#technically it's

“I should probably apologize for that.”

“I deserved it.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

Clark waited until boy said something else, but he just stared in the distance, chin on his knees, one hand on the axis so he didn’t slip. He never saw him so quiet and subdued.

“Is everything alright champ?”

“Is there a possibility that someone else will hear what I tell you here?”

“No.”

Phantom took a moment to built courage to speak again.

“I think I understand you now,” boy started cautiously. Clark hummed in question. He had a feeling that if he spoke kid would clam up again, “Why you fucked up with Conner at the start.”

Clark kept his face carefully neutral. Phantom was one of Superboy’s best friends and biggest defenders, often going out of his way to find Clark and yell at him after every less than ideal interaction with the boy. Sometimes he threw rocks. Sometimes even ectoplasm infused ones, that worked like weaker Kryptonite. There was one memorable time he spit on his shoes.

Phantom was last person he could ever expect any understanding from, regardless if he deserved it or not.

“You won’t tell me off for swearing this time?”

“Words are made to be used. It was appropriate description.”

Kid snorted.

“I’m citing you next time English teacher gets mad at me for swearing.”

If boy needed some small talk before getting to the point Clark could do that. He didn’t have anything to be and even if he did, Phantom took precedence. Clark may not start off too well in regard of having teenager in his care (he could be honest with himself, the way he started was probably one of the worst possible ones, and Phantom knew it well) but if, despite all that, kid came to him, only correct course of action was to do his best.

He settled on the other side of planet’s axis, there but not breaching personal space.

“I’m an alien from outer space, I don’t think I count as authority on English language.”

There was short signal from Phantom’s pocket that made him flinch, before he relaxed again. Some part of Clark wanted to burn whatever alert it was, because something was wrong and for all he didn’t say it, teen came here for help and for all he didn’t interact with them, Clark kept an eye on Team and he knew that if Phantom didn’t say what was bothering him now, chances that he’d come again where slim, but if he came in the first place meant he really, really needed some help.

“Trouble at home?”

“No, this… um… this was from Da– Wanderstar. She’s traveling right now, so we asked her to check-in once a day. It was normal sound, so she’s fine. We have call scheduled for Saturday. I’m a little stressed about it. I don’t want to mess it up.”

“Wanderstar is this girl you like?”

“No, ew. She is my clone and twelve! What the fuck Superman?!”

“Language”

“This is appropriate use. She's a baby!”

“You've been cloned.”

Phantom deflated like a punctured tire.

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s not your fault.”

“Not the meaning of sorry I meant and you know it.”

“You just said you’re not an authority on English language.”

Clark kept himself from pointing out that they got distracted from the issue again. Frankly, he wasn’t quite ready for conversation like this either, for conversation about his perspective on being cloned in general. He understood why most people focused on Conner, on how Clark kept failing the boy and should really get himself together and become present part of his life. Especially coming from the Team, who were Conner’s friends before they had any relationship with him.

But in privacy of his own heart he could admit, that he was mad that nobody ever asked how it felt to learn there was a child made out of him without his knowledge. How he was handling it. How they could make it work for both of them. Some part of him was mad that nobody saw the period when he was so paranoid of leaving any DNA after his fights, that started burning any and all blood after his fight with laser vision, searching for it like a hellhound, that he stopped throwing out coffee cups he got from people, that he scrubbed his skin before going out so it wouldn’t fall off as much, that he considered shaving his hair, because what if that’s how they got him?

And now he had the chance to talk about it all, because there was a child violated in the same way he was.

“Are you alright?”

Boy curled up even more, like being as small as possible could make him actually secure, “No,” he whispered, barely legible over soft wind.

“Do you want to talk about how you feel?”

“This is therapy speech and I have bad experiences, knock it off.”

“Sorry, it’s just… nobody ever asked me how I felt about the whole ‘being cloned’ thing and it was hard to deal with alone. You’re here, so I assume you wanted to talk. Unfortunately, social scripts do not provide good conversation started for ‘you just got cloned and have a lot of feelings about it’ talks.”

“Huh, nobody? I assumed Justice League had your back on it.”

“No, they were far more focused on tearing me down for my treatment of Conner. Understandably so, he deserved far better… whatever I am to him–”

“Wanderstar calls me her template, I think that’s the best word without involving family dynamics.”

“Yes, that’s a a good one. Anyway, Conner definitely deserved better template than I was able to be at the start, more present and understanding, and some of their reprimands were important for me to hear. But it would be nice to have at least one conversation about how it feels in my end, you know?”

“Damn, that sucks.”

