Conner lay in the sterile gray composite hospital bed, stable at last. Behind him, the wall pulsed faintly with his constantly updating vitals, holographically displayed in real time. J'onn had requested this room for him before leaving to respond to the summons, not just for its location in the high security wing, but because it's wide windows currently offered the best view of the spinning blue planet beside them. His former ward had been fairly reserved in the time he'd been accountable for him, but J'onn knew he liked views. Not that Conner was in a state to appreciate it, but J'onn knew whatever rest he could get was at least as valuable.

"Well, time to get to work." Lex grimaced and scratched at his patchy, unkept stubble. "I want a full list of everything you took in the Cadmus raid. Research data, physical copies, specimens. Everything. You have an hour."

The Martian regarded him with calm orange-red eyes. "And precisely what are you hoping to achieve?"

"I told you I have a theory." Lex crossed his arms. "I know you might consider yourself the greater expert in medicine, but I'm an expert in his physiology specifically-" with that, he gestured a sharp, impatient hand at the figure in the hospital bed on the other side of the room. While they'd started this conversation in low tones to prevent their patient any discomfort, Lex's volume was rising. "-so what I say-"

"Will be listened to and carefully considered, as we would the insights of any subject matter expert."

"You can't lock me out of his treatment," Lex snarled with sudden explosive force. Perhaps Conner's temper was an inherited trait? Hm. "I told you, I have a theory. I brought him here- specifically here- to test it. You would be a fool not to let me help."

"I fully intend to and I have no intention of locking you out of any part of this process at this time. I simply need to understand what we are trying to accomplish." J'onn stared at him carefully, probing the anxiety and anger wafting off the human man in waves. "Perhaps this is a point we should establish now: I do not work for you. I am, however, willing to partner with you, as much as my position will permit."

The former CEO's fists clenched. "As a member of the Justice Idiots?"

"As Connor's physician," J'onn corrected firmly, leadening his tone the way humans did when they wished to make their point clear. Or threatening. Or sometimes funny. (It was a very multipurpose verbal technique; J'onn wasn't sure he'd ever fully utilize it.) "I will not subject him to unnecessary or invasive tests. I will not risk his health for the sake of scientific discovery. He is my patient, not your science project. I feel that it is important for you to understand that. Now, if you have a theory, I would like to hear it. In full."

Lex scowled at him. For a moment, J'onn was convinced the man would attempt to strike him. Instead, he set his jaw. "Do you have a whiteboard?"

J'onn stepped to the side and pressed his hand on a small scanner beside the lightswitch. The wall by the door flickered once before the pale paneling revealed the screen of a digital workboard. In a few taps, it had changed from the medical notes system and into a generic drawing screen. He plucked a small stylus from a tray inset in the wall and offered it. "By all means. Enlighten me."

Lex scowled as the door retracted and Batman and Superman strode in. He took the interruption as a chance to twist off the cap of a water bottle he'd been provided with and had been busy studiously ignoring. Still, he knew he should hydrate.

His afternoon was only going to get more grating from here.

The Big Blue Ubermensch took a step toward Conner's bed and halted. Swallowed.

Below the bed, Wolf stared at him with unblinking eyes. He had retreated there after the influx of med-techs and other personnel had failed to abate. No growls, as of yet, but Conner's anxious guard-pet was careful to rock off his heels and out of shadow every time someone new approached. A quiet, pointed warning.

"He is as stable now as we can get him," Martian Manhunter said from his seat in front of the board. Posture perfect, his hands rested gently on his knees. "His temperature has proven tricky to regulate and his heart is somewhat arrhythmic, but with the introduction of fluids and oxygen, his body seems to be struggling less under the load. Lex is explaining the theory that led him to seek our assistance."

