with his sudden placement right behind the clone's shoulder. He extended a hand to Donovan, and the man slowly lifted his for a handshake. “Thank you. I will help you travel, and I can ensure that Luthor won’t find you.”

“You’re very optimistic. That is a very generous offer, and I could really use the help.”

Superman chuckled politely, waving the compliment away. “I need to get these boys home,” he paused to ruffle Tim’s hair, “and then I will come back here.”

Kon blinked at him with wide eyes as he watched them exchange goodbyes. Donovan opened his arms to Kon, who jumped into the hug and sighed in relief. The past hours were terrifying and the thought of what Luthor nearly did to both Kon and Dabney were etched into his memory with a painful jab. He buried his head closer to the man’s chest.

Kon followed Superman outside, waiting for the door to close before asking, “You are really going to help him?”

“Of course. That’s what we do.”

We.

“Now let’s go home,” Superman announced with a clap. “We need to get back to the farm and cleaned up-all of us.”

Kon faintly heard Tim ask that he is coming home with them, his voice laced with buzzing excitement, as the clone's own chest was filled with giddy hope. When honest with himself, he hadn't really expected Kal to simply dump him as family or a future hero in training, but to hear confirmation was still a warm light in his dark, clouded thoughts. In addition to Kon not being a complete disappointing failure to Superman, the alien was also promising to help Donovan-the man that Kon had been so afraid he wouldn't be allowed to see anymore. He worked with Luthor after all, acting as a direct tie between Kon and the most traumatic experience in his short life. Not only did Kal offer to help and protect Dabney, but he also thanked the man and shook his hand. Kon's mind was reeling.

He couldn't suppress his own thrilled grin from growing as Tim flashed him a huge smile. He really liked the sound of that plan, because even though they had technically been in the same room and even interacting over the past hour, a rescue was hardly quality time spent with his boyfriend that he craved. The world was turning to see another day, and he could finally relax.

“Batman is going to meet us in Smallville. He’s already on his way. It seems he needs to pick up his uh... jet. From my yard,” Superman chuckled light-heartedly at the explanation, and Tim sheepishly ducked his head in guilt. Kal waved Tim forward with outstretched arms. “I offered to bring you and the jet back to Gotham. But he shut that idea down immediately.”

Tim climbed up on Superman's back now, just as Dabney had been carried from LexCorp. Kon almost spoke up in offer to carry him, but when a forward step brought a renewed wave of dizziness, he knew that was a lost battle before it even began.

“I don’t think he likes when I touch his technology,” Kal admitted.

“Me either,” Tim sighed, slumped against his back.

With an order to hang on tight, Kal lifted off into the sky, and Kon followed beside him. The morning was bright and growing warmer by the minute, and he breathed in the clean air as they traveled to the farm. The stinging reminder that he had almost never seen the sun as himself struck him, and he moved closer to Superman in response. Superman noticed, but Kon was relieved that it wasn't mentioned aloud. He threw one last peek back behind his shoulder at Metropolis as they left the city limits and Bruce's voice came to mind.

Good riddance.

Their entrance through the front door was met with a chorus of shouted welcome. Kara appeared before Kon in an instant, the first face he saw in his home and met with a gust of rushing wind. She wore a brief look of terror and panic reflected on her face before tugging him close and wrapped her arms around him tightly. She had changed out of her El outfit but scuffed soot and dirt still laid in patches over his face and hair. He pulled his head back, away from his hidden spot in Kara's hair, and he glanced at the rest of his family, scattered across the room but keeping a short distance from the newcomers. His grandparents had hints of tear tracks down their cheeks, and Lois's eyes were wide and wild with frayed nerves. He hated to think what the house must have felt like before they stepped through the door just now.

Jon stood at the door frame leading to the living room, furthest away and shooting forthright glares at him, head low and brows furrowed.

“Cousin,” Kara chastised with a disappointed tisk of tongue against teeth, reclaiming his attention and letting go of him. “I heard Kal tell you to stay here while we were gone. The dog understands that order better than you do.”

“Shut up,” he bit out, rolling his eyes and dodging under the rough scrape of her knuckles threatening his scalp. He had missed his cousin and the urge to hug her once again was colossal.

“You can’t sneak away like that. You scared us.”

