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FIC: DCFic - Fatherhood - Lex - PG
The sequel to Awakening, Lex’s POV. The next will be from Clark’s, which will then directly lead into a larger story.
Lex stood outside the tank and watched the boy fight the sedatives being piped into both his oxygen and the fluid surrounding him.
The following spoilers are in affect for this fic: Teen Titans (entire run), Infinite Crisis 1-7 and the tag line for 52: Week 22.
TITLE: Fatherhood
SERIES: Resurrection
RATING: PG.
PAIRING: Hints of Clark/Lois, past Clark/Lex, Conner/Cassie
AUTHOR: Melanie
SPOILERS: The entire current Teen Titans run, Infinite Crisis 1-7, Tag line for 52: Week 22
DISCLAIMER: "Good news, sir. Your son Kon-El didn't die in the Crisis after all."
Fatherhood
Lex stood outside the tank and watched the boy fight the sedatives being piped into both his oxygen and the fluid surrounding him.
He thrashed and fought and the expression on his face was one that he recognized as being one of Clark’s when he’d been angry at Lex.
Superman didn’t allow his anger at Lex to show on his face, but Clark he’d known when the boy had been too young to mask every emotion.
Possibly allowing the alien access to his son had been a mistake. Conner had assimilated too many of Clark and Superman’s habits and mannerisms. Though with time he was positive that he could remove all traces of them, remove the triple identities of Conner and Kon-El and Superboy until all that remained was Conner.
His son.
Loyal only to him.
Not those that had tossed him aside like so much garbage when he’d been grievously wounded. When those that should have been sworn to protect him had allowed him to be murdered.
His son, but only his now. He would not share the boy with Superman or the rest of the do-gooders that Superman had gotten him involved with.
He felt something long buried regret twinge and smothered it swiftly. Conner should have been Clark’s as well but Clark had treated him as an annoying younger brother. Superman as an unwanted sidekick that he’d been saddled with.
It took only minutes for unconsciousness to take him but Conner fought for every single one of them. His son was a fighter.
It would be moments more while they confirmed that he was, indeed, unconscious. A drugged slumber that he would remain in for 8-10 hours. It gave them enough time to expose him to the sun. To allow his body to heal and regenerate and he’d never been more thankful that his son was part alien as when he’d learned that Superman had managed to get him killed.
Or so he thought.
He hadn’t known that his people had snatched the body, exchanging it for one that had been made specifically for that purpose. He’d always had a contingency plan to snatch Conner back to him some day. It had gratified something within him that Clark continued to care for the boy even after finding out half of him was Lex.
They’d had the body back to his private labs hours after the fight had been over. Even Superman had no inkling that the labs that they occupied even existed.
They’d learned their lessons from Superman’s ‘death’ and resurrection years before. Superman couldn’t be killed, he wasn’t human. The thought had been that Conner being half-Kryptonian, fashioned in Superman’s image would be the same.
It had taken a bit longer, because he wasn’t fully an alien, only 50% of one. It had taken weeks of Conner’s body being kept in a stasis tube, sunlight pouring over him at every possible second of the day, before they’d managed to relight a spark of life in Conner’s body. They’d kept going when most others would have given up, failure had not been an option. Because if they failed and Lex found out that they’d failed there would be hell to pay.
When Conner had been breathing on his own they’d finally notified him, secure in their belief that Conner was/would recover with time, they’d made the phone call that had left him scrambling to his car, the heart that everyone swore he didn’t have in his throat.
"Good news, sir. Your son Kon-El didn't die in the Crisis after all."
He’d thought his son dead for six months.
He’d wanted to kill Superman, but killing him wasn’t worth killing Clark.
Maybe in a few years he’d feel differently. But he still held out hope that Clark would regain his senses, leave Lois and return to him. It was a futile hope but sometimes it was the only thing that kept him from unleashing his entire supply of Kryptonite on Superman.
Exposure to the sun slowly healed his body, long hours under the sun’s rays while Conner remained in what the doctors called a ‘forced unconscious state’. He’d known it for what it was.
