Conner didn't get around to smoking that cigarette. At some point he passed out and had dreams about pretty boys in cop uniforms. Except he was the cop. And it wasn't Grayson but Tim batting his eyes up at him and asking if he wanted to go to the hospital. And Conner was placed under arrest for the murder of a man in a park. And then the scene was Hawaii and Tim was talking to a shark.

He tried not to read to much into it as he showered and got ready for the day.

Clark did an admirable job of trying not to hover. He looked exhausted. With bags under his eyes and an apologetic smile he handed Conner a thermos of soup, ruining any goodwill he might have earned.

"Ma showed me how to make it," he said, "it's meant for colds, but I figured a mild concussion is good enough reason to make it."

Conner would have said no, but he was already running late, and the busses were not keen on waiting.

"One more thing," Clark said, just as he stepped out the door, "I talked to Lex."

"You told Lex?" He wondered if Officer Grayson would really hold it against him if Clark went missing.

"He was going to find out eventually. Better it was from me. You may have to talk to him."

Conner decided to stop talking to Clark for the rest of the day.

The call didn't come for several hours. Instead he got to go to school, dread weighing in his stomach, and pretended to find his classmates distracting while his brain prepared the five page essay it would take to convince Lex to back off. He failed another quiz, and even Tim, who still sat as far away from him as possible in Chemistry, gave him a concerned look.

"Conner?" Tim asked when Conner missed the beaker for the lab entirely. But that was the only thing he said, and Conner simply handed him the correct beaker and turned away. He was convinced he hadn't hallucinated the gunshot, and he refused to talk to Tim until he had his answers. That and, after weeks of silent glares, it felt good to be on the other side of things.

Tim huffed, seeming genuinely annoyed, and finished both his and Conner's lab in record time.

As the bell rang freeing him from his metaphorical chain to Tim, he bolted out the door.

The call came exactly as the final bell rang. Conner offered his friends no explanation (his patience wearing short, he didn't want to snap at them) and hurried off school grounds. Despite his recent misadventure, and the increasing cold, he intended to walk home.

"Conner," Lex's voice rolled like honey across Conners ears. Even over the phone he worked his charm like Conner didn't already know the kind of man he really was. "Mr. Kent called. I heard about your rather eventful week. I don't suppose your exposure to Gotham's staggering crime rate and Clark's ineptitude have changed your mind about my offer to come live in Metropolis?"

Conner seethed despite himself as he retraced his steps from just days before, and turned down some residential streets. His mind flashed to Clark handing him a dumb, bulky thermos with a nervous smile. He thought of Clark bothering to waste his time to make soup in the first place.

"Clark isn't inept," he said, "And no."

Luthor chuckled. "Conner, my dear boy, you more than anyone should know I hold Mr. Kent in the highest regard. But that doesn't make him a good parental figure for you. He's thirty five and living in an place so dangerous you were mugged. If you were with me you'd have your pick of armed security to accompany you everywhere."

The very thought made Conner's skin crawl. "Lex, I'm fine. Clark's fine. We aren't having this conversation."

Conner finally found what he thought was the right place and turned down the alleyway.

"I'm only trying to do what's best for you. I want you home."

The alley was made up of two, large, windowless warehouse walls, a dumpster, several piles of trash, and graffiti.

"Yeah well," Conner bent down, trying to see if he could spot the gun or the bullet anywhere along the pavement. "That's nice, but not happening."

If Conner had been smarter, he would have done this sooner, but spite more than common sense fueled him, and he scoured the dark alleyway while Lex heaved the great sigh of a man who felt like he must be the only rational head in the room.

"Conner, you have to understand, this is out of my hands. Danger like this isn't healthy for children. Even if you want to stay, I can't reasonably allow this to continue."

Conner paused in his search. "You don't get to allow anything. You gave up that right when you tossed me -"

"Conner! Conner please. Let me finish."

