Fic: The Morning After(Noon) (complete)
Title: The Morning After(Noon)
Author: josephina_x
Fandom: Smallville
Pairing/Characters: Clark/Lex, Conner (Superboy), and some others... ^_^;;
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: post-series (futurefic), takes place before the "seven-years later"
Word count: 8300+
Summary: Conner and Lex get schooled a bit by Clark-nee-Superman. Things go downhill when Conner's friends finally show up to 'rescue' him.
Warnings: General for entire series. Unbeta'd. Rating for language.
Disclaimer: Not mine, not-for-profit.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Conner yawned and stretched casually in his bed, then relaxed and stared at the ceiling for awhile.
He heard noises downstairs, and it took him a bit to realize that he was currently (still) sharing space with Lex Luthor, and like each successive morning that he'd spent the night in the farmhouse, it took him a little longer to remember that fact, and he felt a little more relaxed about it, in that he didn't feel nearly as much of the massive adrenaline spike (or whatever mutant alien-hybrid equivalent he had of it) and a flight-over-fight response. It was like... Luthor-inoculation-by-overexposure, or something.
At this rate, he'd be so jaded by the end of the Christmas season that he'd probably be able to be in the same room as Luthor and not be totally hyper-aware of that fact at all times, maybe even forget it for a couple seconds or so if Luthor was being quiet and sort-of unobtrusive. Like not trying to cut him with a Kryptonite scalpel or blow him up or something otherwise evil and bad and just plain wrong. Not that Luthor ever did anything plain, except maybe toast, and wow he was getting into weird territory because now he knew things like that: his villainous pseudo-dad liked plain toast. No butter, no jam, no nothing. Just toast. Really crispy toast and... yeah, now he was getting hungry. Time for food.
Conner stretched again and sat up in bed, scratched his stomach a little, and then got up and rummaged through the closet. Luthor had been kind of mean about wanting him "dressed properly" and had pretty much forced a bunch of rich-kid fancy dress clothes on him. Conner had only managed to talk him into three pairs of jeans and a couple t-shirts and old comfy sweaters, and he couldn't wear his normal stuff now because it was all dirty and smelled a little too funky from all the outside stuff they'd been doing. So he was stuck with the Luthor-y new stuff now because unfortunately he couldn't just wash his stuff because (a) he didn't know how because the washing machine didn't have instructions on it or a user's manual, and (b) Luthor probably wouldn't tell him where the right soap was even if they had some, because Conner was pretty sure that he needed soap and water at a minimum and that he couldn't use dishwasher soap on clothing. He was pretty sure he needed special clothing soap, or something.
He'd have still been ok if he'd been able to get on the internet to look it up -- because hey, somebody had to have wrote that stuff down at some point, the internet had everything! -- but Luthor had declared a no-internet Christmas and confiscated Conner's phone. Which had sucked hardcore, except that Conner couldn't complain too much because Luthor hadn't been using his phone or laptop, either, and Conner was actually pretty sure that he hadn't even brought any, because he'd looked everywhere for them to try and confiscate them for self-use (or at least the moral high ground) and hadn't found anything.
And that was totally weird and suspicious because Luthor micromanaged stuff and must have had evil plans going on, so how was he keeping on top of things? He didn't trust anybody enough to delegate that stuff, Conner was, like, 99.999999% sure. But Conner hadn't caught him at anything yet. And they'd spent a lot of time together -- literally within the same room or couple-yards of physical space from each other. (Maybe he had some remote-brain-communication thing going on, but Luthor hated telepaths and Conner doubted he'd let one into his brain, and he'd never seemed distracted at any point so it was getting less and less likely that he'd had some brain-to-computer interface implanted in his skull. So, big mystery there.)
And what was even weirder was that Conner was a total information addict, even worse than Tim -- and that was really saying something -- but even though Conner would've sworn up and down that he would've absolutely died if he couldn't ping Tim whenever he wanted, or get online and read stuff from the library database that Tess's lab techs had set up for him if he was bored (which was a lot), or whatever, he'd actually gotten through the first whole day without even noticing the lack -- he'd only realized it come bedtime when he'd gone to check his email and discovered his phone missing. (Yeah, apparently along with all the excellent evil planning and lots of money and crazy-ass-gunslinging and kung-fu-boxing and swordsmanship and scientific know-how and general mad computer and technology skills, came the knowledge of mastery of pick pocketing and winning every verbal argument in the history of ever, too. Showoff. ...And no, Conner was so not jealous. Even though being evil totally had some freaking major perks besides full dental. Stupid LexCorp. Gah!)
But yeah, apparently evil could be really entertaining. --Or, uh, time-intensive to thwart. He really needed rescuing from Luthor soon, because he swore he hadn't used to get those two mixed up, really. There was probably a point of no-return out there somewhere, and he'd really really not like to cross it anytime soon. Or ever. Never would be good.
Conner frowned through all the bleh stuff hanging in the closet, and finally grabbed a pair of pants and a button-down shirt at random. And sighed and put them on. He grimaced at himself in the mirror, stared longingly at his dirty laundry, and then pulled the door to his bedroom (his bedroom? ugh...) open and started trudging down the stairs. He was in a really foul mood by the time he hit the bottom, because this one was totally an uncontested Luthor win, darnit, and he looked up with a glare as he came around the corner into the kitchen and opened his mouth to sound off somehow and try to get some of his own back, up until he realized Luthor wasn't alone in the kitchen.
Then his mouth hung open as he recognized who Luthor's houseguest was.
"CLARK!!!" Conner yelled excitedly as he launched himself at his super-savior.
"Woah! Hey there, you!" Clark grinned, catching Conner in a one-armed hug as he set down his mug of coffee. He ruffled Conner's hair a little, and when Conner hugged him tightly, he gave him a full bear hug back.
When Conner didn't let go and just buried his face in Clark's chest, Clark's grin slipped into a more relaxed small smile and he deepened the hug into something more gentle, dropping his head and pulling Conner closer in, relaxing and breathing easier.
"Hey, hey," Clark said softly, rubbing Conner's back a little. "I missed you, too." It's ok, everything's ok, he tried to say without words.
Conner nodded his head against Clark's chest and nestled in a little deeper, leaning in and just enjoying the feeling of closeness, now, and Clark started gently stroking his hair again. "Conner..." he sighed, "It hasn't been that bad, has it?"
That just couldn't go uncontested. Conner poked his head up and stared at Clark, agast with disbelief.
"Not that bad? Are you serious?!"
"Um?" Clark glanced over at Lex for a moment, looking unsure. But Lex was no help, just standing there drinking his coffee and watching-while-not-watching them and trying to look casually innocent. Oh boy.
"He needs, like, a full-time something!" Conner exclaimed in disgust.
"...A full-time something?" Clark echoed.
"Yeah! Like a bodyguard, or a keeper, or a prison guard, or a babysitter, or a - a - a -" Conner stood back and started waving his hands around. "People wrangler! Or rustler. People-rustler. --A specific one, for just him. A Luthor-rustler. Do they have those? We need one of those. I get presents for Christmas, right? Can I trade them all in for one of those, and sic it on him? Please???" Conner all-but-begged.
Clark slowly looked over sideways at Lex partway through the tirade, and Lex coughed quietly and looked away. Embarassed. Oh man.
"...Why do you think he needs a full-time ...wrangler?" Clark asked lightly, ignoring Lex's silent noise of protest. Clark already knew the general answer to that question, but was hoping for specifics, in a probably-going-to-give-him-a-headache-but-still-needing-to-know-anyway way.
"He gets into trouble. Like all the time. I can't-- There are no words!" Conner pulled at his hair a little and started pacing in circles. "We couldn't go into town without something happening. At first, I thought it was me? Because I'm all alien-hybrid-mutant and stuff happens and I deal? But it's not -- it's totally him! Because we tried going to the other town?" Conner waved in the general direction of Granville. "And stuff still happened! And it wasn't after me, because he wandered off on his own," Clark caught a frown from Lex and had to stifle a smile, "and I was totally fine. But no, not him! He had to go and... argh! You just don't know!" Conner shouted in total and complete frustration, flinging his hands up -- except that Clark did, he totally did, and he was having real trouble keeping his face an expressionless calm listening mask while Conner continued to rant, gesturing all around. "He does stuff? And stuff happens and I've got to get him out of trouble. And when he doesn't do stuff? Stuff finds him. It's nuts! --And that thing with the tomatoes? I mean, what the hell?!?" Conner huffed out, finally winding down. He stood there a few moments looking totally pissed off, and breathing heavily.
Clark couldn't help it. He burst out laughing.
Conner made a righteously offended noise, and Lex exclaimed, "Clark!" with a rather hilarious amount of annoyance, and that just made it worse.
"You think this is funny???" Conner demanded almost petulantly. Lex was surely glaring at him by this point. Clark waved them both off and bent over slightly, trying to calm down enough to stop laughing so damn hard and catch his breath.
"Ahh, no-o." Clark wiped his eyes and coughed vaguely to cover another snickering half-laugh. "Sorry, I... h-hehm." He took a deep breath. "It's just that I do know. I know, firsthand." He paused a moment, collecting himself and trying not to grin. "You see, that was kind of my life from fourteen to twenty-one," Clark explained as kindly as he could.
Conner gave him the most horror-filled look he'd ever seen in his life.
Clark managed to keep it to only a wide grin this time, but barely just.
"I'm not that bad," Lex mumbled stuffily, sipping at his coffee and doing the Lex body-language-equivalent of hunching his shoulders by the way he was holding the mug, but Clark just bit his lip to help stifle his grin, glancing over at him, because he totally was.
"Does that mean that I can't get that as a present?" Conner said mournfully.
But Clark just shook his head and explained gently: "It means that you don't have to give up or trade in any presents, because Lex already has one, and he's called Superman." Because, honestly, that was pretty much his job description these days.
Conner's mouth dropped open and he started making strangled noises. Lex made an indignant sound, and Clark leaned over and gave him a one-armed half-hug as an apology. --A quick one, in case Lex felt like he might have to otherwise protest it somehow. Because he really wasn't as bad or as 'defenseless' as he used to be, really. Actually knowing not just what he was up against and fighting, but also correct and relevant information on the status of the situation and said foes at any given point, had helped a lot on that front.
But when Clark glanced back at Conner he was just standing perfectly still.
"Conner?" Clark asked, wondering what was wrong.
"You just hugged him," Conner stated without inflection.
"Ah, yes?" Clark replied.