"I just got through the setup," Lex snapped, setting down the water bottle with a snap and flicking an irritated look at the two newcomers. He'd already scrawled across the majority of the board like a madman, in an effort to catch the Martian up on the tests he'd run and the basic information he was working off of. It wasn't nearly as exhaustive as Lex would prefer to be, but they had to start somewhere and Lex's last coke bump had been before the shuttle had touched down at the cabin. "I'm not repeating myself for them ."

The Martian held up a hand. "If they require any of that information, I will provide it to them myself. Please continue."

Lex resumed his scribbling on the board. "It's easy to point to the biggest culprit behind Conner's condition-"

"You," he heard Superman mutter.

Lex whipped around to glare, but Superman was as blank faced as ever. Batman stood a little closer to him than he had been a moment ago. Was he pinching him? It was hard to tell with their capes. Lex went back to his board. "-his cells reduced solar radiation uptake. It's the biggest contributing factor. It's easily the cause of his other symptoms. The big question is why his cells stopped processing it. With your limited understanding of his creation and biology, you erroneously assumed it was a hybridization failure of his DNA-"

"Because god forbid you be accused of making an unhealthy clone." Okay, that had definitely been Batman that time.

Lex glowered at both of them. This is why he'd never even considered lecturing, even for the sake of a credentials boost. Dealing with idiots was asking too much of him. "Hybrid. He's a hybrid, not a clone. His DNA isn't some copy-paste situation, so stop slandering my work and use the proper terminology." He turned back to his board. "As I was saying, while our green friend here was busy blaming Conner's painstakingly crafted DNA for the problem, I approached it from the other side: what had Conner encountered outside of Cadmus that could have caused the failures."

Manhunter leaned forward. "And you found something in his time with us? Some issue we caused?"

Lex sniffed and pointed accusingly with the stylus. "Not exactly, but it wasn't his DNA. I made that perfect. Let that be known."

"For the love of Rao, Lex, get to the point-"

"Conner was incubated wearing a radiation amplifying solar suit to increase his uptake of the specially designed high intensity sun lamps." Lex glanced at the two non-medically trained heroes and sighed. "Essentially, we crammed decades worth of sunlight through his skin in the space of about twelve weeks."

Martian Manhunter tapped a finger against his bottom lip. "He was in excellent health when we first recovered him."

"No, he appeared to be," Lex countered, sketching the chalk outline of a human body. "Due to completely unavoidable gaps in our knowledge, there was no way to spot the error. In fact, he could have lived his whole life without noticing anything beyond his inability to age."

"They were caused by the same thing?"

"Possibly." Lex waved aside the question. "The mechanism I suspect is some sort of Kryptonian cellular inertia brought on by a specific artificial frequency of light. The cells greedily gobble it up, thinking they can break this down into energy, but cannot neither use it nor release it and so they… stop. Become inert. They aren't broken or dead, per se, so the body does not register them as needing repair or replacement. Merely non-functional. Dormant. Oversaturated with useless light."

The Martian furrowed his brows- or whatever part of his face that counted as brows. "How was Conner exposed to such a specific form of light radiation?"

Lex scowled at his board, absently noting a few more equations. "I can't be certain without more of the material on hand, but I think it was some sort of reaction between his solar suit and the specialty sunlamps. Donovan experimented with non-yellow sources at one point and the results were promising, so we integrated a few into the light output. We should have studied it in conjunction with the suit, but the project was behind and-" Lex took the stylus and drew lines around his human shaped outline's neck and across his wrists. "It doesn't matter why, because then we shoved the absolute fucking maximum amount into three quarters of his surface skin before he even opened his eyes."

"What spectrum and frequency of light was this?" Batman demanded. He folded his arms when everyone looked at him. "Asking for a friend."

Lex grimaced. While it would be the perfect nugget of information to take out Superman down the road, he knew there was no way he was getting off the Watchtower until the League had verified his theory and come up with a manner of protecting their biggest asset from it's effects.

The discovery of a lifetime- how to possibly kill Superman , god damn it- and he was tossing it away for his stupid legacy.