A coma.
That Superman and the rest of his ilk had put him in.
When they’d determined that Conner’s body was healing faster and faster and waking moments were imminent they’d put him in the tank, drugging him when they needed to take him out for any extended period of time. He’d hated to have to make that order, but he knew that the moment that Conner was free from the tank and conscious he would attempt to flee, which would force Lex to have his security detail stop him and then he’d get hurt again and they’d be back where they started.
“We can begin now Mr. Luthor,” Kate Marris wasn’t looking at him, intent on the panel in front of her, he toyed with the idea of nodding at her instead of giving her a verbal replay but the drugs would only keep Conner out for 8 hours and the more time that he spent in the direct sunlight the faster he healed.
“Go ahead.”
She pressed several buttons and the fluid drained from the tank, Conner falling limply to the floor as it did so. Valves opened at the top and warm water fell onto the boys still body, washing the remaining fluid away.
When the cycle was completed the tank itself lifted away, leaving only the platform and Conner exposed and Kate and two others moved forward. Lifting Conner’s body easily onto a stretcher.
The stretcher would be wheeled to an enclosed area, a protected area where they could be assured that the sun was the only thing seeing Conner.
Lex thought it only a matter of time before the Justice League began watching him again; right now they were licking their wounds. Right now they had no idea that there was any reason that they should be watching him.
Hopefully by the time they realized they should there would be no need to expose Conner to direct sunlight, hopefully by the time the Justice League began watching him again Conner would be healed and healthy and standing beside him where he belonged.
******************************************************************************
The first time that Conner was awake for any extended period of time outside of the tank Lex realized that he’d forgotten how surly teen-agers could be.
It was almost enough to order the doctors to put him back in the tank so that they wouldn’t have to listen to his anger.
As it was Lex avoided the room, his best course of action seemed to be to allow Conner to vent his anger before he finally forced the boy to sit down with him.
So instead he was forced to watch his son from the camera feeds in his room.
The room had been designed specifically for Conner, and much time and thought had been spent on the set-up.
Two rooms, a bedroom and a bathroom, the walls in both were comprised of several layers. The first a soft padded wall like the ones he remembered from his one and only time spent in psychiatric care, so the boy wouldn’t hurt himself when he tried to punch his way out.
They were also pressure sensitive nodules embedded within them. The first time Conner punched the wall it signaled the attack and the steel wall layer behind it was raised. The wall it protected Conner from under normal circumstances was laced with Kryptonite.
Not enough to make the boy sick or kill him, but enough to keep him where he was if he touched it, enough to deter thoughts of escape.
Though where he would go if he did escape Lex had no clue. Everyone that Conner had cared about thought him dead. It had been six months since he’d gotten the phone call. It had been a year since ‘Conner’ had been buried and all those he’d cared about had moved on.
He had the pictures to prove it and he didn’t want to harm the boy but if it came down to it, a broken heart wouldn’t kill him.
There was a final layer behind the Kryptonite laced wall, and it was there not so much as a deterrent for Conner figuring out where he was but because it shielded the boy from Superman’s x-ray vision.
Which was undoubtedly needed, especially with Superman back in the air, patrolling Metropolis and the world. He knew it was only a matter of time before the penthouse became part of Superman’s daily routine once again.
Part of him was looking forward to it. Part of him was looking forward to the moment when he could show Conner to the world and introduce them to his son. He had grand plans for how that would happen; he could already see them unfolding in his mind.
There would be a party and a grand entrance and he would get wonderful pictures of Superman and Batman and Wonder Woman looking shocked and dismayed as Conner took his place beside him.
It would be a while before that happened.
First Conner would have to accept that Lex was his father, first Lex would have to break him so that the minute they let him out of the room he didn’t try to run.
Lex wondered from which of them Conner had got his temper. And his ability to stay angry.
Because he stayed angry for days, fuming and snarling at nothing. Throwing things and Lex figured that he would stop tossing his dinner trays when he realized that they wouldn’t be replaced.
