The sky was awash in dim pinpricks of light, twinkling for their steady positions in the cosmos as though winking invitingly at the little spinning blue planet so transfixed with them. A perfectly round desert moon hung heavy and burnt above the silhouette of crumbly mountains. Aspen leaves whispered in the wind while insects chirped, a backdrop of noise interrupted only by a sharp howl. Connor smiled. He couldn't be entirely sure, but he was pretty sure the sound came from the mountain slopes at his back and not the desert floor below.

It was different, seeing the sky this way: Conner's vision used to magnify the constellations significantly without him really being conscious of it. It had certainly made stargazing easier, as he'd never needed to squint and second guess the shapes, though he could never really zero in on any of them well enough to pick out planets from stars. Now, they all looked as precisely as big as they were ever going to get.

It should bother him, being forced to stare at them with merely human eyes, or at least make him sad but Conner found himself strangely delighted and humbled in equal measures. Rather than a pale, looming pock-marked rock that filled his vision, the moon had become a speckled, glowing orb amongst a much larger whole; more interesting for it's imperfections rather than repulsive. It was like the white noise all over again- the overwhelming blanket, the all consuming roar was the beautiful part, while the honing in on details more of a fun challenge rather than the entire experience.

Robbed of his ability to get lost in the needlework, Conner took in the entire tapestry and marveled.

"Does your stupid dog ever shut up?" Lex demanded, shoving open the sliding glass door to the rooftop deck with a snap.

"He's checking in with me. Letting me know where he's gotten to." Conner twisted in his favorite deck chair to watch him shut the door behind him and approach. "And he's not a dog, he's a wolf. It's different. He's smarter than people realize."

"Well, he's going to get himself shot by a hunter if he keeps giving up his position like that." Lex tossed a throw blanket on Conner's lap before reclining in the deck chair beside him. He followed it up with a protein drink and a couple of candy bars. "Don't come crying to me when that happens; I'm not buying you another one."

"You didn't buy me this one," Conner pointed out, setting the food to the side and spreading the blanket over his lap even though he wasn't particularly cold. It was pretty warm out still, even though Lex was wearing a jacket. "And Wolf can look after himself. I talked to our only neighbors last week and explained that he's a hybrid that sneaks out sometimes but won't bother any pets. If they stumble on him, he knows he's supposed to act like a dog to avoid trouble. That's what the collar's for anyway."

"He's supposed to what?"

"You know, wag his tail and make happy sounding barks and stuff." Conner tilted his head. "He's not great at it, but he knows how. And that he's supposed to do it. He mostly does what he wants, but he knows what I want and that's usually the same thing."

Lex gave him a side-eye glance. "I suddenly doubt you've actually managed to train this thing."

"That's what makes him a wolf," Conner countered. "And he's a very good boy."

Lex grumbled something about spoiled schnauzers that Conner couldn't quite make out. Funny how his declining senses made Lex easier to deal with.

They watched the night sky for another few seconds before Lex glanced over at him and made an impatient gesture. "You should eat those."

"Why? You poison them?" As if to belay his words, Conner twisted the top off and took a swallow of the protein drink anyway. He was actually hungry- he'd polished off a bag of pretzels when he'd first gotten up here, but hadn't wanted to get up to get something else. Lex snorted but didn't rise to the bait like Conner had expected. He actually took a better look at him. "Did you find something after you weighed me? I thought I only lost two pounds."

"Of fat you don't have to lose and you did it in less than a month," Lex countered. He took a deep and slow inhale before continuing. "Your body can create and store fat, but from what I can tell, hasn't done so since you've been outside of your pod."

Conner shrugged. "I only ever ate when I was hungry and I had an easy time stopping. That's supposed to be a good thing."

"Yes, but when you were force grown, your body was only given the bare minimum to cushion and insulate your organs. You were never expected to need more than that."

"Oh." Conner swallowed the next sip with a little more difficulty. "So, even when I'm eating all the time now, it's not enough?"

"The weight loss suggests that, yes. Whether your body is failing to use what you are eating or if its needs are too great for food alone is… unclear to me." Lex set his jaw. "As much work as I put into designing you, the fact of the matter is that our research on Kryptonian biology only extends so far and you're a completely new-"

"I understand." Conner stared at the bottle in his hand. When he finally spoke, his voice was neutral. "So, do you think I'll die of starvation before my organs can fail the other way? Or will the loss of cushioning speed up their deterioration?"

