The Ghost King's Son
So! Cloning is a difficult process.
It takes time, lots of time. Sure, it's possible to accelerate the Growth of a Clone to make them older in a shorter time frame, but that often leads to Destabilization within weeks of completion.
And Cadmus didn't want to take any chances when designing their Kryptonian/Human Hybrid. They started growing him much earlier than they originally did, and let him grow at a semi-normal rate for most of his life.
This comes back to bite them in the butt however, when an asset breaks out of containment and ruins their Internal Power Generators. This causes a blackout that takes hours to resolve, and by the time they fix it all and reestablish the Security Systems, they notice one of the Clones is missing.
The Kryptonian/Human Clone has escaped.
...
Kr-1 is confused. He had woken up in a tube a few hours ago to some alarms, and decided he didn't like it, so he broke out. Then he wandered around until he ended up outside, and just kept on Wandering.
It had been hours, and he didn't know where he was. It seemed to be some type of Forest, but he didn't know what kind.
He just kept on wandering. It started to get boring though, the trees all looked the same and there weren't even any animals around. Then, something interesting happened!
A green thing appeared in the air! It was glowing and swirly and had a kind of pull to it. So, he touched it. And it sucked him in. And now he wasn't in the Forest. And this place seemed much more interesting!
There were a bunch of floating rocks, and the sky was green, and everything else was purple.
And there was a man. Looking at him hurt his eyes, he seemed to be a kid and then an man and then an old man and then a kid again whenever he blinked. He was saying something, but Kr-1 didn't understand him. He didn't think he had been taught language yet? What was language?
The Kid/Man/Old-Man lead him to a big building made of bricks and mortar. It looked like a big spiky building with towers and walls and stuff. Inside it looked cool, with candles and carpets and even more stuff.
He was taken to a room with a guy who didn't hurt his eyes to look at. He had white hair and green eyes, but his skin wasn't blue like the old guy. He had a piece of ice on his head, it looked like a crown but it was glowing.
The Guy walked up to him and pointed to himself, and kept repeating something. "Danny".
Eventually Kr-1 realized that it was his name. He then pointed to Him and said "name?"
He tilted his head confused, and the guy, Danny, let his head fall with a sigh.
"This is gonna be harder than I thought."
He wondered what those words mean?
...
It had been a few years since the newly dubbed Conner had begun to live with Danny.
He had been hesitant to adopt the Living 9 yr old Child when Clockwork had brought him to his Castle, explaining that he had run into a Natural Portal, but he had accepted in the end.
It took a while to teach Conner how to understand Language. He seemed to know very little for a kid his age, but after Clockwork had dug around his personal timeline they figured out that he was a Clone. He probably hadn't reached the Information Planting Stage of development when he escaped.
After learning about this however, Danny began teaching him everything he should have learned in his early life, such as Elementary level education and some social interaction. He even brought around Ellie to see if she had any advice for helping him develop into a healthy young boy.
She did help a bit, but was mostly preoccupied with spoiling her new Nephew rotten.
Eventually, Conner had caught up to the level he should have been at his age, and started living in both the Realms and in Amity.
He was having a good life, had some great friends, and was even starting to learn to use his Kryptonian Powers now that they were coming in.
He loves his new Family, his Dad is goofy and fun, his Aunt Ellie likes to spoil him rotten, his Aunt Jazz is the responsible one but still loves him, and even his grandparents are great in their own Insane way.
But not all great things can last.
...
It was supposed to be a normal Field Trip. Conner was 15 and his school was taking a Trip to Washington DC, to see the sights or to learn about history or something.
But stuff happens. They just so happen to pass by a certain lab, that lab just so happens to be testing out a new Yellow Sun Energy Detector, and one of the Scientists who worked on Conner just so happens to see him in the bus as it passes by and the detector goes off.
In the end, they manage to recapture him and place him back into his Pod, beginning to prep him for Reeducation. (Let's say they mamage to repress his memories)
Cut to 1 year later and a team of Sidekicks break into the Lab and successfully steal away the Clone again.
The Clone who knows he had a dad who had black hair and blue eyes, who helped him use his powers, who looks a lot like Superman.
Conner, in his slightly Amnesiac state thinks he has already met Superman and that he had raised him. Which makes it so much more hurtful when Superman outright rejects him. He thinks his Dad just rejected him, the Dad who he thinks he remembers loving him very much.
(Danny had been frantically looking for his son for over a year now. Where is he? Is he Okay? What happened to him? He knows at least that he isn't dead yet, but he really wants to find his son)
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Absentminded
“Good morning, love,” Civilian beamed.
Villain slumped groggily on the stair rail, rubbing the leftover sleep from their eyes. “What’s got you so chipper?”
“I don’t know.” Civilian threw themselves around their neck. “Just woke up extra happy I guess.”
Villain trudged toward the table, but Civilian didn’t loosen their grip, stepping with them until they plopped into a kitchen chair.
