Conner grunted, feeling Clark's fingers dig into his shoulders in two lances of pain that spread across his nerve endings. Did it hurt all humans like this or was Clark not holding back? The wind roared in his ears, flooding him with a prickling sensation across his skin that Conner had only recently identified as cold. "Clark! Put me down! Stop!"

His "brother" ignored him.

"What are you-?" He hissed as the grip on him shifted, clamping him to the other's chest before they suddenly took off horizontally across the desert. Clark must have gripped his shoulders purely to pull him upwards and get his bearings. "Clark! Fuck, put me down!"

Clark said something, but even with his adrenaline, the surrounding noise was too much for Conner's hearing.

"I can't hear you and you're hurting me. Put me down NOW."

The starry sky disappeared abruptly. Conner hung briefly, blinking in confusion at the sudden sensation of free fall. Superman's grift shifted again; they nose-dived straight for the desert floor. Fuck, hurtling downwards (and backwards) was different when he knew the impact could actually kill him-

His feet touched the ground. Conner pried his eyes open (when had he shut them?) to see that Clark had set them on a small hill with a sandy rock outcropping, surrounded only by desert brush and silence. There were no other lights this far from town, but Conner's vision automatically compensated, increasing his headache exponentially.

(Admittedly, the small part of his brain that had irritably noticed that Clark still had at least six inches on him was a contributor. Of all the things.)

He clutched his head and hunched over. "Fuck."

"What? What's hurting you?" Clark's eyes raked across him, hunting for the damage with every kind of vision he had. "You're bruising- is it a new Kryptonite? Are we not out of range yet?"

Conner looked up at him. "What are you doing here?"

"What am I doing here?" Clark demanded, taking a half step back. "What are you doing with Lex Luthor?" He took a sharp, sudden breath and spread his hands in what was probably supposed to be a placating gesture. It came across as more of a stabbing motion. "Just… did you remember anything odd? Trigger words? If he's embedded any new latent commands or if M'gann missed an old one, it'll probably be phrases that stick out of regular conversation."

Superman thought he was being mind controlled. That didn't necessarily mean J'onn hadn't sent him, but if he had, that would mean Kaldur had given up his location, but Conner was confident Kaldur would have insisted on accompanying him. Hell, if the League thought that Conner had been recaptured by Cadmus, they would have come out in force.

Why was Clark alone?

"I'm not being mind controlled." Conner ground out, hearing the rocky desert earth and dried grass crunch beneath his feet. Glanced around- not an artificial light in sight, not even headlights on a highway. They were well and truly out in the middle of nowhere. "What are you- I mean, how did you find me?"

"I wanted to look in on Luthor. He's been too quiet lately. Imagine my surprise finding you with him." Clark set his jaw, crossing his arms. "You look a little calm for anyone being blackmailed. Tell me what in Rao's name is going on. Now."

"So nobody sent you?"

"No one needed to. Explain yourself."

Conner stared at him, lost for words. Clark had just… stumbled across them?

Ah, christ.

Conner groaned and covered his face. He was too tired for this. His head was going to split open. His shoulders were agony. Whatever deity was supposed to be looking out for him must resent his existence too, because Conner's misery seemed to have summoned Clark like Boy Scout Cthulhu. Then again, it wouldn't remotely surprise him if the Luthors of generations past had made a habit of spitting on gypsies. He had to be cursed.

Clark seemed to have spent his entire short silence jumping to conclusions. His voice had likely been intended as kind but came out condescending. "Look, I know getting dumped by M'gann must have been very upsetting, but what on earth could she have said to make Lex seem-"

"That's not what happened!" Great. Conner's voice had raised. Why was he shouting?

Right. Because every part of his body was throbbing in pain and Clark was here.

(And, okay, fine, his team mates might be right, and Conner was just a shouter. He wasn't ripping his shirt off, though, so they were only half-right.)