"You better live, you little brat," he told the unconscious figure in the bed before he turned back to the Bat. "I'll give you the info while we're running the next series of tests. It's not one found in nature, so far as we know. Where was I?"

"Potential non-viable solar radiation and your theorized saturation effects," the Martian provided.

"Right." Lex tapped the figure on the board a second time. "I believe that he left Cadmus with whatever skin cells the solar suit directly touched already saturated. At least several layers of his skin. The surrounding areas- his face, his hands, his neck- were undamaged and could support his body's needs. Solar energy is an extremely efficient power source and Conner could supplement the difference in expenditure with food. Unless he was using his powers at their max every day, his body could keep up with demand." Lex gave them a pointed look. "Just the way I so thoughtfully designed his integrated biological systems to do."

"You also overloaded his solar cells. Don't build your tower too high," Batman said.

He couldn't help but bristle. "That was a laboratory oversight. His genome is flawless."

Martian Manhunter rose to get a better look at some of the equations Lex had peppered the corner with. "I do not understand. If his body was keeping up with its energy needs despite it's handicap, why did his DNA begin to break down at all?"

Lex took a long swig from his flask. It ran empty abruptly.

"What did you do, Lex?" Superman narrowed his eyes.

"He did it to himself," Lex shot back, tossing away the empty metal. It clanged against the floor somewhere- he didn't glance back to check. Conceded the point with a tilt of his head. "With my help. The balance between his human and Kryptonian cellular functions is… delicate. Not entirely understood, even by me. In my defense, if he'd been absorbing solar radiation at the predicted levels, it would not have been a problem." He jabbed a finger at them. "Don't forget that. I was working with the data I had."

"What. Did. You. Do?"

"I gave him those shield patches," Lex said. "To suppress his human DNA in favor of his Kryptonian." His lips twisted as he looked away. "The main ingredient of which was trace- honestly, miniscule - amounts of fast acting synthetic red kryptonite."

"You son of a bitch," Superman snapped, rounding on him. Lex was confident that the red glow growing like an ember in the depths of his eyes wasn't imaginary. "You loaded him up with kryptonite like some kind of bullfighter on steroids-"

Lex bared his teeth as he found his arm in a vice grip. "He should have been fine! If your stupid cells didn't freeze like a deer on the highway because we switched lightbulbs, he would have been completely fine! I triple checked my math!"

"Stand down." Batman shoved his way between them. A cowled glare was all it took for Superman to release his arm with a snap, though a second later it shifted back to Lex. "There's a problem with your theory. He used those shield patches when he was less than a year old. None of his symptoms began until he was six. How do you account for the five year gap?"

Lex took in a slow inhale. Waved a helpless hand. "Because neither of those events were severe in and of themselves: they just started a chain reaction. I doubt the patches interfered with his stunted ability to absorb radiation, but rather, ravaged the existing solar stores which were barely adequate for his limited powers in the first place. Unlocking his suppressed abilities burned through those reserves and any new sunlight he took in. Heat vision especially is a massive energy drain. Also, the suppression of his human DNA also would have slowed his metabolism to a crawl, so what little help his food energy could offer wouldn't have been available. There was no energy left for repairing damaged cells- it all had to go towards feeding his powers."

"Powers he only had for a week or so at most. If it damaged him so badly, we would have noticed then."

"I told you, it wasn't the severity of the injury- it merely got the ball rolling." Lex shifted on his feet, running the numbers through his head for the fourth time. It was inescapable and he didn't like it, but at least it was conclusive. Concrete. Understandable. "If he'd only used one or two patches, his body could have bounced back entirely, but with every subsequent patch in so short a timeframe, he overtaxed his starving, wounded bio cellular matrix again and again… until it gave up on repairing itself one hundred percent. Again, the impairment would have been minor- unnoticeable even had you scanned him that very day - but it spelled the beginning of the end. The overall deficit became permanent, growing just a tiny bit each day under even his body's regular functioning."

