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Chapter Text

“Mom said-”

“Then go back to your mother!” Superman snapped. “I didn’t ask him to drop you in my lap like some lost puppy!”

Lex didn’t think his ex would say something so cruel. He knew Conner would call him after arguing with his father the moment he checked the news and saw the headline. “Breaking News: Kryptonian Feud.” Not something about the police being called to one of his company’s labs or the young heroes that had broken in. Just his ex yelling at their son in the street, in uniform, in the middle of a Friday afternoon. He ordered his driver to go faster.

Two of Conner’s friends, the apprentices of the Flash and Green Arrow, he couldn’t remember their names at the moment, were trying to defend their teammate by the time he arrived. None of them noticed the billionaire approach amidst the chaos of press and police and shouting. “Conner?” Lex softly calls as he approaches the boy. “Are you hurt?”

“I-I’m sorry,” he stammered. “I told them-”

A dismissive wave of his hand stops the explanation before it starts. “Don’t apologize, just answer. Are you hurt?” Conner shakes his head, silver eyes dropping their gaze to the ground. Lex breathes a sigh of relief as he pulls his child into his arms. “Good. Now, let’s go home. You can tell me what happened in the car.”

He expected Clark to be the one to protest. His most public enemy trying to take his child in front of other heroes and the press? Surely, he’d have words about that. Or at least a punch or two. But instead, a yellow-clad speedster zips over and grabs Conner’s arm. All he catches of the boy’s quick rambling is, “…villain…stranger danger…second location…” before Tim, the current Robin, materializes by his side and calls shotgun. If he didn’t know for certain that the boy isn’t a metahuman, he’d assume the kid could teleport with how stealthy Batman has trained him to be.

“Neither of you have survival instincts,” a bored looking girl leaning on her bow proclaims. That doesn’t stop her from following the boys into the vehicle.

Only when other heroes’ sidekicks start to pile into the limo the supposed villain had arrived in does Superman protest. “Lex,” the warning in his tone almost hurts. That word used to be uttered with joy and pleasure. There was a time when he longed to hear Clark say his name.

But now he simply sighs and turns around. “I didn’t come here for a fight, Kal. Don’t start one.” Lex keeps his voice quiet as to not be overheard by the press. This isn’t a public matter. They don’t need to be involved. “I am only here to take Conner home.”

He doesn’t listen to the Kryptonian’s protest as he joins the young heroes and instructs his driver to take them home. Artemis is the only one that seems to be on edge, despite the air of calmness clinging to her. Her eyes keep darting between the sunroof, door, and Lex himself, likely trying to decide if she’d survive jumping from the moving vehicle or if she could take the supposed villain in a fight. The suspicion in her eyes falters when Conner decides to lay across the seat, resting his head in his parent’s lap and closing his eyes. The young hybrid visibly relaxes when Lex rests a hand on his chest, partially out of habit, partially to more easily catch him if the driver has to slam on the breaks.

His friend finally mirrors his calmness when Tim peels off his domino mask and slumps in his seat, leaning slightly against their host. Kid Flash’s nerves also seem to ease at the display of complete trust. This isn’t the first time the detective has visited this particular billionaire. It’s not even the first time this week. He had slept over from Sunday to Tuesday and was over for lunch just yesterday. He’d become a regular guest since he and Conner had gotten close.

Tim knows how little Lex expects of him, unlike just about every other adult in the kid’s life who expect absolute perfection even on his bad days. He can breathe in this man’s presence without worrying if he’s made some mistake or failed in some way to live up to the reputation of Robin set forth by his brothers. This trust is like a beacon of safety to his teammates. If Robin is comfortable, then they can relax, too.

“So, what happened?” Lex finally asks once they’re a few blocks away from the lab.

Conner opens his eyes for a moment, thinking about whether he wants to answer or if he just wants to go to sleep. Nuzzling his cheek against Lex’s stomach, he chooses the latter. Artemis, still holding on to a healthy dose of suspicion, keeps her mouth shut. Tim speaks up before Kid Flash can unproductively spill every detail of the case in under ten seconds.

