Notes: Superboy in the beginning of the series, immediately lashes out, isolates and runs away from a problem. He did it during schooled, again in Terrors, and again with the new gods. The boy has terrible coping mechanisms.

All We Know of Love

Chapter two: Runaway

Superboy bounces from one Zeta tube location to another aimlessly for hours before he finds himself in one of the League's many safe houses, a nondescript warehouse littered with shelves of supplies for a member who needs it in the middle of Los Angeles, dropping his cell phone several ports away. Taking a seat in a barren cot tucked away in a corner of the building. Superboy takes a moment to get his bearings as the argument replayed in his head.

There was no place for him on the team anymore. Supergirl had appeared and stolen everything from him. Just the brief glance he saw was enough to confirm her perfection, even the Team knew how much better she was.

He's redundant—obsolete really, Superman knew it, the Team knew it, the League knew it and soon would the world. He knows because they're heroes they would keep smiling and say he belongs but eventually their pity would turn to exhaustion. Even a brief glance was enough to show she was sunlight while he was weak moonbeams merely reflecting the greatness of his originator. Superman could not even look at him, much less tolerate being In the same room as him, why would he tolerate his perfect Supergirl being in the presence of his clone?

No matter what anyone said, The Team was made for the League, for its partners. Superboy thought briefly he would be able to join that group. That one day he could call himself Superman's partner as well. But everyone knew it was a pipe dream. He was the last to catch on.

Superboy would not see himself die of a thousand cuts, of catching Superman parade the partner he wants in front of him. Seeing the team slowly tire of mollifying him and his temper and finally ask him to leave to be with the perfect girl from beyond the stars, their pity and feelings of obligation of finding him finally running out.

The voice in his head that sounds suspiciously like Desmond whispers more poison in his ears. Do you think they'll leave a boy with your abilities alone? They'll probably put you back in a pod and be done with you. If you're lucky of course. They could just quietly get rid of you. Is it really against the justice league's code when you're not real? It's just...decommissioning.

Superboy stifles a yell and a urge to smash something. The last thing he needs is catch attention because he had lost his temper yet again.

He'll cut tether now and be done with it. Even though his heart feels like it's been pierced with kryptonite. It's better this than whatever path he'll be on by staying.

Superboy gets off from his cot, and starts examining the warehouse for supplies for his escape. He skims the racks and pulls out a duffle resting on one of the shelves. his weaker super hearing enough to hear the nearly silent whirring of any bug implanted within the fibers. He crawls through the shelves of the warehouse, looking for anything of use to take with him.

The clothes lining the shelves are nearly all too large for him, but he'll have to make due. His wardrobe nearly all Superman shirts that he can wear no longer. He slips on a large black hoodie and rolls up the sleeves. Slipping several more into the duffel bag .

He finds the cash next and Superboy feels conflicted, there's several thousands in front of him. He could take it all, it'd keep him comfortable for weeks but he wasn't a bad guy. He takes under a thousand from the pile—just enough to be considered misdemeanor and not a felony.

He grabs some water bottles, some rations and scribbles a quick note before he leaves the building and the league forever.

Goodbye.

He wars between speeding out of town or traveling through blending in with normal people. The former would let preserve the small amount of money he has, but he decides against it. It would be laughably easy for the Justice league to track, a bizarre track of displaced air through the city. He buys a cheap bus ticket out of LA to Gateway City. It's the former city of Wonder Woman before her move to Washington a few years back. A city in slow decline, it seems to be the perfect place for a super clone to disappear.

Blending in with the morning rush, no one gives him a second glance as he takes a seat on the back of a bus that's seen better days. And after a long day of tears and rage, he closes his eyes and rests.

It's past six in the evening, when Dinah finds the remains of his cellphone cracked and half buried in a beach. Most likely thrown by a frustrated Kryptonian as hard as he could, miles away from the league safe house. Not broken and filled with messages of the team trying to reach him.

But no sign of Superboy.

The boy was clever, even Batman didn't know that so many zeta tubes in such close succession would make his path nearly impossible to track by the league. Troubling information Cadmus must have given him for sure. A fact they would most certainly correct in the future. He had hit close to hundred league locations within a few short hours before he had exited the system. And they were all viable last exits.

She had spent most of her day for coordinating with Batman, Red Tornado and whoever was available trying to narrow his trajectory down to no avail.