He glared at the wall in front of him and tried to focus on trash heap in front of him. If he could say anything positive about Gotham's back alleys, at least they offered great privacy. Perfect for stabbing high schoolers. Or yelling at billionaires.

"As I was saying," Lex continued, "If something like this happens again, it won't be me you have to worry about."

Conner did not like the sound of that underlying threat. "Lex…"

"I'm afraid that if I feel your safety is in danger I am obliged to call the cops."

Conner's fist clenched. "Don't you dare."

"Honestly I'm not sure why I'm not calling them right now-"

"Lex, please, listen," Conner could feel himself panicking. This hadn't been the conversation he planned in his head, "Listen I'm fine."

"I wish I could believe that, but honestly I haven't seen you in years I don't know what to believe-"

"What do you want Lex."

Lex paused. "Come visit me. I have a free weekend in a few weeks. Maybe you'll come to your senses once you see Metropolis."

"And if I don't?"

"You will."

" If I don't?"

Lex sighed again. "I won't call the cops, Conner. I just want what's best for you."

Conner hung up. He wanted to scream. Instead he stared at the graffiti on the walls. This always happened with Lex. No matter what Conner thought would happen, Lex always sounded reasonable to the point of cruelty. Only Lex Luthor could make calling the cops on Clark, the man who could barely afford the shoes he wore, who painted Conner's room red on request, who made Conner soup and asked him awkward parent questions, sound like a reasonable course of action.

The graffiti on the walls of the alley depicted series of clowns, painted over by countless vandals. Conner recognized a skullface, an anarchy symbol, along with many less than complimentary opinions about cops. Someone had sprayed over one of the faces of the clowns in bright, angry red.

He grew increasingly frustrated, however. Despite physically scouring the alley and checking the drain at the end of the alley, no sign of a bullet popped up. Which meant either Tim had it or the cops did.

Or maybe he really did hallucinate it.

Luckily, Gotham's Crime rate made school drama a given, and soon both Clark and the student body seemed perfectly content to return to normal and stop bothering him about the crash in the parking lot. It helped that Conner didn't tell anyone about his little mugger incident. And if Tim was giving him weird looks from across the cafeteria, he ignored it.

He learned from Stephanie, after some roundabout questions about some of the tags in the alley, that the area he had wandered into was probably pretty close to where a local gang did a lot of drug peddling. Which seemed as good an explanation as any, as Conner had never met any drug dealers outside of his own small town idiot high school friends.

There was one, small, bump in the road, however.

"Conner, hey, you have a moment?"

Conner looked up, surprised. He sat in Chemistry studying the periodic table while he waited for the bell. He still thought, even as he cross checked his homework, he had done it wrong. The girl who spoke was the tall, gorgeous blonde Cassie and he shared English class with. Cissie King-Jones.

"Oh, hey," Conner said, still surprised.

She flipped her hair, a little unnecessarily, but Conner could appreciate dramatics. And she seemed like the dramatic type. A white miniskirt, too short for dress code, and flowery tank top matched her beaded headband and perfectly polished nails. If Conner had to guess, he wouldn't have said she came from money so much as she wished she had.

Tim watched them both with a burning intensity that Conner could feel through the back of his jacket. It made him simultaneously self conscious, and eager to milk the moment for all it was worth.

"Did you hear that homecoming is going to be a Sadie Hawkins thing?" She asked.

Conner hadn't. "Wait, we have homecoming? When?"

He could swear Tim snickered, but Cissie just shrugged. "In a few weeks. I'm surprised someone like you doesn't know."

"Like me?"

"Well don't you play football?"

Conner didn't know what to do with that question so he stared. "No?"

Tim definitely snickered. Asshole probably was delighted at Conner putting his foot in his mouth in front of a pretty girl.

"Really?" She seemed genuinely surprised, but shook it off easily. "No matter, I was wondering if you wanted to come with me to the dance. I'm running for homecoming queen obviously so you have to run with me, but I think it will be fun."