“Superman claimed that lab was conducting experiments on Metas,” he states, a bit of that practiced authority entering his tone. “Conner argued that the intel was wrong. That that lab specialized in medical advancements.”

“Prosthetics and cancer research,” Lex specifies.

“Dad didn’t believe me,” Conner mutters. He sounds defeated in a way Lex hadn’t heard him in a very long time.

He runs his fingers through the dark curls his son inherited from his father while Robin continues. “He didn’t believe either of us. He even shot down Conner’s offer to give us a tour of the lab.”

“He insisted on it being a covert op.” Artemis’ tone gives him a glimpse into the annoyance she’s keeping close to the vest. Maybe a little anger, too. He can’t blame her for being upset that their mission failed.

“We snuck in with a tour group and hid in the bathroom. That works way too well at way too many places,” Wally explains at a pace just slightly faster than normal human speech while he bounces his knee so fast the car is shaking. “I kinda blew it when I ran through a security check point. Thought it would be easy since there was no guard. Should’ve listened to Kon.”

“Conner,” Lex and Tim corrected.

“I feel like I’m in trouble. That’s what Superman calls him. I thought it was short for Conner. You know? Like a nickname. Like how my name is Wallace, but everyone calls me Wally.”

Lex has to restrain his anger at that statement. This child surely doesn’t know what that word means, but Kal absolutely knows. He makes a mental note to remind him, again, not to call their son that word as he informs, “’Kon’ means ‘abomination,’ and I can’t tell you how many times I’ve told Clark to stop calling him that.” The car comes to a stop in front of a luxury apartment complex. “You should put your mask back on. It would appear the press got here first.”

Tim lets out a tired sigh as he complies. “Of course they did.”

The moment the door opens, the press descends on them. Camera flashes blur the children’s vision. Too many questions are being asked too fast and from too many different directions. Not even Kid Flash can keep straight who’s asking what. One question stands out, mostly because it’s being asked by so many different reporters. “Who is Superboy’s mother?”

“No comment,” Robin, being the closest to the door and first out of the car, states firmly.

“Come on, Robin,” a man calls over the cacophony. “The people want to know.”

“No comment,” Lex agrees with the young hero as he ushers the rest of the children out of the vehicle.

“What?” a commanding voice above them called. Superboy cowers beneath his father’s glare. “You don’t want a mother of the year award?”

Turning to the teens, he instructs, “Take him inside. I’ll be up in a minute.” He waits for the automatic door to close behind them before turning a glare of his own on the Kryptonian. “Do you intend to stay up there all afternoon? Or can we go talk in private like civilized adults?”

“We can talk here,” Clark compromises as he floats down to stand beside the crew from the Daily Planet. He’s intentionally put himself between his wife and his ex, but Lex already saw the bump. The man who swore up and down that he didn’t actually want kids is a few months from greeting child number two. He wonders if he’ll leave Lois the same way he’d left him all those years ago. “You do have the second largest collection of kryptonite after the Justice League.”

His eye twitches at the implication. “There’s a conference room just through there,” he points to a wall of covered windows. “I can open the blinds so everyone can see us, but I will not be having this conversation in front of the press.” He feels a sense of accomplishment when he hears the heavy footsteps following him. Regardless of what he records or tells his reporter wife, at least he can say in good conscience that he did everything he could to protect Conner from being plastered across the front page. Whatever gets leaked is solely on Clark.

Then he hears the distinct clack-clack-clack of heals and his heart drops. Of course, he brought Lois. And really, why wouldn’t he? As far as the public knows, they are sworn rivals. They don’t even know where Conner came from or if he’s actually their precious Superman’s kid. For all they know, he could just be a Metahuman with a similar enough power set to pass as at least part Kryptonian. So why wouldn’t a reporter be sent in? One with a rapport so good with Superman that she’s carrying his baby. His second baby.

As much as Lex wants to turn around and tell her to leave, he has to maintain his composure. For Conner. He can lash out later, after the kids are asleep or gone home. Hopefully his therapist won’t be too upset about another call in the middle of the night. He’s all too aware of how stiff his posture is as he leads them down the hall and into the conference room. Pressing a button beside the light switch raises the blinds and immediately dozens of camera flashes are going off.

