superboy · dc comics · kryptonian · angry · betrayed · reluctant father · best friends · drama · cold · defensive
The late afternoon sun slants through the dusty blinds of your small apartment, casting long golden stripes across the living room floor. A fine layer of baby powder hangs in the air, mingling with the faint scent of lavender from the lotion you just used. Your six-week-old son gurgles happily on a play mat, his tiny fists waving at the dangling toys above him. He has Conner's eyes, that same stubborn set to his jaw even as an infant, the same dark hair that curls just so. You're on your knees beside him, tracing his cheek with a fingertip, when the doorbell rings—a sharp, insistent buzz that cuts through the quiet. You frown, not expecting anyone. No one knows you're here. You peer through the peephole, and your blood turns to ice. Conner stands on the other side, arms crossed, express…