He was wracked with guilt, and his eyes flickered over to see Jon peel away from the frame and walk out of the room, disappearing behind the wall and stomping upstairs. He hadn't thought about this part when he rushed off to Metropolis the evening before. He hadn't really considered what it would feel for everyone else to turn from the horrible news of catastrophe and find Kon was missing and Kal was unavailable to catch him.

“You need to let us know before you leave this house,” Lois interrupted, speaking firmly. “I know you had a sudden burst of heroism, but that doesn’t excuse not telling someone first.”

He nodded sheepishly. It had been a poor decision on their end, but Kon still felt it had been necessary for him to at least try to stop Luthor.

“Do you think we would have let Jon do that?”

Lois’s question stunned him into a brief silence, his mouth was open but the words had vanished from his tongue. The mere idea was ridiculous for a child to be allowed to fly away and fight someone as evil as Lex Luthor in the middle of the night with no one else present. The thought of Jon slipping out of the house without telling his parents first would have brought a chuckle to his breath had he not been on the receiving end of a very firm look in that moment. He needed to explain that it was different when he did it.

“No, of course not.”

Because he wasn't like Jon-

“You are our kid too. The same rules apply to you, and what you did scared us.”

Kon swallowed heavy, giving his best effort to ignore the sting in the back of his eyes.The proclamation that he was just as Jon was in his parents' eyes still felt warming and unreal, even when faced with the evidence. He felt incredibly vulnerable, mere seconds away from unleashed tears, and Martha stepped forward next. She wrapped her arms around his chest and pulled him close for a hug, and he felt her hitched breath across his hair.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, tongue heavy and lips wet with the oncoming cry. Martha held him closer.

A half hour after their return, Kon found himself at the kitchen table sitting next to Tim. His grandparents and Lois were fussing over the pair equally, making them breakfast that both had politely refused and urging glasses of water and orange juice down their throats. Kara stood across from them, asking questions about the battle with Lex and filling them in on the details of her own battle. Kal was perched by the fridge, standing right in the middle of the bustling chaos and listening carefully.

"That's a huge job to try alone," Lois noted, ticking an eyebrow at Kon. "Do you really think we would have expected you to take that man on by yourself?"

"I'm sorry," he relented honestly. "It all happened so fast. I thought I could handle-thought I should handle it. But all I succeeded in doing was getting caught."

And putting two very important people in danger, his mind presented helpfully. One of those being the person that was most special to him. He glanced over at Tim and found him looking back, the truth in his eyes still hidden behind the domino mask he had yet to take off. He was sure Tim wanted to change into something cleaner-it's nearly all Kon was thinking of himself.

"There’s nothing wrong with needing help, son," Kal spoke. "No one will think you are weak. I needed help too, with the alien we fought. I couldn’t have beaten him alone, but I asked for assistance and did my part. Your part is just as important, even if you also need help."

"I’m not embarrassed to need help,” Kon insisted. “I was going to call for you as soon as I woke up, but... but-"

His voice fell away, and he felt his expression contort to that of terror and sorrow at the memory of waking up to see Donovan tied up at Luthor's mercy. The threat of the man's death will always stay with Kon, piercing his thoughts and clouding his dreams. Whatever his family saw in his eyes kept the following questions at bay, and Kal moved in an instant to pull the clone into a warm hug. His lips were pressed to the side of Kon's head and a tear finally fell, rolling down his cheek and leaving behind a cooled trail.

"I am so sorry you had to suffer through all of this. But you are safe now, do you hear me? And so are Tim and the scientist. All three of you are safe and you made it out of there."

He nodded against Kal's chest, feeling the rough material against his cheeks. Tim's hand rested on his shoulder, giving a comforting squeeze that ensured Kal's words. They were safe and he was home.

After a vast breakfast that took everything to swallow down past the lump in his throat, the pair retreated upstairs to clean up. Granted a sink, Tim peeled away his domino mask and rubbed a wet wash cloth across his face, scrubbing impatiently at the soot and solvent around his eyes. Tim removed the cloth and smiled brightly at Kon through the mirror, face bare and heavy eyelids on display. Kon felt weak.

Back in his room, Kon rustled through the dresser drawers until he found a pair of sweats and a T-shirt, both of which he tossed to Tim. It wasn't until he changed his own clothes and turned back to find Tim that he realized which shirt he had tossed, watching in stupor as Tim tugged on the shirt gifted to him by Jon for Christmas, adorning the famous El sign in red over soft black material. Kon was enamored, unable to help himself from stepping forward and resting a hand on Tim's shoulder, rolling the neckline material between his fingers. Tim's eyes brightened and he leaned up on his toes to quickly brush his lips against Kon's.