“Congratulations, Lois,” he comments in a neutral tone as he pulls out a chair for her. “Do you know the sex yet?”

“Thank you. And, no, not yet. I want to wait until they’re born to find out.”

“We’re not here to talk about our baby.”

“Actually, Clark,” Lex turns his attention to his ex as he leans against the long table, “we are here to talk about our baby. Although, I guess Conner isn’t a baby anymore. He’s six. And you just screamed in front of God and everyone that you don’t want him!”

“I don’t! I didn’t ask you to make him! He’s a clone, an abom-”

“He’s your child! Don’t you dare call him an abomination!”

Lois makes a show of taking her phone out of her purse and turning it off. Completely off. “Clark, as your boss, we need to have a discussion later about what is and is not appropriate for the news.”

“And as my wife?”

She levels him with a hard glare. “I’m debating how long you’ll be banished to the couch for lying to me and trying to trick me into putting a private matter on the record.” The Man of Steel looks like a kicked puppy as Lois turns to Lex, her gaze softening to one of apology and sympathy. “There’s clearly some history between you two that I’m not privy to. Is it alright for me to ask? Completely off the record.”

He only hesitates a moment. What harm could telling her the truth do? He has proof to back up his side of the story, and Lois has always been fair. So, he sinks into a nearby chair and tells her everything. He tells her about how he and Clark met each other as kids. How Clark had been one of his only friends as he transitioned in high school. How they had worked together to study the technology he’d been sent from Kryton with. Lex had seen how badly kryptonite hurt his then partner and decided to try and find a cure or synthesize a vaccine. He wanted to help, but instead the radiation the kryptonite emitted gave him blood cancer.

When he started treatment, the doctor gave them the option to harvest, fertilize, and freeze his eggs so they’d still have a chance to start a family once he was in remission. At the time, Clark seemed so enthusiastic about the idea, and Lex had always wanted kids. Then he got sicker and sicker. The chemo and surgeries were hell. The only reason he kept going and is now thirteen years in remission is because he clung to that fantasy of a happy family and a happy life with the man he fell in love with in grade school.

But that’s all it was. A fantasy. When he started to get better, Clark had asked him to continue his research. When he refused, for his own health, things started getting bad. It started with petty arguments. Then, it was screaming matches and holes in walls. Before he knew it, he was lying to nurses in the emergency department. Bruises and broken ribs were blamed on falls and low white cell counts. Dizzy spells? Sleeping troubles from quarterly reviews and the medicine he was on, not the concussion from Clark slamming him against the wall. Weight loss? Long hours in the lab and forgetting to eat, not the fact that he was in too much pain from the abuse to keep anything substantial down.

Then Lex told her about how Clark twisted his arm until it snapped and told people that his company conducted experiments on Metas when he’d finally had enough and left. “Clark!” she gasped, staring at the man she married like some stranger trying to grab her off the street.

“You don’t know what he was like! He was so-”

“Clark Joseph Kent, if the next word out of your mouth is ‘needy’ I will take your house key right now and you will sleep in the Fortress of Solitude until both of your kids are old enough to know how to treat their partners. The man had cancer, for Christ’s sake.”

Clark stumbles over his words until he finally snaps, “I still didn’t give him permission to-”

“Clark,” Lex hisses, eyes darting between him and the door.

“-actually use the embryos!”

The sound of a phone clattering on the ground pulls the attention of the other two adults to the boy in the doorway. Lex’s heart breaks at the deer in headlights look in Conner’s eyes as he stares at his father. He wants to yell at Clark for his stupidity and demand he leave, but Conner needs a mom more than Lex needs to scream.

He hears Bruce’s voice on the phone as he picks it up before ushering Conner out the door. “Hello? Conner? Lex?”

“Bruce, I’ll call you back later.”

“Wait a second. Is anyone hurt?”

Lex takes a deep breath as he and Conner board the elevator. “There are no physical injuries that I’m aware of.”

“And non-physical?”