Martian Manhunter looked over at the figure on the bed. "A cycle of slow building cellular damage."

Lex nodded. "More like compounding, with interest. His body began healing his matrix, but since his matrix could barely break down enough sunlight into energy under normal conditions, it couldn't hope to keep up with the added strain on top of its injury. There simply wasn't enough energy to heal everything after maintaining the rest of his body's healthy cells and providing for his normal powers. Organs don't take IOU's: after enough neglect, damaged tissue becomes dead tissue. The organs that were supposed to be helping his body recover were the ones most injured- and they didn't have what they needed to restore themselves back to one hundred percent. And again, let me stress this- one hundred percent had barely been adequate in the first place. There had already been no room for error. His body was now stuck fighting a battle it could never win."

"So his work in covert ops is probably what slowed it down," Batman mused aloud. "Kept him from using his powers in large quantities or taking damage in daily fights."

"That and attending school," Martian Manhunter added. "As he went back to part time."

"He probably transitioned to mainly burning food and body fat for energy around the time of the near-invasion," Lex went on, crunching the equations with a squint at his work. "Assuming my math is right. I don't know every fight he was in, but I assume the stress on his body was more than normal around that time. A human energy supply could have kept his organs functioning, but not much else."

Orange red eyes narrowed in thought, a green hand rising to prop against a matching chin. "Yet I still do not understand his sudden downturn. While the cause of this situation is new to me, when we ran our tests initially, his rate of cellular failure was consistent. Predictable. He still should have not reached this stage so quickly. Not for another few months."

Superman flinched and shifted on his feet, fidgeting with his hands. "That's on me. When I went to retrieve him from Lex's place, I wasn't exactly gentle because I didn't realize he wasn't invulnerable anymore."

Internally, Lex groaned. As much as he wanted to enjoy the guilt and pain etched on the Kansas-flavored Lovecraftian Horror beside him, it was medically relevant to add context. A tragic necessity. "There was an additional complication previous to that."

" What did you do, Lex ?"

"Nothing," he admitted. "Conner was sick of being sick and he didn't want to wait to die. Didn't want to be a burden. From what I can gather, he swallowed lead-foil wrapped kryptonite in an attempt to end it." Lex gave a philosophical shrug at the harsh, shocked silence. "He vomited it up, passed out, and was taken to a hospital. That's how I found him. The kryptonite, no doubt, caused even more internal damage before it could be expelled and that's why his illness accelerated drastically." He paused. "And also, Superman manhandled a sick kid. Let's not forg-"

"You should have said he was suicidal immediately," Batman snapped. "If that is the case, he cannot be entrusted with his own medical decisions. I should have never let him off of that damned shuttle-"

"I have to agree," Martian Manhunter intoned.

"He isn't suicidal," Lex snapped. "He just didn't have any other options. When it didn't work, he gave up. Why in god's name do you think he went along with me? He might not have trusted me, but he still wanted to live if there was even a sliver of a chance."

"Then let's focus on your theory," Batman snapped, pinching the bridge of his nose. "How do we test it?"

"We have already run enough scans to know that his organs are failing, though most are in different stages," Martian Manhunter provided. "But if we wished to confirm the solar suit theory, targeted sunlight exposure to different portions of his skin would be inconclusive as his bio-cellular matrix cannot break it down anyway. We will want to investigate this light exposure and saturation theory for our own needs, but I do not know that such experiments will be of any use to Conner."

"As for my delicate balance theory," Lex added, considering his even, if somewhat stress-slanted handwriting. "There's not really a way to test for that, seeing as he used the shields about five years ago. It was one brief event that knocked him off course. There won't be anything conclusive left to measure."

"So there's no way to know if listening to you ramble on about how this is but isn't your fault for the better part of a half hour was just a waste of time?"