"You just... hugged him." Conner looked like he was in shock, and his brain was stuck for a moment... until it wasn't. Then he was thinking furiously, his eyes ping-ponging between them, and Clark wasn't sure he liked what he caught flashing across Conner's face.
"Conner--" Clark reached out, and Conner took a step back.
"So, clone or shapeshifter?" Conner asked calmly.
"Huh?" Clark frowned.
"Because there is no way in hell that you are him. ...Or is it mindcontrol? That makes more sense." Conner added far too calmly, taking another sideways step back, inching his way carefully towards a clear shot to the front door. Clark had a sudden sinking feeling.
"Conner!" Lex ground out, starting towards him, but Clark grimaced, knowing better, and held out an arm and barred the way, stopping Lex in his tracks. Lex gave him a startled look, then glared and opened his mouth to -- but Clark gave him a sideways look and shook his head once, cutting him off -- Don't. Lex dithered for a moment, but then closed his mouth and with a frown backed off, sliding his hands into his pockets and stepping back to watch -- for now.
Clark turned to Conner and tried to think this through calmly. This required some very delicate handling, because these sorts of accusations never ended well for anybody, especially since it was damn near impossible to prove otherwise, and once somebody got it into their head... well, persuasion never worked on anybody smart enough to twig to the fact that what mind control actually was was persuasion at the root of it all, and Conner was crazy-smart. If he started to have doubt about the validity of the argument, thinking about changing his mind would inevitably jump immediately to "they're trying to get me too!" and a knock-down drag-out fight of epic proportions. Not good. These sorts of things were sometimes even epically bad, and the aftermath was always a mess.
So Clark took a deep breath, stepped back a little, and relaxed. He just watched as Conner inched towards the door, then inched towards it again. He didn't say a word. Conner started to look nervous.
Clark folded his arms and waited.
Finally, Conner blurted out, "You can't stop me from leaving!"
"Of course I can," Clark shrugged matter-of-factly. He could almost feel Lex's glare boring a hole through his back, but he purposefully ignored Lex, watching Conner with all of his attention. Glancing back at Lex just then would indicate that he was taking cues from him, and that would be counter-productive. So instead, Clark waited as Conner straightened self-righteously, about to yell back in knee-jerk defiance... until he froze in place and tensed as all the implications of that really hit him, and only then did Clark add, "But I won't." Which of course brought Conner's thought process to a screeching halt, like he knew it would.
"I... I..." Conner stammered nervously shifting from foot to foot. Then he straightened a bit, balled his fists, and half-asked, "I'm going to leave now..." He looked at Lex as he did so, almost as if for permission, which made Clark wonder all over again how voluntary Conner thought his stay here was.
Then Clark heard the sharp intake of breath behind him, and he closed his eyes in pain for a moment as he raised a warning hand back at Lex without looking away from Conner, because Lex was not going to like this at all. He heard Lex gritting his teeth, but otherwise saying nothing, and Clark thanked god for small miracles. He opened his eyes and said, calmly, "Then go."
Conner stared at Clark, then glanced at Lex, then was gone.
Clark let out his breath in a sigh and waited for the meltdown.
"You bastard!" Lex hissed. Yup, there it was. Clark grimaced and turned to face him. "You utter--"
Clark cut him off. "I wasn't trying to separate you two, Lex. There's no other good way to handle that."
"You ran him off!" Lex continued, irate, slamming a fist down on the kitchen table so hard it rattled.
"He'll be back."
"Like hell!" Lex snarled. "You did that on purpose--!"
"Of course I did!" Clark yelled, losing his temper. Then he grimaced, pinched the bridge of his nose, and reined it in with some effort. Started over. "Do you really think I could have convinced him that I wasn't being mind-controlled?"
"What makes you think you aren't?" Lex shot back, because he was just like that. Clark crossed his arms and gave him a look until Lex gave first and dropped his gaze.
"You could have at least tried!" Lex snarled in frustration, bracing both hands on the tabletop and leaning forward with a tired aggression, still not meeting Clark's eyes. He probably couldn't trust himself not to attack for the moment if he did.
"Lex, if I put myself on the defensive, it would've validated Conner's accusations and given him the right to judge me," he explained patiently, knowing Lex would get this if Clark put it in terms he could understand and if he'd just try to listen.
"You--"
"Confirmation bias," Clark interjected, and Lex hesitated, then glowered at him, but shut up. Clark took that as a go-ahead signal to continue.
"You saw what happened even when I offered no resistance to what he wanted, even when you disagreed with what I said and did. Trying to convince him he was wrong wouldn't have worked. Anything I said or did he'd find fault with and interpret towards me being messed-in-the-head." Clark pointed out calmly. "Not responding the way he'd expect already shook him out of it a little bit -- you know that heroes generally have a knee-jerk reaction to tackle anyone who isn't on the 'right side' for whatever reason."
Lex grumbled, but was starting to look a little pensive.
"He's a smart kid, Lex," Clark soothed, stepping closer. "He just needs some time to think without any outside pressure that he'd feel a need to dig in his heels and fight against. He'll be back."
"How are you so sure?" Lex said grumpily, collapsing back into his chair and staring at his coffee remorsefully.
"Because I'm not mind-controlled, so any argument that he could come up with to explain otherwise will end up sounding ludicrous when taken to its logical ending conclusion and eventually collapse under its own weight." Then Clark all-but-smirked as he retrieved his own coffee mug. "Besides, he's listening in right now, and that probably helps..."
"He is?" Lex asked.
"Oh my god, how did you know?!" Conner asked in horror, twelve miles away and over-utilizing his super-hearing.
"Yes, he is, and I didn't know until just now," Clark answered both of them in order, smirking into his coffee as he took a sip.
"That's sneaky of you," Lex said, looking at Clark askance with a gaze that screamed, You shouldn't be pulling a me on him, he'll get confused.
"What?" yelped Conner. Then, after thinking that through. "What?!?!?"
"Lex said, 'He is?' and then 'That's sneaky of you.' " Clark repeated.
"I heard him! I've got super-hearing!" Conner asserted shortly.
Lex tilted his head at Clark, and Clark relayed, "Conner said, 'What?' twice, and then 'I heard him! I've got super-hearing!' The first thing he said was, 'Oh my god, how did you know?' "
Lex smirked a little. "Ah, but is he using it properly?"
"Conner, Lex wants to know if you're using your super-hearing properly," Clark related.
"Oh my god, seriously? I heard him the first time! All three times!" Conner yelled, waving his arms.
Clark glanced over and smiled.
Lex stared, then blinked.
Conner slowly lowered his hands as he realized that he was standing in the living room of the farmhouse, staring the two of them in the face, then clapped his hands over his mouth. Then he realized that that was really no help at all, and super-sped out again.
Lex turned to look at Clark.
Clark grinned.
"Explanation, please?" Lex asked, when his tone actually demanded Explanation, now.
"It's an impulse control thing," Clark began after a pause, having determined that Conner was too busy pacing around a cornfield and cursing to himself from the sound of his voice and the distinctive crunching of dead stalks underfoot -- and more than likely thinking things over furiously -- to be listening in on them at the same time. "It's... well, it's really too easy for Kryptonians on Earth to translate thinking about things to doing them. Most things take almost no physical effort at all, and when you can be halfway through doing something before you've even really finished the thought... um, well, it's difficult sometimes to not do things unless you have a lot of practice at..." '...stifling your desires'? Er, that wouldn't go over well. '...not letting yourself think things in the first place'? -- probably not so much, either.
"...Well, practice at not doing. That." Clark grimaced. "Or maybe it's not a Kryptonian thing. It could be just the influence of my DNA, or maybe my DNA plus mom's upbringing, on him, though. Kara and Zod never seemed to have any trouble not, uh..." Clark had to stop and think about that for a second, though, because when had either of them really reined in their desires and not just done whatever the hell they wanted, like the canonical 500-pound gorilla escaped from the zoo? Then he realized that he'd just compared Kara and Zod -- and himself -- in the same sentence. "--Um, bad example. Maybe forget I just said that?" Clark asked, peering up at Lex.
Uh oh. Lex had an intense look on his face. One that pretty much screamed, I don't know what you weren't saying there, but I'm sure it's even worse than what you did, and I shall know it.
Clark winced, and opened his mouth to start to backpedal furiously, when Conner decided to suddenly reappear in the living room.
"Ok, so maybe I am willing to believe that you might not be totally and completely mind-controlled by Lex right now--"
Clark blinked and turned to Conner, switching gears.
"--even though it is really freaking messed up that you hugged Lex--"
"Conner--" Clark tried to interject.
"--but maybe he tricked you into it somehow that I don't know about--"
"Conner--" Clark tried again.
"--or maybe you're the one mind-controlling him because you're still breathing after sorta hugging him--"
"Conner -- CALM DOWN!" Clark yelled.
Conner stopped pacing and froze.
Lex shook his head slightly and remained silent, taking another sip of his coffee.
Clark blew out a breath and tried to recoup. "Conner," he started calmly, "I think that maybe -- just maybe -- you might have the wrong idea about some things, and we might need to back up a little, first. Before we get to talking about who might be mind-controlling whom. Ok?"
Conner looked a little worried.
Clark sighed. "Can we at least agree that I'm me, and not somebody else?"
"...Ok," Conner said warily.
"How do you know?" Lex asked, intrigued. Clark shot him a Not helping! look.
"He sounds like him," Conner said, shifting from foot-to-foot.
"And someone couldn't just record his voice and mimic him?" Lex asked, prodding.
"...It's not just his voice," Conner mumbled. "It's, ...heartbeat and, ...other things." Then he wouldn't meet Lex's gaze and added, trying not to squirm, "And he felt like him. When I hugged him earlier."
Lex got a slight smile. "That's true," he said evenly.
Conner's head shot up. "He's hugged you before???"
"We've hugged each other before, yes," Lex corrected. "And certainly better than that paltry thing he did just now," Lex added with a dismissive wave.
"I wasn't sure whether you'd get all prickly about it," Clark defended.
Lex gave him a look over his coffee mug.
"Fine, whatever. I can't win," Clark said, throwing up his hands. "Guess I might as well do what I want, then."
"Maybe you should," Lex said evenly, lowering his eyelids demurely, to the point that Clark couldn't get a good bead on what he was thinking at the moment.
Clark frowned, then shook his head and turned back to Conner. "So, regardless of mindcontrol, how much do you think you can trust of what I say?"