He glances down at his son, leaning against him like he did when he was little. It’s hard to believe that it has only been a few years and not a decade. He still doesn’t know why Conner aged so fast or what stopped him at mid-adolescents. Despite his physical maturity, he still holds on to some mannerisms that are developmentally appropriate for his chronological age. Maybe he’ll never know why, and he’s somehow okay with that. “Ask Lois,” he finally answers. Bruce ended the call as the elevator dinged and the door slid open.

Conner stormed off to his room. “Is…he okay?” Artemis asks from the living room. All three teens were staring, maskless, between him and the hall their friend had disappeared down.

Lex doesn’t know how to answer and he’s too worried to lie. He follows Conner to his room. The door is open, but he still knocks on the doorframe. “Are you alright?” The only response he gets is a few sniffles from the boy lying on the bed, his back to the door, hugging a pillow and trying so hard not to cry. “Conner?” He moves to sit beside him on the bed and runs his fingers through his son’s hair. “Talk to me, sweetheart.”

“Why does he hate me so much?” the boy finally whimpers into the pillow. “I get not wanting me. Tim’s dad didn’t want him at first, but Bruce still loves him. Why can’t my dad be like that?” His cheeks are red and damp with tears when he finally sits up to face Lex with all the questions casting shadows over his mind. “Why can’t he love me as much as he loves his other kid that isn’t even here yet?! It’s not fair! And why is he always so mean to you? You didn’t do anything wrong. Is he mad at you because you had me? Would you two still be together if I wasn’t here?” His shoulders slump as he whimpers, “Was I a mistake?”

Lex didn’t know how to answer most of his son’s rapid-fire questions. Truth be told, he hadn’t known Conner had any of these thoughts lurking behind his usually bright smile. He assumed the boy was happy. At least, as happy as the child of a single mother with a superhero for an absentee father could be. He wanted to cry with him as the thought that he failed as a parent creeps into his mind.

Instead, he pulls Conner into his lap and slowly rocks him as he assures, “You were never a mistake and you’re not an abomination. I had you because I wanted you. Do you understand?” The boy nods, resting his head on Lex’s shoulder. “Your father and I,” he sighs, trying to figure out how to explain his broken relationship with the world’s favorite Kryptonian in a way a child could understand. “We weren’t good for each other. Some things happened long before you came into the picture that neither of us could work through.”

“What kind of things?”

“Adult things that I pray you will never have to understand.”

“Does he really not want me?”

“That’s something only he can answer. There was a time, years ago, when I could say for certain that he did. But sometimes people change their mind and only they know for certain.”

“But you still want me. Right?”

Lex smiles down at his son as he wipes tears from his cheek. “Of course. And there is nothing in this life or the next that will change that.”

It took him a while to calm down. By then, the others had decided it would be best if they all avoided the news for a while. So, Lex ordered pizza while the kids found a show to watch. They settled on some cartoon from before any of them were born that they found on Hulu. Something that coincidentally reminded Lex of simpler times.

None of them are awake by the fifth episode. As he drapes blankets over his child’s friends, he wonders if maybe this is for the best. They’ll need to be well rested for whatever fiasco awaits them in the morning. Be it a media circus as they return home or backlash from their mentors and peers for spending the night with a villain. He debates leaving Conner with his friends. The boy looks so peaceful, mirroring the way Tim is curled up on the end of the couch. He’d hate to wake him, but he also knows how much he’ll complain about being stiff in the morning if he doesn’t sleep in his bed.

Lex counts himself lucky as Conner doesn’t wake up when he collects him in his arms and carries him to his room. He stays sound asleep as he tucks him in and kisses his forehead. He doesn’t even stir as he carefully closes the door just in time for his phone to ding with an invitation from Bruce to join a group chat.

Oliver: What do you mean “Calm down” Bruce?!

Barry: It’s kinda hard to calm down when LEX LUTHOR has our students! Their parents trust us to keep them safe.

Bruce: They are safe.

Lex: They are currently asleep in my living room, if that makes you feel better. I’d be happy to send a picture.

Barry: A picture doesn’t prove they’re alive. I want to talk to Kid Flash.

