Firs, pines, and aspen trees flanked the rocky slopes on either side of the cabin. Tucked neatly in a canyon between two high-altitude Great Basin mountains somewhere in Nevada, it walked the line between remote and impractical. Several other properties dotted the landscape nearby, mostly rentals, according to Lex, since apparently they weren't far from a state park with a reservoir. There was a medium sized town by the interstate, but most communities in the area weren't big enough to warrant more than a few stoplights, much less cameras.

It was perfect for anyone not looking to be found. Secure.

To call it a cabin, though, was like calling Mount Justice a clubhouse; it stretched the limits of definition to an almost insulting degree. Polished timber and glass had been melded in a starkly minimalist and wholly unnatural architecture that seemed to cut the sky with it's sloped roof. The interior was huge, at least 6,500 square feet. Ten separate bedrooms, not counting a convertible bunk room in the game area that could hold a dozen more. Jetted tubs and heated tiles in every bathroom. A small theatre next to a game room that also doubled as a library.

Conner could have easily avoided seeing the other two residents of the cabin; they had more than enough space to accomplish that. He didn't actually try.

Three days passed at a crawl, slowed by boredom and loneliness. Apart from meals and tests, Lex preferred to stay in his lab during daylight hours. Mercy was ever present, doing everything from cleaning to cooking to managing Lex's emails, though the android wasn't remotely inclined to converse the way Red Tornado was. Conner found himself turning the TV on for the sake of creating noise; without it, the echo of his own footsteps were the only signs of life in the damn place. Entertaining himself was easy- there were a lot of books and Conner had unrestricted access to the internet- but the social isolation gnawed at him in a way it hadn't on the road.

"You are actively losing your mind, aren't you?" Lex asked from somewhere behind him. Conner opened his eyes, turning to see Lex at the bar pouring himself a liquid lunch. The man raised his eyebrows, popping a martini olive into his glass like a nail into a coffin. "Three days. You made it three days before getting cabin fever. Your mental fortitude is appalling."

Conner scowled. He sat cross legged on the carpet by the sofa cluster with a TV. In front of him, the channel spat white noise at the room. "It's day four, and no. I do this to relax."

Lex wrinkled his nose as he sipped his glass, then added another splash of gin. Despite the fact that it was past noon, he was still dressed in rumpled pajamas and a bathrobe. "Like people who listen to rainforest noises to meditate? I didn't take you for quite such a crunchy granola type. Maybe the plaid shirts and Timberlands should have tipped me off."

Dragging himself to his feet and past Lex at the bar, Conner dug around in the small mini fridge under the counter where Mercy had begun stocking energy drinks for him. He wasn't sure if she knew they wouldn't work, but he appreciated the gesture "They're military boots. If it bothers you so much, maybe design a kid with fashion sense next time, D-" Conner shut his mouth with a click.

Lex's look was damn near predatory. "What was that?"

"Nothing."

"No, you were going to call me something." Lex took a delicate sip of his drink. "Dad, I believe. You nearly called me Dad."

"You're hearing things." Conner glowered and gestured to the screen with the can in a less than subtle bid to shift the conversation. "And no, it's not just background noise. There's… shapes."

Lex's eyes hadn't lost that satisfied gleam, but he went along. That didn't stop Conner from grumpily feeling like he'd lost some debate anyway. "That's called snow. Or 'ant football' in Hungarian. We have real sports channels, you know; though, I must warn you that I will judge you if you watch them."

Conner scowled. He had no doubt about that. His background noise of nineties sitcoms had already come under fire. "No, I mean, I can hear the shapes. The other sounds buried in the static."

There was a pause. "Your hearing is sensitive enough to hyperfocus on electromagnetic interference, maybe outright radiation, and apply some sort of visualization to the sensation." Lex's long look seemed to dissect like a science class frog as Conner took a swig of energy drink. "How long?"

"Always." Conner hesitated, staring at the little pool of liquid on the lip of the can. "My hearing isn't very good lately, but the TV amplifies it so I can still hear most of it. It's nice. Like it used to be."

"A quirk of your regular powers then," Lex decided, evidently less interested since it wasn't a symptom and thus, not a piece of his latest puzzle. "We can test the nuances of that when you've recovered, if you'd like."