Lex raised his chin. "On the contrary. It gives you an explanation that isn't malfunctioning DNA-"

Superman, who had drifted over to Conner's bedside and had been blessedly silent for the last minute, turned to bare his teeth. "So you did what? All of this work, all of this dragging on in the name of clearing yours? Look at him, Lex- he is dying . What is wrong with you?"

"Don't be an imbecile." Lex smacked the board with his stylus. "This proves that his condition isn't one we already know is hopeless to fight. Or at least that we have nothing to lose if I'm wrong. Maybe he still won't make it, but at least we know it isn't pointless to try. That there's a chance he can get better."

"What do you have in mind?" Martian Manhunter asked blandly, removing a tablet from a slot in the wall. He began flicking through screens. Scans of Conner's body threw themselves over Lex's digital scribbles in real time. "Had I known this theory when he came to me with his symptoms, I would have said his body was barely capable of recovering then. Now… I am uncertain of what we can do. Our nanotechnology is not extensive enough to handle the extent of the repair work, especially considering that we do not understand entirely how his biological systems are supposed to interact with each other when healthy…."

"Well," Lex said, coming to stand near Conner's bed. "It's fortunate for my son that I am dying of cancer, because in the last three years, I have become essentially an expert in stem cell theory. We'll let his own body decide what cells it needs." He looked up at the Martian. "The confiscated items from Cadmus. Do you know what happened to his umbilical cord?"

"I was unaware he had one."

"Unbelievable," Lex muttered. " He has a naval - you know what, nevermind. We'll use donor cells."

Martian Manhunter's sort-of-brows furrowed at his screen. "That could be an issue. Compatibility will be difficult to determine and his body is in no state to flush out unsuitable cells without overtaxing his barely functioning immune system. While family members make the best candidates, my scans of you-"

"Glad to see you are responsibly using your alien tech to violate my privacy."

"-indicate that your chemotherapy treatment is ongoing. Your stem cells are in no state for anyone, including yourself."

Lex shrugged and gave the Martian an exasperated scowl. Perhaps he had overestimated the alien's intelligence. "I have several semi-recent batches of stem cells in storage, but given that I literally have kryptonite cancer, I do pause at the idea of giving them to my half kryptonian child. I genuinely have no idea what they would do to him. Fortunately, he has two parents because he's a hybrid and not a clone. "

Everyone turned to Superman.

"I'll do it," he said without hesitation. "Whatever it takes."

"It'll be painful," Lex told him, with no small amount of glee. Thank god something could still raise his spirits.

"That's fine."

"Kryptonian cells have a documented toxic effect within the human body," Martian Manhunter began.

Lex flapped a hand at him. "I told you, I designed him perfect. Look in the research notes I brought. Biological Integrations, Volume Two, Page 408, I think. We injected him with Match's blood in an early power enhancement experiment. It didn't change him the way we'd hoped, but it didn't hurt him either. No noticeable rejection."

"That might work," Martian Manhunter agreed. "But will they be able to repair his more human systems as well? Superman's DNA does not have the blueprints, so to speak, for Conner's entire genome. Nor does yours."

"No one's DNA does," Lex pointed out. "We'll just have to do alternating treatments. Give him Kryptonian stem cells to hopefully kickstart bio cellular matrix, then follow up with human donor cells. I'll make some calls. His aunt's are both compatible and unexposed to kryptonite radiation."

"Setting aside the stem cell therapy," Batman said. "Let's return to this solar saturation problem."

Lex sighed. "As delightful as the idea of finding out what it would do to Krypton's last son, I'm afraid I cannot bear to limit my offspring to twenty five percent of his total power capacity; and because I suspect it might be related to his aging issues, which I've gotten an overwhelming amount of backsass lately about Peter Panning him; therefore, as much as I would love to leave you out of the loop and shaking in your lycra, I'm afraid we're just going to have to figure out how to reverse it together." He waved a vague hand at the hospital bed, glancing at Superman. "I'm a man of responsibility now. Don't worry, dear. We'll always have our years of shared animosity-"

"I take it you have some ideas," Batman interrupted.