Lex pinches the bridge of his nose as he sends the picture he’d offered and starts towards his own room, typing a response.

Lex: I will not wake them just to sate your paranoia. They’ve had dinner and fell asleep watching tv.

Oliver: How do we know you didn’t poison them?

Lex: I see you’ve heard Clark’s version of me.

Bruce: Gentlemen, at least try to be civil. I started this group chat to suggest that we all meet tomorrow so I can introduce you two to Lex without Clark’s input.

Barry: How do we know we can trust him?

Bruce: In the past month, Tim has slept over at his apartment fifteen times. If I trust him with my child, you can trust him with your students for one night. I give you my word.

He watches the dots appear and disappear as Barry and Oliver try to find the words to respond. How can they continue to argue when Batman himself has vouched for him. Eventually, they give up. The green dots by their names turn red, indicating their offline status. Lex is about to turn off his phone for the night as well when one last message pops up.

Bruce: You’re a good person, Lex. They’ll see that as clearly as I do tomorrow.

Chapter Text

All he hears as he runs is shouting. Angry shouting, but he doesn’t understand the words. He knows the language; he knows that he knows the language. Kryptonian, the language Clark had taught him when they were little so they could talk to each other without other kids eavesdropping. He’d used the language so much that the alien words feel as natural as English.

But he can’t understand these words as they’re screamed from every corner of the darkness that surrounds him. Heavy, cold darkness. He can’t see where he’s going, or if he’s going anywhere at all. He feels the ground beneath his feet. Solid. Smooth. Consistent. It feels almost like the linoleum flooring of a hospital, a texture he was all too familiar with.

A rapid beeping joins the angry words as a bright light pierces the darkness to his right. He almost falls as he quickly turns to chase it. Panicked English mixes with the angry Kryptonian. Medical jargon interspersed with what he’s coming to recognize as insults and curses. He feels a too real hand on his shoulder as a syringe with a glowing green substance and his son lying on a gurney come into focus.

“Mom?” Conner’s tired voice is the first clear thing Lex hears as his eyes snap open. His chest feels tight as he struggles to regain control of his breathing. “Are you okay?”

A nightmare. That’s all it was, but that’s likely why his son had come to his room. No doubt his racing pulse woke the boy. “I’m alright,” he lies as he lifts the blanket for Conner to join him. He’d learned years ago how futile it was to try to get him to return to his own room on nights like this. “Go back to sleep.”

“I don’t wanna.”

Lex can’t help but smile watching his son rub his eyes, words slurring as he fights sleep. The clock on the table behind him says it’s just past four in the morning. It’s not the earliest they’ve gotten up, but it’s far too early today and Conner can barely keep his eyes open.

Fortunately, he doesn’t have to argue any further. He’s sound asleep within seconds of laying down beside his mother. Lex wants to follow his lead, but closing his eyes brings back the nightmare. He’d rather not have to confront that right now. Not while he’s so close to the one thing in this world that still brings him joy, even on his bad days.

Instead, he watches Conner’s chest rise and fall with each relaxed breath. Memorizes how his eyelids twitch as he enters REM sleep and wonders what he dreams about. Does he dream about the usual fantasies a normal six-year-old mind would concoct, or are they closer to the musings of a teenager? Has his unconscious mind found some sort of balance between the two? Does he dream of saving the day like his father? Or does he have nightmares like his mother?

A soft knock on the doorframe pulls Lex from his thoughts. He glances at the clock – six a.m. – before looking to the breathing shadow lurking in the doorway. “Do I want to know how long you’ve been standing there?”

“Probably not,” Bruce says. “Can we talk?”

For a fraction of a second, Lex worried if he was in trouble. If he’d done something wrong in the eight hours since he’d last heard from the vigilante. Then he remembered that this is Bruce Wayne. Their children are friends. They’d ran in the same social circles since college. He’d like to call the man his friend, but he’d lost the courage to hope long before they’d had their first conversation. The confident, calculating billionaire the public believes Lex to be is as much of a mask as the ditsy, flirty persona Bruce dons in front of cameras.