"If I recover, you mean."

"I don't fail."

"Sure you don't. You just toss any fights with big blue boyscouts for fun, right?" Conner went back to the couch, swearing as the TV screen darkened. Again. He snatched up the remote. "Damn it. It timed out again. Is there a setting for that?"

"I'll have Mercy look into it."

Something hard and metallic smacked into his shoulder. He twisted, looking down at the keys that clattered to the floor, and gave Lex a withering glance. "What?"

"Your reflexes are shot," Lex said. "As is your object recognition, apparently." At Conner's unchanged expression, he added, "I had Mercy bring a second car. You're not a prisoner, so go entertain yourself before you start carving haikus or something equally droll into my walls."

"Not my thing." Conner snatched the keys off the floor. "I took sculpture."

Conner was confident that somewhere in Atlanta, there was a middle aged choir director with an enormous hat who wanted her judgey expression back. Lex barely seemed able to pry his lips apart to speak. "And that is your thing?"

"It was fine for my fine arts requirement."

Lex half-heartedly toasted him. "Bringing us to yet another questionable decision of yours. Why study history? Technically, Liberal Arts is the most useless degree, but aiming for the second on that list of majors is not much better-"

Conner stiffened. "How do you know I studied history?"

How Lex found out was beyond the problem, at the moment. More important was how much did Lex know ? If he knew Conner's degree, he knew which University he'd been attending, and thus probably his full name and registered address. That meant Martian Manhunter's cover was likely blown too, given that he was Conner's legal guardian and emergency contact until he'd turned "eighteen", as well as M'gann's...

"Oh, relax," Lex said, leaning back against the bar and assessing his thought process in a glance. "I've kept tabs. What kind of evil scientist of a father do you think I am?"

"The Doctor Frankenstein kind," Conner snapped.

Kent was a fairly common last name, but even the slightest risk to Superman's secret identity was gut clenchingly bad. He'd already been hoping to die before speaking to Clark again, but if Lex had discovered him, had discovered Ma and Pa, he-

"Dr. Frankenstein was an imbecile who spent the rest of his miserable life trying to dodge his responsibilities to his offspring, taking more and more drastic measures until it killed him," Lex drawled. "That sounds more like your and Clark's relationship than ours, doesn't it?"

Lex's shirt fisted in his hands before Conner consciously realized he must have used a burst of super speed to make it over there so fast. He shoved Lex up against the tile wall behind the counter, ignoring his grunt.

"You're overreacting," Lex informed him, eyes narrowing. He didn't make an effort to free himself. Maybe he was already drunk. Or high. Or both. It would explain his utter lack of self-preservation. "I've known his legal identity for over a decade. What? Did you think I made a kid with someone whose name I didn't even know? What kind of man do you take me for?"

His offspring of highly dubious cloning ethics and stolen alien DNA didn't dignify that with an answer.

"Aside from that, it wasn't exactly a secret that his reception of you was dismal. Leaguers gossip just like everyone else. Even the criminal underworld got a chance around the water cooler to condemn him for acting like such a deadbeat."

Conner's mind spun in horrified, humiliated circles. "Wait. Everyone knows he didn't want me?"

"Everyone who knows that you exist, yes." Lex reached around Conner's grip and patted his arm. Whether it was meant as a comforting gesture or an instruction to release him was unclear, though Conner eased up anyway. His arms were starting to ache, even through the adrenaline. He was a little tempted to resume the hold when he realized letting Lex down called attention to the sharp contrast in their heights in some kind of cruel insult to injury. "If it's any consolation, Superman gets all the derision and you the sympathy. Even villains have children; most aren't in favor of abandoning them. Sportsmaster, in particular, had quite a soapbox on the topic."

"Seriously?" Conner's brain wasn't working. Wasn't processing right.

"I know you probably didn't get the best impression of him as a parent through his daughter, but he never refused to acknowledge that she was his. I got the impression he sent money to her mother regularly, even if she refused to take it most of the time."