"That's hot," Kon remarked, nodding toward Tim's chest, and earning himself an eye roll.

"Shut up." Tim leaned forward and kissed him again.

With wobbly knees and suddenly lightheaded, Kon shuffled to the wall and slid down until he was sitting with his legs outstretched in front of him. Tim mirrored his movements, sitting beside him close enough that their shoulders grazed one another.

“How long were you at LexCorp before you came down through the vent?” Kon asked softly.

Tim stuck out his lower lip in thought, and Kon watched. “I guess about an hour and a half. I hacked into his security system, which took a little longer than I had anticipated. Then I needed him to leave the room.”

“I heard you above me.”

“I’m surprised," Tim snickered. "Lex is a talker.”

Despite himself, the clone managed an amused grin. He couldn’t argue that point-Lex was a talker. And the man's words would haunt Kon through the upcoming months, and possibly years, he knew. The words spoken to him before he almost lost his life. He wondered if he would ever be rid of them.

“I can’t wait to tell Bruce that I took down Lex in his war suit.” Tim was practically vibrating with excitement. “That was so cool.”

Kon tried to keep his smile, but something uncomfortable tugged at his belly.

“That was dangerous,” he noted.

“Very.”

Kon interlocked his fingers with Tim's before them, and pulled him even closer. He leaned in silently, holding his breath as he gazed into Tim’s eyes. The gaze that reflected back to him stuttered his heart in his chest. He moved, slowly and watching as Tim mirrored him, eyelashes fluttering closed in anticipation. Kon pressed his lips to Tim’s, capturing his bottom lip between the clone’s own.

“Thank you,” he spoke against Tim’s lips as he pulled back just enough to speak, relishing in the tickle of Tim’s breath against his teeth. “Thank you.”

Tim swallowed, an action Kon felt against him with the slight head raise and audible hitch in breath.

“You don’t have to thank me, really, I-"

Kon cut him off with another brief kiss, pulling away just to pull Tim’s hand forward and brush his lips across the still-gloved knuckles. Tim was stammering then, but Kon cupped Tim’s cheek in his hand, trying to keep his focus clear even as Tim tilted his head to lean into his palm. And he said again, “Thank you.”

The reality of just how close he was to being gone was striking his chest with vengeance. He still wanted to live. He wanted to explore more of the world and visit Hawaii again. He wanted to spend time with his family and complain about school at the dinner table. He wanted to fly.

He wanted to see Tim's smiling face.

He had said in his interview with Lois that Robin was his favorite hero-something of a truth and a laugh all rolled into one admittedly honest answer. Tim had saved his life, and by default Donovan's as well. His answer couldn't have been more true.

An aggressive wave of exhaustion seemed to flood the room, and Kon leaned back again, resting his crown against the wall and finally allowing his eyes to slip closed. He felt Tim’s chilled fingers on his scalp, free from the gloves now that were discarded by their feet, and a gentle pressure led his head down until he laid at an angle against Tim’s shoulder. A happy sigh rose from his chest, bringing with it relief from the weight built in him by the recent danger.

Kon snaked his arms around Tim’s waist and Tim ran his fingers through Kon's hair, nails comfortably scraping along his scalp. They stayed like that, intertwined and quiet until a knock came, Kon only seconds away from dozing off.  The door opened with an obnoxious creak, and Kon blinked heavily up at Kal, who stood in the frame. He looked uncomfortable.

“Conner, someone is here to talk to you.”

Kon frowned, listening. In his blinding comfort, he didn’t notice when someone else entered the house.

“You can come down too, but you might want to put that mask back on,” Kal suggested to Tim with a wink. "We have a visitor."

Kon apprehensively stepped into the kitchen. He was worried to meet anyone Kal seemed apprehensive to seeing. A man stood in the kitchen, next to Lois who was leaning against the kitchen counter and crossing her arms with a frown. She didn't seem worried, and Kon tried to relax at that. The man had grey, short hair and he wore a uniform Kon didn't recognize, but he thought military. There were similarities of color and shape between their eyes, though where he found warmth and trust in Lois's, he saw intensity embedded in the other's.

Tim was leaning beside him, peering with curiosity at their guest from behind Superman, fearless and with shackles raised nonetheless.