Lex hissed through his teeth. "It could go either way."

"Okay."

The desert hush surrounded them again. If Conner focused, he could hear Lex's heartbeat faintly- almost always elevated, made sharp by stress or cocaine or both- then eased off. It was making his headache worse.

"I was going to be a history teacher," Conner said, after another moment had passed. At Lex's soft, perplexed noise, he added, "You asked a few weeks ago why I chose history as my major. I was going to be a teacher. High school or middle school. M'gann and I both were, actually. I dropped out when we broke up."

Lex consulted his hands. "More her idea than yours?"

Conner shrugged. "Kind of. I planned to stick with it since I think I'd actually enjoy the work but I realized it wasn't going to work out. Around then it was also confirmed that my aging wasn't just delayed, it wasn't happening at all. Looking young wouldn't stop me from getting my license or a job, but unless I moved schools every year or so, someone would realize I didn't change; seeing as how background checks in educational roles are getting more stringent, I wouldn't get away with that forever no matter how often I switched states. The Team had more and more missions during that time anyway and I'd already taken off a few semesters to help out, so I dropped out three-quarters of the way through. Seemed like more trouble than it was worth to finish a degree for a job I could work in for less time than it took to get qualified for."

"My question still stands: why history? Why not something science or math?"

Why indeed. Conner gave him a dry look. "I like history fine. Besides, I thought it better to steer away from STEM topics. It was bad enough I had a temper, but I didn't want to invite even more comparisons."

"Comparisons?"

"To you." Conner shrugged again. It wasn't as an upsetting thought as it had once been. Whether maturity or weariness was the culprit remained to be seen. "I get those a lot, on both sides. It's pointless to try and dodge all of people's weird assumptions, but I hadn't figured that out yet when I picked my major."

"Legacy cuts both ways, I'm afraid. Why middle or high school?" Lex quirked an eyebrow. "Wait, I've got it. Little kids are horrid. We both know it. Tell me I'm right."

Conner couldn't help but laugh. "They're fine. Jesus, Dad. No, I'm already used to dealing with those ages. I've done a lot of training for the new members of the Team over the last few years and it was nice, even though I really only did it to pay everyone back for letting me stay for so long. Hell, it was actually pretty easy for me because they all thought I was cool and followed my instructions. Even the rowdy ones were just trying to impress me half the time."

"That sounds annoying."

"It was sometimes, but I didn't mind. They're all good kids. I've never met a kid that wasn't secretly a good kid." He trailed off. A small blossom of sorrow unfurled in his chest.

Lex shifted on his seat. "And so you switched to teaching the Little Leaguers-"

Conner groaned. "Don't make that pun. Everyone makes that pun."

"-instead of basking in the glory of the public school system?" Lex snorted. "Whether you wanted it or not, you dodged a bullet. And I suppose no one on the Sidekick Squad cared about how old you looked, so hand-holding super powered brats was close enough to what you wanted."

Conner looked back at the sky with a sigh. "Actually, I'd been thinking about leaving for awhile. For the last two years though I didn't necessarily realize it."

"The spandex and capes finally get to you?"

Conner's look was drier than the desert around them. "I don't do either of those." He grimaced and rubbed his forehead. "Someone asked me why I turned down the offer to join the League as a full member and it made me realize that not only do I not want to be Superman, I'm not sure I want to be a hero."

Lex gave a surprised huff and clicked his tongue. "Careful there, son. That's considered heresy in some parts."

Conner chuckled. "Oh, shut up, Dad. Don't act like you disapprove. We both know better. And before you ask, no, it's not from some deeply-seeded urge to shave my head and relentlessly monologue-"

"Gloating over a well sprung trap is a right," Lex began, stabbing a finger at him. "It's not my fault people are idiots and require an explanation before I can get to the clever stuff-"

A shadow flickered in Conner's peripheral. He turned, looking back at the sky just in time to see a figure obscure the moon, red cape flowing like the prayers to a vengeful god. With a crack that broke the sound barrier, Conner was snatched from the deck chair and away, face to face with a livid Superman.

"J'onn says he wants to speak with you." Batman approached the tech wing terminal Superman had taken up residence at with a small frown. Even though his presence suggested he was about to be on the receiving end of a gentle interrogation, his steady, predictable heartbeat was a reassuring addition to the soft hum of the Watchtower systems. "I was surprised when he asked me to pass that along, because I thought I told you to go home after your debriefing. Six hours ago."