Wait. "You said everyone knows. Do they know that Clark is…"

"Superman's alter ego? God, no. Well, I haven't told most of them." He glanced at Conner's face and rolled his eyes. "The advantages of maintaining my silence outweigh the benefits of shouting it from the rooftops. It's handy to keep track of his comings and goings while not in cape. I get a copy of his lease agreement before he does, on average. Otherwise, leveraging his human parents invites his direct intervention. Not only is that typically more trouble than it's worth, but also rather defeats the purpose of knowing about the Kents if anyone can murder them and ruin the option for me. Outing his human self would also preclude him from working a standard 9-5 schedule, and I like the predictability."

Conner bit the inside of his cheek, studying Lex's face for any hint of deception. Released him entirely to fold his arms. "Does he know that you know?"

Lex snorted. "Of course he does. How do you think I tested the viability of threatening his parents?" He raised a placating hand at Conner's sudden flare. "Just threats. Relax. Now that they're your grandparents, I have even more reason to leave them be. Doing anything else might require I go to Kansas. Kryptonite cancer I can take, but that might just kill me."

Conner glared down at the floor and stepped away, unwilling to offer Lex an opportunity to add fuel to the fire. Hurt pooled in his stomach like lava, burning him with the rage that simmered just below. Clark knew that Lex Luthor knew his secret identity and had for years? Had never seen fit to mention that fact?

Everything felt twisted in knots and threatening, like those first couple of months out of his pod when he was all alone and anger was the only thing that gave him control. Resentment was nothing new to him, but this…. he'd thought he'd gotten over it when Clark decided to let him be a part of his life.

As it turned out, there was quite the backlog.

To think, how happy he'd felt when Clark revealed his name to him, at the sign of immense trust and acceptance. To think, that Conner had listened attentively to the endless warnings about what could happen if he let anything slip, even half a consonant, to the point that Clark wouldn't let Conner call him by his human name for two years afterwards. To think, how he'd swallowed his shock to find out that Clark had a human family after being mentored by him for two and a half years, how stupid he felt to have assumed that Clark was like J'onn; arriving on this planet as an adult and maintaining a civilian identity for various reasons, but ultimately all alone like Conner. To think, how guilty and small he'd felt after taking the Team to shelter at the Kent farm (not even in the house) for just a few hours, because they needed a place to hide where no one would betray them. Clark had carried on and on about what a risk that had been to Ma and Pa, how he knew Conner didn't mean to expose them to danger, but how disappointed he was that Conner hadn't thought things through and considered it as though they were actually his parents- like Conner hadn't been trying to comply with Clark's decree that they be his parents instead of him.

He was going to hit something. If he didn't get out of here right now, it would be Lex.

Conner whirled on his feet and barreled for the door, fingers scrabbling for the keys in his pocket.

Lex, apparently, had entirely lost his ability to read body language, based off the sounds of him following him to the door. "Conner, wait a minute. I didn't mean…. You… I'll need more samples in order to-"

"Do them when I get back," Conner snarled over his shoulder. "Leave me alone."

It wasn't until he was in the car- a mud spattered late model jeep that wouldn't look entirely out of place in the area- trying diligently not to bend the steering wheel (if he even could anymore), that Conner realized what that final expression he'd seen on Lex's face was.

Relief. Because Conner had promised to come back.

He rested his forehead against the steering wheel, breath leveling with a strange sort of pause. Lex might be a narcissistic wannabe-dictator who'd grown him in a lab out of spite and a desire for more power, but at least he wanted him. Mostly to further his own agenda, but enough to try and persuade him to stay.

Even if Lex's motivations were selfish, it wasn't… nothing.

It should be nothing, but it wasn't and Conner didn't know what to do with that so he turned on the car and drove away, hyper aware of Lex watching him go.

Conner descended the steps to the lab below, wincing a little at the artificial light radiating from the lightbulbs above. It was strange, all the things that could give him headaches now. Not to mention, being able to get headaches in the first place.

Speaking of human sized headaches….

Lex paced in front of his workspace, cell phone pressed almost languidly to his ear. He spotted Conner and waved an acknowledging finger. "I don't care what Schumarker wants, I want those samples and reagents tonight. Yes, especially the minerals. I don't- no, you listen to me- I don't give a damn about the paper trail. You're a big boy, make something up. Mercy will be there tonight and if they aren't ready, I will reign a hell down on you that will make Schumarker's snit look like a temper tantrum. Get it done." He stabbed the screen and dropped the phone on the table.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Conner sighed. "Ruining someone's life for fun and for profit?"

