Wolf's ears flattened as he froze, hackles raised. Backed up against the couch, Lex's posture was the human equivalent. Despite not moving an inch, Wolf chose that split second to let out a low, warning growl.

"Stop that, Wolf," Conner scolded him, nudging his flank gently with his heel as he set the 50 lb bag of dog food on the bar counter and began shedding stuffed white plastic bags from his arms. Super strength and impatience meant that Conner rarely suffered the indignity of two trips, a habit he refused to relinquish despite his chronic exhaustion. Frankly, he probably shouldn't have bought as many snacks as he did, but everything had looked amazing and ended up going in his cart before he could stop himself. As much as he'd heard not to ever shop hungry, there didn't seem to be many times when he wasn't anymore.

"What is that mutt doing here?" Lex demanded, shifting his glare but not taking a step in their direction. "Don't tell me your abomination tracked you from New Jersey?"

"He's got the chops but not the patience," Conner said, crouching to put away the many, many snacks he'd bought. He made a point of waving a bag of dill chips above the counter top before adding it to the rest and stood. "I take it you're more of a cat person."

"I'm more of a reptile fan." A quick flicker of infrared through the bar showed Conner that Lex still hadn't budged. "At least cats have the decency to ignore you unless strictly necessary."

"Lucky for you, that's Wolf's usual M.O." Conner stood, ripping open an enormous bag of trail mix and popping a few pieces in his mouth. "He's just also good at holding grudges." At Wolf's second growl, Conner gently cuffed him; it was more of a disapproving pet than anything else. "I'm serious. Cut that out. We both know who that is."

At that, Wolf gave him a dubious stare but relaxed his limbs and fell silent.

"I take it your savage little stray means that your associates have tracked you down."

"My friend," Conner corrected. "And, yes. Just the one. Aquaman has agreed to keep his mouth shut about me being out here with you, so there's no need to go calling for Mercy. He was just worried about me, but so long as I meet up with him in town every few days, he'll keep the League off my back about what I've been doing and with whom."

Lex raised his eyebrows. "That's a rather lenient stance, given my history with your team. Then again, I suppose if any of your so-called friends has an appreciation for moral gray areas, Black Manta's son would be one." He tapped a finger against his lips and glanced around the sun filled room. "I may upgrade the security system's protocols just in case."

"He's not going to tell anyone."

"My faith in your friends is vicarious at best. You'll just have to forgive my common sense."

Conner picked out a small sliver of jerky from the mix and tossed it to Wolf. The canine's jaws slammed together with a thunderous crack; a non-accidental show of force, judging from the side eye he gave Lex while doing it. Conner sighed. "I take it you're hiding out? I've noticed Mercy is the only one who comes here."

Lex shrugged. "More like laying low. I'd hate for any of my enemies to think now is a good time to strike, given that my diagnosis was made public when I stepped down. It would certainly complicate more things for you too, if more witnesses could place us together. My people are usually good about keeping their mouths shut, but the League has their ways. They can often be as ruthless as I am."

Conner couldn't help his snort. "Why do I get the feeling that I'm the least horrifying of your dirty little secrets?"

"I won't say you're wrong," Lex allowed, tilting his head. "But the secret part is more for your sake than mine. I would have claimed you publicly by your first birthday if I'd thought you and the League wouldn't have disavowed it. Now that you're legally an adult, consenting to amending your birth certificate would certainly make it easier for my lawyers to set up your inheritance. You have no idea how many fits they've pitched over email already: all the misery of probate and I haven't even died yet. It's probably half their fees worth of time."

"You're leaving me an inheritance?" Conner froze in the act of digging around in his trail mix for M&Ms.

"All of it, actually, apart from a small trust for Lena. You probably won't get much of LexCorp or whatever is deemed criminal after the fact, but my personal holdings should go to you with little contest." He scowled. "Once the legal vultures are done deciding which is which, you should at least have 200 million. Possibly closer to five hundred. It's not the full four billion my total holdings are worth, I know, but-"

Something clenched in his chest. It reminded him of being in a thunderstorm. "But I'm going to die before you."

"Not if I can help it." Lex shrugged. "Besides, I didn't do it recently." Taking in Conner's poleaxed look, he shook his head. "Just because we're only now on speaking terms, doesn't mean you weren't my son before this. Family isn't about voluntary association, or even love or trust. You're my legacy."

"You created me to help the Light take over the world. As a weapon," Conner snapped. "Don't pretend like my creation was about anything else."