She curses herself for not being straightforward. She had wanted to break the news gently. She knew the boy was fragile, that the news of Supergirl would devastate him. Superman practically hung the moon for him, and this would destroy his world. She had thought she would have time to ease him into it. Reassure him of his place with them. That there was enough for two supers.

But from the sounds of the argument he had with the kids all she taught him was that they didn't trust him.

Superboy didn't have any form of identification, no money, he didn't even have a name for God's sake. How was he supposed to make it in the world without them? His social skills were incredibly underdeveloped. Did Cadmus teach him how to survive on his own? The Black Canary sincerely doubted so.

Dinah cycles through every possible outcome of what the boy might do alone in the world, each grimmer than the last. Missing children's cases were most vital in the first forty-eight hours. And the clock was counting against them.

"Any clue?"

She turned to see Red Arrow skimming the beach, listlessly. He had offered to help her search for the super clone for the sake of her and his friends. But it was obvious to anyone with eyes, that the archer was exhausted.

"He got rid of his cellphone."

The Archer took a deep sigh.

"Listen, I didn't want to say this in front of the Kaldur and the others. But are you sure he didn't go back to the creeps who made him? I know he's their friend and all. But we can't forget he's still a weapon someone made to kill Superman," Roy says rubbing his temple. "Maybe he got tired of playing house with the team..."

Dinah shook her head. Superboy was a lot of things. But he was painfully straightforward to the point of awkward. He wasn't capable of such a deception. She knew that in her bones.

"Don't ever call him a weapon again," she orders. "Superboy, no matter his origins is just a boy. Just like you and the others. He's hurt and confused and we need to find him."

Red Arrow raised his hands up in surrender. "Whatever. I don't trust the kid. But I'll trust you."

After arriving in Gateway, Superboy looks for the seediest motel he can find. They don't ask for identification so at least for a brief moment, he has a roof over his head. The floor is worn, the bathroom filthy and the sheets itchy. But it was more than enough for the clone for the time being. There's a small, retro television in front of the bed and a even older computer tucked away in a corner.

He turns on the television to distract himself. Something he realizes is a bad idea immediately after nearly every channel starts talking about the supergirl.

"Supergirl, another kryptonian?"

"I always thought the big man should have a side kick."

"Glad to see a woman wearing the S."

"I can't believe my fellow reporters are gushing over this. It's truly tragic to see just how much Superman brainwashed this population. He came to us with his tragic, last survivor of his home world story. And we all fell for it. And now he has another girl waiting in the wings? How many more will have to appear before we realize he pulled the wool over our eyes."

Superboy buries himself and his guilt under a well worn comforter. He closes his eyes tightly and tries desperately to sleep and avoid thinking about tomorrow. The sounds of the cruel pundit screaming about the league is a welcome break from the nonstop praise of the girl he can't compete with.

He was free from Cadmus, he was free to make his own choices. And the concept was now utterly terrifying. The sudden, complete freedom as choking as any noose. Superboy had been conditioned to have overarching goals. The team had been a quick and easy replacement for the mission oriented clone after forsaking the objectives of his birth. He could turn all his determination and conviction towards helping people. But now he was on his own, the world was a blank canvas. And he felt utterly, utterly lost. What was the point of him now?

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

The steady rhythm of his window being tapped forces his eyes to snap open. A bird, the wrong room? Did the front desk want something? He drags himself off the bed to regain his silence and as he heads to the door, the sharp crack of glass breaking grabs his attention. His supervision nearly burns him from how fast it activates, infrared searching for any sign of life. The worst case scenario was that he had already been found. He wanted to leave with what little dignity he has, not have to beg pitifully to leave by a leaguer.

To his surprise there is no league member who decided to war with glass. Instead a small brightly purple light floats gently towards him through the shattered window. Inside the violet sphere, a matching colored ring that reminded him of the Green Lantern's in the center of it. When the ring is mere inches away, it suddenly shoots out with a speed that catches even his reflexes by surprise and wraps around his finger. He tries several times to experimentally pull the ring off his finger, but the item doesn't budge despite his strength.

A alien, female voice booms in his head.

"Superboy of Earth, you have a great hole in your heart. We have come to make you whole again, to make you one of our own. Welcome to the Star Sapphires."

End

I plan longer chapters in the future.