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Conner didn't think Clark would ever notice. He wasn't very invested in Conner's life, it seemed. Half the time he forgot it was his day with Conner anyway. He had no reason to notice anything.
He had no reason to think Clark would ever find that lead box he had stuffed into the back of his closet. The one with those sharp green shards in it that Conner couldn't seem to part with, as much as he probably should. It was bad, he knew that, he wasn't stupid.
He just couldn't make himself stop.
This week was pretty, decently, surprisingly, normal. Not good, not really, but normal.
He was currently sitting in the passenger's seat of Clark's car while Clark and Lex argued in the middle of an empty parking lot. This was why Tim said he was a child of divorce, huh?
So he sat in the car and waited. He played fake tetris on his phone. He didn't even bother to catch the things Lex and Clark were saying to each other this time. It was the same every time wasn't it?
The side door opened and Clark got in. Lex was probably already driving away. Conner said something about how he was still annoyed that he and Clark couldn't just fly home. He didn't get the usual response of having to be normal this time.
That was… new.
The rest of the ride was silent, up until they were on Clark's street, when Clark glanced at him.
"I have to talk to you, okay?"
Conner stared at him. He had no idea what he could've done this time. He nodded and stared at his hands.
And now they were here, in Clark's apartment, Conner sitting on Clark's couch, Clark standing in front of him, watching him. The box was sitting between them. Conner didn't know which higher power he'd pissed off for it to come to this, but he wanted nothing more than to leave.
"I found this when I was cleaning your room, since it was starting to smell," Clark shifted from foot to foot. "I'm sorry I invaded your privacy Kon, but just- what… is this?"
Conner bit the inside of his cheek. He dug his nails into his palm. Clark knew what it was, he knew that already.
"It's a box…?" he tried. There wasn't much of a point in playing dumb, but still, he could try.
Clark sighed.
"Conner, why have you been keeping a box of kryptonite in your room?" So he was being blunt now.
"I don't know! It doesn't matter!" He tried yelling now, almost. He wasn't loud enough to yell yet, but he was close to it.
Clark was a bit of a pushover, and he knew it. So he stood up, figuring Clark would let him storm off. He was wrong.
Clark gripped his arm, hard, it shouldn't be hard enough to hurt, but all things considered, it still did. He hoped it didn't show.
"This is serious Conner!" He moved his hand up to Conner's shoulder and turned him so they had to be looking at each other. "This is dangerous! For both of us! And it's scary, to be honest!" He let go of Conner and paced.
"You could be trying to hurt me! You could be trying to hurt yourself! You- Are you even listening to me?"
Conner just stared at the floor. Nails were once again pressed into his palms. He was biting his cheek. He honestly felt a little like he might cry, and he wasn't sure why.
There was a hand on his shoulder again. "Kon, talk to me. Please."
Conner couldn't look at him. He kept his eyes on the floor and followed the lines in the floorboards with his eyes. "I'm fine."
He was. He was fine. He had to be.
"Conner…"
And that was it. He broke.
It wasn't loud. He had thought, vaguely, that if this ever happened, it'd end with someone screaming at someone else. Maybe someone having a full blown breakdown. He didn't think it would happen like this, with Clark standing in front of him, a hand on his shoulder, annoyingly comforting like Clark always was.
And Conner just crying. Not loudly, not obviously, he wasn't sure Clark even noticed. Just small tears sliding down his face, he was pretty sure his bottom lip would be trembling too, if he wasn't now biting that. He felt small. He felt a bit pathetic.
His arm still hurt from where Clark had grabbed him. It burned, a little. That was how kryptonite was. It burned and stung and made him a little sick and healed stupidly slowly.
"I'm sorry," he wasn't sure why he said that. He didn't know why he was apologizing. Maybe because he was weak. That seemed like a good reason.
It seemed like now Clark had realized he was crying. He was getting forced into a hug and pressed into Clark's chest. He smelled good. He smelled the way his apartment did, and a bit like paper, and laundry detergent. It was much better than Lex's shitty cologne.
Clark was mumbling something and moving Conner to his couch. Conner was shaking a little now, he realized. He was being sat down, curled next to Clark, a blanket was being put over him.
Nobody talked for a long time. Conner calmed down and he didn't move. He stared at the wall. He pressed himself a little closer to Clark. Clark just shifted his arm around him and took his glasses off with his other hand.
Conner looked at his hand, he could see the little crescents in his palm from where his nails had been digging in there. He hoped that'd go away soon. He wiped at his face.
Clark must've noticed he was calmer now. Clark was also smart enough to not bring it up again. Not yet. Instead, he said: "Do you want to watch something?" and Conner found himself nodding.
He didn't pay much attention to what Clark put on. He didn't really need to, it was Star Wars again. He'd seen that enough by now that he knew what happened in it. He was pretty sure this was the only thing Clark knew to put on.
They'd been here a long time when Conner finally did talk.
"D'you ever feel like, uh, like bad things should happen to you? Because um, because maybe you're bad, or a failure, or something?" His voice was quiet, it felt a little distant. He felt distant.
Clark shifted. "Sometimes," he said slowly "do you feel like that?"
Conner nodded.
Clark didn't press for anything else, but he did pause the movie. For some reason that made Conner want to say more.
"I- it feels like that a lot, and- and Tim," he sucked in a sharp breath. He didn't know why he was telling Clark this. "Well- at his house there's this, this big thing of kryptonite. Bruce keeps it. He says it's "just in case", because he's weird." He could feel Clark sigh next to him about Bruce's paranoia.
"And this one time me and Tim were messing around and I- and I fell in it. And it hurt, really bad, and it's-" he pressed his nails into his palm again. "I think, sometimes I deserve to feel like that. Because- because I'm bad at shit. Because I'm a biological mistake, or something. Because- I don't know," oh, he was crying some, again. "S-so I took some." That was the quietest part. The smallest. Almost a whisper.
Clark took a long breath, and rubbed his hand up and down his arm. "Okay.." he started, "okay, Kon, you aren't a failure. You certianly aren't a mistake. I need you to know that first, okay?"
Conner didn't respond.
Clark kept going. "The other- I- are you hurting yourself? I won't be mad, I promise I won't, but I need to know."
Conner nodded slowly, automatically. Clark stiffened.
"Do you- do you want to die..?" Clark's voice cracked a little. Conner shook his head.
"Good- good. That's good," he sighed. "This is going to be okay, alright? We're… going to figure this out."
Conner made an "mhm," sound. Clark sighed, and they sat in awkward silence for a few more minutes, before Clark asked if they should turn the movie back on, and Conner nodded.
He wasn't sure when he fell asleep. When he woke up, he was being carried by Clark to his room. Clark held him like he might break. Conner just closed his eyes and let Clark lay him in bed.
Clark put the blanket over him slowly. He clearly hadn't realized Conner was somewhat awake, with how careful he was being to keep him asleep. He brushed Conner's hair out of his face, whispered a small "goodnight" to him, and then Conner heard the door pulled almost closed.
He hear mumbling, now, Clark was calling someone. Conner couldn't make himself care who, he just rolled over and fell back asleep.