Conner started a little, then frowned as he thought. He glanced between Clark and Lex. "I... don't know. You don't sound like you're lying..." he trailed off. Then he bit his lip, glanced at Lex, and watched Clark intently as he asked, "Are you being mind-controlled right now?"
"Sure," Clark said.
Lex's head snapped up like it was on a string.
Conner's mouth dropped open.
"What?" Conner asked weakly. Clark could see the confusion whirling in his eyes.
"I'm being mind-controlled..." Clark stated simply with a smile...
"But-- but you said--!"
...that widened into a grin. "...depending on your definition of mind-control."
"Clark!!!" Lex growled.
"Well, mind-control is just really good persuasion and persistent, sometimes overwhelming, influence over what goes on in somebody's brain. And you are very persuasive, Lex," Clark smiled at him with a glint in his eyes.
"Clark, that is not--"
"And communication is the art of getting a concept in your brain into somebody else's head. Which is basically manipulating and controlling thought in that other person's head, to an extent. And you are very good at communicating, Lex. I mean, you make a living off of it, in fact. It's practically your job -- convincing people to do what you want."
Lex sneered at him and drew himself up, highly offended. "First of all," he spat out, "I don't spend all day just 'talking to people' -- my job involves a great deal of paperwork--"
"--which is written communication, and sometimes even more effective and wide-ranging than verbal communication, under certain circumstances," Clark pointed out.
"Oh, for heaven's sake! By your own definition, at this rate you'll be making a case for farming really being all about communicating properly with plants!" Lex ended in disgust, leaning back and folding his arms.
"I'll have you know that I am the best corn-whisperer this side of the Mississippi," Clark preened primly.
Lex, bless him, did an honest-to-god facepalm.
"You guys are weird," Conner stated in that time-honored traditional tone most teen-aged-bodied individuals used when their progenitors did things to which the only proper response was for said younger individual to fervently pray that they would never be associated with their progenitors in public, or in any other way, shape, or form, ever again.
Clark grinned.
Lex merely replied, "Well, I am a meteor-freak..."
"Hey!" Clark objected. "The proper term is 'meteor-infected' or 'metahuman' now!"
Lex performed the Lexian equivalent of rolling his eyes. Clark glared at him.
"...and Clark grew up in Smallville under a bad influence," Lex ended with a faint smirk.
"Got that backwards. Again," Clark harrumphed at him in response. Lex raised an eyebrow or two at that, but otherwise failed to respond.
Conner looked between the two of them like they were out of their freaking minds.
"...And we're getting off-topic a little," Clark said, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"What, only a little?" Lex added under his breath.
"Lex--"
"No, really? You think that telling him you're being mind-controlled by me when he already thinks you're being mind-controlled by me is an excellent way to take control of the situation and a good way to convince him that this is not the case, instead of just freaking him out?" Lex all-but-drawled.
"What! He's fine -- you're fine, right?" Clark asked, glancing at Conner. "I bet he's more fine now than he was when you did whatever without telling him about how we'd worked out that he was spending every other Christmas together with you!" Clark glared at Lex.
"Um," Conner blinked.
Clark paused, then turned back to Conner. " 'Um'?" he queried.
"Lex... kind of... did tell me about... that..." Conner trailed off, looking a little guilty.
Clark blinked at him. Then he blinked at Lex.
"Okay," Clark said evenly. "I was under the impression earlier -- from both you and him -- that you did not feel as though you were here voluntarily. Did I miss something?" he ended. What the hell is going on? he asked Lex with his eyes.
"He kidnapped me," Conner said.
"Only a little!" Lex defended, raising his hands palms-outward.
"Damnit, Lex!" Clark yelled, shooting up out of his chair.
"I couldn't get him to stay still in one place long enough to talk to him!" Lex yelled back, smacking his hands against the table, hard, and bolting upright himself.
"It's called the internet! Conner knows how to read email!"
"He's never read any of them before! And you were supposed to tell him beforehand!"
"I already said I was sorry about that, and he always reads his email!"
They glared at each other across the kitchen table for a bit, silently fuming.
"...You send me email?" Conner asked tentatively after no further outbursts seemed imminent.
They both turned as one to stare at him.
"You haven't been getting...?" both adults said simultaneously. Clark trailed off first, and got a horror-filled look as realization hit. It took Lex a little longer, with confusion being quickly beaten out by pure rage.
"That bitch--!" Lex seethed.
"I'll have a talk with her," Clark grated out.
"You think that's going to help?" Lex shot back derisively.
"I'll get him another phone. A burner," Clark said to Lex. "Conner, you're going to need to use it only for communications that don't have anything to do with hero work so it doesn't get routed through the Watchtower network and picked up. Tess and Chloe set up the League phones with software--"
"I know that," Conner said, frowning.
"No, Conner..." Clark sighed. "Look, you know how easy it is to track cellphone signals, right?"
Conner nodded.
"And how easy it is to decrypt the voice signals?"
Conner nodded.
"And how we have to have secure communications, and how all that involves adding a lot of software and sometimes some extra hardware to those phones?"
Conner nodded, more slowly.
"Well, that software works by routing everything on both ends of a call to or from one of those phones through the Watchtower computers, and doing most of the work there. The voice-changers and bouncing around signals to prevent tower and GPS traces and everything happens in those systems, as well as running checks to 'ghost' the original signals by pattern-matching that callsignal and deleting it from other people's databases and -- it's fine, Conner, this is all common knowledge stuff which Lex already knows," Clark added when Conner looked worried and glanced at Lex.
"Ok, but... what does this have to do with anything?"
"Your phone, and all the phones your friends in Young Justice use, were given to you by Watchtower, right?"
Conner nodded.
"So all that information goes through those Watchtower systems to work. Which means that all that data can and is controlled by those computers--"
"Tess wouldn't mess with my phone!" Conner yelled, horrified, backing up a step. He glanced at Lex, who met his eyes grimly, then looked away.
"Conner, it may not be Tess," Clark said very carefully. "It could be anyone in the League with access to those systems. That's also Chloe, Oliver, Lois... a lot of others, ok?"
"Interesting that you jumped right to thinking of Tess, though," Lex said thinly, staring at the ceiling.
"Hey, if it comes down to believing in Tess, who is like the greatest aunt ever and cares about me, and my evil says-he's-my-father-and-wants-me-to-join-the-dark-side you, guess whose side I pick!" Conner spat back.
Clark went still. He saw Lex look resigned as he covered up the hurt. He waited for Lex to say something, watched Lex do nothing but remain silent, and Clark felt a rising wave of anger of the sort that he rarely felt. One that he knew he had better damn well get a hold on but did not feel any desire to do so. At all.
"Who told you that?" Clark asked Conner quietly, catching his gaze and holding it.
"I--" Conner started, startled at Clark's vehemence.
"Clark..." Lex said quietly.
"Shut up, Lex," Clark said so evenly that he could use it as a carpentry level. He didn't take his eyes off of Conner. "Who told you Lex was evil? Because I know I didn't. And that isn't the sort of conclusion that you would come to on your own, which means you heard it from someone." Clark took a step towards Conner. "I want to know who."
"I-- I-- don't--" Conner gulped, looking a little like a frightened mouse, but still trying to stand tall in the face of the sudden onslaught. "I don't remember, I-- Everybody says it!" he whined, knowing he was in desperate trouble but feeling like it was completely out of the blue and he had no idea why or what he did wrong.
"Who is 'everybody'?" Clark demanded.
"Clark! It's ok!" Lex objected, starting forward.
"No, Lex!" Clark growled at Lex, who came to an abrupt halt. "It is not ok!" He turned back to Conner, glaring down at full height.
"Lex is not evil. --He is not, do not interrupt me." Clark added when Conner started to argue. "I know evil. I have fought evil. Darkseid is evil. Granny Goodness and the three prophets were evil. Lionel was evil." He heard a quick intake of breath from Lex behind him. "Lex is not."
It was so quiet that even normal human hearing could have heard a pin drop.
"But... he..." Conner said, completely uncomprehending.
"Lex is not evil. Evil hurts and kills. Preferably hurts, because killing is too quick and would end the pain and torment. It enjoys causing pain. It twists and corrupts. It lives for doing so, for controlling and subjugating and breaking down others. It does not love, or feel pure joy, or treasure simple happiness, and it cannot stand the thought that there are those who live in the light and do those things. It delights in undermining trust and laughs when it breaks apart great nations through paranoia and fear. It turns those who would otherwise live in harmony to hate and rage and murderous intent and spurns them on until they have all destroyed themselves and each other. It darkens souls and leaves nothing but death and destruction and suffering in its wake."
Conner was staring at Clark with wide, terrified eyes. Clark had no idea what Lex must be thinking of him right now, but this needed to be said. Conner could not go around thinking like he had, so wrongly.
"I have seen and fought evil. I know it. I can recognize it for what it is. And Lex is not evil. He could not be evil if he tried."
Conner swallowed shakily and glanced at Lex as Clark closed his eyes for a moment, collecting himself.
Lex was slightly pale and staring at Clark. He had his arms wrapped around himself like he was trying to hold himself together. Like he would shake apart into tiny little pieces if he let go. He looked... shocked. Like he was trying to get words out and was failing. Like he didn't know what to say.
And that scared Conner more than a little.
"You cannot go around calling people 'evil', Conner," Clark continued quietly, authoritatively. "That is not a word to be used lightly. It means something. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, sir," Conner breathed.
Clark's gaze bored into his, and Conner shivered a little himself. Finally, Clark pulled back a little, his jaw unclenched a bit, and Conner swayed and felt for all the world like he wanted to collapse a little, right where he stood. Maybe even cry a little.
"Don't do it again."
"Yes, sir. I... I'm sorry." Conner said vaguely, not sure who he should be sorry to exactly, but he still meant it. He glanced at Lex again, then away.
"Clark--" Lex started, sounding strained, and like he was trying to be angry but was having trouble for some reason.
"It is important that he knows," Clark stated firmly, rounding on Lex. "And you clearly weren't willing or able to set him straight.'
"Clark--!"
"No, Lex. You were the one who said you wanted the responsibility. If you want to be a father to him, you had damn well better step up and do it."
Lex's eyes went wide and he swayed backwards like he'd been slapped, and Conner could just feel the threat of the or else behind Clark's statement, but 'or else' what??
Then the rest of the implications of what Clark had said caught up to Conner.
"You-- he-- y-you want him to be my dad?" Conner stammered, his voice hitting the higher registers and nearly cracking at the end.
