-In which Superboy's conscience gets the better of him-

Clark was up late worrying. Even when he did fall asleep, He awoke two hours early with only one thought: now he needed to lie to Lois.

Sure, she didn't know he was superman, but that was mostly avoidance, ignorance, little white lies here and there. Now, he REALLY had to lie to her, he had to make up a backstory and a personality and a name to explain away the clone. It was already such a tangled web, and now he had to add more. All it took was her asking the wrong person, finding some small contradiction, asking one difficult question, and the entire lie-- his identity, would crumble.

...And that's not touching on all the ways the clone could ruin this.

At around 6 am, Clark left his room, deciding to leave for work early and find some breakfast elsewhere. He stepped into the living room, getting himself a glass of water to get his day started. It was peacefully empty in the living room. The clone wasn't there.

Despite the sinister implications of this development, Clark felt a rush of relief: It was gone! Out of his house, out of his life, and he had space to himself once again.

He did not want to wonder where it went, what it was doing, anything. He was alone again. He could throw excuses at Lois without concern for the clone tattling on him. Honestly, it's a godsend: the kid hated Clark, Clark couldn't stand him, He wanted attention and ownership Clark could not provide; it was best for both of them if the kid disappeared and maybe spent some time learning how to not be homicidal.

A weight slowly shifting off his shoulders, Clark sprung to the bathroom to get ready for the day. He could take his time now, he was already running early. He brushed teeth and shaved, and, after a moment, he decided he might as well take a shower, having not risked the vulnerability since the clone's arrival.

He pulled the curtain aside and jumped, toppling backwards and smacking his head on the door knob, denting it. Thank god he'd only stripped down halfway. The mirror of his face snapped awake in shock, stumbling and gripping the tile wall for support.

He blinked hard and rubbed his eyes, glowering down at Clark. "What do you want?"

Clark's mouth gaped in audacity and disapointment, quite taken aback. "What are you doing in the shower?!"

"I was sleeping."

"Why?!" Clark picked himself up, towel clutched infront of his chest. "I thought you were gone! Why weren't you on the couch?"

"You were looking for me?" He asked, glancing up at Clark with huge eyes, muddied and watery as puddles. "I... I like sleeping in closet pods."

Clark couldn't hold back his disgusted confusion, a flood of worry and bitterness reentering his nervous system. The kid was still here. He must have done something truly heinous in his past life to deserve this. "Get out of my bathroom."

He stepped out of the bathtub and squeezed past Clark into the main room, watching him until he shut the door. Clark redressed for work, not going to risk bathing after such a shock. He settled for a combination of rinsing his hair under the sick (embarrassingly difficult considering his height), and an understated cologne over deodorant. He was now somewhat acceptable for a work environment.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Superboy waited about two minutes, listening to superman as he left the building, before taking out his treasure: a little black book. It was filled with unreadable text, symbols, and occasionally little curvy arrows pointing earlier in the paragraphs. The only legible text was a few scribbled words on the inside cover: Lois Lane, 888-447-5594, 241 E 46th St.

He'd found it while searching for the buzzing sound in the woman's bag. Being fascinated with books, and the excitement of reading in his real, post-pod life, he'd tucked it aside to read once he was done finding the buzzing. He didn't think Superman would be mad at him for it.

And that's why he didn't-- couldn't tell him about the book. Superman hated crime, like stealing. Conner didn't mean to steal, she's left before he could replace it. He wasn't a criminal. He didn't want to be. The horror of Superman finding out he's stolen something from his friend was mortifying. Superboy was supposed to uphold these values, not commit crimes. He felt guilty and sick just thinking about it.

He had to return it. Superman left for work, if work was as long as it was yesterday, he could be back before Superman returned.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lois had been up almost all night, leaning into the blue light of her laptop, typing any keyword she could think up into the search bar. there was nothing, but that checked out since, according to google, Smallville only got it's first internet café in 2009.

She managed to find Clark's parent's marriage license at the local church, and even Clark's baptism record (No birth record, must not be a hospital in town). What Lois found interesting, however, was that she find a baptism record for another Kent in the town in the last 20 years. They were religious, they baptized Clark at church, but not their second kid?

After lying sleeplessly in bed for an hour, moping about Clark, she rolled off her bed and made a cup of shitty instant coffee in the microwave (all-nighters got significantly worse at age thirty).

There was a hash buzz across the room, she stopped buttoning her work blouse and pressed the apartment doorbell response. "Lois Lane. Do you have a delivery or a tip?" On the other side of the static, she heard the yelp and a thunk, then silence. "...No soliciting." She hung up and crawled into a jacket, shoving her laptop and fistful of loose ballpoint pens into her bag. She wanted to get to work before nine so she could corner mr.-goody-two-shoes-early-every-day.

Deciding the elevator would save her limited energy, she descended to the ground floor, doors opening to show her the street outside the building. Lois threw her arm infront of the elevator doors, forgetting that she was bound for the garage, and jumped out into the lobby. She staggered across the lobby and tore the glass door open. The kid, the bane of her past twelve hours, turned away from the buzzer and cocked his head.