“You going to give me any breathing space?” Villain said, even as they gathered Civilian into their lap. They were always a little resistant to affection first thing in the morning. Civilian was pretty sure they got shy. Almost like each day was a restart of their first, like they had to be sure Civilian was talking to them. It was sweet.
They shook their head into their collar. “Mm-mm.”
Villain gave them a gentle squeeze around the waist. “Just how happy are you?”
“Brimming. Overflowing. Oh! I made breakfast!”
They hopped out of Villain’s arms and swept a great plate of chocolate chips pancakes from the counter.
“You’re pancake happy?” Villain said a little surprise in their tone. “You usually only get pancake happy on your birthday or our anniversary.” They stiffened. “It’s not our anniversary is it?”
Civilian smiled, placing a reassuring hand on Villain’s shoulder. “No. It’s sort of weird I suppose. I just woke up early this morning and I was looking at you—“
“Creep.”
“Shut up.” Civilian punched them in the shoulder. “I was looking at you, and I just started thinking how happy I am that I found you. You know from the moment we met…it was like I knew you. Like I’d always known you. I guess that’s how I figured it out.”
“Figured out what, my heart?”
“That we were meant to be together.”
Villain’s smile froze, thawed into a sort of grimace, then froze again wider. A sort of thin, strained thing, like a wash rag wrung out too many times.
Civilian backtracked. “That’s cheesy isn’t it?”
“No! No! It’s wonderful! I just feel guilty! You knew much sooner than I did. I let you chase after me for far too long. I don’t���I don’t always think I deserve you.”
Civilian grinned. “I didn’t mind. You’re just more cautious. I like that about you.”
They kissed Villain’s cheek and plopped down in the seat beside them, dividing pancakes between their plates. Villain’s eyes followed their movements as they slathered the stack with butter and cream and doused it all in syrup.
“How’s work? Any schemes planned for the day?”
Villain cut their stack in section and skewered three pancake pieces on their fork. “Not until evening, but I have to leave in a couple hours to organize it. It’s a museum heist, so I’ll be home a little late.”
Civilian nodded. “Are things smoother for you without Hero around?”
Villain choked on their breakfast. Civilian leaped for the pitcher, messily pouring a glass of water, and shoving it into Villain’s hand, then rubbing their lover’s back as they chugged it down.
“Hero?” Villain croaked once they had a hold of themselves. “Why are you thinking about them all of a sudden?”
Civilian didn’t stop rubbing their back. “I saw on the news they’re putting up a memorial statue in the park this afternoon. It’s been three years since they went missing, right? How well did you know them?”
“Fairly well.”
“Oooh?” Civilian rose their eyebrows.
“Not like that. I don’t know. We just fought. It wasn’t like we actually knew knew each other.”
Civilian nodded idly. That was about what they had expected. It was just their reactions around mentions of Hero were somewhat guarded. They supposed one didn’t have to be close to somebody to be struck by their loss. “What do you think happened?”
“They probably just settled down.”
“You think they’re ok?” It was the first they’d heard that theory, most everyone thought the vigilante was dead or kidnapped or undercover.
Villain nodded. “They weren’t the type to let someone get the jump on them. Besides they were always miserable as a hero.”
Civilian cocked their head.
“They were just always exhausted and angry and breaking down. I don’t think they liked being a hero, even if they were good at it. Anyway…” Villain ate the last bite of pancake and stretched their arms over their head as they rose. “I better get dressed and get going. What are you doing today?”
“Just grocery shopping,” Civilian said. “I’m going to make orange chicken for dinner.”
“Stop spoiling me,” Villain said, kissing them first on the head.
“I guess I just can’t help it. …I love you.”
Villain hesitated, but eventually, they took Civilian’s face in their hands and pressed a long kiss to their lips. “I love you too.”
***
Civilian swung the grocery bags in rhythm with their steps. The music blasting from the speakers in the square had them swaying and skipping like a dance more than a walk. A crowd of people were gathered across the street, some dressed in blue masks and capes.
Right. The unveiling.
Civilian idly crossed the street toward the crowd. They couldn’t stay long—they had ice cream in their bag—but they couldn’t say they were uninterested in this memorial. Hero intrigued them. What sort of person was willing to sacrifice so much for other people? Even after they disappeared, they were still making an impact. There was something sort of amazing and sad about all that.
The music died down and the microphone squealed in the hands of a smartly dressed woman in a grey pencil skirt and puffy, white blouse standing on the steps in front of the covered statue.
A dull pain started behind Civilian’s eyes. Was getting up so early affecting them?
“Welcome, everyone. I appreciate you all coming out this afternoon for Hero’s statue unveiling. Hero was my friend. No, more than that. They were my mentor. And I was with them the night they disappeared. You've probably all read the story. We got a call for help at an old factory, and Hero ran ahead.
“I was only a few feet behind when I saw a flash of light through the windows. When I got inside, Hero was gone. I never saw them again. Sometimes I still expect them to turn a corner or walk onto our old training grounds. To come back into my life.”
The pain spread up into Civilian’s forehead and temples, a throbbing sensation like someone knocking on a door to get in. Or maybe to get out.