"Sure. He's always wanted kids, and he'll make a great dad," said Clark, perfectly seriously.
Lex made a frantic choking noise.
"Oh, for--" Clark said, turning to Lex and crossing his arms, looking annoyed and more than a little exasperated. "You'll be fine as long as you act like yourself, instead of worrying about what Luthors do and don't do, or whatever. And if you're not sure about doing something, just think how you'd feel if Lionel did it to you and decide accordingly."
"Don't be stupid!" Lex sputtered. "Dad could make walking down the street into an exercise in--" Lex cut off his own protest when he caught Conner's stare.
"Do I really need to do this?" Clark said to the heavens, then looked between Lex and Conner. "...Okay, apparently I do."
"Lex, you know right from wrong. Shut up, you do -- don't pretend or lie otherwise, to Conner or to yourself about it. Don't do stupid shit like kidnapping Conner, just talk to him. I know you'll listen, but you need to open up. That means no messing with him because you're afraid you'll get hurt, because you will, but you're trying to be the parent here, so suck it up and rough it out. You're also going to have to be there for him all the time, so he'll know he'll have your support when he needs it, and a big part of that is making sure that he can feel safe with you. No changing your mind -- this is all-or-nothing. You're good at that, too. You're going to make mistakes, and you had better get over that fact right now. You're not going to get do-overs, but that's not the end of the world, either. Nobody knows what they're doing, so just try and do better next time. When you screw up, apologize, maybe try to explain. Conner's smart; he may feel hurt, but I'm sure he'll get it. When you feel angry, walk away if you have to, but cool down before you do or say anything -- I don't think I need to explain why. If you think you're over your head, come talk to me or mom, because you're not alone in this and you don't have to be. Understand?"
"Conner, if he does something you don't like, tell him right away, especially how it makes you feel and why you don't like it. And when he tells you something, you have to listen to him. --You don't have to agree with him," Clark stopped Conner before he could protest. "Listening to someone is not the same as agreeing with them, or doing everything they tell you to. You have your own mind, and you can make your own decisions. If you think about it, you will realize that Lex does, in fact, already respect this, even if he hasn't ever actually come out and said it. But -- but -- listening to him does mean you have to think about what he says -- really think about it, and not just dismiss it outright because you don't like what he's saying for some nebulous reason. If you disagree, argue with him and let him know your reasons -- he'll respect you more for it, and you may even change his mind, though if you want him to change his mind, you had better be open to the possibility that you might end up changing yours. If you think through what he says and don't agree with him, and decide otherwise, that's fine; however, it does not mean that you can ignore or disobey him without consequences, either. Which sucks, but he's your dad, and you're the kid. If he does something and you really don't trust his judgment, you tell him, and me, and mom why, and we'll hash it out between us and figure something out. Got it?"
Considering how uncomfortable they both looked, Clark figured they did.
"Great. Anything else?"
"...Does this mean I have to live with him?" Conner said meekly.
Lex started. Then said, quickly, "Not if you don't want to."
Conner stared at Lex, wide-eyed, then glanced over to Clark, who just shrugged. Conner glanced back to Lex again, and really looked at him, hands slid in his pants pockets, where the tension was in his posture, how he was balanced on his feet...
"You totally didn't have anything to do with this, did you?" Conner asked Lex.
"In what reality, exactly, would I want Clark to give me a Superman lecture, tell you not to do what I say, and then make it clear that apparently he and Mrs. Kent have veto power over any parenting decisions I may make?" Lex griped, looking as pissed off as a wet cat.
Conner was a little shell-shocked at the moment, but he was pretty sure that that was a resounding 'no.'
"...Do I have to like him?" Conner asked Clark uneasily, watching Lex frown at the question.
"You don't have to like him; you do have to love him. He's family; it kind of comes with the territory. Same for him, too."
Conner and Lex both made the same uncomfortable wordless noise, and then both looked at each other, startled. When Clark grinned at the two of them and Lex glared, Conner had to fight not to glare too, because he felt embarrassed as hell that he had anything in common with Lex at all.
"I can't believe this," Conner sighed, frustrated beyond belief. "I get him as a dad for Christmas?" He ran both hands through his hair and glared at Clark. "This better not be your present to me or anything!"
Clark laughed. "No, I'm pretty sure that's Lex's present to you. By the way, what's all that under the tree over there?" And Clark nodded at the tree, raising his eyebrows.
Conner blinked at him, then looked over. Then looked down.
"Why are there... boxes?... under..." Conner frowned.
Lex stared for a moment, then looked at Clark in horror. He mouthed, 'You've never given him presents before?!'
Clark gave him an 'are you crazy?' look. Lex frowned, taking a few steps forward so he could watch.
Conner frowned and lifted a box. He stared at it for a bit. "This is... paper?" He glanced up at Clark. "Why does it have faces on it?" After tilting his head and glancing at the others boxes. "Or animals and things..." Then he rotated it and saw the bow. "Bow. Paper. Wrapping paper...?" he muttered to himself. There was a beat when he went from confused to the light going on.
"Presents!" he exclaimed brightly, grinning widely ear-to-ear.
Clark saw Lex fight the urge to smack his forehead.
'Didn't quite get around to Santa Claus and reindeer, huh?' Clark smiled.
'I thought you said he read up on the basics of the holiday last year!' Lex silently hissed at him. Then he looked like he wanted to hit something when Clark just nodded, and Lex realized that 'read up on' meant 'text' and not 'pictures with text' or 'videos'.
"Hey!" Conner complained indignantly, "This one doesn't have my name on it!" He turned and glared at Lex, then held it out to him like Lex getting a present should be a criminal offense.
Lex blinked down at the purple-ribboned present that he did not wrap, with the tag that had his name written on it in Clark's handwriting, and glanced at Clark as he took it from Conner.
Clark had an innocent look.
"Thought you didn't leave the house last night," Lex muttered.
"I didn't."
"You didn't have this with you last night," Lex accused quietly. "Or those," he added, seeing one or two other interlopers snuggled within the rest.
"I might have called in a favor for special delivery."
Lex stared at him.
"The League--" he began.
"Nope," said Clark.
"...Not the League?" Lex said, then became distracted as Conner finished tugging off the last bit of tape from a present that did have his name on it and started to slide the box out of the paper with a very intent and focused look on his face.
"Were you rudely awakened in the middle of the night by a bunch of self-righteous leather-clad individuals yelling at you about villainy and thwarting and shuffling Conner off and otherwise acting like jerks?" Clark asked quietly.
"...No."
"Well, there you go."
Lex frowned, but clearly decided to table the discussion for the moment when Conner made a happy noise as he finally got the box open and saw what was inside. Lex and Clark glanced at each other, then in unified agreement settled down on the couch for the interim.
~*~*~*~*~*~
After presents, which Conner was well-pleased with, Lex made pancakes for breakfast, and Clark squeezed orange juice from some oranges. Lex and Clark ate leisurely as Conner chattered away happily in-between mouthfuls, making the appropriate comments here and there, but otherwise steering the conversation away from sensitive topics and keeping things light and more-or-less pleasant.
Despite, or maybe because of Clark's earlier equal-treatment-all-around lecture, Conner was no longer worried about Clark being dangerously torqued-in-the-head. Other than the lack of nemesis-fighting, Clark was acting pretty normally and otherwise like himself.
Besides, if Lex wasn't doing overtly ev-- bad -- things, then Conner guessed it sort of made sense that Clark wouldn't be fighting him to try and stop those e-- bad things that weren't happening. Because it was hard to fight something that didn't exist. Didn't make it any less weird, nor did it explain Lex's somewhat good (or at least not overly bad) behavior. Superman was supposed to get along with people. Lex wasn't.
Conner finally sighed heavily, and admitted to Clark, "Ok, so maybe you aren't completely brainwashed, but--"
"Brainwashed?" someone echoed from the front door in a horror-filled tone.
Conner turned in his chair and looked towards the living room, eyes lighting up, recognizing Tim -- well, Robin, since he was in costume -- and his other friends as they filed in. "You guys..." Conner breathed, feeling a hella lot of relief. People in his corner. Thank god. And Tim. Tim was awesome. Tim always helped everything make sense -- Tim was great at people. Tim could help with the whole Lex-Clark thing, which wasn't making all that much sense anymore, because they were almost acting like they could get along without killing each other.
And had been. For awhile now. And there had been presents for Lex. From Clark, Conner was pretty sure, which Lex had not expected, Conner was definitely sure, and that was a little mind-bendy.
But what were they doing here? And why did they look so wary and on-edge?
"Are you ok?" Tim asked. Conner nodded, and then he remembered that he'd been kidnapped and missing for a little over two weeks, and had been praying for somebody to rescue him for most of that time. It almost seemed a little weird to think about now, because Clark was here, so of course he was fine and safe and stuff.
"Holy crap, is that Luthor?" said Mia, unslinging her bow and frowning as she slipped into a fighting pose.
"...Uh, yeah," Conner said, derailed a bit. "He--"
"What? Luthor brainwashed Superman?!" a third head popped in from the hallway, eyes wide. Eyesockets, rather, as Jaime was fully encased in his alien Blue Beetle machinery at the moment.
"Um, that, well, yes, sort-of? But-not-really -- because Lex was talking and talking is, um -- that is, Lex is maybe the one who, um -- no wait, I mean," Conner flailed a little mentally as he reran Clark's confusing conversation from before, then realized that that whole crazy conversation hadn't been what his friends had been asking about. "That's not really--"
"Oh my god! Luthor did--!" Cassie gasped. She instinctively grabbed at her lasso.
"--what I--"
"I'll call for backup!" Tim yelled, turning to run.
"--said."
"No time, we have to do something now!" said Bart, grabbing Robin at super-speed and pulling him back. "We can take him together!"
"...Guys?" Conner said, starting to get a little worried. He hadn't been this bad before, had he?
Lex glanced back-and-forth between all the young teens, watching the entire scene unfold from his vantage point at the kitchen table in a little shock and awe, like he was watching a train wreck in slow-motion without a Superman around to stop it from happening. Because Superman was the train wreck, just waiting to happen.
"Now just wait a minute--" Clark began, getting up from the kitchen table and heading towards them.
"Quick, get him!!!" Mia yelled, voice filled with fiery fervor and fighting fury. Clark came to a screeching halt as he realized his mistake.
"Uh oh," said Conner, wincing, as the entirety of Young Justice, sans one, launched themselves bodily at Superman across the room.