Superman's tone wasn't far behind. "Then what did happen? Because I don't hear you explaining a damn-"

"She didn't dump me," Conner snapped, before realizing that it was the most petulant, least relevant part of Clark's statement to address first. Oh, well. As much as he knew he should pick his battles, he was suddenly livid and picking all of them. "Do you really think I wound up here in some sort of move to spite M'gann? This has nothing to do with her. You really think I'm that immature?"

Clark hissed sharply through his teeth and clenched his fists at his side. "I know your brain might not be able to physically mature past sixteen-"

" Really, Clark ?"

"What am I supposed to think? You break up, disappear off the face of the planet, and then I find you here being chummy with Lex Luthor? Promising you'll stop being a superhero-"

Conner's outrage spilled out of his throat in a gutteral snarl. " I did not promise -"

Cape snapping sharply in the wind, Clark stabbed a finger at him. "I have told you, not once, but a thousand times not to trust him! You know better than to listen to a single promise he makes. It's like you don't listen. What did he offer you? Money? Power? Did his experiments on you give you those bruises? Or did he play the 'sad old man dying of cancer' card, because as terrible as a condition as it is, it won't stop him from using it to get whatever he wants from you!"

"I'm not here on some sort of bullshit pity tour for Lex!"

"Well, then what are you doing with him?" Clark bellowed. "Why are you hidden out here in his secret house and calling him Dad?"

Conner spread his arms. "Because he is my dad!"

The wind shrieked gently as it wound it's way around the outcropping. The dazzlingly starry sky, which he had been so enamored by not even twenty minutes ago, was now the backdrop to the thundering silence that rent the short distance between them in half.

Conner's second genetic donor's face could have been made of stone. "Do you even understand what it is you're saying? What you've betrayed? I gave you my family ."

"Bullshit."

Conner's back slammed into the outcropping. He gasped and cried out, feeling the sharp stones dig into the recently vulnerable flesh along his spine, Superman's arm slung across his shoulders like a metal bar. "How dare you speak of them as though they don't matter. As though they didn't welcome you with open arms, when all you were-"

"Was your defective clone?" Conner bit out. The arm across his chest loosened, Clark's expression fading into something like disgusted pity. Wow. Something that could curdle his stomach worse than his disappointment. He hadn't thought it was possible. "No, go on. Say it."

Clark moved off of him and let out a harsh exhale. "Conner. We've been through this. I thought you moved past this. Your life matters every bit as much-"

"Of course it does. You respect all life, blah, blah, blah." Conner's voice wasn't mean or cold. He didn't have the energy. It was hushed, like a poisonous secret being extracted from the pit of his soul. He'd kept these thoughts shoved down for so long, releasing them into the night filled him with a bitter sort of relief. "But you don't want me in your family. You pretend you do, and I've pretended too, but we're both not very good at it and I'm too tired to try anymore."

"Kon-El-"

"Don't." Conner grit his teeth, feeling his eyes sting and barely noticing. "The baby made me see it."

Clark's eyes shuttered. "This is about the baby."

"No. This is about the family. Your family. And how I'm not really in it."

"Conner, you're my brother-"

"Sure. Who you never told that you were going to have a kid. I'm your brother who found out because I saw Lois with my infrared vision, on my way to visit your parents. I stopped by. You know, to apologize for risking them by taking the Team to shelter in their barn." His eyes felt hot. Conner knew enough about angry tears not to mistake it for heat vision, no matter what false expectations the G-gnomes had implanted. "They were standing in the driveway, congratulating her and giving her baby clothes. An early shower gift- they'd bring more to the actual party, of course. Guess I missed the happy announcement."