"I'm not." Lex came to the bar counter under Wolf's watchful stare and drew himself into a bar chair. Glanced consideringly at the shining rows of bottles. "Admittedly, when I was designing you, my motives were entirely about the Light's goals and the thrill of cutting edge scientific achievement. Kryptonian DNA is notoriously difficult and creating any sort of functioning being with it automatically earns a place in the history books. My decision to use my own genetic material was also fairly clinical: not only are the sequences familiar to me, but I am, after all, the smartest man I've ever met. At the time, you were just a science experiment I made on the government's dime and hoped to mould into a weapon. You weren't even a person to me."

Conner stared down at his clenched fists. Forced them to release. "So what changed?"

"You did." Lex raised an eyebrow. "You broke out. You refused to follow the protocols we instilled in you. Despite the fact that we deliberately avoided giving you a personality, you grew your own in a matter of days. Days. I was every bit as pleased as I was irritated that it was ruining my plans. No, it would be more accurate to say that I was smug. Our radically different goals couldn't change the obvious fact that my genes had granted you this potential. Not only was I forced to acknowledge that you were a person in your own right, and my genetic offspring at that, but you carried the most essential, worthwhile part of me: my indomitable will. That was when I realized that you were my legacy, whether either of us liked it or not."

Conner gave him a thin look. "You mean, I'm a stubborn asshole, like you."

"Call it whatever you want," Lex said, climbing off his stool and circling to the other side of the bar to pour himself a drink. Took a big enough swallow that Conner knew he wasn't tasting the alcohol (probably not his first today, then). "But it is what it is. Calling you a dirty secret would imply that I'm ashamed of your existence; nothing could be further from the truth."

"Even though I spend a lot of time running around with boy scouts and trying to make the world a safer place from people like you?"

Lex sniffed. "Our shared will makes us contentious by nature. I'd be disappointed in you if you agreed with me on everything. It'd speak to a weak mind."

Conner didn't doubt it for a second. He went back to his trail mix. "Well, unless you made any huge breakthroughs today, you might want to consider alternative legacies."

"You mean having other kids?" Lex snorted into his drink. "No thanks. I abhor children: force growing you is the only reason we're having the conversation now and not in another ten years. Besides, after you, a human child would seem boring in comparison and I doubt I could get away with another hybrid project without catching some heat vision." He glanced at Conner inquisitively. "Unless you're that excited for similarly powered siblings?"

Conner pointedly returned the scotch to its place on the other side of the bar. It wouldn't stop Lex from drinking more but it made a firm suggestion. "For ethical reasons, I'm going to have to say no."

Lex hummed, giving Conner a 'I see what you did there and I don't like it' glance though he followed Conner from the bar to the main sitting area, pausing only to retrieve his dill chips. "Perhaps it's best your existence remains as unique as you."

"I doubt that," Conner muttered, patting Wolf as he shuffled over to drape on his side of the couch.

"What do you mean by that?"

He probably shouldn't say anything, but he hadn't lied to Kaldur earlier: his bitterness and anger with Superman only steeped as Lex continued to give him the most acceptance and validation out of his two parents. "Superman could have kids. You know. The normal way."

Lex snorted and offered him his bag. Conner plucked a few chips out; even though he didn't like the flavor, all food was appealing these days. His dad settled the bag between them. "I doubt he'll have much luck with that. You forget I've seen his genome. Appearances aside, Kryptonian DNA has less in common with humans than coconuts do."

"You mean it's not possible?" Conner felt his eyebrows climb his forehead.

If that was the case then… He'd never taken Lois for that type of woman, but surely Clark would have seen it with his x-ray vision and asked before he left on that mission….

"Not outside of a lab. Well," Lex allowed. "Using my notes, someone competent could probably handle the fusion of sperm and egg, then implant it in someone to grow." He chuckled. "But that would be relying on random chance to get a healthy genotype, much less the ideal biological integration of systems. There'd be no controlling for results or even fetal viability, but still, I suppose it could be done."

Ah. Conner set down his chips, staring at his hands. That actually made it worse.

His stomach curled in on itself, like a cruel parody of that little, unmistakable infrared flicker in Lois's womb that he'd spotted the last time he'd bumped into her at the Kent farm. That precious life growing inside her made Conner want to sink through the ground until he reached the center of the earth to burn up.

He'd felt like such an idiot at the time, berating himself- of course Clark would have children, most people did. Just because he hadn't wanted to be a father to his non-consensual lab-offspring didn't mean he didn't want to be one at all. Conner was his brother now and apparently an ungrateful one: he should be happy for Lois and Clark. It shouldn't feel like he was being torn apart from the inside out; like an achievement he'd been working towards his whole life had been handed to someone else at the last second.

