-Clark and Conner have a talk-

Conner didn't speak the rest of the meal, except to give one or two word answers to questions. He kept his eyes on the table and tried to keep movement to a minimum.

It wasn't normal for adults to forgive him so easily. This had to be some sort of test.

Clark kept glancing at him the entire time, Conner didn't meet his eyes.

After they'd all finished, Clark suggested that Conner go out at wait on the porch for him while he helped with dishes. The man's mother assured him he shouldn't, but Clark insisted. He didn't need to convince Conner, he slinked off as soon as he was able.

Conner hadn't meant to listen, but his ears just couldn't release their grip on the kitchen:

"Does he have accidents like that a lot?" Mr. Kent was asking.

Conner felt his insides wither.

"All the time, it's not about you," Clark assured. "Conner is... a little anxious. If he has any outbursts or anything, just... it's not our fault. He's had a hard time in life so far and he's not... well..." there was a lengthy pause, "he's not used to adults being nice to him."

"Poor baby," Mrs. Kent cooed, "he must have been lonely."

"If he was it was my..." Clark sighed heavily. "Never mind, I should probably go find him." The sink turned off and Conner heard footsteps approaching. Shortly, the door opened and Clark joined him on the porch.

"How much did you hear?"

"all of it."

Clark nodded. "I guess hoping for privacy was a bit thick of me."

"I didn't mean to..." Conner muttered.

"Conner," Clark turned to face him, "I know a lot of the adults in your life aren't exactly people you want to be comfortable with," That was an understatement, most of the usual adults in Conner's life either tried to kill him regularly or told him off after every mission. "I just want to let you know, Ma and Pa are safe. They aren't going to hurt you, not on purpose anyways, they aren't going to mock or punish or humiliate you, they just want to get to know you."

Conner looked at him dubiously. Conner had yet to meet anyone-- let alone an adult-- without ulterior motives. Luthor said the right words, but not with the right intent; Mr. Carr was patient with him, but he was Conner's teacher; even with Clark he suspected that his reaching out to Conner at all was fueled more by guilt than caring about him. He tried to shake the painful thought from his head. He knew nobody wanted him unless they got something out of it, and for a long time that had made sense to him-- a basic exchange of service for attention-- but he was getting exhausted of being exceptional and strong just so people would actively acknowledge him.

"I want to go home," Conner murmured, surprising even himself with the softness with which it came out.

"I hear you," his brother assured, "but I don't want you to leave with a bad experience. Is it okay if we stick around just one more hour, just to see how you feel?"

Conner didn't want to; Conner wanted to go home, switch into rational mind, and be avoidant of his emotions for a few days. "And after the hour we can leave?"

"If you want."

Conner reluctantly nodded.

Clark gave him a quick tour; the farm wasn't very big, certainly not big enough to be considered an industrial farm.

"Ma and Pa get some young folks from town in to do most of the work these days, mostly young adults saving up to move for university..." Clark was explaining. "Back in the day we did most of it alone and only brought on help for harvest, but since I moved, and they're getting on in years... it just wasn't feasible anymore."

"You used to help?"

"Let's just say between the time I was fourteen and eighteen I was able to do most of it by myself. It was part of my chores. I wasn't allowed to work the hay baler though. I fell into it as a while playing as kid-- broke the entire thing and scared the life out of pa."

"Really?" Conner asked.

"You get up to all things growing on a farm, especially without any siblings." Clark sighed, "I always wanted a little brother or sister to play with... but I have you now," he pulled Conner into a half-hug, "and I think we'd better commit to making up for lost time in both of our lives."

"What do you mean?"

"I want to do all the things I wished I could as a kid, I want someone to teach and spoil and have fun with. Someone who understands... all this." He said, gesturing to himself. "I always wanted someone as indestructible as me-- or you know, close enough-- I was always told to be careful with other kids growing up with, it kind of became a mantra, I started to feel so distanced from humans."

"But you're just like a human," Conner said, "You're a figurehead for humanity!"

"I guess..." Clark sighed, "no more of that. I didn't mean to dampen the mood."

Conner thought for a moment. "They always tell me to be careful with everyone too."

"I'm not surprised." Clark seemed to realize what he'd said and began to backtrack: "Oh, I didn't mean--"

"It's okay," Conner sighed, "I am."

"No you're not, Conner, you're more than that," his brother insisted. "Even before we started talking, I wanted to break the ice ever since December, I could tell you had more going on than anger issues but... I don't know, I guess I was scared."

"Of me?"

"No! Not of you!" Clark corrected quickly. "Of the process of fixing things, the shame, having to apologize... Honestly, I thought you weren't going to forgive me..." He took off and polished his glasses. "You know, I wouldn't have blamed you if it had hurt too much to forgive me."

Conner was taken aback. Superman had apologized for his behavior before, but he hadn't mentioned worrying about Conner's forgiveness.

"Honestly," The boy admitted softly. "I just wanted you to talk to me without criticizing me or shaking me off. I just..." He felt a lump rise in his throat, and tried to force it back down. "I just wanted to talk to you."

Clark stopped, turning to his kid brother. "Conner, I'm so sorry,"

Conner tightened the floodgates, trying to suppress the emotional reaction bubbling up inside him. His eyes got blurry and he reached up to wipe them before his brother noticed. "Thanks."

"Come on," Clark said, taking him by the shoulder, "I'll show you the ravine I used to play in growing up."

The ravine was small, closer to a creek, and quite shallow-- although Clark claimed it ran much higher in winter.

They sat on the bank for some time, watching the water carry by leaves and sticks and natural debris like a conveyor belt.

The day was warm and clear, much warmer and clearer than in New England, and Conner could feel his skin tingle from the solar rays.

"It's been an hour," Clark said at last. "How do you feel?"

"I don't know." Conner murmured.

"Do you want to leave still?"

"I don't know."

"That's okay, take your time." Clark sighed softly, "...you are so brave." Conner opened his eyes, which had drifted shut from the warmth. His big brother continued: "I mean, I don't think I could have done any of the things you've done at your age... especially at your age, y'know?"

"No." Conner replied, "what do you mean?"

"I mean, Conner, I am so proud of you. This is a lot for anyone, even for people with several times your life experience, you're only a year old and you're doing it. I believe you can make it through."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Clark smiled down at him. "I won't stop you if you want to leave, it's a lot for one day, but I believe in you."

Conner let out a long exhale. "Can we try this again later?"

"Sure thing." Clark reached out, and Conner let him ruffle his hair. "I'll ask again in another hour."