Lex snorted. "Don't feel too bad for Nigel, son. The amount of sealed records surrounding his fraternity years suggest he either raped someone or hazed someone to death or both. What did you want?"

Conner dangled the keys from his hand. "Going into town. Want anything?"

"Unless you happen to see a HPLC UV Detector with variable wavelengths, no." Lex turned back to his work station. It was built up of a series of clear screens and panels that had data projected on to their surfaces, much like the ones the Justice League used. Conner wondered briefly if they got them from the same vendor. Lex squinted at one of the screens, before tapping at it to expand. "Though I wouldn't say no to another bag of those dill chips."

"I'll see if they have any," Conner said. He watched Lex scowl at whatever it was he was looking at. By silent agreement, neither of them ever mentioned Conner's storming out a few nights ago and had quickly resumed their old routine, punctuated by Conner driving into town every other day on mostly invented errands. It was nice to be somewhere with people noise- a habit he'd no doubt gotten used to from the constant coming and goings of Mount Justice- which meant that every so often, Conner would find himself wandering down to the labs out of boredom, if only to listen to Lex mutter threats under his breath at the machines. "Anything interesting?"

Lex glanced up from where he was glowering at his results. "Nothing particularly helpful, just surprising." He pushed the screen to the side, so Conner could see it better. On it, a close up of cells, colored hot red to iridescent green like a heat map, offset by flares of purple. "I've confirmed your stem cells aren't viable."

Conner snorted. "I could have told you that. Oh, wait: I did."

Lex scowled. "Yes, your episkevi stem cells-"

"My what?" Conner's eyes narrowed. His Cadmus programming had included a basic understanding of anatomy, but what the word wasn't a medical one. His understanding of Greek suggested it meant recover but that made no sense in context either.

"It's an organ without a human analog," Lex said impatiently. "We don't entirely understand it, of course, but we know it's where Kryptonians generate the majority of their stem cells- in fact, they generate far more than humans do; even under red light conditions, they likely had an easier time fighting illness and repairing their bodies. However, your hybridization means you have two major production centers- your episkevi and your bone marrow, like the rest of the human race. If anything, the redundancy should ensure that one can always pick up the slack of the other, like I designed them to, but-" and here Lex glowered at the readouts. "-both seem to be barely working. I expected one system to have been damaged somehow, but both…."

Conner raised an eyebrow. "So you think the entire problem is in my stem cells?"

"No, the problem is also that you're not absorbing solar energy, though that is significantly harder to measure. Something else must have at least partially compromised your stem cells, or whatever is causing the solar energy uptake issues in your bio cellular matrix would have been resolved." Lex turned to him, glancing him over with a critical eye. "Which reminds me. Did you sunbathe today?"

"I spent the whole morning laying on the deck."

"East facing?"

Conner grimaced. "Of course, I'm not an idiot."

"Good." Lex turned back to the screen and gave it a tired tilt of his head. "At any rate, this adds something to our hail-mary list. If I can flood your body with fresh, healthy stem cells, I could theoretically buy you some time. Of course, without a proper energy source, those cells won't be able to do much at all, so it's only slightly better than doing nothing. You wouldn't happen to know what the League did with your umbilical cord, do you?"

Conner stared at him as though he'd grown a second head.

Lex let out an annoyed grunt and held up his hands in a rough estimation of the size of a football. "We preserved it for reasons like this. In a jar. At Cadmus. Which the Justice League raided. If it wound up in the government's hands, I would have gotten it back by now, so I assume it's in an evidence room somewhere. Languishing. Stored improperly."

"I didn't even know I'd had one."

"You have a navel. Did you not glance at it at least once and assume- nevermind. It would probably take too long to grow the cultures big enough to matter anyway; I just want to keep my options-" Lex broke off, hunching. His hand rose to clutch at his chest, though Conner doubted he could feel it through the vest.

Conner took a cautious half step towards him. "Da- I mean, Lex. Are you alright-?"

Lex staggered over to the nearest trashcan and vomited.