"Naturally." Lex smirked and rubbed his hands together. "Let's talk about synthetic kryptonite…."

Conner groaned as his foggy brain registered the soft beeping sounds emanating around him. Twisted strands of tubing ran up and down his arms, while air pushed steadily down his nose and throat. Great. Another hospital. This was just like his stupid kryptonite poisoning all over again. Whose flannel shirt would he have to steal this time?

At least he didn't have to vomit. It could be worse.

Oh, god. Why did everything have to still hurt?

"Conner? Hold on, I think he's waking up," someone said. "Conner?"

Conner pried his eyes open, then snapped them shut. That had been a mistake. He waited until the room had stopped spinning before trying again. Nope. Still a terrible idea. "Kaldur?"

"And Dick," a second voice said. "Hey, man. We just got here. I was thinking of chewing you out for not saying something about being sick before now, but you look like you're feeling the aster less than I am. By a lot."

That dragged a chuckle out of him. "Thanks, buddy. I needed that."

There was a soft smacking sound, like an elbow to the ribs.

"What I think our friend means to say is that we're both happy to see you awake," Kaldur said. "Are you feeling up to more visitors?"

"Oh, god…" Conner moaned. His voice was reedy and thin. "Everyone's coming, aren't they?"

"Of course they are," Dick said, cutting Kaldur off. "And let me tell you, you better pull through quick because now they're scared and pissed. M'gann and Gar are on their way back from Mars, Artemis and Will are hunting for a sitter as we speak, and I'm not pointing fingers, but someone told Black Canary. Apparently she punched her target in the face so hard he's going to be eating through a straw for the next month before she stormed off in the middle of said mission and commandeered Sphere. I think Batman called Green Arrow to run interference before she gets here but-"

"The point is," Kaldur said firmly. "Is that everyone is very eager to see you as soon as they possibly can."

"Tha's silly of them," Conner muttered, feeling a wave of exhaustion creep over him. Yawned. How could he be tired still? And feel like complete garbage? He'd been asleep for hours, probably, but that didn't stop a second yawn. "'m not goin' anywhere. Plenty of time."

"About that," Lex said. Conner peeked through his eyelids long enough to see him and J'onn standing in the doorway of his room.

"Perhaps it would be best if you two were to wait outside-" J'onn began.

"He means leave now. Go. Vacate. Anywhere but here," Lex said, stalking past them to throw himself into the chair recently vacated by Dick. Conner heard him snap his fingers. "What good are you as a guard-wolf if you don't run off well-wishers?"

There was an apathetic woof from below his bed. Conner dangled his hand down and got a nuzzle in reply.

"I am afraid we do need to discuss Conner's medical condition with him. Private information. It should not take very long," J'onn assured them. There was a minute of rustling as Dick and Kaldur gathered their coats, and after a few quiet promises to be back soon, left the room.

Conner turned to Lex. "I take it I've gotten much worse if we're here."

"How much do you remember?"

"Not a lot. Just talking to you a little after I got here, I think." Shit. Conner flushed. Had he really been crying or was he just imagining it? He cleared his throat. "You said something about a theory."

"That's right. It's our leading theory at the moment for your condition." Lex dragged a hand across his face. It made the crepe like wrinkles under his eyes more prominent. "I'll give you a longer explanation later, if you want it, but the abbreviated version is that while I made your DNA utterly and completely without flaw, there were some errors in the lab at Cadmus. Donovan-"

"The solar suit you wore during incubation, when combined with experimental types of light, produced a new form of radiation that crippled your ability to take in solar energy and possibly stunted your growth," J'onn explained. The Martian was as inscrutable as ever, yet Conner knew as instinctively as he understood Wolf that his former guardian had had enough of Lex's bullshit to last a lifetime. "You appeared healthy but you were operating at a stunted capacity. The additional strain imposed by the synthetic red kryptonite contained in the shield patches Lex gave you, sent your body into a slow-moving spiral of internal damage that went mostly unnoticed for the following five years, following which, your brief ingestion of kryptonite accelerated the problem in previously unaffected organs."