Clark sighed and braced himself.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Back to Master Post
Author: josephina_x
Fandom: Smallville
Pairing/Characters: Clark/Lex, Conner (Superboy), and some others... ^_^;;
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: post-series (futurefic), takes place before the "seven-years later"
Word count: 8300+
Summary: Conner and Lex get schooled a bit by Clark-nee-Superman. Things go downhill when Conner's friends finally show up to 'rescue' him.
Warnings: General for entire series. Unbeta'd. Rating for language.
Disclaimer: Not mine, not-for-profit.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Conner yawned and stretched casually in his bed, then relaxed and stared at the ceiling for awhile.
He heard noises downstairs, and it took him a bit to realize that he was currently (still) sharing space with Lex Luthor, and like each successive morning that he'd spent the night in the farmhouse, it took him a little longer to remember that fact, and he felt a little more relaxed about it, in that he didn't feel nearly as much of the massive adrenaline spike (or whatever mutant alien-hybrid equivalent he had of it) and a flight-over-fight response. It was like... Luthor-inoculation-by-overexposure, or something.
At this rate, he'd be so jaded by the end of the Christmas season that he'd probably be able to be in the same room as Luthor and not be totally hyper-aware of that fact at all times, maybe even forget it for a couple seconds or so if Luthor was being quiet and sort-of unobtrusive. Like not trying to cut him with a Kryptonite scalpel or blow him up or something otherwise evil and bad and just plain wrong. Not that Luthor ever did anything plain, except maybe toast, and wow he was getting into weird territory because now he knew things like that: his villainous pseudo-dad liked plain toast. No butter, no jam, no nothing. Just toast. Really crispy toast and... yeah, now he was getting hungry. Time for food.
Conner stretched again and sat up in bed, scratched his stomach a little, and then got up and rummaged through the closet. Luthor had been kind of mean about wanting him "dressed properly" and had pretty much forced a bunch of rich-kid fancy dress clothes on him. Conner had only managed to talk him into three pairs of jeans and a couple t-shirts and old comfy sweaters, and he couldn't wear his normal stuff now because it was all dirty and smelled a little too funky from all the outside stuff they'd been doing. So he was stuck with the Luthor-y new stuff now because unfortunately he couldn't just wash his stuff because (a) he didn't know how because the washing machine didn't have instructions on it or a user's manual, and (b) Luthor probably wouldn't tell him where the right soap was even if they had some, because Conner was pretty sure that he needed soap and water at a minimum and that he couldn't use dishwasher soap on clothing. He was pretty sure he needed special clothing soap, or something.
He'd have still been ok if he'd been able to get on the internet to look it up -- because hey, somebody had to have wrote that stuff down at some point, the internet had everything! -- but Luthor had declared a no-internet Christmas and confiscated Conner's phone. Which had sucked hardcore, except that Conner couldn't complain too much because Luthor hadn't been using his phone or laptop, either, and Conner was actually pretty sure that he hadn't even brought any, because he'd looked everywhere for them to try and confiscate them for self-use (or at least the moral high ground) and hadn't found anything.
And that was totally weird and suspicious because Luthor micromanaged stuff and must have had evil plans going on, so how was he keeping on top of things? He didn't trust anybody enough to delegate that stuff, Conner was, like, 99.999999% sure. But Conner hadn't caught him at anything yet. And they'd spent a lot of time together -- literally within the same room or couple-yards of physical space from each other. (Maybe he had some remote-brain-communication thing going on, but Luthor hated telepaths and Conner doubted he'd let one into his brain, and he'd never seemed distracted at any point so it was getting less and less likely that he'd had some brain-to-computer interface implanted in his skull. So, big mystery there.)
And what was even weirder was that Conner was a total information addict, even worse than Tim -- and that was really saying something -- but even though Conner would've sworn up and down that he would've absolutely died if he couldn't ping Tim whenever he wanted, or get online and read stuff from the library database that Tess's lab techs had set up for him if he was bored (which was a lot), or whatever, he'd actually gotten through the first whole day without even noticing the lack -- he'd only realized it come bedtime when he'd gone to check his email and discovered his phone missing. (Yeah, apparently along with all the excellent evil planning and lots of money and crazy-ass-gunslinging and kung-fu-boxing and swordsmanship and scientific know-how and general mad computer and technology skills, came the knowledge of mastery of pick pocketing and winning every verbal argument in the history of ever, too. Showoff. ...And no, Conner was so not jealous. Even though being evil totally had some freaking major perks besides full dental. Stupid LexCorp. Gah!)
But yeah, apparently evil could be really entertaining. --Or, uh, time-intensive to thwart. He really needed rescuing from Luthor soon, because he swore he hadn't used to get those two mixed up, really. There was probably a point of no-return out there somewhere, and he'd really really not like to cross it anytime soon. Or ever. Never would be good.
Conner frowned through all the bleh stuff hanging in the closet, and finally grabbed a pair of pants and a button-down shirt at random. And sighed and put them on. He grimaced at himself in the mirror, stared longingly at his dirty laundry, and then pulled the door to his bedroom (his bedroom? ugh...) open and started trudging down the stairs. He was in a really foul mood by the time he hit the bottom, because this one was totally an uncontested Luthor win, darnit, and he looked up with a glare as he came around the corner into the kitchen and opened his mouth to sound off somehow and try to get some of his own back, up until he realized Luthor wasn't alone in the kitchen.
Then his mouth hung open as he recognized who Luthor's houseguest was.
"CLARK!!!" Conner yelled excitedly as he launched himself at his super-savior.
"Woah! Hey there, you!" Clark grinned, catching Conner in a one-armed hug as he set down his mug of coffee. He ruffled Conner's hair a little, and when Conner hugged him tightly, he gave him a full bear hug back.
When Conner didn't let go and just buried his face in Clark's chest, Clark's grin slipped into a more relaxed small smile and he deepened the hug into something more gentle, dropping his head and pulling Conner closer in, relaxing and breathing easier.
"Hey, hey," Clark said softly, rubbing Conner's back a little. "I missed you, too." It's ok, everything's ok, he tried to say without words.
Conner nodded his head against Clark's chest and nestled in a little deeper, leaning in and just enjoying the feeling of closeness, now, and Clark started gently stroking his hair again. "Conner..." he sighed, "It hasn't been that bad, has it?"
That just couldn't go uncontested. Conner poked his head up and stared at Clark, agast with disbelief.
"Not that bad? Are you serious?!"
"Um?" Clark glanced over at Lex for a moment, looking unsure. But Lex was no help, just standing there drinking his coffee and watching-while-not-watching them and trying to look casually innocent. Oh boy.
"He needs, like, a full-time something!" Conner exclaimed in disgust.
"...A full-time something?" Clark echoed.
"Yeah! Like a bodyguard, or a keeper, or a prison guard, or a babysitter, or a - a - a -" Conner stood back and started waving his hands around. "People wrangler! Or rustler. People-rustler. --A specific one, for just him. A Luthor-rustler. Do they have those? We need one of those. I get presents for Christmas, right? Can I trade them all in for one of those, and sic it on him? Please???" Conner all-but-begged.
Clark slowly looked over sideways at Lex partway through the tirade, and Lex coughed quietly and looked away. Embarassed. Oh man.
"...Why do you think he needs a full-time ...wrangler?" Clark asked lightly, ignoring Lex's silent noise of protest. Clark already knew the general answer to that question, but was hoping for specifics, in a probably-going-to-give-him-a-headache-but-still-needing-to-know-anyway way.
"He gets into trouble. Like all the time. I can't-- There are no words!" Conner pulled at his hair a little and started pacing in circles. "We couldn't go into town without something happening. At first, I thought it was me? Because I'm all alien-hybrid-mutant and stuff happens and I deal? But it's not -- it's totally him! Because we tried going to the other town?" Conner waved in the general direction of Granville. "And stuff still happened! And it wasn't after me, because he wandered off on his own," Clark caught a frown from Lex and had to stifle a smile, "and I was totally fine. But no, not him! He had to go and... argh! You just don't know!" Conner shouted in total and complete frustration, flinging his hands up -- except that Clark did, he totally did, and he was having real trouble keeping his face an expressionless calm listening mask while Conner continued to rant, gesturing all around. "He does stuff? And stuff happens and I've got to get him out of trouble. And when he doesn't do stuff? Stuff finds him. It's nuts! --And that thing with the tomatoes? I mean, what the hell?!?" Conner huffed out, finally winding down. He stood there a few moments looking totally pissed off, and breathing heavily.
Clark couldn't help it. He burst out laughing.
Conner made a righteously offended noise, and Lex exclaimed, "Clark!" with a rather hilarious amount of annoyance, and that just made it worse.
"You think this is funny???" Conner demanded almost petulantly. Lex was surely glaring at him by this point. Clark waved them both off and bent over slightly, trying to calm down enough to stop laughing so damn hard and catch his breath.
"Ahh, no-o." Clark wiped his eyes and coughed vaguely to cover another snickering half-laugh. "Sorry, I... h-hehm." He took a deep breath. "It's just that I do know. I know, firsthand." He paused a moment, collecting himself and trying not to grin. "You see, that was kind of my life from fourteen to twenty-one," Clark explained as kindly as he could.
Conner gave him the most horror-filled look he'd ever seen in his life.
Clark managed to keep it to only a wide grin this time, but barely just.
"I'm not that bad," Lex mumbled stuffily, sipping at his coffee and doing the Lex body-language-equivalent of hunching his shoulders by the way he was holding the mug, but Clark just bit his lip to help stifle his grin, glancing over at him, because he totally was.
"Does that mean that I can't get that as a present?" Conner said mournfully.
But Clark just shook his head and explained gently: "It means that you don't have to give up or trade in any presents, because Lex already has one, and he's called Superman." Because, honestly, that was pretty much his job description these days.
Conner's mouth dropped open and he started making strangled noises. Lex made an indignant sound, and Clark leaned over and gave him a one-armed half-hug as an apology. --A quick one, in case Lex felt like he might have to otherwise protest it somehow. Because he really wasn't as bad or as 'defenseless' as he used to be, really. Actually knowing not just what he was up against and fighting, but also correct and relevant information on the status of the situation and said foes at any given point, had helped a lot on that front.
But when Clark glanced back at Conner he was just standing perfectly still.
"Conner?" Clark asked, wondering what was wrong.
"You just hugged him," Conner stated without inflection.
"Ah, yes?" Clark replied.