It'd be a lie to say the baby wasn't a big part of why he never once entertained going to Ma and Pa with his illness. Why he didn't even try to surround himself with his few relations. With a little luck (and by opting out of treatment), he'd be dead before the kid was born and he wouldn't have to suffer through their joy and/or feel guilty for casting a shadow over it. Would never have to see some perfectly innocent kid- his half-sibling- soak up all the love Conner had so badly wanted just a piece of.

It had been easier when he'd figured that the pregnancy had come as much of a surprise as most babies do. It had been easier not to resent Clark, if it hadn't necessarily been his choice.

But no, Clark and Lois had very specifically, and presumably at great cost and effort, gone out of their way to start their own little family. One that Conner would only ever be auxiliary to and not a part of; which, considering how unconnected he felt to Ma and Pa, might be overestimating his kinship to begin with. Hell, he wasn't even certain what Clark would want to tell the damn kid about Conner. Maybe instead of "uncle" he'd get downgraded to "cousin" posthumously.

Lex was studying him through narrowed eyes. "I take it that this scenario isn't hypothetical." His expression shifted, grew more considering. Shrewd.

Shit.

"Do nothing with that information," Conner ground out.

"I wasn't going to-"

"Don't bullshit me, Dad. You're the type to put out a hit on a Little League rival, if you thought it would give your own kid a leg up. It takes no imagination to guess what you'd do to any threat to how 'special' I am, so I'm telling you outright, do nothing with this information ."

Lex's face pinched and went back to his drink. "Fine. I'll leave your hypothetical half-sibling unharassed." He shifted on the couch and gave his son a dry look, before adding, "And everyone knows you don't put out a hit on the rival. That's bad form. You bribe the umpire."

It shouldn't have, but it ripped a small chuckle from Conner. He turned it into a cough. "Don't."

"Putting out a hit encourages martyrdom," Lex went on, in that same exasperated voice, as though lecturing him on the importance of a firm handshake or some other lesson he hadn't thought was necessary to specify. Gestured airily with his glass. "Satisfaction is brief. Next thing you know, you're stuck holding candles in a gymnasium-"

Another strangled laugh.

"- while someone puffs up their accomplishments and sticks that little shit's face on everything. Memorials. Posters. Billboards. They get more recognition than if they'd won the stupid ball game. That goes against the whole point of getting rid of them. It's inane."

Conner gave in to the giggling after a moment, leaning back against the squishy sofa cushions and feeling cradled by them. Wolf gave him a careful look, before climbing up to join him.

"None of that proves that your kid is better than theirs- in fact, it protects their reputation from that fact. No one wants to say it in bad taste anymore. No," Lex went on. "You want that little fucker alive, so they can lose in front of everyone." He glanced at Conner, obviously satisfied with the effect he was having. "At least, that's my philosophy these days. Upstaging Superman would be a lot more satisfying than killing him."

"And that's why you're the second largest collector of Kryptonite behind the Justice League?"

Lex pursed his lips. "That's a business decision." He took another drink. "I'm only half joking. That stuff holds its value per ounce like you wouldn't believe. Platinum and gold can eat their hearts out."

That nudged a thought loose. Conner looked down at the near-empty 5-lb bag of trail mix. "Actually, that reminds me: I'm eating a lot. Have been, since I started feeling unwell. Does that count as a symptom?"

"Secondary. I already noted it." Lex stole a small handful of trail mix from the bag, obviously aware that the window the snack would be available through was short. "It's to be expected. Another redundancy of your hybridized biology. With your solar radiation absorption compromised, your body is leaning on human means of deriving energy."

"Eating is just a human thing?" Conner wrinkled his nose. "That can't be right. Clark eats."

"I'm sure he has his reasons. Kryptonians under a red sun probably ate, so it might even be a vestigial instinct hardwired into him. Unless there's factors I haven't accounted for, I don't think he needs to unless his body takes unusually severe damage, at which point, he just needs the proteins to replace whatever tissues can't be repaired." He gave Conner a short glance. "Another fun fact for your afternoon, I suppose. Were you functioning, you could probably go at least a few weeks without food or feeling any ill effects. Not that you'd want to."

"Food is delicious," Conner agreed. He went on another hunting expedition for M&Ms, though their numbers had thinned. He found three. "Though I think I'll keep eating for others' sake too. I lost my rations during field training once and by the end of the day, the Team made it a requirement to bring backups, specifically for me. It's officially called Superboy's Supply. Apparently, even over comms, I'm intolerable when hangry."

Lex's brows knitted sharply, as he settled his thumb and forefinger on his chin. "When was this?"