He hoped that would be soon, because if not they would need to drug him and put him back in the tank so he didn’t starve himself. Plus there was the fact that he hadn’t been exposed to the sun in the three days he’d been in the room.
“I didn’t think he would stay this angry for this long,” Dr. Marris stood next to him. Clipboard in one hand as she checked off the instruments that displayed Conner's vital signs.
“He did actually eat something this morning,” Lex murmured.
“Two slices of bacon and a piece of toast, the kitchen staff told me. They were quite pleased that he finally deigned to ingest something.”
“I think he thought it was going to be drugged, he went directly for the foods that it would be hard to lace with something.”
“Dr. Harville has suggested that you take his breakfast tray in tomorrow morning and attempt to converse with him.”
Lex smirked.
“Am I to hold his tray hostage until he interacts with me?”
******************************************************************************
Conner was on the opposite side of the room when the door opened and he would have skittered back further if he hadn’t already been pressed against the wall.
He’d struck the wall twice that morning, two subsequent exposures to Kryptonite and he was warily eyeing the door, hunched slightly.
Mercy entered first, glanced around and then stood aside as Lex passed her. She shot him a disapproving look but he still waved her from the room.
“Superman is so totally going to kick your ass,” Conner stated emphatically. Lex observed that he was still angry and wondered if this shouldn’t have waited a few more days.
“Is he,” he set the tray down instead. Righting the chairs and then sitting in one of them.
“How long are you planning on holding me hostage?” Conner stayed at the wall and this wasn’t going exactly as Lex had planned. Not that he’d thought that Conner would welcome him with open arms but he thought there’d be less blatant hostility.
“I’m not holding you hostage.”
Conner snorted, rolled his eyes (definitely something he’d learned from Clark) and stared at him with disbelief etched into every inch of his face.
“I’m not, you are my son. And as you can’t be trusted to take care of yourself, I’m taking care of you for you.”
“You’ve known about me for how many years? Don’t even tell me that I’m here because you suddenly felt the urge to play daddy,” Conner sneered sarcastically.
“I’m here because you seem bound and determined to get yourself killed playing the hero, which of course I can’t allow to happen.”
“Of course not. I’m your weapon, I get myself killed you don’t having anything to use against Superman. You don’t have something that you can program to hurt my friends, to destroy people that I care about."
Lex smiled. “You are not my weapon. You are my son, mine and Clark’s.” He ignored the sputtering coming from Conner’s mouth.
“I know that Clark Kent is Superman, Conner.”
Conner stared at him with wide open, horror-filled eyes.
“You can’t…”
“I’ve known for a number of years, but it amuses me to see him put on the show. You have to wonder though. Which of the two is the mask that he wears. Is Clark Kent a mask to hide Superman, or a Superman a mask to hide Clark Kent. Or is he someone else altogether.”
Conner’s mouth snapped shot, lips drawing into a thin line and he resolutely did not say a word.
Lex pulled an envelope out from under the tray that he’d brought into the room. Tossed it across the table.
“They’ll rescue me,” Conner whispered, arms crossing over his chest. A defensive posture. “They won’t leave me here.” He repeated it, a mantra that Lex had heard him repeating over and over again for days.
“They would have to know that there was a you to rescue,” Lex said quietly. “Right now they believe you dead. They’ve buried you. It’s been a year, they’ve moved on with their lives,” he nodded at the envelope and Conner moved forward slowly. One step at a time, drawn to the table and to the information that Lex had hoped that he would not have to impart.
Conner’s hand was shaking as he picked it up and it struck Lex suddenly that this was his seventeen year old son. That Conner should be sitting on a beach somewhere enjoying his summer vacation, although looking at his report cards he might have been spending his summer vacation in summer school.
Tutors, Lex decided. They would start immediately. Lex wasn’t stupid, neither was Clark (though sometimes he acted the role of bumbling baboon to well). Their son would learn everything he needed to in order to do them both proud.
Conner flipped the envelope open, pictures spilling out on the table and he stopped. For a moment Lex thought he might have stopped breathing.