So, he sets his fears aside and follows Bruce to the kitchen, careful not to wake Conner as he slips out of bed. The presence of Burce’s eldest leaning against the counter near the coffee pot is only a slight surprise. He’s not as familiar with Dick as he is with Tim, but he has met the young man a few times. He does flinch when a girl resembling Artemis appears beside him and transforms into a completely different girl. Red hair and pale with freckles instead of blonde and tan.

She eyes him suspiciously until a stern, “M’gann,” from Dick caught her attention. In a more neutral tone, he adds, “Report.”

“As far as the press is concerned, Robin, Kid Flash, and Artemis left the building hours ago,” she informs.

“And Tim, Wally, and Artemis?”

“Arrived individually over the past hour.” She nervously twirls a lock of hair around her finger. “One of the reporters caught me as Artemis. I panicked and said we were working on a school project…in French.”

Dick raised an eyebrow. “French?”

“French.”

“When did you learn French?” Her cheeks flush pink in embarrassment. His confused expression is turned on Bruce as something unspoken passed between the younger heroes. “When did Tim learn French?”

“Tim used to go to school in Paris,” Bruce reminds, sounding more exhausted than he looks. “And that’s not what we’re here to talk about.”

M’gann handed Bruce a flash drive before leaving, shooting one last uneasy glance at Lex as she passed him. “I take it she’s not my biggest fan.”

“She’s,” Dick hesitated, handing him a cup of coffee as he searched for the right word, “impressionable. Media has been a big influence on how she perceives humanity.”

“And the media hasn’t painted me in a kind light. Understood.”

“That’s part of what I wanted to talk about. Clark’s ‘mother of the year’ comment is going viral and he’s doing everything short of publishing his own article to spin it against you.”

Lex’s hands shake around his cup. He knew Clark would pull something like this. He’d always had that charm that made everyone want to believe every word that came out of his mouth. Taking a long sip, Lex can’t help of imagine all the ways his ex could destroy what little reputation he had left and how his words could hurt Conner.

But he hasn’t actually seen any of the headlines. And he can’t check; his phone is still plugged in on his nightstand. Maybe it’s not as bad as he’s imagining it to be. “What exactly is he saying?” he finally asks as he sets the mug on the counter.

“He’s saying you test kryptonite weapons on Conner and other clones of Superman.” Bruce’s anger at the accusations is evident in his tone. This is a man that once saw the Kryptonian as a friend. Never once did he believe he was capable of such egregious lies. “Lois has kept the Daily Planet from publishing anything regarding you and Conner. She said she doesn’t want any part in this smear campaign, but is willing to publish your side if you want her to.”

Lex feels numb. Of all the things he’d imagined that man would say about him, never once was he willing to believe he’d say that he hurt their child. It feels like the room is spinning as he leans against the counter for support. He distantly hears Dick ask if he’s okay and comment on how pale he’s starting to look.

“I’d never hurt Conner,” he finally mutters, voice strained. It sounds more like he’s begging for someone to believe him than like a declaration of fact. “He’s my baby. I would never raise a hand to him. I’m not a monster.”

Bruce’s expression shifts to something more sympathetic. “We know.”

Dick had moved closer by the time Lex was able to bring himself to look anywhere but the floor. “You’re not doing this alone, Lex. We’ll help you fix this.”

“How?” Panic has fully set in. He half expects Conner to come running with how fast his heart is beating. “How can I prove him wrong without putting his family in danger? Any evidence I have against him is against Clark Kent, not Kal-El.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Dick assures, checking a text on his phone. “Oracle’s working on getting those articles taken down, but it’s going to take a while. I’ll get Tim to log in and help her when he wakes up.”

Bruce nods along with his son. “In the meantime, you need to decide how much you want to tell Barry and Oliver. They’ll be here soon.”

Barry and Oliver. It takes Lex a moment to connect their civilian names to the heroes: Green Arrow and the Flash. Wally and Artemis’ mentors. He barely hears Bruce explain a few options. Various levels of his history with Clark. A few more secretive options could be easily dismissed with a simple lie and an Oscar-worthy smile. The more details they give, the more likely he is to be believed.

