Close Quarters (A Young Justice/Superboy fanfiction)

Brought Inside

"Clark?" He asked cautiously. The boy shook his head. "Then who are you?"

"Conner." The boy said.

This was making his head spin, so Jonathan sat beside him on the bed. "Okay... alright... and who is Conner?"

"Superboy."

Superboy? He shook his head, this didn't make any sense. Clark didn't lie to them, he could never hide something like this for so long. 

"You know." He said, admiring the boy's eerie face. "You do look just like Clark."

"I know." He said, turning back to his book. After a second or two, he laid it aside, looking up at the man again. "Who are you?"

That was rich, wasn't it? Jon almost laughed. "Jonathan Kent. This is my farm you're on."

"Kent?" The boy asked. "Like... like Clark Kent?"

"The very same." He said. "Now, how do you know my son?"

"Son?" The boy asked. "But superman was the only survivor of krypton."

"You don't have to be related to be family."

This seemed to confuse the boy. He frowned at the floor. "I thought that's what family means..."

"Well, how do you know Clark?"

"I'm his clone."

Clone? Like, pulp science fiction novel evil clone? No, that couldn't be. Jon thought a moment. No, it could be. He didn't hear much about Clark's second job, but from what he understood, this sort of thing wasn't as crazy as it sounded.

"How old are you, Conner?"

"I came to life on July forth." Conner explained. "Almost two months ago."

"You look pretty old for your age..." Jonathan observed.

"I'm supposed to be sixteen." The boy explained. "am... am I in trouble?"

"Why would you be in trouble?"

"I shouldn't be. Superman told me to stay put in here and I did." He replied. "But no one was supposed to find me."

"Why not?"

"Superman said so."

The cold of the night was starting too make Jon's Rheumatoid act up. "Come inside with me."

The boy shook his head. "Can't. Superman said to stay here."

"Well, you do what Superman says, and superman does what I say..." Jonathan reasoned. "So my wishes override his. Come inside."

Conner thought for a moment, and deciding that this made sense, he followed the man down from the loft.

Martha was in the kitchen, putting the kettle on for tea.

"There you are." She said. "Did you hear a coyote out there?"

"Hmm?"

"Did you chase off a coyote?"

"Not exactly." Jonathan scratched his short hair thoughtfully. "Marth, you might wanna put that cup down."

She did. "How come?"

He opened the door wider, revealing the boy behind him.

Martha inhaled sharply, taking the sight in. "Well," She said at last. "I'm glad you told me that, I would've dropped it."