Civilian clutched the side of their face. What was going on? A really bad migraine? They probably should just head home for some pain medication and lie down. And yet…they couldn’t seem to move. They picture the scene the woman had described clearly. Almost like each painful throb was focusing the picture clearer in their head. Had they been to the same factory? Maybe they’d seen a picture in the news when Hero first went missing.
The woman stared out across the crowd.
"It left me wondering, what do we do when the person who does the saving needs saved?" She paused. "We step up. We become the heroes. Hero inspired me to be better; they wanted all of us to be better. And today we honor their belief that ‘everyone possesses a little bit of heroism; they just have to be brave enough to use it.’”
Another stab of pain, worse than the others. Almost like their skull was being ripped in two. A scream pushed up their throat, lying threateningly just behind their teeth.
Villain. They should call Villain. They dropped one grocery sack and fumbled for their phone.
“Hero was always secretive about their identity,” the woman continued in the background, “but for the first time, I would like to share with you all the face of a hero. I would like to give them the honor and credit they deserve. Ladies and gentleman…our Hero.”
The sheet dropped.
Civilian’s scream was lost in the ecstatic shouts and applause. They dropped to their knees, legs and heads and bags blocking everything the bright spots flashing across their vision did not. For moment all they could do was tuck their head into their chest against the concrete and wait, trembling fingers still a button click away from calling Villain.
After what seemed like forever, the pain dulled and they were able to stumble upright.
Slowly, they blinked the blur from their eyes, taking in the horror of what they now already knew: the statue wore their face.
***
Villain flicked on the hall lights just after midnight.
Hero sat at the center of the room, kitchen chair dragged right into the entryway.
“Sweetheart?” Villain blinked a few times. “What are you doing sitting in the dark?” They seemed to quickly read the wrongness in their face. “Is this about missing dinner? I’m sorry, I should have called, but—”
“I’m Hero.”
Villain froze. Reddened. Paled. Ever the chameleon.
“Ah, so you did know.” They weren’t sure if that was better or worse. If Villain had fallen in love with them as a civilian maybe Hero could have excused them and saved some of the aching, quivering shards of their broken heart. But knowing that the deception had been intentional, well, now Hero had the freedom to explode.
“How did you…?” Villain swallowed. “Do you remember everything?”
“Not everything, but I remember you. And I remember me. And enough events between us to know this never should have happened.”
Villain took a step forward, and immediately, Hero stood to take a step back. Another step forward. Another step back. Forward. Back. Forward. Back. Until Hero was up against the wall and Villain only an arms length apart.
“We can talk about this,” Villain said, outstretching their hand.
Hero only stared.
“In what world is this getting solved with a talk? Our entire relationship, the entire three years we’ve been together, are a lie.”
“But you’re happy! You said it yourself! You’re brimming with happiness! Overflowing with happiness! With me!”
Hero slammed their fist into the wall behind them.“Happy? You took advantage of me! Manipulated me!”
At that, Villain looked affronted. “I didn’t manipulate anyone! You approached me that night! I tried to send you away; I tried multiple times to avoid you; you didn’t want to. And when I did give in, I never pretended to be anyone other than I am. I even told you what I do, and you were all too accepting, like you’d dealt with it every day.”
“Because I had!”
“Then what was I supposed to do?” Villain cried, throwing their hands in the air.
“You could have told me!”
“That would have defeated the point!”
Hero went rigid. Villain covered their mouth. Their eyes plead for mercy Hero was not capable of giving.
“You did this?”
Villain’s lip trembled. “It was meant to be temporary. A few hours. I didn’t know it was going to last three years! I tried to make it right at first! I tried to trigger memories or to come up with some sort of reversal machine, but I couldn’t figure it out, and meanwhile, you kept coming and coming and you just seemed happier this way! And things got so good, I got scared of ruining it!”
Hero stared them down, waiting for the ramble to sputter out. Their reply was slow and cold.
“You gave me amnesia and then made me love you!”
“I didn’t make you love me.” They took Hero’s chin. “It just happened.”
And that was what hurt the most. Hero couldn’t deny it. No matter the false circumstances or how their returned memories rebelled, the feelings had been real. But veracity did not make any of it alright.”
“Then I guess this is where it ends.” Hero smiled weakly. “Goodbye, Villain.”
They felt past feeling as they edged around their lover ex-lover nemesis’s shocked form, picking up their bag, packed and ready for the last six hours, at the door.
“Hero!” Villain lurched forward, seizing them by the wrist and yanking them around. Their other hand tangled in their hair as the pulled into a desperate kiss, gruff and noxious and pleading.
Hero stomped hard on their foot, ripping away as Villain yowled and fell back. The criminal barely allowed the pain a second thought, scrambling after Hero’s determined stride.
“Hero! Hero, I love you! I love you, I love you, I love—”
“You do not!” Hero shouted. Regrettably some emotion edged in on their fury; a few tears slid down their cheek. “You loved a version of me. A dead one. A made up one. Maybe I made them up. But they are not me.”
They stormed out without another word, leaving Villain crumpled and weeping on the floor.
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