Wincing, Conner swallowed back the irrational urge to join him (he'd laughed so hard at Wally the first time he'd seen him sympathetically vomit, it had seemed so stupid and oh god how he understood the teen's righteous indignation now) and turned away. Busied himself with going to one of the cold sample fridges which held a small stash of water bottles.

As soon as the lack of noise made it safe to turn around, he joined Lex where he slumped on the floor and pressed the chilled plastic against his forehead. "I might not be an expert, but I know drinking helps. Not scotch. Water."

With an irritated scowl, Lex took the bottle and unscrewed the lid for a ragged swallow. "And I am an expert, who can assure you, that scotch does indeed pair better with chemotherapy than water." He took another petulant sip. "Or at least it's more gratifying."

Conner felt his brows furrow. "You said the vest stopped the cancer from spreading. Are you doing chemotherapy still?"

"Small doses, yes," Lex grit out. He gave Conner an amused glance over the rim of the bottle as he took another swig. "Just because the vest has slowed it to a crawl doesn't mean I've called a truce. You might be too noble from your time in the Junior Boyscouts Division, but kicking your opponent while they're down is a universally effective strategy."

Conner rolled his eyes and tugged Lex to his feet. "You'd be surprised. We spent a lot more time on bypassing security systems and how to avoid leaving implicating evidence than we did on ethics." He strode towards the door. "Dill chips. Got it."

"Thanks, son."

The city of Caliente sat just off the state highway, nestled precariously in the high desert between pitted, craggy mountains. For a town of roughly 1,000 people, it boasted only five places to eat and spectacularly few of the usual modes of entertainment. Anyone hoping to catch a movie or shop at more than three stores had an hour's drive to look forward to. Sporty types were fortunate only if they happened to be into hot springs or recreational sunburns.

Conner was perfectly satisfied with this little corner of the world. The sun dappled brightly through the pergola over the coffee shop's patio, entwined with sweet smelling bunches of wisteria and punctuated by silver green strands of burro's tails. The owners were friendly, nosey types and the hint of the old-western twang to their questions charmed Conner into answering semi-honestly. As far as they were concerned, he was a nice, polite teenager vacationing with his father in one of the many cabins in the area. The fact that he never had a kayak or mountain bike strapped to his jeep got him a raised eyebrow or two, as the great outdoors was the only appeal to this destination, but Conner made vague comments about hiking and took his coffee and dozen pastries outside.

It was nice. He could shut his eyes and soak up the sun, maybe with a good book propped open in front of him. Plenty of background noise as locals came and went and tires passed over the smooth concrete as they hurried on or stopped to gas up on long roadtrips. Apart from polite nods, most people left him to his business.

Hence why it was so startling when Kaldur slid into the seat across from him, Wolf in tow.

"You are not an easy man to find these days," his friend said, in that strikingly calm manner he had. He crossed his hands over his stomach as Wolf let out a soft, happy huff and braced his paws against his shoulders to lick his lips and nose once. "And you have been missed."

Conner couldn't quite suppress his delight and ran his fingers through the dense, coarse fur that could only be softened by gallons of conditioner and patience neither he nor Wolf possessed. A feeling a lot like home washed over him as Wolf's claws clicked against the pavement as he rocked back into a sitting position. Conner glanced around, bracing himself for whatever other members of the Team had tagged along.

Oh, god. This was going to be a nightmare to explain to the League.

"It is simply me today," Kaldur assured him, pale green eyes as warm as they were somber. Like Conner, he was dressed both discreetly and for the weather: his tank top was a similar burnt orange to his new uniform and he wore a loose pair of black pants. His gills were invisible, covered in the skin colored latex Batman had designed for more covert missions where neck coverings would be noteworthy. Fingerless rock climbing gloves concealed his webbed hands. Conner knew the desert heat was harder on his Atlantean body than he was letting on. Accepted it for the sign of friendship that it was. "You could say I'm just checking in."

"How did you find me?"

"It was no small task. You are certainly adept at staying off the grid. I had to resort to asking Zatanna to use a locator spell, but even she could only get me within a hundred miles or so. Wolf has been so kind as to assist me by checking each town for your scent."