Lex gave the alien a look flat enough to rival a ruler before turning back to Conner. "Some generalizations, but that's the gist of it. The important part is that I didn't make you wrong."

Martian Manhunter nodded solemnly. "Indeed, you did not. One might infer that Conner's creation was not inherently flawed, but your attempts to alter or control what he would be after the fact were in error. There might even be a lesson in that."

"I'd always thought you'd fallen in with the Moral Patrol on accident, but I see it now. Preachy bastards, every one of you." Lex turned back to Conner. "How do you feel?"

Conner raised an eyebrow. It took some effort. "About as bad as I did when Mercy came to check on me, though I'm not as cold anymore."

Lex canted his head, accepting the answer at face value. "So about as bad as you were yesterday morning. Not a vast improvement, but a promising one."

"So…" Conner said, struggling to keep his eyes open. "Is there anything that can be done? If it's not a hybridization failure, I mean."

"We have already begun to treat you with stem cell injections," J'onn informed him. "Though the first round was technically a failure."

"This minor improvement is promising, however." Lex crossed his legs and leaned back. He was still dressed in the same outfit as before, but that wasn't a good measurement of time. Conner knew for a fact he hadn't bothered changing or shaving in days. Someone should probably force him to soon. "It suggests that adding healthy stem cells helps because your body is still able to use them."

Conner shut his eyes, too tired to hold them open, but gave Lex a weak smile. "Stems cells, huh. Found my mythical umbilical cord?"

"Mythical? Of all the- You had one, for the love of god , why is that so hard for you people to believe-"

"Superman donated his own stem cells for the procedure," J'onn intoned. "He wanted to be here when you awoke, but when our scans showed only minor uptake and the treatment deemed a failure, he went back into his solar bed to generate more for our next attempt."

"He's just sulking because he had a kryptonite needle shoved through his spine. For someone who can throw skyscrapers around, he's surprisingly squeamish around needles," Lex clarified with no small amount of satisfaction. "Anyway, we think we've narrowed down the issue: with so many of your organs involved at once, your body can't adequately disperse the new stem cells and when they do make it to their destinations, they are having trouble getting past the dead or heavily damaged tissues."

"So what now?"

"Nanobots," J'onn said. "Small enough to cross through and deliver the fresh stem cells to the most healthy parts of your organs. However, there is a catch: we do not have enough of the proper caliber to clear away the dead tissues. I am afraid that for your unique physiology, that would require them to both be armed with lead shielding, a retractable kryptonite set of scalpels, and still have storage room to ferry the excess tissues out for disposal. With our current technology, it is just not possible at the sizes needed." J'onn took a small pause. "You will have to have more traditional surgery instead."

"Surgery?" Conner forced open his eyes at that. "I've never… I mean, I can't…"

"I would be remiss not to warn you of the risk," the Martian added. "The procedure will require the use of kryptonite in various quantities. Sick as you are, regular scalpels can not be counted upon to cut cleanly through your deep tissue, but even trace amounts of kryptonite radiation pose a significant threat to you. Dr. Palmer is already on his way to assist in our efforts with the nanobots internally, but with your body's difficulty maintaining its basic functions now…"

"There's a chance you could die on the operating table," Lex finished. "A decent chance, I'd say."

Conner swallowed. "What are my odds?"

"Those are impossible to calculate," J'onn said. "I have never encountered this specific set of circumstances and there are far too many unknowns."

"Ballpark it," Conner grit out.

"Significant," Lex sighed. He sounded about as tired as Conner felt. "He's not being evasive with your chances. It could go either way."

Conner clenched his fists in the sheets of his bed, feeling his skin pull around his IV lines. "And if we skip the surgery and stick to stem cell injections?"

There was a hushed, cautious silence.