“This isn’t exactly the way I wanted to discover another grandson,” the man spoke with blaring warning, leveling Kal with a complicated gaze before motioning them over. Kon blinked in surprise, remembering then that Lois had a parent Kon had yet to meet. They approached the table but didn't sit down yet. “Boys, I am General Lane. But you,” he leveled a pointer finger at Kon, “you can call me grandpa just like your brother does.”

Kal still appeared uneasy, watching their interaction closely with distrusting eyes.

“Come sit,” Lois encouraged gently, smiling with a nod that relieved some of the tension that had built up again in Kon’s chest. They took their seats across from General Lane and Lois, sitting silently and watching as Kal stood at the corner of the table between them.

“Why don’t you both start by telling me everything that happened last night and this morning?”

Kon paused, mouth dry and brows furrowed as he was suddenly unsure where to start. He didn’t even know where the beginning of the story was. The man was asking him for everything, but Kon didn’t know if that meant he wanted to know about Luther’s deal or just the events following his arrival to LexCorp. He fretted at the possibility that General Lane was asking for the story from the moment he woke up in the lab so many months ago.

In his extended silence, he found Tim watching him from the corner of his eyes. When it was clear that he wasn't ready to speak yet, Tim dove into his own story, relaying it with the practiced precision of someone with experience reporting events to Batman. Tim noticeably left Batman out of the entire story, despite the man obviously playing some large role in the European fight. Despite the upsetting contents of the story, beginning where he received a phone call from Jon and ending just this morning, his voice was soothing to Kon. He allowed himself to relax as he listened, falling into a subtle meditation that was only broken when it was his turn to speak. He started with Donovan showing up at the Smallville farm.

Telling the story was easier than he expected, with Tim by his side and parents in his sight. Lex didn't seem so daunting anymore.

“So what happens now?” Kon asked at the end with hope he was unable to contain. The idea that he would never hear from the man again sounded too good to be true, but he sure wouldn’t complain about that. And now that the military had the story, something should be done. “With Lex, I mean.”

“Nothing,” Tim hissed softly, crossing his arms over his chest and shaking his head. He was covered with his mask, but Kon knew Tim was rolling his eyes. The frustration was swarming from multiple failed battles against the man, ignited with fury after hearing Kon's retelling. "Nothing ever happens, no matter how many laws he breaks and-"

General Lane held up a halting hand. “No, hold it. I know you are both frustrated. I will talk to the DOD and share your reports. You boys did good work, and I have a lot to go on here. They will have a difficult time arguing against Superman here too, and he will be with me when I present your evidence.” The man paused to sigh sadly to himself, seemingly lost in thought before muttering. “Your pessimistic friend may be right, but we are going to try. He’s never been held responsible for stuff like this before. But I will do my damnest to get and keep him behind bars.”

Kon and Tim looked at one another, and they shrugged simultaneously.

The man suddenly smirked at Kon, a startling change in conversation. “I’ve seen you in the news, kid. You can kick some serious ass, you know that?”

“Dad-” Lois groaned, shaking her head at him.

“What?” General Lane demanded. “He’s nearly a man. It’s okay if I say 'ass.' Jonny isn’t here to hear me.” He turned and threw a wink to Kon.

Kon couldn’t help but laugh back in amusement, muffled behind a hand when Lois caught his eye. He didn't understand why his parents were wary for him to meet this man, but he was already enjoying his company.

“Why don’t we go out back and you can show me just how strong you are? I have a baseball in the trunk, and I have a feeling you don’t need a glove to catch.”

Kon was already standing up and nodding vigorously, but he froze when Kal interrupted, straightening and moving to stand firmly behind the clone.

“No, not today. This one’s going home soon,” Kal paused to place a hand on Tim’s head. “And this one has a lot of rest to catch up on. We've had a rough weekend, and there’s school tomorrow.”

Kon scowled. “They canceled school in Gotham.” Tim nodded in confirmation.

“We aren’t in Gotham. Your principal sent out an email expecting to see all of his students there bright and early Monday morning, worldwide catastrophe or not.” His cheeky grin didn’t satisfy Kon, and the clone shot a hopeful look at General Lane.

But the boss spoke.

“Maybe next time, Dad.”