Superman gave him the warmest smile he could manage, well aware that it didn't quite meet his eyes. He turned back to his screen to try. "And I did. Ma and Pa were thrilled to see me. We had pie and ice cream while they caught me up on the going ons of the farm. They're considering goats. Lois is well, too."

Cowled eyes narrowed. "You've been away for over three months. Go home."

" I did . For a few hours. I just have a lot of work to do," he countered, gesturing vaguely at the screen. It was mostly a sea of uncorrelated windows: the Watchtower regularly compiled publicly (and sometimes, not so publicly) available data on persons of interest and repeat offenders. Nothing had been strung together into a series of ongoing or likely crimes yet, but if anyone was good for it, it would be Lex Luthor. "Don't worry, Flash caught me up. Not just on the last few major events, but also on all the League gossip. It's not like I need to rest as much as the average Leaguer. You know that. Besides, Lex is-"

"Dying of cancer, hiding from his enemies, and barely active in metahuman affairs, from what our inside sources are telling us. He's the definition of unurgent."

"It's Luthor," Superman insisted. "Him going quiet means he's got a project. Probably a bomb or a robot army or something. We should at least look into it."

"We're not short staffed. You're approved for the standard three weeks off. Go home."

Clark turned to him and huffed. "You're one to talk, Bruce. I could probably count the days of leave you've used in the last five years with one hand, and even then, I know you were active in Gotham-"

"Exactly, Clark. This is my thing." Something tired and dry as a good martini entered his friend's voice. "But I'm a mentally unstable orphan who dresses up like a bat and punches criminals in the night. Ignoring my own needs to obsessively pursue criminals is my default. I'd be dead if Alfred were even just a little less ruthless and a hair less tenacious. When you start stealing from my playbook, something's wrong. Why are you avoiding home?"

"Everything's fine at home."

Batman's silence manages to be both unimpressed and skeptical.

Clark rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm just in a weird headspace right now. With the mission ending early and everything. I don't know. Maybe working my usual beats will help. Bring me back down to Earth."

Batman didn't acknowledge the attempt at a joke with anything more than a sigh. Clark's smile twitched away as his friend shoved back the cowl after a short glance at their surroundings. Meeting his eyes was harder than it had any right being. "I would agree that you're not acting like yourself, but I think we both know it's been that way since before you left. Volunteering for a five month mission while Lois is pregnant makes that abundantly clear. Tell me what's going on. Please."

He wanted to, was the thing. He really, very much wanted to.

The words died in his throat. Bruce could handle hearing anything, up to and including confirmation the apocalypse, without so much as a spike in his blood pressure, but that didn't mean Clark could bear saying this out loud. His own personal apocalypse. As much as he treasured Bruce's insight, laced with acerbic barbs and ill-timed criticism as it often was, he'd already had this conversation with him in his head a dozen times over. Bruce had likely already ballparked the problem, just not the magnitude. It was still just Clark's problem, not matter how you sliced it. His responsibility. Why force them both to have the negative experience if it wasn't going to do any good?

Besides, Bruce's feelings on the topic were… strong. Their friendship could survive an alien invasion (several, in fact), but Clark wasn't sure it could survive him screwing up this.

Clark just had to try harder from making this anyone else's problem. Stay the course. Right?

Right.

"I'm sorry," he said instead, before flying off to the zeta terminal in a burst of super speed, chest tight with enough regret to smother a small sun. "I just- can't- I mean- I should look into these rumors. You know. Confirm his base of operations."

With a booming explosion of light, he was soon flying over the dark desert and pointedly not picturing Bruce's face right now. He slowed his pace fractionally- not enough to show up on most satellites, but enough that he'd have some time to collect himself. Suddenly found himself grateful there weren't any closer zeta locations. Perhaps Lex knew all their coordinates and had done it on purpose?

There wasn't much intel on Lex's bolt hole, a small and oft-unused vacation property registered to a subsidiary of LexCorp, but they had gotten enough information to narrow it down as the most likely place he was operating out of. What he was doing was inconsequential (okay, well almost inconsequential) because it was almost certainly something.

If there was nothing obviously amiss, Superman was counting on landing nearby, putting his hands on his hips, and imitating his Ma's best disapproving I-know-what-you-did-mister look. That was usually enough to get Lex gloating (because being smarter than everyone must certainly include explaining how they're wrong) enough to let a hint to his plans slip if he'd also been drinking.