It sounded like days, if not weeks, of work. Conner chewed on the inside of his cheek. "Sorry about that, but…"

Kaldur waited a beat or two. "But you didn't wish to be found? I'd gathered that from how you left behind every conceivable method we had of contacting you." A small hesitation. "How are you doing, Conner?"

"J'onn told you, didn't he?" Conner sighed and looked back down at Wolf's face. "Who else?"

"As far as I know, just me. He never desired to violate your privacy, but when he tried to reach out to you in order to verify your current condition, he found that no one had heard from you in several weeks and grew concerned. Thus, he asked me to locate you and make contact."

"Have you reported in?"

"Not yet."

"Well, I'm doing alright." Conner looked up, giving him a crooked smile. If Martian Manhunter had to pick anyone to tell, he was glad it was Kaldur. He'd always preferred the Atlantean's gentle serenity to the more volatile personalities of his teammates. "Considering."

"Your powers have diminished."

"What tipped you off?"

"You didn't hear us coming. Wolf made quite the ruckus when he picked up your scent."

Conner felt his lips twist into amused furrows. The great lazy beast curled up on the concrete pavers at his feet as Conner sat back in his chair. "I bet. You're right: they're more or less unusable these days. I haven't made a point of testing, but I can only use them in short spurts, if at all."

"And your health?"

"Not great, but I can function."

"I'm glad to hear it." They sat in silence for another few seconds. "I don't mean to pry, but what have you been doing with this time away? I understand needing some space, after ending your recent relationship with M'gann, but... " Kaldur glanced around the patio. "This feels more like withdrawal. From everything. From everyone."

"You're not wrong," Conner allowed. He reached for his paper coffee cup, mostly for something to keep his hands occupied. "I just wanted to be alone. To deal with this on my own terms without having to comfort anyone else."

"I think it is you who would receive the most comfort."

Conner shook his head. "I don't think so. I would be offered the most, certainly, and everyone would want to help, but the truth is that there is nothing anyone can do except watch me slowly die. Yeah, maybe it would be nice to spend my final days as a team, but I don't think anyone would be happy. Maybe at first, but once I get worse? Once I can't get out of bed and need a nurse just to use the bathroom?" Conner dug his fingers into the sides of his almost empty cup, easing up a split second too late as it sent coffee splashing over the edge. He dropped it on the table with a grimace, shaking coffee from his fingertips. "I don't know how J'onn explained it to you, but this isn't… it's not going to be fast. I'm not just going to drop dead. I'll be miserable and in pain while my organs give out, cell by cell. Everyone will not only watch me get weak, they'll have to watch me waste away in agony. None of the treatments change that, so I don't want them. It's better this way."

"It's better that you just disappear?" Kaldur asked gently.

"Why not?" Conner shrugged and looked out over the street. It had been only three months or so since the speedster had died, yet the grief was already a dull flicker when his name came up. Selfishly perhaps, Conner had been wrapped up in his own problems. "It's what Wally did. I used to think that was cruel, but now I'm not so sure. We might not have had a chance to say goodbye but who knows if that would have made it any better. Death just sucks."

"That it does." Kaldur sighed and put his elbows on the table, looking at Conner past his joined palms. "But I don't see what you think being out here will improve. You said it yourself. Eventually, you will require care whether you like it or not. Will you return then?"

"I've got it covered."

"How?"

"Just trust me."

"I do, but I also care about you. This is an extremely difficult situation and I know you can be reckless, despite having grown immensely in the time I've known you."

"What are you getting at?"

A cautious stare. "When I couldn't find you for so long, I feared you might have… attempted to streamline things. I still am."

"You mean kill myself before it gets too bad?" Conner asked bluntly, smiling a little at Kaldur's shallow nod. "Tried that. Didn't work."

Kaldur's breath caught. "Conner-"

"It's fine. I threw up the Kryptonite and learned my lesson. Don't worry about me trying it again."

"I say this as your friend, but if this is the point you've already reached…" Kaldur took in a fortifying breath. "Isolation, while advantageous in other ways, can take a psychological toll. I do not think you should be alone right now, regardless of what you prefer. Please. Your medical condition alone requires-"

Conner glanced away. "I'm not alone, Kaldur. I told you, I've got my end of life care arranged for too. I don't want to go back to the Watchtower and have this rehashed again with a bigger audience."