Moments after General Lane left, Bruce arrived with Dick. Kal met them both outside, explaining that no one else was home, and they came inside without covering their faces. They both looked far worse than either Kryptonian after the same battle, but Tim jumped up with excitement at their arrival anyway, un-phased by the mighty shiners and bruised jaws.Bruce made one of the invisible smiles at Tim, one that Kon had remembered seeing before. Dick had no reservations and grinned widely before yanking Tim toward him and grabbing his chin.

"Now if I had stolen the bat-jet back in my days as Robin," he started, and Kon was immediately reminded of how Kara had teased him on his arrival, "I wouldn't see another night of patrol for six months. I wonder what he will take from you. Probably just half a week, huh?"

Tim batted the hands away and slapped at his arms, but after Kon had seen him fight Lex Luthor, he knew these efforts were just for show. "That's because I am a better Robin," He snickered back. "Why are you even here?"

"Someone had to fly the second jet back to Gotham. And after your little stunt, you'd have-ta be crazy to think he'd allow you to do it." Dick ruffled Tim's hair and gently shoved him away.

The bats' visit was shorter in duration than General Lane's, because when Bruce appeared to be drifting off at the table while Tim recounted his great battle with the war suit, Lois suggested they get home because it got any latter. Reluctant and lacking the privacy he wanted for a kiss, Kon simply hugged Tim and waved goodbye to their visitors.

On his way out, Bruce placed a heavy hand on Kon's head and mumbled in a soft voice, "Good job." Kon's face was warm for the next several minutes.

Free from distractions, Kon sat at the table again, faced only with his parents. Kara and Jon had disappeared and his grandparents were outside. The house was theirs alone to converse.

“I know I’ve been busy lately,” Kal spoke first, in a quiet voice filled with shame. “And finding a way to balance work and family is my responsibility. It was never something that was meant to affect you, or Jon. None of you, in fact. But definitely not you so soon into us meeting one another. And I’m sorry for that.”

Kon understood already how that drive for helping others has a tendency to eat away at someone until they accomplished their goal. The older man that collapsed in the apartment building, leaving the child alone and terrified, was only one example of the problems he had faced. He was glad to help, and seeing the child's relief at someone showing up created a spark of joy that he craved again. His hearing isn't nearly as strong as Kal's, and he couldn't fathom the responsibility of hearing everything and still trying to create a family at home. He didn't think the alien needed to apologize for helping people, but he knew that if he said that, Kal would simply say it again So Kon decided to apologize too.

“I made the decision to... to agree with Lex’s terms. Without your permission and without even really talking to you about it first.”

“This was not something you had to do alone,” Lois insisted.

“I know that now. I’m really sorry. I didn’t want to give up seeing Donovan, so I decided to hide that from you.”

“I know that man is important to you, and I never would have required that from you.”

“No, I know that, of course. But...” Kon sighed, shifting uncomfortably and picking at his nails. He was at a loss for words. Hearing it now was so obvious. He complained about his parents sending him to school even though he hasn't learned anything new yet, but they still weren't unfair parents. They care for him and loved him, and they would have listened to his worries without even needing to be asked. The fear of not knowing for sure what outcome would have come from his honesty had kept him from telling Kal, and that decision he had suffered through. “I’m really sorry. I messed up.”

"You made a mistake. We both did. I should have kept my promise and talked with you about this as soon as the holidays ended. I am really sorry too.”

"It's okay. I forgive you."

"Even though this wasn't the best decision on either of our parts, I am really proud that you are talking to me about it know. I know this is hard." Kal leaned closer and ruffled Kon's hair. He wore a bright, warm smile that was reflected tenfold in his eyes. "I’m so proud of you, Kon-El. You’ve grown so much already in the few months you’ve been here."

Kon grinned. “Yeah, and I've only put two holes in the barn during my time here. That is sort of a win.”

“Two?” Kal and Lois asked simultaneously, bewildered and raising their eyebrows to one another in hopes for an answer.

“Just kidding,” Kon quickly amended with a lie, cheeks colored and chuckling with what he hoped sounded good-heartedness rather than obvious guilt. He forgot that throwing the baseball through the barn so early into his stay was his and Jonathan’s secret.

Kal relaxed and responded sneakily, “Your coping skills are so much better now too-not showering so often.”

“That’s ‘cause your towels all suck.”

Kal scrunched his nose and reached across the table to pinch at Kon’s cheek. He slapped at the alien’s hand but didn’t try to suppress a giggle, seeing the similarity with the interaction he had seen between Dick and Tim. His efforts were also just for show.