Clark actually shut his eyes, as though Conner had hit him. "I-"

"Don't. I told you, you're not very good at pretending. Never were. You weren't when you avoided me for the first year of my life. You weren't when you wouldn't let me use your name for two years after that. You weren't when you waited as long as possible to introduce me to Ma, Pa, and Lois. You weren't good at pretending when you wouldn't leave me alone in a room with them or got upset when they asked for my phone number so we could communicate directly. You weren't good at pretending like you weren't bothered when Ma asked for photos of me for the family albums." Conner dragged a burning arm across his arms. "And you know what? I tried to pretend too. I was so tired of being alone, of not even having memories of a family to love, that I was willing to go along with whatever half-assed, guilt-ridden effort you wanted to make. I played along. Backed every lie you told. I didn't use your name, I followed your lead. I didn't correct the impression you gave them that I was only recently discovered by the League, even though I was three years old. I didn't say anything when you introduced me as your modified twin. I was careful not to contradict any of your bullshit or text them too much or even visit them without you, all so you wouldn't be unhappy with me-"

"I never asked you not to-"

"You didn't have to ask!" Conner howled. "I knew you didn't want me to! My membership in the Kent family has always been entirely dependent on how you felt about me every week; to be rescinded at your whim. I did everything you wanted me to, let you cram me into whatever box in your head you could safely tolerate my existence in, but it still wasn't enough to be loved even a little bit because you didn't want me in the first place ."

"We got off to a rough start," Clark snapped. "I won't deny it, but I came around. I mentored you, but obviously I didn't teach you enough or you didn't listen-"

"You didn't come around! You ran out of excuses! I obviously wasn't under the Light's control when I helped free the League from exactly that, so if you kept rejecting me, everyone would know it wasn't for a good reason. You let me into your life out of guilt and shame and because Batman made you do it. You forget that I'm the only other person who can hear your heartbeat. I knew how you felt every time I walked into a room. I just kept hoping it would get better." Conner felt himself run out of steam again. "Seeing the baby just forced me to admit the scariest part to myself."

Clark scowled. "That you're not my child?"

"That all that time I spent trying to change myself was wasted." Conner gave him a tight, almost apologetic shrug. "I'm not defective. You are."

"You think this is me?" Clark snarled, gesturing to himself. "This isn't me. You want the truth? It's you. I hate the way I get around you. The way I become. It doesn't happen with anyone else- just you- and I hate it. I hate feeling like this. No matter how hard I try, just being near you is like standing by a mental black hole-" Clark pinched the bridge of his nose, cutting himself off. Took a deep breath while he reigned himself in visibly. "I'm... sorry. That was poorly phrased."

"It was honest, you just didn't like it."

Clark actually bared his teeth. "You know what? Fine. I will take all of the blame. I'm sorry Lex and Cadmus made you without my consent and that you don't have all my powers. I'm sorry that I didn't take it perfectly when you were sprung on me and I'm sorry that it all hurt your feelings. I'm sorry I found a way to make room for you in my life once I realized you weren't some ticking time bomb or a lunatic. I'm sorry my guilt wasn't pure enough for your tastes. I'm sorry me and my family weren't good enough for you."

Conner took in a short, sharp breath. "Stop it. Stop this weird, guilt burden thing you keep trying to do. I won't take it."

"It's not-" Superman pressed his palms together in front of himself as though praying for patience. "Let me try to explain this again. We're special. Our gifts make us unique, so our place in the world is unique. We have responsibilities that others don't have, and those responsibilities are more important that our individual needs-"

"My existence is not my fault," Conner cried. "I didn't ask for this."

"Well, tough cookies, because neither did I!" Clark snapped. His hands stabbed the air. "I don't get to have my life the way I want it either! I don't get most things I want because my responsibilities to the world mean that I can't. I'm sorry, I really am, that you were thrust into this world the way you were and that this is what you get. I don't like it either. Hell, I even wanted to protect you from it when I pushed you away, but if you wear the El crest, then you have to take the responsibility. We live for others. It's just how it is."