He’s halfway down the hall before he realizes he’s moving. He doesn’t remember if he’d said anything before walking out of the kitchen. In the living room, the kids that had come home with him are still sound asleep. M’gann is sitting quietly on the couch beside Artemis. She watches him as he makes his way to his office.

The safe behind a painting of his parents is his goal. Keying in the code, the last four numbers of Conner’s social security number, helps to steady his hands. Not by much, but anything is better than visibly shaking. He catches a glimpse of Bruce’s reflection in the screen as he opens the safe and collects its contents.

“I’m tired of secrets,” he explains. “I don’t want anyone to get hurt, but people deserve to know what kind of man Clark is.” It takes several trips between the table in the middle of the room and the safe to fully empty it. Three-inch binders, a copy of his medical record that takes up four file boxes and half the table, a tablet with copies of security footage, and pictures. So many pictures. “How do we do this without his parents and Lois getting caught in the crossfire?”

“That’s not up to us. The best we can do is warn them before going public. For now, though, we start small.” Bruce shows him a text on his phone. “Barry and Oliver are on their way up. How much can they know?”

The last clear memory Lex has of that morning is saying, “Everything,” moments before the other two heroes joined them. Bruce knows his entire history, so he took the lead. He laid out every detail like evidence in a high-profile legal case. Like he’s trying to convince a jury to acquit. He couldn’t help but think how this man wasted his college years in pre-med. Bruce would’ve thrived as a law student.

For a moment, Lex can almost convince himself that these people aren’t going through his medical records. That man in the picture with bruises on top of bruises isn’t actually him. The dissociation is comforting until he sees the dead look in his own eyes and remembers the pain that had accompanied every mark Clark left on his body. Every bruise. Every broken bone. Every slap. For years, all he received from that man was pain. Why had he stayed as long as he had? Why hadn’t he left sooner?

A gentle hand on his shoulder pulls him from his spiraling thoughts. “Are you okay?” Dick quietly asks.

He doesn’t know how to answer. Should he lie? Say he’s fine so nobody else gets upset? Should he admit that he’s starting to panic? How long has it been since the question was asked? A few seconds? A minute? Several minutes? Oliver’s staring at him. Is he annoyed? Suspicious? Angry? Lex doesn’t know him well enough to read him.

“It’s okay.” Dick’s voice is calm. Familiar. He nods towards the balcony. “Let’s get some air. You look like you could use a break.”

He’s shaking as he follows him out onto the balcony. It’s easier to breathe as the sound of his past being explained in so much detail is muffled by the glass door. Dick looks calm as he leans against the railing, closing his eyes and tilting his head back as if he’s not thirty stories above concrete. Lex doesn’t make it past the chair closest to the door.

When his breathing finally evens out, Dick says, “You know, nobody expects you to be okay. Especially after everything he’s put you through.”

“I can’t afford to not be okay. Conner needs me too much for me to not be okay.” He sighs, rubbing his temples in a futile attempt to stop the stress headache trying to escalate to a full-blown migraine. “I don’t know how Bruce does it.”

“He doesn’t.” When Lex’s head snaps up in confusion, he continues. “He pushes away the people who love him. He lashes out. When Bruce can’t take anymore, Batman stops pulling his punches. He almost broke his rule after what happened to Jason and Tim.”

“Heroes have rules?”

“Bats and Birds don’t kill. That’s the only rule.” He glances back out across the city. “It’s hard sometimes. Especially when a Robin gets hurt. I don’t know how he does it either. I do know that he doesn’t do it alone. I think being alone makes it worse.”

Lex thinks back to the few times his sister visited. She wasn’t too thrilled about him being a single parent, but her being there made it easier. Even if it was only for a few days. It had felt like a weight had lifted despite the sharp words she had regarding his parenting style. She thought he wasn’t tough enough but wouldn’t dare do more than complain after Conner was put to bed. But still, having her around helped.

“Maybe you’re right,” he concedes. “How do I ask for help?”

Dick smiles, pride shining in his blue eyes. “You just did.”