“We still need to talk about you skipping school though," Kal noted, and Kon winced, quickly sobering. "We aren’t going to tell the school about you ditching classes. Save you the pain of detention-no matter how warranted it might be. You knew you shouldn’t have done that.”

He nodded reluctantly. “That was just so I could go see Donovan without you to...” he felt his shame grow as his cheeks darkened in color and he ducked his head to finish, “knowing.”

“Right. You are absolutely grounded for that. For two weeks.”

Kon straightened with an offended scoff. “But I already did all of the homework and made up the quizzes I missed. It is basically like I was there the whole time.”

“Then you’ll probably be very bored sitting here at the house without your phone or TV.”

Kon scowled, grumbling under his breath about how, “This entire thing sucks.”

“And,” Kal added as though he had just thought of it. “And you have to do your homework at the table after school with Jon.”

Kon’s lips parted in confusion. “Uhm, okay?”

He thought of Tim being grounded, something that terrified him at first after he listened to his father yelling on the phone. But after checking on the situation himself, Tim was safe the entire time. He knew being grounded was nothing to be scared of, and if he still got to be with his family during that time, he believed he would find a way to survive.

“We need to talk about Knockout,” Lois announced.

Kon was surprise. So much had happened since seeing Knockout the previous morning, and the fact that he fought her just over twenty-four hours prior came as a huge revelation. He had nearly forgotten about her and the museum entirely since his kidnapping.

“Right. I offered to get that stone back for Lex again, the one that she stole from the museum, but he tried to do mind control again so that favor is off the table. She can keep the stupid rock if she wants it.”

Lois waited with a look of genuine patience, quiet as Kon spoke and eyes brimmed with kindness. “Conner, I am talking about Knockout kissing you. How are you feeling?”

He blinked once at the sudden change of direction. He really believed they were going to discuss the repercussions of the woman succeeding. But he recovered and shrugged. “It hurt, but I already told you that. I'm feeling fine.”

“We are both here for you, Clark and I, and you can ask us questions at any time. We care about you and you are safe to tell us anything you may be feeling or thinking, especially if it is confusing to you or uncomfortable. We are here to listen.”

Kon clasped his hands under the table and shifted in his seat. “That’s cool and all, but I can’t really be mad about it. Like I said, it’s fine.”

“What do you mean by that?” Kal interjected, catching Kon’s fleeting gaze with a sympathetic look of concern. He didn't like this spotlight of attention

“I didn’t say no-I mean, I couldn’t really. I didn’t have the time or the air.”

“Do you know that consent is required for any act like that?"

“Of course I know that.”

And he did know it. He woke up with someone else’s memories but he had plenty of standard morals. Though his heart felt like it would burst right out of his chest from anxious anticipation, the night of his first kiss with Tim was one of the most comfortable encounters he had had thus far. Tim had asked if Kon wanted to kiss with the mistletoe before making the move himself. Kon wanted to-he really wanted to-so he said yes. It didn't work like that at all with Knockout.

“You are allowed to be angry and upset about what happened. It was inappropriate and disrespectful to you. It is not excusable.”

Kon sunk down in his seat and placed his chin on the table, looking forward to the end of this conversation. His skin itched and his stomach felt tight at the reminder of it and the attention his parents brought to it. He was perfectly happy living with just the distraction of Lex’s kidnapping and forgetting about this situation entirely.

With just a shred of introspection, he also recognized he appreciated hearing what they said.

“And we will always be here for you.”

Kon’s wanted to hug her. From the moment they met, Lois had been kind and welcoming to the clone, even when he felt he didn't deserve it due to his creator or the lying. The conversation already left him feeling incredibly vulnerable, and he was uncomfortable with the seriousness of the conversation. A beat of silence pass by the trio until Lois asked if she could hug Kon, and the relief he felt was palpable. He nodded quickly and jumped out of his seat, moving forward as soon as she opened her arms. He hadn't felt optimistic in a while, not with his fear for Lex always lurking in the background of his mind. But he felt at peace in that moment.

“Is there anything else you want to talk about?” Kal asked softly when Kon retook his seat.

He swallowed and nodded firmly. He already felt exposed with his emotions laid out for the room, and he had one other interesting piece of information to share with his family. Now seemed like the perfect time, while they were both in such a loving mood. “Yes. I’m dating Tim.”