He should have buried that picture further; although if anything was going to start breaking Conner, to allow Lex to mold him to his will it would be the sight of the two people that he cared about the most passionately kissing.
It had taken some doing to get it. The two were very much not together although the picture would beg to differ. Conner wouldn’t know the difference.
Conner covered his face with his hand, the other flipping the picture over so he could no longer see it. Though Lex was sure the image of the Robin and Wonder Girl were imprinted in his mind.
“They’ve moved on with their lives. Don’t you think it’s time you did the same?”
******************************************************************************
“Do you really think you can change his loyalties… sir?” Mercy asked once they were once more ensconced in the video room watching Conner systematically destroy a chair.
He wouldn’t want to be either Robin or Wonder Girl when they found out Conner was alive. And honestly he wasn’t sure whose betrayal had made his son this furious. He would have to make sure that Conner’s first lesson was that girls were fickle, he knew this from experience. All of his ex-wives had told him they loved him right before they tried to murder him.
Of course the lesson after that would be trust no one, that way you couldn’t be betrayed. He wasn’t sure that particular lesson would take; Conner seemed to take Superman’s lead as to where to place his loyalties.
Hence his relationships with the current Robin and Wonder Girl.
But Clark wasn’t romantically interested in either Batman or Wonder Woman, betrayal couldn’t have come from that avenue the way that it had for Conner.
“There is no doubt in my mind that Conner will stand beside me, I wouldn’t have started this if I didn’t believe that would be the inevitable outcome,” Lex stated. His tone brooked no disagreement but he was sure that a glance at Mercy’s face would show her disagreement.
“When do you want him moved to his private rooms?” she finally asked.
“Give him today and tonight to vent his anger, make sure that the tutors are ready to begin with him tomorrow. Double check all their backgrounds,” he pressed a hand to the monitor where Conner was steadily destroying every belonging in his room “I don’t want Superman or any of the others to get wind of what we have here.”
“Yes sir.”
“At least not until I’m ready for them to know.”
******************************************************************************
Lex stood outside the tank and watched the boy fight the sedatives being piped into both his oxygen and the fluid surrounding him.
The following spoilers are in affect for this fic: Teen Titans (entire run), Infinite Crisis 1-7 and the tag line for 52: Week 22.
TITLE: Fatherhood
SERIES: Resurrection
RATING: PG.
PAIRING: Hints of Clark/Lois, past Clark/Lex, Conner/Cassie
AUTHOR: Melanie
SPOILERS: The entire current Teen Titans run, Infinite Crisis 1-7, Tag line for 52: Week 22
DISCLAIMER: "Good news, sir. Your son Kon-El didn't die in the Crisis after all."
Fatherhood
Lex stood outside the tank and watched the boy fight the sedatives being piped into both his oxygen and the fluid surrounding him.
He thrashed and fought and the expression on his face was one that he recognized as being one of Clark’s when he’d been angry at Lex.
Superman didn’t allow his anger at Lex to show on his face, but Clark he’d known when the boy had been too young to mask every emotion.
Possibly allowing the alien access to his son had been a mistake. Conner had assimilated too many of Clark and Superman’s habits and mannerisms. Though with time he was positive that he could remove all traces of them, remove the triple identities of Conner and Kon-El and Superboy until all that remained was Conner.
His son.
Loyal only to him.
Not those that had tossed him aside like so much garbage when he’d been grievously wounded. When those that should have been sworn to protect him had allowed him to be murdered.
His son, but only his now. He would not share the boy with Superman or the rest of the do-gooders that Superman had gotten him involved with.
He felt something long buried regret twinge and smothered it swiftly. Conner should have been Clark’s as well but Clark had treated him as an annoying younger brother. Superman as an unwanted sidekick that he’d been saddled with.
It took only minutes for unconsciousness to take him but Conner fought for every single one of them. His son was a fighter.
It would be moments more while they confirmed that he was, indeed, unconscious. A drugged slumber that he would remain in for 8-10 hours. It gave them enough time to expose him to the sun. To allow his body to heal and regenerate and he’d never been more thankful that his son was part alien as when he’d learned that Superman had managed to get him killed.