"You just... hugged him." Conner looked like he was in shock, and his brain was stuck for a moment... until it wasn't. Then he was thinking furiously, his eyes ping-ponging between them, and Clark wasn't sure he liked what he caught flashing across Conner's face.
"Conner--" Clark reached out, and Conner took a step back.
"So, clone or shapeshifter?" Conner asked calmly.
"Huh?" Clark frowned.
"Because there is no way in hell that you are him. ...Or is it mindcontrol? That makes more sense." Conner added far too calmly, taking another sideways step back, inching his way carefully towards a clear shot to the front door. Clark had a sudden sinking feeling.
"Conner!" Lex ground out, starting towards him, but Clark grimaced, knowing better, and held out an arm and barred the way, stopping Lex in his tracks. Lex gave him a startled look, then glared and opened his mouth to -- but Clark gave him a sideways look and shook his head once, cutting him off -- Don't. Lex dithered for a moment, but then closed his mouth and with a frown backed off, sliding his hands into his pockets and stepping back to watch -- for now.
Clark turned to Conner and tried to think this through calmly. This required some very delicate handling, because these sorts of accusations never ended well for anybody, especially since it was damn near impossible to prove otherwise, and once somebody got it into their head... well, persuasion never worked on anybody smart enough to twig to the fact that what mind control actually was was persuasion at the root of it all, and Conner was crazy-smart. If he started to have doubt about the validity of the argument, thinking about changing his mind would inevitably jump immediately to "they're trying to get me too!" and a knock-down drag-out fight of epic proportions. Not good. These sorts of things were sometimes even epically bad, and the aftermath was always a mess.
So Clark took a deep breath, stepped back a little, and relaxed. He just watched as Conner inched towards the door, then inched towards it again. He didn't say a word. Conner started to look nervous.
Clark folded his arms and waited.
Finally, Conner blurted out, "You can't stop me from leaving!"
"Of course I can," Clark shrugged matter-of-factly. He could almost feel Lex's glare boring a hole through his back, but he purposefully ignored Lex, watching Conner with all of his attention. Glancing back at Lex just then would indicate that he was taking cues from him, and that would be counter-productive. So instead, Clark waited as Conner straightened self-righteously, about to yell back in knee-jerk defiance... until he froze in place and tensed as all the implications of that really hit him, and only then did Clark add, "But I won't." Which of course brought Conner's thought process to a screeching halt, like he knew it would.
"I... I..." Conner stammered nervously shifting from foot to foot. Then he straightened a bit, balled his fists, and half-asked, "I'm going to leave now..." He looked at Lex as he did so, almost as if for permission, which made Clark wonder all over again how voluntary Conner thought his stay here was.
Then Clark heard the sharp intake of breath behind him, and he closed his eyes in pain for a moment as he raised a warning hand back at Lex without looking away from Conner, because Lex was not going to like this at all. He heard Lex gritting his teeth, but otherwise saying nothing, and Clark thanked god for small miracles. He opened his eyes and said, calmly, "Then go."
Conner stared at Clark, then glanced at Lex, then was gone.
Clark let out his breath in a sigh and waited for the meltdown.
"You bastard!" Lex hissed. Yup, there it was. Clark grimaced and turned to face him. "You utter--"
Clark cut him off. "I wasn't trying to separate you two, Lex. There's no other good way to handle that."
"You ran him off!" Lex continued, irate, slamming a fist down on the kitchen table so hard it rattled.
"He'll be back."
"Like hell!" Lex snarled. "You did that on purpose--!"
"Of course I did!" Clark yelled, losing his temper. Then he grimaced, pinched the bridge of his nose, and reined it in with some effort. Started over. "Do you really think I could have convinced him that I wasn't being mind-controlled?"
"What makes you think you aren't?" Lex shot back, because he was just like that. Clark crossed his arms and gave him a look until Lex gave first and dropped his gaze.
"You could have at least tried!" Lex snarled in frustration, bracing both hands on the tabletop and leaning forward with a tired aggression, still not meeting Clark's eyes. He probably couldn't trust himself not to attack for the moment if he did.
"Lex, if I put myself on the defensive, it would've validated Conner's accusations and given him the right to judge me," he explained patiently, knowing Lex would get this if Clark put it in terms he could understand and if he'd just try to listen.
"You--"
"Confirmation bias," Clark interjected, and Lex hesitated, then glowered at him, but shut up. Clark took that as a go-ahead signal to continue.
"You saw what happened even when I offered no resistance to what he wanted, even when you disagreed with what I said and did. Trying to convince him he was wrong wouldn't have worked. Anything I said or did he'd find fault with and interpret towards me being messed-in-the-head." Clark pointed out calmly. "Not responding the way he'd expect already shook him out of it a little bit -- you know that heroes generally have a knee-jerk reaction to tackle anyone who isn't on the 'right side' for whatever reason."
Lex grumbled, but was starting to look a little pensive.
"He's a smart kid, Lex," Clark soothed, stepping closer. "He just needs some time to think without any outside pressure that he'd feel a need to dig in his heels and fight against. He'll be back."
"How are you so sure?" Lex said grumpily, collapsing back into his chair and staring at his coffee remorsefully.
"Because I'm not mind-controlled, so any argument that he could come up with to explain otherwise will end up sounding ludicrous when taken to its logical ending conclusion and eventually collapse under its own weight." Then Clark all-but-smirked as he retrieved his own coffee mug. "Besides, he's listening in right now, and that probably helps..."
"He is?" Lex asked.
"Oh my god, how did you know?!" Conner asked in horror, twelve miles away and over-utilizing his super-hearing.
"Yes, he is, and I didn't know until just now," Clark answered both of them in order, smirking into his coffee as he took a sip.
"That's sneaky of you," Lex said, looking at Clark askance with a gaze that screamed, You shouldn't be pulling a me on him, he'll get confused.
"What?" yelped Conner. Then, after thinking that through. "What?!?!?"
"Lex said, 'He is?' and then 'That's sneaky of you.' " Clark repeated.
"I heard him! I've got super-hearing!" Conner asserted shortly.
Lex tilted his head at Clark, and Clark relayed, "Conner said, 'What?' twice, and then 'I heard him! I've got super-hearing!' The first thing he said was, 'Oh my god, how did you know?' "
Lex smirked a little. "Ah, but is he using it properly?"
"Conner, Lex wants to know if you're using your super-hearing properly," Clark related.
"Oh my god, seriously? I heard him the first time! All three times!" Conner yelled, waving his arms.
Clark glanced over and smiled.
Lex stared, then blinked.
Conner slowly lowered his hands as he realized that he was standing in the living room of the farmhouse, staring the two of them in the face, then clapped his hands over his mouth. Then he realized that that was really no help at all, and super-sped out again.
Lex turned to look at Clark.
Clark grinned.
"Explanation, please?" Lex asked, when his tone actually demanded Explanation, now.
"It's an impulse control thing," Clark began after a pause, having determined that Conner was too busy pacing around a cornfield and cursing to himself from the sound of his voice and the distinctive crunching of dead stalks underfoot -- and more than likely thinking things over furiously -- to be listening in on them at the same time. "It's... well, it's really too easy for Kryptonians on Earth to translate thinking about things to doing them. Most things take almost no physical effort at all, and when you can be halfway through doing something before you've even really finished the thought... um, well, it's difficult sometimes to not do things unless you have a lot of practice at..." '...stifling your desires'? Er, that wouldn't go over well. '...not letting yourself think things in the first place'? -- probably not so much, either.
"...Well, practice at not doing. That." Clark grimaced. "Or maybe it's not a Kryptonian thing. It could be just the influence of my DNA, or maybe my DNA plus mom's upbringing, on him, though. Kara and Zod never seemed to have any trouble not, uh..." Clark had to stop and think about that for a second, though, because when had either of them really reined in their desires and not just done whatever the hell they wanted, like the canonical 500-pound gorilla escaped from the zoo? Then he realized that he'd just compared Kara and Zod -- and himself -- in the same sentence. "--Um, bad example. Maybe forget I just said that?" Clark asked, peering up at Lex.
Uh oh. Lex had an intense look on his face. One that pretty much screamed, I don't know what you weren't saying there, but I'm sure it's even worse than what you did, and I shall know it.
Clark winced, and opened his mouth to start to backpedal furiously, when Conner decided to suddenly reappear in the living room.
"Ok, so maybe I am willing to believe that you might not be totally and completely mind-controlled by Lex right now--"
Clark blinked and turned to Conner, switching gears.
"--even though it is really freaking messed up that you hugged Lex--"
"Conner--" Clark tried to interject.
"--but maybe he tricked you into it somehow that I don't know about--"
"Conner--" Clark tried again.
"--or maybe you're the one mind-controlling him because you're still breathing after sorta hugging him--"
"Conner -- CALM DOWN!" Clark yelled.
Conner stopped pacing and froze.
Lex shook his head slightly and remained silent, taking another sip of his coffee.
Clark blew out a breath and tried to recoup. "Conner," he started calmly, "I think that maybe -- just maybe -- you might have the wrong idea about some things, and we might need to back up a little, first. Before we get to talking about who might be mind-controlling whom. Ok?"
Conner looked a little worried.
Clark sighed. "Can we at least agree that I'm me, and not somebody else?"
"...Ok," Conner said warily.
"How do you know?" Lex asked, intrigued. Clark shot him a Not helping! look.
"He sounds like him," Conner said, shifting from foot-to-foot.
"And someone couldn't just record his voice and mimic him?" Lex asked, prodding.
"...It's not just his voice," Conner mumbled. "It's, ...heartbeat and, ...other things." Then he wouldn't meet Lex's gaze and added, trying not to squirm, "And he felt like him. When I hugged him earlier."
Lex got a slight smile. "That's true," he said evenly.
Conner's head shot up. "He's hugged you before???"
"We've hugged each other before, yes," Lex corrected. "And certainly better than that paltry thing he did just now," Lex added with a dismissive wave.
"I wasn't sure whether you'd get all prickly about it," Clark defended.
Lex gave him a look over his coffee mug.
"Fine, whatever. I can't win," Clark said, throwing up his hands. "Guess I might as well do what I want, then."
"Maybe you should," Lex said evenly, lowering his eyelids demurely, to the point that Clark couldn't get a good bead on what he was thinking at the moment.
Clark frowned, then shook his head and turned back to Conner. "So, regardless of mindcontrol, how much do you think you can trust of what I say?"