"This again?" Conner shrugged listlessly and dragged the back of his hand across his face. It came away bloody. He didn't bother investigating it. "Whatever, Clark. It won't matter for very long anyway."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Clark's face creased, shoulders stiffening. "What are you two planning?"

Of course. Clark would suspect a plot. No, worse: he needed a plot. Anything except having to confront Conner or his own mistakes.

"I'm dying."

"What?"

Conner shook his head, blowing out a breath that made every injury flare. "Ask J'onn about it. He can give you the details. There's nothing that can be done. I'm dying from a bad case of defective Cadmus clone. Lex is trying to cure me because I'm the only kid he'll ever have, but you know what? I don't even think it's going to work. He just needs a project to keep him busy and I don't want to die alone, so I'm just going home and die with my dad."

"Okay, okay," Clark said, sweeping his hands gently in circular motion. His rage evaporated like drops of sweat against the desert floor. "Next time lead with that. Let's just table what we were talking about before. That's- we can get back to that stuff later. We need to get you back to the Watchtower-"

"I've been to the Watchtower. J'onn diagnosed me. Lex confirmed. I stopped taking in solar energy, my cells stopped replicating correctly, and now my organs are failing. I've got maybe a few months, assuming I don't take any new damage." Conner glanced down at his blood and dirt streaked arms. "And I'm not very good at that."

"Shit." It was the first time Conner had ever heard him use that word. He almost laughed. The Boy Scout said something worse than 'damn'. Clark opened and closed his fists as though remembering the way he'd sntached Conner from the deck chair. "I'm so sorry, I didn't realize- I- Let me call J'onn for transport."

"I don't want to go back to the Watchtower. I told you. They can't do anything."

"Then we get a second opinion!" Clark snapped. His hands went to his hips, then dropped. Jerked a belated hand at the dark sky. "Or a third, if we count Lex's."

"Who else could possibly treat me?"

"I don't know. Bruce can hire more scientists or something. Find other experts. We'll pour over the Cadmus notes we subpoenaed-"

Conner glanced towards the direction they'd come. "Lex literally wrote half of those himself-"

"Then I'll talk to Dr. Fate!" Clark visibly reigned himself in, glaring down at the ground. "There is always something we can do. We just have to find it."

Conner stared at him, unsure where Clark's concern was coming from and uncertain if he cared. Scratch that: he definitely didn't have the energy to care. "Okay, Clark. You do that. I want to stay with Lex."

Clark sucked in a deep breath, eyes tight. His voice was carefully and deliberately neutral. "I understand that you are angry with me right now, but you can't stay out here with him."

"Sure I can. I'm an adult and he's my dad."

"You are six years old-"

Conner snorted. "I wasn't when you decided I could live alone with a teenage girl, supervised by an android with only a passing grip on human customs." Sighed, glanced up at the stars. "Look, I know you don't trust him. Honestly, neither do I. I'm not an idiot. Give him enough rope and he'll hang you with it. I'm half expecting him to pull a secret lever one of these days, dropping me into a pit of kryptonite enhanced alligators."

"Then why in Rao's name do you keep insisting I take you back to him?"

Conner shrugged, struggling for words. "He's a narcissistic trainwreck of a person, but he doesn't make me feel like I should apologize for existing."

Clark flinched.

"I get it. I'm the lab equivalent of a rape baby. I always understood that, I just thought you might want me someday, but you don't. You lied to be nice or to look nice, but all that did was make me think something was wrong with me." Conner rubbed his face again. "So just dump me back on Lex's doorstep. I'll be his problem. Our fucked up relationship is weird and complicated, but we don't pretend otherwise. He doesn't have enough shame to bother. I haven't forgotten all the things he's done. He isn't a good person or even a good dad, but I like having one and he's mine."

"That's not good enough!"

"It is for me," Conner snorted. Crossed his arms to ward off the chill of the wind. "Maybe the bar shouldn't be that low, but it is. He wants to be my dad, so I might as well let him."