The room was quiet for a time that felt like hours passing in Kon’s head, and he looked back with anticipation. Lois appeared pleased and on the very verge of congratulating him, but the first sound made was accompanied by Kal's stunned blinking. “What?”

Lois snapped her head toward him so fast, Kon was surprised he didn’t hear her neck crack at the movement.

“I’m dating Tim.”

“Tim? Timothy that was here just now?”

“Yes," he crossed his arms over his chest, not defensive but confused. "Literally the only Tim I know."

“Tim, Robin?”

“Yes, Kal.”

“You’re dating? The two of you-are you sure you two are dating?”

“Clark?” Lois asked in demand of an explanation.

“Yes, I’m sure,” Kon bit out slowly. He wondered idly if he was speaking a foreign language that Kal didn't know; he could practically see the wheels churning in the alien's mind, trying and failing to make sense of the situation. “Don’t you know what dating is? You’re married.” He emphasized his point by gesturing toward Lois.

“But he... He lives so far away. Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Yeah. I can be there in like three seconds. You know, if you say I can,” he added in a muffled voice when Kal’s eyebrow lifted.

“Clark, what is this?”

“I’m just surprised,” he sputtered. “I mean, I heard you two kissing after Thanksgiving, but I didn’t know you were dating.”

The room erupted in sound.

“You were listening to us?” Kon yelled out, horrified, hand thrown over his mouth in shock as a furious blush spread across his face. He was wishing more than anything in that moment that he could rewind time, only to a few moment before he told them about dating Tim. He could lie and shrug and say nothing else was needing to be discussed. He had no other important news. It was all gravy-

He had been so nervous that night, pacing around with clawing thoughts. And now he finds out that Superman heard the entire thing. He wanted to evaporate into thin air.

“You heard that and assumed they were what-friends?” Lois asked, bewildered.

“Yes. I thought you were just, I don’t know! Friends? I wasn’t listening on purpose though, Conner, I promise. I heard you walking around the house after you two were supposed to be going to sleep, and I knew your heartbeat sounded pretty erratic. And I was worried something bad had happened, so I was just making sure you were fine.”

Kon hid his face in his hands, and mumbled to himself with shallow breaths, “What the hell is happening?”

“Oh my god, Clark?” Lois was also baffled.

“Lois, he really didn’t sound fine. He sounded anxious-Conner, you sounded scared. You both did. Oh my god.” He breathed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Bruce is going to kill me.”

“Bruce isn’t going to know unless they agree to tell him,” Lois reminded him, nodding at Kon in camaraderie. "Right?"

“Bruce doesn’t have anything to do with this,” Kon demanded.

"Bruce does have something to do with Tim." Clark ran a hand across his face. "He always knows. Everything. And Bruce is practically the kid’s father."

Kon didn't have an argument for that. But he did want to get out of the room before their conversation somehow worsened. "I'm-uh. I'm going to go lay down for a bit."

He trudged up the stairs without waiting for an answer, listening to Lois and Kal's growing voices bleed out through the kitchen.

"Clark, what is that look on your face? I haven't seen you this surprised since I told you about Jonathan-"

Any other moment, Kon would have chuckled at that. But he was exhausted. At the top of the stairs, he saw the small outline of someone sitting next to his closed door, hunched over and practically shaking. His brother had been scowling at him since his return, purposefully quiet and angry-completely opposite of his usual chirp. Kon noticed he hadn't even spoken to him directly yet.

“Hey little man,” he greeted easily in a whisper, met only in return with a large pout. “You’re mad at me too, huh?”

He received a stiff nod in return.

“Why?”

He didn’t think Tim refusing to bring Jon was that big of a deal-he could hardly expect to be brought along while they were battling Lex Luthor. He was just a kid after all, and he was so understanding every other time someone left the house for a fight to which he couldn't come along. The hallway was quiet. Kon heard the muffled voices from the floor below them and the huffed breath coming from Jon's exhales. He knew Jon wanted to talk about it, he just needed the extra push that some children required to talk about their feelings.

"Fine, if you don't wanna talk to me, then I'll just-"

“You left me.”

Kon blinked.

“Oh. You weren’t in danger though. You had Lois here, and Ma and Pa. I needed to go-“

Jon snapped his head up. “I waited for you all night and you didn’t come back. You are a mean big brother.”

Kon lowered his head, ashamed. He hadn’t been called that before. Jon has christened him fun, silly, and even a riot after one very special occasion, but he had yet to wear the very heavy crown of mean.