Tim did a poor job of hiding his amusement, and Conner wondered if he was trying at all. And to make matters worse, he had to come up with an excuse because, if he did his math right, that weekend would be his weekend with Lex. Normally Conner would have killed to hang out with someone as hot as Cissie. And to run for Homecoming King. It would have been so normal and Clark would have had a field day.

"Cissie, I would love to," she looked elated, "But I can't. I have a...thing I have to go to. In Metropolis. I'll be gone for that weekend."

Cissie turned bright red, stuttered some apology, and then bolted back to her seat and lab partner. Conner sighed.

"You don't play football?"

Conner turned to see amusement shining in Tim's eyes.

"And you don't play polo. Who's stereotyping now? . " Conner sneered, "And you have some nerve talking to me."

"Are you still mad about that mugger thing?" Tim seemed way more lighthearted than usual, and it put Conner ill at ease.

"No matter what you say, I know I'm not crazy, ok? So leave me alone. You may have all these other people fooled, but I'll figure out your secret eventually." Conner refused to back down, and he held Tim's gaze as the other boy's amusement quickly faded.

Tim looked paler, if it was at all possible, and for the first time Conner noticed bags under his eyes. They stood out starkly on his pale skin.

"You really shouldn't mess around with stuff you don't understand," said Tim and he turned to his notebook right as Ms. Isley called on him.

And that wasn't the end of it of Conner's torment.

After class, as he was trying to sneak by Cissie without damaging her ego further, he found himself stuck behind Tim and Steph on their way to AP Art. They were all squeezed into a narrow hallway that separated the recreational buildings from the main campus, and Conner could tell Steph and Tim were talking to each other. He tried to eavesdrop, but could hear absolutely nothing. Traitor.

His impatience worsened when Cassie sidled up to him. "Hey Conner."

"Hey Cassie." Conner said, not liking the look in her innocent, big blue eyes as she smiled shyly. In front of him, Tim and Stephanie slowed down, if anything. "I was thinking, about the car thing,"

"It's fine ," he said.

Cassie ignored his obvious discomfort and barrelled ahead into what Conner had known was coming, and Conner had to give her props for persistence. "What if I made it up to you by taking you to the homecoming?"

Conner sighed. "I can't, I'm going to Metropolis that weekend."

"Oh," Conner felt incredibly bad for turning her down. And frankly if she had asked before Lex he might have gladly said yes for the chance at a low pressure evening with friends. Instead he tried to salvage the situation, "You know, it was actually Jaime's car that took the brunt of the damage. You could always offer to go with him."

Cassie looked skeptical at that idea but nodded. "Uh huh, well. You're sure you can't get out of the Metropolis thing?"

"I'm sure Cassie."

Cassie disappeared down the hallway, pushing past Tim and Steph, and Conner watched her go only to catch Tim peering at him curiously.

"What?"

"Nothing," but he looked a little too happy. Stephanie shot Conner a look full of I-know-something-you-don't, and sped up after Cassie. She had better have been playing double agent or Conner would never forgive this betrayal.

Tim didn't notice because he didn't take his eyes off Conner. "Are you really going to Metropolis that weekend?"

"What's it to you?" Conner asked.

Tim shrugged. "Seems weird."

"You're weird."

Tim sighed. And Conner could admit to himself that he was acting childish. But not aloud. Never to Tim.

"So it's not just an excuse to get out of going?" Tim asked.

"Timothy Drake Wayne, Cissie King-Jones, hottest girl in class, asked me to run as her Homecoming King. If I could bail on Metropolis I would in a heartbeat. I'm stupid not insane."

"I see." Tim spared him one more judgemental glance, and then stepped aside. "Have fun in gym."

Conner hadn't even realized he'd arrived. The other kids were staring. Which was nothing new, kid's tended to stare the Waynes, but feeling the scrutiny first hand, Conner puffed up.

"What are you looking at?" he asked a wimpy looking kid. The kid jumped, and everyone started minding their own business. "Unbelievable."

He turned to say something, maybe goodbye, to Tim, but he was already gone.