"Being a father is more than donating genetic material," Clark said, very gently and slowly, almost as though speaking to a wounded animal. Conner didn't miss the way his hand crept towards his communicator, but he didn't try to stop him from initiating the medical emergency channel. "It's so much more than that. It's about care and providing support while teaching a child to be strong. It's about patience and commitment and love. Instilling a sense of right and wrong. Lex can't give you that- in fact, I don't think I can give you that. I don't think I can give anyone that. Pa can, though; that's why I wanted him to be your dad too."

Conner grimaced, leaning back against the outcropping with a wince. "That's stupid thought wrapped in a nice one. Why do you always do that?"

"Conner-"

"That stuff sounds great, but being a father isn't some achievement. It's not even a responsibility. You just have a kid. That's it. Lots don't even do it on purpose."

"When did you get so jaded?" Clark shook his head. "Never mind. It's okay. You're just- it's a tough time for you right now-"

"Shut up, Clark. Stop making excuses."

Clark clenched his fists at his side. "I'm trying to be understanding-"

"No, you're trying to nice your way over the truth to make everything better on the surface. It doesn't work. It never works. Just stop."

"Fine!" Clark spread his hands wide. "What do you want from me? Seriously? Just tell me what you need in order to agree not to go back to Lex and to come get medical treatment at the Watchtower."

"Nothing."

"I don't believe that!" Clark started pacing. "You always want something from me. Always. It's always something I can't- fine. You're my son. Is that what you want to hear?"

"It's true whether or not you say it out loud." Conner shrugged, helplessly. "I really don't want anything from you."

"Why?"

"Because I'm dying, Clark." Great. They were back to shouting. Frankly, Conner was astounded his diaphragm had found the energy for it. "It took dying for me to stop wanting anything from you. It doesn't matter what you can or want to give me, because I don't want you ."

Clark stared at him, unmoving.

"I don't want pity, I don't want guilt, and I don't want you." Conner tipped his head back against the rock. His voice was rough. Thick. "That's why I did what I did. Why I broke up with M'gann, left the Team, and went off into the desert to die alone without so much as a phone call. Figured it would be over before you got back. Hoped it would. I thought dying would be easier this way, but it's not; it's harder, and more painful than I expected and I'm scared and I want my-" his voice broke. Conner covered his face.

"Conner…."

"Just go," he groaned. The distant whine of a League medi-craft rose above the wind. Conner opened his eyes and glanced up. It would land in a few seconds. "I might not see the other side of seven, but I'm old enough to sign the denial of treatment form myself. They can give me a ride back to Lex."

He half expected more arguing. Instead, after a moment had stretched and the mechanical whirring drew closer, there was a flutter of a cape and Conner was alone.

Lex hurled the petri dish at the wall, furious shout clawing out of his chest as he watched it shatter and fall to the tile. Incensed green eyes lasered in on the row of test tubes still on the counter. He backhanded them onto the floor for good measure. As far as displays of temper went, nothing was more tactile-y satisfying than breaking glass. Why mess with a classic?

Nothing. A week of barely sleeping, barely eating- just tests, tests and more tests. Scribbled writing on his whiteboard, his data pad, on his fucking napkins. His tests, as far as he could run them, gave him nothing.

Nothing actionable. Nothing helpful. Nothing he didn't already know.

Upstairs, tucked into his bed he couldn't bear to rise from this morning, his legacy ebbed away.

Conner was dying because his body couldn't begin to cellularly repair itself or replicate undamaged DNA. His body couldn't begin to repair itself because it wasn't taking in any energy. Despite eating enough to put a buffet out of business, Conner's body couldn't keep up with the demand, because his solar energy absorption had all but halted for no apparent reason .

Lex swiveled to glare at his data screen. Nothing had changed, of course. Same readouts. Same dead end, but now he was running out of time.