Or so he thought.
He hadn’t known that his people had snatched the body, exchanging it for one that had been made specifically for that purpose. He’d always had a contingency plan to snatch Conner back to him some day. It had gratified something within him that Clark continued to care for the boy even after finding out half of him was Lex.
They’d had the body back to his private labs hours after the fight had been over. Even Superman had no inkling that the labs that they occupied even existed.
They’d learned their lessons from Superman’s ‘death’ and resurrection years before. Superman couldn’t be killed, he wasn’t human. The thought had been that Conner being half-Kryptonian, fashioned in Superman’s image would be the same.
It had taken a bit longer, because he wasn’t fully an alien, only 50% of one. It had taken weeks of Conner’s body being kept in a stasis tube, sunlight pouring over him at every possible second of the day, before they’d managed to relight a spark of life in Conner’s body. They’d kept going when most others would have given up, failure had not been an option. Because if they failed and Lex found out that they’d failed there would be hell to pay.
When Conner had been breathing on his own they’d finally notified him, secure in their belief that Conner was/would recover with time, they’d made the phone call that had left him scrambling to his car, the heart that everyone swore he didn’t have in his throat.
"Good news, sir. Your son Kon-El didn't die in the Crisis after all."
He’d thought his son dead for six months.
He’d wanted to kill Superman, but killing him wasn’t worth killing Clark.
Maybe in a few years he’d feel differently. But he still held out hope that Clark would regain his senses, leave Lois and return to him. It was a futile hope but sometimes it was the only thing that kept him from unleashing his entire supply of Kryptonite on Superman.
Exposure to the sun slowly healed his body, long hours under the sun’s rays while Conner remained in what the doctors called a ‘forced unconscious state’. He’d known it for what it was.
A coma.
That Superman and the rest of his ilk had put him in.
When they’d determined that Conner’s body was healing faster and faster and waking moments were imminent they’d put him in the tank, drugging him when they needed to take him out for any extended period of time. He’d hated to have to make that order, but he knew that the moment that Conner was free from the tank and conscious he would attempt to flee, which would force Lex to have his security detail stop him and then he’d get hurt again and they’d be back where they started.
“We can begin now Mr. Luthor,” Kate Marris wasn’t looking at him, intent on the panel in front of her, he toyed with the idea of nodding at her instead of giving her a verbal replay but the drugs would only keep Conner out for 8 hours and the more time that he spent in the direct sunlight the faster he healed.
“Go ahead.”
She pressed several buttons and the fluid drained from the tank, Conner falling limply to the floor as it did so. Valves opened at the top and warm water fell onto the boys still body, washing the remaining fluid away.
When the cycle was completed the tank itself lifted away, leaving only the platform and Conner exposed and Kate and two others moved forward. Lifting Conner’s body easily onto a stretcher.
The stretcher would be wheeled to an enclosed area, a protected area where they could be assured that the sun was the only thing seeing Conner.
Lex thought it only a matter of time before the Justice League began watching him again; right now they were licking their wounds. Right now they had no idea that there was any reason that they should be watching him.
Hopefully by the time they realized they should there would be no need to expose Conner to direct sunlight, hopefully by the time the Justice League began watching him again Conner would be healed and healthy and standing beside him where he belonged.
The first time that Conner was awake for any extended period of time outside of the tank Lex realized that he’d forgotten how surly teen-agers could be.
It was almost enough to order the doctors to put him back in the tank so that they wouldn’t have to listen to his anger.
As it was Lex avoided the room, his best course of action seemed to be to allow Conner to vent his anger before he finally forced the boy to sit down with him.
So instead he was forced to watch his son from the camera feeds in his room.
The room had been designed specifically for Conner, and much time and thought had been spent on the set-up.
Two rooms, a bedroom and a bathroom, the walls in both were comprised of several layers. The first a soft padded wall like the ones he remembered from his one and only time spent in psychiatric care, so the boy wouldn’t hurt himself when he tried to punch his way out.