"I don't know. Before my first or second birthday, for sure."

Lex muttered something and grabbed the tablet he'd left on the opposite side of the couch. Wolf flattened his ears and was pointedly ignored.

"Why? It important?"

"Probably not," Lex said, glancing up from the screen reluctantly at Conner before dropping his gaze back to his puzzle. "It just doesn't add up precisely..."

Conner nodded and grabbed the remote, flicking on the television and thoroughly unsurprised as Lex wandered off, still muttering to himself as though unaware that he still existed in physical reality, much less had been talking to someone. He did that a lot. "What are you in the mood for, Wolf?" he asked the reclining beast. "Nature channel or-? Right. Nature channel it is."

Kaldur narrowed his eyes. "You're joking."

"I am not," Conner told him, giving his friend a pained look. "Twenty million dollars, all in green initiatives- this week. Plus, the bulk of his shadow control over Lexcorp's board. All of it. To. Spite. Superman."

Kaldur considered his lemonade on the scuffed table of burger joint. It was small and vying for a 'classic' vibe that didn't quite conceal it's lack of updates since the late eighties (up to and including those blue and pink neon crayon squiggles on everything) but was uncrowded and heavily air conditioned. "Why?"

"Because the weakening ozone layer leading to the heat death of the planet is also letting in more solar radiation. Global warming is making Superman slightly stronger and Lex can't have that." Conner took an almost morose sip of his orange soda. "He's going to save the planet out of pettiness and no one can stop him."

"Should anyone stop him?"

"I don't know." Conner furrowed his brows. "Probably. He's crazy and his methods are awful, but maybe pointing that obsessive, unethical drive in a productive direction is better than not."

"Methods."

"He's blackmailing, like, eight US senators. LexCorp will make a killing if his bill passes, because somehow he's managed to get back control of some of his shares, but so will anyone starting any new green initiatives. These tax breaks basically make it financially irresponsible for any major company not to participate."

Kaldur took a thoughtful sip of lemonade. "We should find a way to convince him that cleaning up the oceans will hurt Superman."

Conner gave an exasperated sigh. "I'll look into it. Refugees is next on my list, though."

"What's the argument for that?"

"If he saves them, Superman can't look good doing it?"

Kaldur nodded and pressed his cup to his forehead, obviously seeking the condensation against his skin. "That has promise. We'll just have to save the oceans during his midlife crisis."

Conner laughed and crumpled up one of the wrappers in front of him. There were at least six alone on his half of the table, while Kaldur was only halfway through his own meal. Conner glanced consideringly at the counter, debating whether or not he should order more when Kaldur pushed his mostly untouched carton of fries at him. "How are you doing? I know you hate the desert."

"It's not that I hate the desert, it's that the desert hates me," the Atlantean said with only a trace of diplomacy. He set down his drink and tugged aside his tank top to reveal a second, padded one underneath. "Batman's tech. Hydro-cooling, with a bit of shock absorption thrown in. Early model but it's applications are mostly still medical. Not perfect, but better than feeling like walking around in an oven." He sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Beyond that, it is just the lack of humidity that is uncomfortable. Why would land dwellers choose to live somewhere where the air feels like sandpaper?"

"Money. Mining is the only reason the desert states are a thing."

Kaldur shook his head. "Enough about me. How do you feel?"

Conner dropped his head onto his hands, which were resting on the table. "Emotionally or physically?"

That earned him a chuckle. "How about both?"

"Not that hot, honestly. I've had the same headache for two days and I slept for twelve hours last night. I'm sore for no reason. Wolf has to take himself for walks now. My brain feels like it's lagging behind my mouth."

"I am unfamiliar with that expression."

"I keep calling Lex 'Dad'," he clarified, scowling at the table. "Out loud. The whole word."

"And he is ungracious about it?"

"Worse. Pleased." Conner pushed himself upright to take a fortifying sip of soda. "It's almost a reflex now. I'm not sure what to do about it."

"Should you?" Kaldur carefully tilted his drink until a piece of ice made it to the edge. White teeth flashed as he plucked it free and crunched down. "He is your father. It is what many people call their fathers."

"Yeah, but this is Lex. I don't want to give him the satisfaction. He's frustrating enough as it is."

"Things don't have to be good to be important to you. Dads included."

"You sound like him."

"Perhaps. Consider though, what you stand to lose in what is only a small victory on his part." Kaldur propped his cheek on his knuckles. "Relationships are, on some level, about give and take. Has he not given you anything you consider of equal value that you would be willing to call him by a term he likes in return?"