The man was like a malicious toddler sometimes.

Clark covered his face with his hands. He knew he couldn't put off going back to his and Lois' apartment forever, even if Lex really was building a robot army for whatever reason. Eventually, he'd run out of excuses or his homesickness would eclipse his dread. He wouldn't get away with visiting her at work like he had earlier today. Nestled in their apartment, in its full glory, Clark would have to confront the nursery and the toys, confront what the bulge in Lois' stomach meant, and try not to openly flinch. Hurting Lois at a time like this would be inexcusable; would surely take a toll on the baby.

Whatever the cost, he had to try and minimize that even if it meant jumping through hoops for the rest of his life.

The thought made him want to fly directly into the nearest mountain.

Speaking of another hoop to jump through… Clark sighed, glad when the wind whipped the sound away. As much as he didn't revel in anyone else's suffering, he had to admit that he'd been a little glad that Conner and M'gann had broken up again. Not only was he free of her pinched stares at the occasional family get-together (thank Rao), but Conner's resulting back-packing tour (or road trip to find himself or sulk or both) keeping him off the mission roster gave Clark more time to work on his approach.

Drinks seemed appropriate. Yeah, that could work. He'd take Conner out for drinks, like men, to give him the news about the baby. Between his long mission and Conner's travels, the question of why the news came so delayed could be neatly sidestepped. Maybe he'd bring cigars; make a show out of it, like it was a boys night he'd been planning all along because he wanted to tell Conner personally and celebrate. Clark could get through that (for an hour or two). Conner would get some of that one-on-one time with Clark he always wanted and Clark would get the chance to gauge his response and/or emotionally prepare the kid for the new addition to the family.

Like all brothers did, right?

Clark scrubbed his hands across his face. Maybe he should specifically take him to a sports bar. Conner was a lot less prone to angry outbursts these days, but maybe a lot of ambient noise and the presence of loud strangers would discourage whatever temptation there was to make a fuss. At the very least, lots of screens and cheering would give Clark plausible reasons to be too distracted to notice any subtler signs of upset. Give Conner a chance to compose himself instead of staring at him with that kicked-puppy look that made Clark's intestines clench.

A prickle of irritation flitted across his mind, but he carefully tucked it away. Conner was still figuring things out- like all young adults did, he reminded himself- but sometimes it frustrated Clark how long certain things took than others. Like keeping yourself under control so as not to harm or upset others. To be fair, it wasn't Conner's fault for struggling (it wasn't like he had the best start in life, obviously) but Clark occasionally wanted to shake him anyway and snap how do you not understand these things yet when it is so damn obvious to the rest of us .

It wasn't just an important life lesson, it was the most important life lesson- at least for them. Not everyone got a fair shake and Kryptonians under a yellow sun were no exception. Their abilities, in a world like this, meant that they had to shoulder more responsibility, had to absorb as many blows as possible for those around them. An obligation to stoicism. It was just how things were and sometimes Clark was tired of picking up the kid's slack. Carving out a spot for him in Clark's life had already been such a painful experience, it was hard not to resent the clone for not trying harder to meet him halfway now.

Superman took another deep breath and climbed sharply in elevation. Even thinking about Conner seemed to tap his reserves of patience. It always had.

Approaching the mountainside property from the upper atmosphere, Superman was careful to stay out of the range of most sensors. Surveillance was always worth doing and Lex wouldn't let any information slip if he had time to prepare for his arrival. He didn't see any movement, though- no armed men or machines. No staff, either, apart from Mercy sweeping the perimeter. There was a lab, but none of the equipment looked concerning. There were two figures on the rooftop deck, unarmed…

He looked closer. Blinked. Double checked.

No… it couldn't be. Lex couldn't have made a second clone in so short a time. He extended his hearing.

Conner's voice, unmistakable down to his specific acquired speech patterns. Not a new clone then, nor Match. "-not sure I want to be a hero."

Lex, without a doubt. Amused. Clark ground his teeth. "Careful there, son. That's considered heresy in some parts."

Conner chuckled. "Oh, shut up, Dad. Don't act like you disapprove. We both know better. And before you ask, no, it's not from some deeply-seeded urge to shave my head and relentlessly monologue-"

Every muscle in Clark's body tensed, every nerve ending wiring with angry alarm. He wasn't conscious of his decision to dive.