They were also pressure sensitive nodules embedded within them. The first time Conner punched the wall it signaled the attack and the steel wall layer behind it was raised. The wall it protected Conner from under normal circumstances was laced with Kryptonite.
Not enough to make the boy sick or kill him, but enough to keep him where he was if he touched it, enough to deter thoughts of escape.
Though where he would go if he did escape Lex had no clue. Everyone that Conner had cared about thought him dead. It had been six months since he’d gotten the phone call. It had been a year since ‘Conner’ had been buried and all those he’d cared about had moved on.
He had the pictures to prove it and he didn’t want to harm the boy but if it came down to it, a broken heart wouldn’t kill him.
There was a final layer behind the Kryptonite laced wall, and it was there not so much as a deterrent for Conner figuring out where he was but because it shielded the boy from Superman’s x-ray vision.
Which was undoubtedly needed, especially with Superman back in the air, patrolling Metropolis and the world. He knew it was only a matter of time before the penthouse became part of Superman’s daily routine once again.
Part of him was looking forward to it. Part of him was looking forward to the moment when he could show Conner to the world and introduce them to his son. He had grand plans for how that would happen; he could already see them unfolding in his mind.
There would be a party and a grand entrance and he would get wonderful pictures of Superman and Batman and Wonder Woman looking shocked and dismayed as Conner took his place beside him.
It would be a while before that happened.
First Conner would have to accept that Lex was his father, first Lex would have to break him so that the minute they let him out of the room he didn’t try to run.
Lex wondered from which of them Conner had got his temper. And his ability to stay angry.
Because he stayed angry for days, fuming and snarling at nothing. Throwing things and Lex figured that he would stop tossing his dinner trays when he realized that they wouldn’t be replaced.
He hoped that would be soon, because if not they would need to drug him and put him back in the tank so he didn’t starve himself. Plus there was the fact that he hadn’t been exposed to the sun in the three days he’d been in the room.
“I didn’t think he would stay this angry for this long,” Dr. Marris stood next to him. Clipboard in one hand as she checked off the instruments that displayed Conner's vital signs.
“He did actually eat something this morning,” Lex murmured.
“Two slices of bacon and a piece of toast, the kitchen staff told me. They were quite pleased that he finally deigned to ingest something.”
“I think he thought it was going to be drugged, he went directly for the foods that it would be hard to lace with something.”
“Dr. Harville has suggested that you take his breakfast tray in tomorrow morning and attempt to converse with him.”
Lex smirked.
“Am I to hold his tray hostage until he interacts with me?”
Conner was on the opposite side of the room when the door opened and he would have skittered back further if he hadn’t already been pressed against the wall.
He’d struck the wall twice that morning, two subsequent exposures to Kryptonite and he was warily eyeing the door, hunched slightly.
Mercy entered first, glanced around and then stood aside as Lex passed her. She shot him a disapproving look but he still waved her from the room.
“Superman is so totally going to kick your ass,” Conner stated emphatically. Lex observed that he was still angry and wondered if this shouldn’t have waited a few more days.
“Is he,” he set the tray down instead. Righting the chairs and then sitting in one of them.
“How long are you planning on holding me hostage?” Conner stayed at the wall and this wasn’t going exactly as Lex had planned. Not that he’d thought that Conner would welcome him with open arms but he thought there’d be less blatant hostility.
“I’m not holding you hostage.”
Conner snorted, rolled his eyes (definitely something he’d learned from Clark) and stared at him with disbelief etched into every inch of his face.
“I’m not, you are my son. And as you can’t be trusted to take care of yourself, I’m taking care of you for you.”
“You’ve known about me for how many years? Don’t even tell me that I’m here because you suddenly felt the urge to play daddy,” Conner sneered sarcastically.
“I’m here because you seem bound and determined to get yourself killed playing the hero, which of course I can’t allow to happen.”
“Of course not. I’m your weapon, I get myself killed you don’t having anything to use against Superman. You don’t have something that you can program to hurt my friends, to destroy people that I care about."