Conner snorted. "Not on purpose, but maybe. I certainly don't waste much energy on worrying if I'm a bad person anymore. Compared to Lex, I'm alright. Hell, I could probably burn down an orphanage and still be okay, overall. He's so much more of a mess than I realized."

"Indeed." Kaldur raised an eyebrow. "He seemed so much more composed whenever we encountered him in the field. Some of your stories are quite surprising, in comparison."

"I think it has to do with the fact that he's been drinking since we got here. And high, but I make a point of not knowing just how much cocaine he does. What's going on with everyone else?" Conner segued, earning himself a wry look from his friend at the unveiled change in subject. "Anything exciting going on?"

"Well, I already told you about Dick and Barbara's… thing. And that Artemis moved in with Will and Jade a few weeks ago." Kaldur gave him a reserved look- Conner knew well that meant he was phrasing what could be bad news. "And Superman is returning from his diplomatic mission early."

Conner stiffened in his seat, fingers frozen in the act of taking fries. "I thought that was supposed to last until August. Did something happen?"

Kaldur shrugged and shook his head. "The account I heard was that negotiations were unexpectedly fast tracked. The wife of one of the invading empire's princes died in a somewhat fortuitous tragedy, opening up the option of a new marriage solidifying the negotiations. Our delegation is only obligated to be guests of honor for the two-week celebrations following, instead of the remaining two and a half months."

Conner chewed on the inside of his cheek. "Do you know if J'onn has said anything to him about me?"

Kaldur held up a hand, though it was with a sympathetic wince. "I am not privy to their private communications, Conner. I cannot say that he will, but since Superman is currently authorized to make emergency medical decisions on your behalf and J'onn once was your guardian… I cannot say that I am confident that he will not get wind of your condition before long."

"I understand that. Promise me you won't say anything about where I am and who I'm with."

"Conner…" Kaldur shifted in his seat. "You realize what position this puts me in. When I accepted the title of Aquaman, I became an official part of the League. Misleading or outright lying to J'onn is one thing, but Superman is the leader."

"I know," Conner said, covering his face with his hands. "And I don't expect you to withstand an actual interrogation. Just… promise me you won't volunteer the information unless directly asked. Try to do that whole discreet, non-answer thing that you do."

"Discrete non-answer thing?" Kaldur asked.

Conner mimicked his friend's perfect posture and held up a placating hand. "These are answers I cannot provide in good confidence at this time," he said, in a smooth, slightly stilted attempt at imitating Atlantean diction. He dropped it at Kaldur's dry look. "Just… hold out as long as you can. Don't ruin your standing with the League. I know I can't keep a lid on this forever, I just…." Conner rubbed a hand across his forehead. "I just don't think I can deal with Lex and Clark at the same time. I would much rather take Lex."

Kaldur inclined his head. "I can promise you that." Another brief hesitation. "If I am pressed for such information, would you like me to try and… prepare Superman for the situation?"

"How? I'm living with his mortal enemy, the one he has specifically devoted hours to warning me about. I don't think it can go over well."

"Perhaps."

Conner sighed. "Trust me. I've been having this conversation with him in my head since I first accepted Lex's offer. Before that, even. There's just… there's no way he's going to let me off easy, even with the terminal illness thing working in my favor. Clark rarely yells or gets angry. No, he gets concerned or hurt by my actions, then starts wielding the word disappointed like he wishes he could club me over the head with it."

His friend's brows knitted. "That sounds…"

"Manipulative? Yeah, it is. Not in a mean way, but it does make me feel guilty for doing things he doesn't like or having feelings he doesn't agree with. Despite being the one who got hurt, I end up apologizing to him." Conner rubbed his face. "M'gann used to do that too, but she learned about it in one of her psyche classes, apologized immediately, and stopped. I tried to call him on it once and got brushed off. Didn't try again, either. What's the point? He isn't trying to be cruel; he just doesn't want to deal with me, but admitting that would make him feel like a bad person."

"Why didn't you say anything before?' Kaldur asked, eyes hard. "To others, I mean."

"M'gann noticed but I asked her not to say anything." Conner shrugged. "Why bother? It was nice of him to let me in his life at all and if it ever got back to him that I'd complained, I figured he'd just cut me off. Accuse me of spreading rumors. Besides, who would believe me? Outside of the Team, I mean. He's Superman. I'm a Cadmus clone. It would look like some sort of attack on his reputation." Taking in his friend's stiff body language, Conner waved a hand. "It doesn't matter, you know. I'll be dead soon and he'll be free of whatever he feels obligated to give me. Everybody wins."

"That is not what I would call it."

"Agree to disagree."