"It could take years to get you back up to where you once were, assuming it continues to work," Lex told him. "We have no guarantees the stem cells will reach every organ in time to prevent more failures. The damage will not necessarily stop spreading just because partial functionality is restored. You might die slowly or get better slowly. Remember when you said you didn't want to come here for treatment that would just extend your suffering for a few more weeks? This would be closer to that option."

Conner licked his lips. "And the surgery won't result in that anyway?"

"It's possible, but I doubt it. We won't be using plain green kryptonite for the most part, so the odds of lasting damage to the surrounding tissues is controllable. If the surgery is going to kill you, it will be on the operating table. It might fail to entirely resolve the problem, but I anticipate you'll improve at least enough to give us more options."

Frankly, both options sounded horrid, but only one of them felt like dropping into a pit of alligators to be slowly torn apart. Conner liked fast and definitive; call it his impatient nature, but there was a reason he'd been willing to choke down kryptonite in the first place. "What do you think I should do, Dad?"

Lex took a sharp exhale of breath. "Take the surgery. Perhaps it's the coke withdrawal, the lack of a decent drink in this floating convent, or my own impatient nature, but all things considered it's the only option with the possibility of you walking out of this place within a fortnight."

Conner expelled an almost amused puff of air from his nose (which was tricky, given the tubes attached). His thoughts exactly. "Fine. Surgery it is. When?"

"Tonight or tomorrow morning." J'onn said. "Your situation is unlikely to improve rather than get worse on it's own, so sooner is better than later." His tablet let out a soft chime. "It appears Dr. Palmer has made good time. We will brief him and begin prepping."

"I don't like this," Ray Palmer said, staring through the surgery theatre glass at the room being prepared within. Tall silver UV lamps had been positioned like spotlights, intensity set to low to prevent surgical cuts from healing too soon (though including them at all bordered on wishful thinking). Trays stacked with scalpels and syringes and probes, all with an eerie black-green tinge.

Beside him, Superman grunted. Arms crossed and body tense, he seemed like a man already besieged by disaster, though perhaps it was just his body trying to recover from his doubled donation of cells. Even his forehead curl seemed robbed of its energy. "Join the club."

"It's not just Luthor." Dr. Palmer glanced up from his tablet screen to glance about. "And where did he get to? I could have sworn he was just here, threatening us with lawsuits if he couldn't supervise-"

Martian Manhunter gestured to the deck below them, towards the guest quarters. His typical uniform had already been replaced by surgical scrubs, though had yet to go through decontamination as he was there to assist Dr. Cross only if needed. (It would be an unnecessary but policy-compliant gesture as he preferred to operate telekinetically.) "I believe Batman is forcing him to shower and is locating a change of clothes."

"I'm glad someone managed it," Superman muttered.

"His main tactic is to alternate threats with promises of whiskey. It seems to be an effective motivator."

Dr. Palmer swiped an impatient hand across his screen with a scowl, trying to force as many Cadmus diagrams into his head as possible. Normally, he'd defer to an xenobiological expert, but even though his half-hour cram session barely scratched the surface, it technically put him in the group of fifteen or so people with any knowledge in this kid's unique physiology at all. He was an expert- and would be a leading one by the time he got out of surgery.

It was insane. He wasn't even a doctor of medicine, much less a surgeon . "It's just… so much of this is hypothetical. We don't even know if the anesthesia will work, if the scalpels won't kill him, if the treatment won't make things worse much less fail-" He took a deep breath. "It's just a lot of unknowns. I know we don't really have a choice, but it's just a lot to factor in if something goes wrong during the procedure."

Superman put a hand on his shoulder. "Just do whatever you can, Ray. Take it one step at a time. Sometimes that's all we can do."

Unsure which one of them Supes was trying to comfort, Dr. Palmer gave him a tight smile and a nod. "I will. Alright, I think I have the basics. If Dr. Cross is still ready to go, tell the nurses to administer the first dose of anesthesia."