Lex smiled. “You are not my weapon. You are my son, mine and Clark’s.” He ignored the sputtering coming from Conner’s mouth.
“I know that Clark Kent is Superman, Conner.”
Conner stared at him with wide open, horror-filled eyes.
“You can’t…”
“I’ve known for a number of years, but it amuses me to see him put on the show. You have to wonder though. Which of the two is the mask that he wears. Is Clark Kent a mask to hide Superman, or a Superman a mask to hide Clark Kent. Or is he someone else altogether.”
Conner’s mouth snapped shot, lips drawing into a thin line and he resolutely did not say a word.
Lex pulled an envelope out from under the tray that he’d brought into the room. Tossed it across the table.
“They’ll rescue me,” Conner whispered, arms crossing over his chest. A defensive posture. “They won’t leave me here.” He repeated it, a mantra that Lex had heard him repeating over and over again for days.
“They would have to know that there was a you to rescue,” Lex said quietly. “Right now they believe you dead. They’ve buried you. It’s been a year, they’ve moved on with their lives,” he nodded at the envelope and Conner moved forward slowly. One step at a time, drawn to the table and to the information that Lex had hoped that he would not have to impart.
Conner’s hand was shaking as he picked it up and it struck Lex suddenly that this was his seventeen year old son. That Conner should be sitting on a beach somewhere enjoying his summer vacation, although looking at his report cards he might have been spending his summer vacation in summer school.
Tutors, Lex decided. They would start immediately. Lex wasn’t stupid, neither was Clark (though sometimes he acted the role of bumbling baboon to well). Their son would learn everything he needed to in order to do them both proud.
Conner flipped the envelope open, pictures spilling out on the table and he stopped. For a moment Lex thought he might have stopped breathing.
He should have buried that picture further; although if anything was going to start breaking Conner, to allow Lex to mold him to his will it would be the sight of the two people that he cared about the most passionately kissing.
It had taken some doing to get it. The two were very much not together although the picture would beg to differ. Conner wouldn’t know the difference.
Conner covered his face with his hand, the other flipping the picture over so he could no longer see it. Though Lex was sure the image of the Robin and Wonder Girl were imprinted in his mind.
“They’ve moved on with their lives. Don’t you think it’s time you did the same?”
“Do you really think you can change his loyalties… sir?” Mercy asked once they were once more ensconced in the video room watching Conner systematically destroy a chair.
He wouldn’t want to be either Robin or Wonder Girl when they found out Conner was alive. And honestly he wasn’t sure whose betrayal had made his son this furious. He would have to make sure that Conner’s first lesson was that girls were fickle, he knew this from experience. All of his ex-wives had told him they loved him right before they tried to murder him.
Of course the lesson after that would be trust no one, that way you couldn’t be betrayed. He wasn’t sure that particular lesson would take; Conner seemed to take Superman’s lead as to where to place his loyalties.
Hence his relationships with the current Robin and Wonder Girl.
But Clark wasn’t romantically interested in either Batman or Wonder Woman, betrayal couldn’t have come from that avenue the way that it had for Conner.
“There is no doubt in my mind that Conner will stand beside me, I wouldn’t have started this if I didn’t believe that would be the inevitable outcome,” Lex stated. His tone brooked no disagreement but he was sure that a glance at Mercy’s face would show her disagreement.
“When do you want him moved to his private rooms?” she finally asked.
“Give him today and tonight to vent his anger, make sure that the tutors are ready to begin with him tomorrow. Double check all their backgrounds,” he pressed a hand to the monitor where Conner was steadily destroying every belonging in his room “I don’t want Superman or any of the others to get wind of what we have here.”
“Yes sir.”
“At least not until I’m ready for them to know.”
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:)
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I'm even more interested in how you'll write Clark's side of the story.
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Still intriguing, absolutely.
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"though sometimes he acted the role of bumbling baboon to well"
to should be too
http://www.wsu.edu/~brians/errors/to.html