Conner sat on the corner of his bed in his mostly empty room at the cave, thinking. Was it something he had done? Or just simply that he existed?
Superman obviously had an aversion to him- he avoided the boy at almost all costs.
"Why?" he muttered. He didn't need a father, so to speak, but training would be helpful. Superman was the only one with the same abilities; the only one who really understood. And yet, instead of offering to help, he shunned Conner.
Though the clone would never admit it, it hurt that Superman refused to accept him. He didn't know what to do- every time he tried to approach or talk to the Kryptonian, he'd find some excuse to vanish.
Maybe he doesn't know what to do, either, he thought. That could sort of make sense.
Maybe… Maybe he was just as confused as Conner. He'd never had a son before- it had been completely thrust upon him.
Still, he thought, an edge of bitterness in the words, that doesn't excuse him for completely ignoring me!
But what if it did? Would you even wanthim as a father?
He thought about it. Superman had sort of started to accept him, letting him take on the name 'Kent' and a few other things.
Maybe it was just hard. Conner wasn't his son, after all. He was a clone. That would probably be a lot to take in- the new team of protégés returns from an unauthorized mission with a half-age clone of him?
Yeah, he thought, maybe a bit overwhelming.
He found himself thinking about the father/son relationship between Batman and Robin. Though a lot of it was criticism, it was mostly constructive, and there was praise mingled between. And it wasn't like Batman didn't care, because no matter how much he tried to deny it, he cared. It showed.
Maybe he could be satisfied with something like that. Maybe he could be satisfied with anything at all. Constructive criticism, the occasional praise.
Or maybe he couldn't.
Either way, he figured he'd have to go on not knowing, for now, at least.