They stared at each other, dumb, for several seconds. "Here." He thrust something at her.

She flipped through it: it was her address book. Did she forget to pick it up last night? "Oh, thanks." She frowned. "Y'know, Clark could have just given it to me at work..."

The boy didn't reply, shifting uncomfortably. "I need to leave."

"NO wait!" She grabbed his arm. "I want to talk to you! I've got to-- Come with me." She hauled him with her around back to the garage and unlocked the car. "Here, I'll give you a lift on my way to work!"

"Don't grab me." The boy yanked away, throwing her forwards a bit.

"Okay, Okay! I won't, just..." She opened the back door.

Cautiously, he crawled inside, looking around in confusion and wonder. Lois slammed her door and told him to buckle up. The boy made no attempt to do so, probably a redneck thing.

"This is a car..." He said.

"Uh huh. Sorry, there's..." She leaned over, shoving takeout containers, loose papers, and a comfortable change of clothes off the backseat onto the floor. "Okay, I need you to answer some questions for me." The boy sat silently, arms stretched nervously between his knees. Like Clark, he was a bit too big for the back seat. "So, what grade are you in at school?"

"I'm not in school." He said. Lois raised an eyebrow, but didn't vocalize her concerns. "Where are you taking me?"

Lois nodded to herself, stopping in morning rush traffic. She had basically kidnapped her coworker's brother/child, but in her defense, the kid hadn't yelled stranger danger. "I can drop you at Clark's place, maybe. Wherever you want within two miles of my work" Lois reached for the cupholder, finding nothing but a pile of receipts. She must have left her shitty instant coffee at home. "Hey kid, have you eaten yet?"

He shook his head. Perfect. Lois skipped the turn off for Clark's place and pulled into the Starbucks drive through. She assumed the kid had never been to one, and guessed a breakfast sandwhich for both of them would suffice (Along with a black cold brew for her, of course).

The kid nibbled at the English muffin suspiciously, and then tore in with vigor. Aside from the sandwich wrap last night, he didn't seem to have eaten in about two days, and the one thing media told her about teenagers was that they needed food.

Lazily, she drifted to a stop infront of the planet and turned around. "So, what is your name?"

"I don't have one." He said, glaring at her, cheeks bulging with the second half of Lois' sandwhich (he seemed to need it more).

"It's okay, It's off the record, I can keep a secret."

"I just don't have one, okay!" He snapped, shifting his cramped legs uncomfortably.

"Hmm." She sipped her coffee. "What's life like in Smallville?" The kid stared at her, chewing, absolutely no understanding in his eyes. "So, uh... thoughts on the city? You said you've never been here before."

The kid took his time and swallowed. "It's loud."

"Yeah, well, you get used to it." She chuckled. "So, has Clark shown you around yet?" The kid shook his head. "Well, we have an iconic fixture to the Metropolis skyline right here." She crawled across the passenger seat and stepped out onto the sidewalk. "Want a look? I can show you around the office."

The kid faltered, crawling away as she opened the back door. "He said stay put."

"Oh did he?" She huffed. "So, the one time you leave home, you have to stay put in an empty apartment the entire time!?"

The boy nodded a little. "He said stat put." He repeated. "I don't want him to yell."

"Smallville?" Lois couldn't stop a cackle. "Clark apologizes for being mugged! Don't be scared of that, he couldn't even raise his voice at the punk that broke his window!" He looked up at her doubtfully, wringing his hands. Clark was a good guy, but he doesn't deserve that kind of reverence and idolization. "Come with me, I won't let Clark scare you."

"But--" She tugged him out of the car and lead the way towards the building.

Lois flashed her ID, hurrying the kid inside "Come on! We'll hide you in the break room, I can ask you some more questions, It'll be no big deal..."

The door to the stairs slammed open, revealing a fuming, panting, Clark.

"LOIS!" Clark hurried forwards, flushed from the five story decent. He towered over the clone "What are you doing here? You were supposed to stay home."

It staggered back, hands crossed infront of his face. Lois stepped between them. "Hey, it's okay, he's with me."

"Lo, you really don't--"

"Yes, I do. I mean, if you bring the kid all the way out to the east coast, you might as well let him stretch his legs."

Clark cursed her persistence. "But--"

"Is there an issue here?" The lobby's security officer, interrupted; watching the clone.

"Nope! No issue. He's my... our plus one. He'll be staying on the sixth floor, so he shouldn't be any issue." Lois said, attempting to squeeze the clone past Clark to the elevator. "Don't worry, Smallville, he's with me today, you can focus on work."

He cursed her for her determination, she thought she was helping. "Lois, I'll be fine. I can watch him. you don't need to... You look exhausted."

She shot him a look. "No, no, if you can't sleep, can't work, just from knowing he's at home, you an rest easy knowing I'm taking him off your hands for the day."

"You don't understand." Clark muttered. He glanced back to the clone, but he wasn't there. "What?"

He and Lois turned around, just in time to see the elevator doors snapped closed.