Kaldur gave Conner a steady look. His voice had no hint of request. "Who?"

There was no point in not answering, Conner realized. Kaldur had already found him. Once he reported in, it would take little time for the League to locate the cabin if they put even a fraction of resources to it. "My father."

Kaldur's eyebrows shot up. "I thought Superman is on that diplomatic mission in sector forty three. And that you and he still considered-"

Conner set his jaw and gave him a pointed look.

"Ah. Lex Luthor." Kaldur was quiet for a long moment, considering his clasped hands. Looked up a moment later, face devoid of judgement. "Tell me how this came to be."

Conner dragged a palm across his face and grimaced. On some level, he'd known he'd have to do this eventually. It didn't necessarily make it easier.

He stuck to the short version. It still took a good fifteen minutes. Before he knew it, his explanation had devolved into an outright rant.

"-and I know, he's just doing it for his own ego and for his own cure. I do. I assure you, I am fully conscious of that fact, but I don't know…." Conner rubbed the back of his neck. "It's nice. In such a weird way, it's nice. I'm… a little bit happy, even. I like having a dad. He's not even a good one, but just having one is… nice? It's hard to describe."

Kaldur nodded. Not once had his attention strayed. "I think I understand."

"I don't! This makes no sense. Being around him is not what I thought it would be and it's giving me something I didn't have before. Something important." Conner glared around them, as though the right words and concepts were loafing about instead of helping him phrase things. "Like a point of origin? I mean, I came from a Cadmus pod and I know why I was made, but this gives me… more. A bigger context for my life. One I didn't realize that I've been starving for. Like a place in the world that I don't feel trapped by or obligated to. Between all of his weird, stray comments of how I was engineered to be perfect and his fucked up stories about what it means to be a Luthor, I feel… more like a person? Less like I came from a test tube, ironically. I mean, I know I came from a test tube but now it feels like I also come from a family, half of which sound like they were the American industrialist versions of Game of Thrones-"

"Hm. You mean like Mad Men?"

"Way worse than Mad Men," Conner said, widening his eyes for emphasis. "You have no idea. I always thought that his personal reasons for making me with his own DNA was to get back at Superman, but no. That's too simple. My existence is his biological revenge on, like, thirteen different people. Thirteen , including his own mother who probably sterilized him and gave him cancer-" Conner broke off and covered his face with his hands. Took a breath. "It's messed up and complicated, but it's nice in spite of that. No, actually, maybe it's nice because of that. We just let it be what it is: I'm his bio-engineered revenge son, he's my fucked up science dad. There's no pretending the things that bother us aren't problems; we don't carefully pick the words we use to describe each other for the sake of making our relationship palatable. We get along, and it's fine. We scream at each other, and it's equally fine. To call it acceptance would be a disservice to the word 'fact'. We both just exist as what we are without denying it and it's so much of a fucking relief I almost can't handle it."

Kaldur put his palm flat on Conner's chest, over his heart. Conner realized suddenly that his voice had risen, though they weren't close enough to the interior that anyone could make out the words. His eyes were kind. "I am glad you have it then, if it brings you peace."

Conner snorted. It came out even more bitter than he planned. "It actually makes me angry too. At Superman. All those years of dancing around the situation and trying so hard and I just… He never gave me this. This one stupid little thing. Lex is an egotistical trainwreck of a person who shouldn't be entrusted with the care of a comatose goldfish, and he gave it to me without even thinking about it."

Kaldur gave him a tentative, somber smile and eased back into his seat. "It sounds like his world is… untroubled by complication."

He couldn't help but laugh, feeling himself settle down despite it. "And morality. And human decency. And anything resembling mental health." He pushed himself backwards in his chair, dropping a hand to Wolf's raised head. The canine had noticed his mounting agitation, but hadn't gotten worked up in absence of an obvious threat; merely watched him with his black and yellow eyes, ready to dish out comfort or war. Still a good boy. "Go ahead. Tell me I'm crazy."

"You are not crazy."

"That's not right. I must be."