This was all Superman's fault. Conner had been sparse with the details, but when he'd been snatched from the deck faster than a speeding bullet only to be returned three hours later by a stiff-faced Batman and Martian Manhunter, it hadn't been too hard to put together the gist. Whatever conversation his son had been dreading with Superman had occurred and for whatever reason it had gotten physical. Even if it hadn't been severe, with Conner's health as vulnerable as it was, it hadn't taken much.

His condition had gone downhill pretty rapidly from there.

The Big Blue Bastard really couldn't help himself, could he? It was like a bizarre sort of magnetic force, the way he seemed to draw to Lex's misery and pride in equal measures. His legacy was literally Superman's biological child and he couldn't avoid ruining it for Lex with his good intentions alone.

At this rate, kryptonite cancer or no, Lex was going to outlive his son.

The trek upstairs was made more arduous by the utter silence of the cabin. While those were his usual preferred working conditions (to the point where any personal assistants with even pen-clicking habits were immediately fired), he'd grown accustomed to the noises of this other strange being who shared his space. The static on the TV, the opening and shutting of doors, the chattering directed at the overgrown dog, even. Now the cabin was as silent as a funeral home before the ceremony; trapped in pause like the inhale before a gasp, waiting.

Mercy met him outside of the bedroom door, expression as unchanged as ever. "There has been a new development in subject designated: Conner, Mr. Luthor."

"Report."

"My scans confirm his kidneys have joined his liver in early to mid level failure. Body temperature still unstable. Nausea is persistent and fluids will need to be administered intravenously. Neurological symptoms are suspected, but unable to confirm."

"Why not?"

"Conner responds to all queries with 'not now' and 'go away'. Pet designated: Wolf is now too agitated to allow me within range to perform more than surface scans. Am I still under orders not to use force?"

"That's correct." Lex rubbed his cheek. The last thing he needed to deal with on top of the Brain's damn science mutt was his own damn science mutt's offense about any injuries to the first. If he was even lucid enough. "I'll check his mental status myself, Mercy. There's a mess in my lab. Handle it and then bring me a drink."

"Yes, Mr. Luthor."

The door eased open under his fingertips, revealing a dim bedroom. Despite the large windows lining the opposite edge of the room, no sunlight made it past the tightly drawn curtains nor were any of the lamps illuminated. Lex frowned and flicked the light on, getting one good look at the pale, shivering teenager-sized body half draped atop Wolf and probably taking refuge in his body heat.

"Off…" Conner groaned. "Turn it off."

Wolf gave a warning grumble.

Lex complied with a grimace and strode to the attached bathroom, activating the switch there and ignoring the moans that elicited as he half shut the door. As hoped, it provided enough ambient light for him to get his bearings. "A compromise. My vision isn't as good as yours."

"My vision isn't good at all," Conner countered, half muffled by fur.

"Light sensitivity, I take it." Lex studied him from the side of the bed. Despite the sweaty strands of hair clinging to his forehead, Conner's body shivered where it was already half twisted in the blankets. Dark circles ringed the skin under his eyes, made more prominent by the pallor of the surrounding skin. It shouldn't have been possible for him to lose so much weight in under a week, and yet, here Lex was, counting Conner's ribs underneath an array of purple bruising and wondering if his body had begun cannibalizing muscle tissue yet. "At least you're awake."

"Can't sleep. Not my fault-" Conner broke off and let out a soft whine. Even Wolf looked down at him in surprise at the sound.

"What is it?"

"I think I'm going to throw up again. I don't want to throw up again."

Lex couldn't help his dry chuckle. "Yeah, that's the usual sentiment. How much water have you had since I saw you last?"

Conner didn't answer, just shifted under his blankets, struggling to draw them up. Lex leaned over and helped him pull them around his legs, giving Wolf a sharp glance to match his faint rumble.

Lex settled into the reading chair Mercy had dragged beside the bed, wondering where the hell she was with his drink. "I called a staffing service," he said, absently. "They'll have a small team of nurses here by tonight. I have another contractor bringing in specialized medical equipment for you. Wolf won't fit on the bed-"

A warning growl.