Conner started a little, then frowned as he thought. He glanced between Clark and Lex. "I... don't know. You don't sound like you're lying..." he trailed off. Then he bit his lip, glanced at Lex, and watched Clark intently as he asked, "Are you being mind-controlled right now?"
"Sure," Clark said.
Lex's head snapped up like it was on a string.
Conner's mouth dropped open.
"What?" Conner asked weakly. Clark could see the confusion whirling in his eyes.
"I'm being mind-controlled..." Clark stated simply with a smile...
"But-- but you said--!"
...that widened into a grin. "...depending on your definition of mind-control."
"Clark!!!" Lex growled.
"Well, mind-control is just really good persuasion and persistent, sometimes overwhelming, influence over what goes on in somebody's brain. And you are very persuasive, Lex," Clark smiled at him with a glint in his eyes.
"Clark, that is not--"
"And communication is the art of getting a concept in your brain into somebody else's head. Which is basically manipulating and controlling thought in that other person's head, to an extent. And you are very good at communicating, Lex. I mean, you make a living off of it, in fact. It's practically your job -- convincing people to do what you want."
Lex sneered at him and drew himself up, highly offended. "First of all," he spat out, "I don't spend all day just 'talking to people' -- my job involves a great deal of paperwork--"
"--which is written communication, and sometimes even more effective and wide-ranging than verbal communication, under certain circumstances," Clark pointed out.
"Oh, for heaven's sake! By your own definition, at this rate you'll be making a case for farming really being all about communicating properly with plants!" Lex ended in disgust, leaning back and folding his arms.
"I'll have you know that I am the best corn-whisperer this side of the Mississippi," Clark preened primly.
Lex, bless him, did an honest-to-god facepalm.
"You guys are weird," Conner stated in that time-honored traditional tone most teen-aged-bodied individuals used when their progenitors did things to which the only proper response was for said younger individual to fervently pray that they would never be associated with their progenitors in public, or in any other way, shape, or form, ever again.
Clark grinned.
Lex merely replied, "Well, I am a meteor-freak..."
"Hey!" Clark objected. "The proper term is 'meteor-infected' or 'metahuman' now!"
Lex performed the Lexian equivalent of rolling his eyes. Clark glared at him.
"...and Clark grew up in Smallville under a bad influence," Lex ended with a faint smirk.
"Got that backwards. Again," Clark harrumphed at him in response. Lex raised an eyebrow or two at that, but otherwise failed to respond.
Conner looked between the two of them like they were out of their freaking minds.
"...And we're getting off-topic a little," Clark said, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"What, only a little?" Lex added under his breath.
"Lex--"
"No, really? You think that telling him you're being mind-controlled by me when he already thinks you're being mind-controlled by me is an excellent way to take control of the situation and a good way to convince him that this is not the case, instead of just freaking him out?" Lex all-but-drawled.
"What! He's fine -- you're fine, right?" Clark asked, glancing at Conner. "I bet he's more fine now than he was when you did whatever without telling him about how we'd worked out that he was spending every other Christmas together with you!" Clark glared at Lex.
"Um," Conner blinked.
Clark paused, then turned back to Conner. " 'Um'?" he queried.
"Lex... kind of... did tell me about... that..." Conner trailed off, looking a little guilty.
Clark blinked at him. Then he blinked at Lex.
"Okay," Clark said evenly. "I was under the impression earlier -- from both you and him -- that you did not feel as though you were here voluntarily. Did I miss something?" he ended. What the hell is going on? he asked Lex with his eyes.
"He kidnapped me," Conner said.
"Only a little!" Lex defended, raising his hands palms-outward.
"Damnit, Lex!" Clark yelled, shooting up out of his chair.
"I couldn't get him to stay still in one place long enough to talk to him!" Lex yelled back, smacking his hands against the table, hard, and bolting upright himself.
"It's called the internet! Conner knows how to read email!"
"He's never read any of them before! And you were supposed to tell him beforehand!"
"I already said I was sorry about that, and he always reads his email!"
They glared at each other across the kitchen table for a bit, silently fuming.
"...You send me email?" Conner asked tentatively after no further outbursts seemed imminent.
They both turned as one to stare at him.
"You haven't been getting...?" both adults said simultaneously. Clark trailed off first, and got a horror-filled look as realization hit. It took Lex a little longer, with confusion being quickly beaten out by pure rage.
"That bitch--!" Lex seethed.
"I'll have a talk with her," Clark grated out.
"You think that's going to help?" Lex shot back derisively.
"I'll get him another phone. A burner," Clark said to Lex. "Conner, you're going to need to use it only for communications that don't have anything to do with hero work so it doesn't get routed through the Watchtower network and picked up. Tess and Chloe set up the League phones with software--"
"I know that," Conner said, frowning.
"No, Conner..." Clark sighed. "Look, you know how easy it is to track cellphone signals, right?"
Conner nodded.
"And how easy it is to decrypt the voice signals?"
Conner nodded.
"And how we have to have secure communications, and how all that involves adding a lot of software and sometimes some extra hardware to those phones?"
Conner nodded, more slowly.
"Well, that software works by routing everything on both ends of a call to or from one of those phones through the Watchtower computers, and doing most of the work there. The voice-changers and bouncing around signals to prevent tower and GPS traces and everything happens in those systems, as well as running checks to 'ghost' the original signals by pattern-matching that callsignal and deleting it from other people's databases and -- it's fine, Conner, this is all common knowledge stuff which Lex already knows," Clark added when Conner looked worried and glanced at Lex.
"Ok, but... what does this have to do with anything?"
"Your phone, and all the phones your friends in Young Justice use, were given to you by Watchtower, right?"
Conner nodded.
"So all that information goes through those Watchtower systems to work. Which means that all that data can and is controlled by those computers--"
"Tess wouldn't mess with my phone!" Conner yelled, horrified, backing up a step. He glanced at Lex, who met his eyes grimly, then looked away.
"Conner, it may not be Tess," Clark said very carefully. "It could be anyone in the League with access to those systems. That's also Chloe, Oliver, Lois... a lot of others, ok?"
"Interesting that you jumped right to thinking of Tess, though," Lex said thinly, staring at the ceiling.
"Hey, if it comes down to believing in Tess, who is like the greatest aunt ever and cares about me, and my evil says-he's-my-father-and-wants-me-to-join-the-dark-side you, guess whose side I pick!" Conner spat back.
Clark went still. He saw Lex look resigned as he covered up the hurt. He waited for Lex to say something, watched Lex do nothing but remain silent, and Clark felt a rising wave of anger of the sort that he rarely felt. One that he knew he had better damn well get a hold on but did not feel any desire to do so. At all.
"Who told you that?" Clark asked Conner quietly, catching his gaze and holding it.
"I--" Conner started, startled at Clark's vehemence.
"Clark..." Lex said quietly.
"Shut up, Lex," Clark said so evenly that he could use it as a carpentry level. He didn't take his eyes off of Conner. "Who told you Lex was evil? Because I know I didn't. And that isn't the sort of conclusion that you would come to on your own, which means you heard it from someone." Clark took a step towards Conner. "I want to know who."
"I-- I-- don't--" Conner gulped, looking a little like a frightened mouse, but still trying to stand tall in the face of the sudden onslaught. "I don't remember, I-- Everybody says it!" he whined, knowing he was in desperate trouble but feeling like it was completely out of the blue and he had no idea why or what he did wrong.
"Who is 'everybody'?" Clark demanded.
"Clark! It's ok!" Lex objected, starting forward.
"No, Lex!" Clark growled at Lex, who came to an abrupt halt. "It is not ok!" He turned back to Conner, glaring down at full height.
"Lex is not evil. --He is not, do not interrupt me." Clark added when Conner started to argue. "I know evil. I have fought evil. Darkseid is evil. Granny Goodness and the three prophets were evil. Lionel was evil." He heard a quick intake of breath from Lex behind him. "Lex is not."
It was so quiet that even normal human hearing could have heard a pin drop.
"But... he..." Conner said, completely uncomprehending.
"Lex is not evil. Evil hurts and kills. Preferably hurts, because killing is too quick and would end the pain and torment. It enjoys causing pain. It twists and corrupts. It lives for doing so, for controlling and subjugating and breaking down others. It does not love, or feel pure joy, or treasure simple happiness, and it cannot stand the thought that there are those who live in the light and do those things. It delights in undermining trust and laughs when it breaks apart great nations through paranoia and fear. It turns those who would otherwise live in harmony to hate and rage and murderous intent and spurns them on until they have all destroyed themselves and each other. It darkens souls and leaves nothing but death and destruction and suffering in its wake."
Conner was staring at Clark with wide, terrified eyes. Clark had no idea what Lex must be thinking of him right now, but this needed to be said. Conner could not go around thinking like he had, so wrongly.
"I have seen and fought evil. I know it. I can recognize it for what it is. And Lex is not evil. He could not be evil if he tried."
Conner swallowed shakily and glanced at Lex as Clark closed his eyes for a moment, collecting himself.
Lex was slightly pale and staring at Clark. He had his arms wrapped around himself like he was trying to hold himself together. Like he would shake apart into tiny little pieces if he let go. He looked... shocked. Like he was trying to get words out and was failing. Like he didn't know what to say.
And that scared Conner more than a little.
"You cannot go around calling people 'evil', Conner," Clark continued quietly, authoritatively. "That is not a word to be used lightly. It means something. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, sir," Conner breathed.
Clark's gaze bored into his, and Conner shivered a little himself. Finally, Clark pulled back a little, his jaw unclenched a bit, and Conner swayed and felt for all the world like he wanted to collapse a little, right where he stood. Maybe even cry a little.
"Don't do it again."
"Yes, sir. I... I'm sorry." Conner said vaguely, not sure who he should be sorry to exactly, but he still meant it. He glanced at Lex again, then away.
"Clark--" Lex started, sounding strained, and like he was trying to be angry but was having trouble for some reason.
"It is important that he knows," Clark stated firmly, rounding on Lex. "And you clearly weren't willing or able to set him straight.'
"Clark--!"
"No, Lex. You were the one who said you wanted the responsibility. If you want to be a father to him, you had damn well better step up and do it."
Lex's eyes went wide and he swayed backwards like he'd been slapped, and Conner could just feel the threat of the or else behind Clark's statement, but 'or else' what??
Then the rest of the implications of what Clark had said caught up to Conner.
"You-- he-- y-you want him to be my dad?" Conner stammered, his voice hitting the higher registers and nearly cracking at the end.