Kaldur gave him a dry look. "You are not. I might not be a psychologist, but I am no stranger to complicated relationships with a criminal father."

Alright. Maybe someone could understand what he was going through. The thought was more than a little reassuring.

"Point." Conner raised an eyebrow. "How are things between you and Manta?"

"Better than I expected. We still write each other." The Atlantean shrugged and shook his head. "If I've learned one thing from my own experience it is that love, like everything else, just… is. Not good or bad. Independent. Independent from ourselves even. Finding out Manta was my father and spending time with him made me feel complete: not because I was ever missing a part of myself, but because at last I had answers. Those answers didn't complete me, it was the knowledge that they didn't that made me feel whole."

Conner slowly nodded. "I think I understand."

"But that's not to say that what I learned from my father had no value. It simply didn't define me the way I thought it might."

"You betrayed him in the end," Conner said, searching his friend's face.

Kaldur nodded. "It was painful and hard, but yes, I did what I felt was right. I won't pretend that it did not hurt our relationship, because it did, but our bond simply goes deeper than that. How deep, I do not know, but I would like to find out." He gave Conner a small smile. "But you must be careful not to forget something. Mind you, I got this from Artemis so she gets the credit."

"What is it?"

"That you have a lot of choice about what bullshit you put up with."

Conner laughed. "Yeah, that sounds like her. Alright, that's pretty good. She deserves credit."

"Just know your limits, is at the heart of it. Respect your own boundaries first. If you have to shield a relationship from your own needs, it's not contributing to your life, it's taking from it. It's okay to walk away."

"This is a lot of good advice." Conner eyed the man across from him. "None of which I'll get to use if I'm dragged back to the Watchtower for medical treatment I don't want."

Kaldur held up a hand. "There will be no dragging, I promise. If this is what you want, then I will not stand in your way, even if I do not personally trust Lex. Your life is your own."

"Thank you. That means a lot."

"But I do have conditions." Kaldur gave him a mild look in return for Conner's huff. "First, you keep Wolf with you. He pines."

"Deal." Conner reached down to give him a pat. "You know I only left you behind because I didn't think you'd enjoy the road, right, boy? Besides, now we shouldn't stand out so much together if we don't go into any big towns for a while."

Wolf gave his hand an affirmative lick and lay back down.

"Second," Kaldur went on. "You must meet with me here every three days. Not only will it give me a chance to check in with you, it will give us a chance to catch up about everything else." He waved a hand at the street. "We can get lunch together or something. I will tell you about Dick's terrible dating life. Besides, it should help keep the League off your back if someone can say they have spoken to you recently."

Right. The League. Conner sighed. "What are you going to tell J'onn?"

"Well," Kaldur said slowly. "Since I think we can assume that he will not be as understanding about you spending time with Lex in lieu of medical treatment, I will have to lie to him." At Conner's raised eyebrow, he waved a hand. "I will spin something close enough to the truth that it will not ring false. Insist that you are working on a travel bucket list while you come to terms with your condition and do not wish to be disturbed."

"And you think he'll be satisfied with that?"

"For another month or two, at least," Kaldur agreed, shifting in his seat. "We will have to revisit this plan closer to then. He will want to know why you have not returned once traveling is no longer feasible and, regardless of what I tell him, he will likely seek you out in person."

Conner grimaced. "Well, I can't think of a better idea, so we'll cross that bridge when we get there. Thanks for doing this, Kaldur. It means a lot to me."

"I am happy that you will let me. You really have been missed and not just by Wolf." With that, the pale haired man stood and shot a baleful look at the sun, shielding his eyes with his webbed hand. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to run back to the safety of my climate conditioned SUV. I've got a three hour drive to the nearest zeta tube."

Conner raised a disbelieving eyebrow. No wonder no one had found him. "Three hours? What is this, some kind of a dead zone?"

"Worse." Kaldur's lips twitched as he started his short walk to where he'd parked at the curb. "This whole area is a UFO tourist destination. Area 51 is about an hour west from here. Too many civilians with cameras on the lookout for anything even mildly suspicious, ready to tweet our movements at the slightest provocation. You may want to be careful."

Conner chuckled and stood, Wolf mimicking him. "Good thing I'm only half alien, then. Take care, Kaldur."