"-but I'll see what we can work out," Lex concluded, with a glance. "In proper Luthor fashion, I expect you to drive off at least three nurses with verbal abuse and demanding behavior by nightfall. Considering your condition, however, I'm willing to grant you a week's extension."

That didn't earn him the snort he thought it would.

"Conner?"

Wolf nudged the dark head with his muzzle, keening softly. Lex felt like a bucket of ice had been poured over his head.

Conner sucked in a breath and groaned. "Sorry. 'id I fall 'sleep? When didya get 'ere?"

Lex's heart sank. As Conner had seemed reasonably coherent when he'd come in, he'd more or less discounted Mercy's neurological concerns as the android's limited understanding of human behavior. "Conner, what day is it?"

He almost thought he wouldn't respond. "Tuesday?" Conner turned to face him for the first time. Lex was jarred by the fever-bright darkness of his eyes, the way he clutched his arms close to his chest. "Kaldur is… lunch. Gotta meet 'im…" he slurred.

"That was nearly two days ago. It's Thursday," Lex said softly. "Don't you remember?"

"Hm?"

Lex reached forward, his fingers skimming over the sweat-soaked bangs clinging to his forehead. The skin beneath them was clammy, fever slick and oddly cold. "You weren't feeling well enough to go into town. You ached all over. You were cold and hungry and tired, but you could get out of bed, so you had him come visit you here. The two of you sat on the front deck, in the sunshine. He brought you coffee from your usual place."

Conner's brows furrowed. "He came here?"

"Only for a few hours. You were too tired to visit longer than that. He'll come again tomorrow."

"M'kay. 'f you say so."

Lex dug his fingers into the rounded arms of the chair, to ease the mad impulse to run to the windows and rip the blinds open. To send sun cascading over as many square inches of Conner's skin as possible, in the hopes that even just a little bit of the radiation would penetrate the cells and fix something. Anything.

It wouldn't do any good. Lex could put Conner beneath an industrial sunlamp and have no luck- the equivalent to surrounding someone without a mouth with food. There was no way to force his cells to use what they were given. If Conner's DNA had failed him- if Lex had failed him- there was no point. All the solar radiation in the world, all the stem cells he could ask for would only delay the inevitable, because unless his hybrid body could suddenly maintain that trajectory, it would be only a temporary victory.

Conner's failure to reliably form memories suggested several things medically, all of which coalesced into one urgent fact: his brain was jumping on the organ failure train. In these early stages, the damage wasn't going to be permanent… probably.

Nothing about Conner's biology was one hundred percent predictable and Lex was already dealing with an accelerated timeline, thanks to He Who Could Not Be Maimed.

Conner needed a cure, and he needed it now.

Perhaps Lex needed to reexamine the viability of putting him in stasis. They'd discussed it before and Conner had given him a flat no despite Lex's many logical arguments in favor of it. Be that as it may, the fact remained that Conner was in no position to do anything about it if Lex decided to anyway, to buy time for himself to come up with a viable plan.

Actually, technically, all Lex had strictly promised was not to flash freeze him. What about a medical coma? With a hint of stasis technology…. Yes, that might work, and technically toe the line of what he'd promised his son. He'd be angry, but he'd be alive. Something similar to his pod at Cadmus would be simple enough to set up, though he could probably lose the G-gnomes, the solar suit, and high efficiency ultra-spectrum sun lamps. They'd be unneeded, even if it was tempting to see if the same method used to cram decades worth of top quality solar exposure into sixteen weeks of incubation could also-

Wait. Lex plucked the tail of that thought before it could escape his grasp. It unfurled sharply, like a segment of rotting fruit falling away from the whole. Oh. It wasn't confirmed- it might not be in every test case… but if hybrid Kryptonian cells did...

Oh, no.