"Sure. He's always wanted kids, and he'll make a great dad," said Clark, perfectly seriously.
Lex made a frantic choking noise.
"Oh, for--" Clark said, turning to Lex and crossing his arms, looking annoyed and more than a little exasperated. "You'll be fine as long as you act like yourself, instead of worrying about what Luthors do and don't do, or whatever. And if you're not sure about doing something, just think how you'd feel if Lionel did it to you and decide accordingly."
"Don't be stupid!" Lex sputtered. "Dad could make walking down the street into an exercise in--" Lex cut off his own protest when he caught Conner's stare.
"Do I really need to do this?" Clark said to the heavens, then looked between Lex and Conner. "...Okay, apparently I do."
"Lex, you know right from wrong. Shut up, you do -- don't pretend or lie otherwise, to Conner or to yourself about it. Don't do stupid shit like kidnapping Conner, just talk to him. I know you'll listen, but you need to open up. That means no messing with him because you're afraid you'll get hurt, because you will, but you're trying to be the parent here, so suck it up and rough it out. You're also going to have to be there for him all the time, so he'll know he'll have your support when he needs it, and a big part of that is making sure that he can feel safe with you. No changing your mind -- this is all-or-nothing. You're good at that, too. You're going to make mistakes, and you had better get over that fact right now. You're not going to get do-overs, but that's not the end of the world, either. Nobody knows what they're doing, so just try and do better next time. When you screw up, apologize, maybe try to explain. Conner's smart; he may feel hurt, but I'm sure he'll get it. When you feel angry, walk away if you have to, but cool down before you do or say anything -- I don't think I need to explain why. If you think you're over your head, come talk to me or mom, because you're not alone in this and you don't have to be. Understand?"
"Conner, if he does something you don't like, tell him right away, especially how it makes you feel and why you don't like it. And when he tells you something, you have to listen to him. --You don't have to agree with him," Clark stopped Conner before he could protest. "Listening to someone is not the same as agreeing with them, or doing everything they tell you to. You have your own mind, and you can make your own decisions. If you think about it, you will realize that Lex does, in fact, already respect this, even if he hasn't ever actually come out and said it. But -- but -- listening to him does mean you have to think about what he says -- really think about it, and not just dismiss it outright because you don't like what he's saying for some nebulous reason. If you disagree, argue with him and let him know your reasons -- he'll respect you more for it, and you may even change his mind, though if you want him to change his mind, you had better be open to the possibility that you might end up changing yours. If you think through what he says and don't agree with him, and decide otherwise, that's fine; however, it does not mean that you can ignore or disobey him without consequences, either. Which sucks, but he's your dad, and you're the kid. If he does something and you really don't trust his judgment, you tell him, and me, and mom why, and we'll hash it out between us and figure something out. Got it?"
Considering how uncomfortable they both looked, Clark figured they did.
"Great. Anything else?"
"...Does this mean I have to live with him?" Conner said meekly.
Lex started. Then said, quickly, "Not if you don't want to."
Conner stared at Lex, wide-eyed, then glanced over to Clark, who just shrugged. Conner glanced back to Lex again, and really looked at him, hands slid in his pants pockets, where the tension was in his posture, how he was balanced on his feet...
"You totally didn't have anything to do with this, did you?" Conner asked Lex.
"In what reality, exactly, would I want Clark to give me a Superman lecture, tell you not to do what I say, and then make it clear that apparently he and Mrs. Kent have veto power over any parenting decisions I may make?" Lex griped, looking as pissed off as a wet cat.
Conner was a little shell-shocked at the moment, but he was pretty sure that that was a resounding 'no.'
"...Do I have to like him?" Conner asked Clark uneasily, watching Lex frown at the question.
"You don't have to like him; you do have to love him. He's family; it kind of comes with the territory. Same for him, too."
Conner and Lex both made the same uncomfortable wordless noise, and then both looked at each other, startled. When Clark grinned at the two of them and Lex glared, Conner had to fight not to glare too, because he felt embarrassed as hell that he had anything in common with Lex at all.
"I can't believe this," Conner sighed, frustrated beyond belief. "I get him as a dad for Christmas?" He ran both hands through his hair and glared at Clark. "This better not be your present to me or anything!"
Clark laughed. "No, I'm pretty sure that's Lex's present to you. By the way, what's all that under the tree over there?" And Clark nodded at the tree, raising his eyebrows.
Conner blinked at him, then looked over. Then looked down.
"Why are there... boxes?... under..." Conner frowned.
Lex stared for a moment, then looked at Clark in horror. He mouthed, 'You've never given him presents before?!'
Clark gave him an 'are you crazy?' look. Lex frowned, taking a few steps forward so he could watch.
Conner frowned and lifted a box. He stared at it for a bit. "This is... paper?" He glanced up at Clark. "Why does it have faces on it?" After tilting his head and glancing at the others boxes. "Or animals and things..." Then he rotated it and saw the bow. "Bow. Paper. Wrapping paper...?" he muttered to himself. There was a beat when he went from confused to the light going on.
"Presents!" he exclaimed brightly, grinning widely ear-to-ear.
Clark saw Lex fight the urge to smack his forehead.
'Didn't quite get around to Santa Claus and reindeer, huh?' Clark smiled.
'I thought you said he read up on the basics of the holiday last year!' Lex silently hissed at him. Then he looked like he wanted to hit something when Clark just nodded, and Lex realized that 'read up on' meant 'text' and not 'pictures with text' or 'videos'.
"Hey!" Conner complained indignantly, "This one doesn't have my name on it!" He turned and glared at Lex, then held it out to him like Lex getting a present should be a criminal offense.
Lex blinked down at the purple-ribboned present that he did not wrap, with the tag that had his name written on it in Clark's handwriting, and glanced at Clark as he took it from Conner.
Clark had an innocent look.
"Thought you didn't leave the house last night," Lex muttered.
"I didn't."
"You didn't have this with you last night," Lex accused quietly. "Or those," he added, seeing one or two other interlopers snuggled within the rest.
"I might have called in a favor for special delivery."
Lex stared at him.
"The League--" he began.
"Nope," said Clark.
"...Not the League?" Lex said, then became distracted as Conner finished tugging off the last bit of tape from a present that did have his name on it and started to slide the box out of the paper with a very intent and focused look on his face.
"Were you rudely awakened in the middle of the night by a bunch of self-righteous leather-clad individuals yelling at you about villainy and thwarting and shuffling Conner off and otherwise acting like jerks?" Clark asked quietly.
"...No."
"Well, there you go."
Lex frowned, but clearly decided to table the discussion for the moment when Conner made a happy noise as he finally got the box open and saw what was inside. Lex and Clark glanced at each other, then in unified agreement settled down on the couch for the interim.
~*~*~*~*~*~
After presents, which Conner was well-pleased with, Lex made pancakes for breakfast, and Clark squeezed orange juice from some oranges. Lex and Clark ate leisurely as Conner chattered away happily in-between mouthfuls, making the appropriate comments here and there, but otherwise steering the conversation away from sensitive topics and keeping things light and more-or-less pleasant.
Despite, or maybe because of Clark's earlier equal-treatment-all-around lecture, Conner was no longer worried about Clark being dangerously torqued-in-the-head. Other than the lack of nemesis-fighting, Clark was acting pretty normally and otherwise like himself.
Besides, if Lex wasn't doing overtly ev-- bad -- things, then Conner guessed it sort of made sense that Clark wouldn't be fighting him to try and stop those e-- bad things that weren't happening. Because it was hard to fight something that didn't exist. Didn't make it any less weird, nor did it explain Lex's somewhat good (or at least not overly bad) behavior. Superman was supposed to get along with people. Lex wasn't.
Conner finally sighed heavily, and admitted to Clark, "Ok, so maybe you aren't completely brainwashed, but--"
"Brainwashed?" someone echoed from the front door in a horror-filled tone.
Conner turned in his chair and looked towards the living room, eyes lighting up, recognizing Tim -- well, Robin, since he was in costume -- and his other friends as they filed in. "You guys..." Conner breathed, feeling a hella lot of relief. People in his corner. Thank god. And Tim. Tim was awesome. Tim always helped everything make sense -- Tim was great at people. Tim could help with the whole Lex-Clark thing, which wasn't making all that much sense anymore, because they were almost acting like they could get along without killing each other.
And had been. For awhile now. And there had been presents for Lex. From Clark, Conner was pretty sure, which Lex had not expected, Conner was definitely sure, and that was a little mind-bendy.
But what were they doing here? And why did they look so wary and on-edge?
"Are you ok?" Tim asked. Conner nodded, and then he remembered that he'd been kidnapped and missing for a little over two weeks, and had been praying for somebody to rescue him for most of that time. It almost seemed a little weird to think about now, because Clark was here, so of course he was fine and safe and stuff.
"Holy crap, is that Luthor?" said Mia, unslinging her bow and frowning as she slipped into a fighting pose.
"...Uh, yeah," Conner said, derailed a bit. "He--"
"What? Luthor brainwashed Superman?!" a third head popped in from the hallway, eyes wide. Eyesockets, rather, as Jaime was fully encased in his alien Blue Beetle machinery at the moment.
"Um, that, well, yes, sort-of? But-not-really -- because Lex was talking and talking is, um -- that is, Lex is maybe the one who, um -- no wait, I mean," Conner flailed a little mentally as he reran Clark's confusing conversation from before, then realized that that whole crazy conversation hadn't been what his friends had been asking about. "That's not really--"
"Oh my god! Luthor did--!" Cassie gasped. She instinctively grabbed at her lasso.
"--what I--"
"I'll call for backup!" Tim yelled, turning to run.
"--said."
"No time, we have to do something now!" said Bart, grabbing Robin at super-speed and pulling him back. "We can take him together!"
"...Guys?" Conner said, starting to get a little worried. He hadn't been this bad before, had he?
Lex glanced back-and-forth between all the young teens, watching the entire scene unfold from his vantage point at the kitchen table in a little shock and awe, like he was watching a train wreck in slow-motion without a Superman around to stop it from happening. Because Superman was the train wreck, just waiting to happen.
"Now just wait a minute--" Clark began, getting up from the kitchen table and heading towards them.
"Quick, get him!!!" Mia yelled, voice filled with fiery fervor and fighting fury. Clark came to a screeching halt as he realized his mistake.
"Uh oh," said Conner, wincing, as the entirety of Young Justice, sans one, launched themselves bodily at Superman across the room.
Clark sighed and braced himself.
~*~*~*~*~*~
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