“It’s okay now. Frankly, I don’t know how I’d handle talking about it back then. But you’re here, so I’m guessing you want to deal with this side of the experience. So, how does it feel.”

“I hate it. I hate it so much. I hate that I hate it, because I love Wanderstar and anything that happened is not her fault but I hate it. I hate that he somehow got me, I hate that he sent her after me, I hate that he convinced her he’d stabilize her if she got me back to him, but actually wanted to achieve The Perfect One, I hate that I keep remembering this lab, I– I hate that she’s away, because we don’t know if she won’t destabilize too and what if I won’t be able to help her on time, but I don’t think I’d be able to handle if she stayed close. I hate this whole situation and I hate that I hate it, because she genuinely is a great person and I shouldn’t not want to have her and I don’t want to not have her, but I keep feeling sick because of the how.”

“You’re not a bad template, or a bad person for hating the fact that there was whole other person made out of you, especially if you don’t make her feel like that’s the case. You are not a bad person for feeling things about something so… violating.”

“I’m a ghost. The ‘being of emotions’ as magic crowd likes to put it. I… it’s dangerous when I’m angry. It can shape me, if I’m not careful enough.”

“Every feeling being can be dangerous if they’re angry. I could destroy buildings if I’m not careful, even when I’m calm. Lex Luthor let most of his career be shaped by his fury. You’re not unique in that. You’re human.”

“Not a human.”

“Neither am I. Nor is Miss Martian or Aqualad. But we have humanity and with that comes ability to feel and permission to feel. If either of your friends were in your place and you were in mine, would you tell them they’re anger makes them bad people?”

“I told that to you.”

“No, you told me that I’m a coward for avoiding the situation, which is external action and not emotion. My actions were not the best and deserved to be called out. If your friend came to you and told you they were angry about getting cloned but kept doing their best for their clone anyway, fulfilling their wishes despite feeling bad about it, would you say that their hate makes them bad person?”

“I mean…”

“Would you ever tell any of your friends that their anger at Light or at Cadmus or whoever else who hurt them, makes them bad person?”

“No, but I’m not them! I’m not them and I can’t be angry, and I can’t hate! I can’t even dislike a holiday without universe giving me comeuppance about it, and if it strikes again, Da– Wanderstar will be hurt too!”

“You’re allowed to be angry. You’re allowed to dislike things. You’re allowed to hate things. It’s human. You’re not a monster for being human. And if Universe will ever again try to tell you otherwise, tell us. Justice League is big enough that we will be able to fight Universe for you and win.”

“We’re talking in circles.”

“It’s important that you get it.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

Clark let the issue drop for now. Worst came to worst, he could tell Dinah to handle it, she’d probably know how to get through to the teen.

“Do you get worried about Conner when we go on rogue missions?”

“I get worried even when he’s on authorized ones. I know he can handle it, I know you all can handle it, fear isn’t really rational sometimes.”

“Mhm. Wanderstar promised to stay out of trouble and to sent distress signal if she found some anyway. I’m friend with a ghost who can teleport and there are Zeta-Tubes, Bioship if worst came to worst, but I hate that she’s away. I wouldn’t be able to keep her even if emotional bullshit wasn’t in the way, because my parents don’t know I’m a hero and um… they aren’t bad people and I know they love me, but we’re still figuring out how to explain whole new person in the house to them, because I don’t trust them with truth.”

“Justice League will gladly help you find safe place for Wanderstar, if it ever becomes necessity.”

“Yeah, she asked me to not tell anyone about her and I don’t think Team would take kindly if I made her move to the Mountain. And if she decided to settle, I wouldn’t want it to be not at home, you know? It’s fine, I mostly wanted to rant about it. We have it almost figured out, I just need to come up with a way to get one ghost on board to get this idea to work, maybe get some ghost contract proofreader to make sure she can’t spin it into some disaster. I got my friends to help with that.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“It’s stupid how I can’t bear to have her so far away, but can’t handle when she’s close.”

“It’ll get easier with time.”

“I sure as fuck hope so. I’m treating this, and the calls I have scheduled with her, as an exposure therapy. It worked with Mindlink and Zeta-Tubes, it should work with her.”

Clark had no idea what to say to that confession. Phantom stood up.

“Anyway, I should get going,” he said, cheerful and almost carefree, “This was surprisingly helpful. Are you a therapist or a preschool teacher in your civilian life?”

This question startled laugh out of Clark. He’d probably do more harm than good in either of the professions.

“No, just a humble journalist.”

Phantom froze where he was slowly floating away.

“So you are authority on English!”

“Not that your teacher know of!”

Phantom darted away, flipping him off instead of answering.

It… wasn’t the best way this conversation could go, but he thought it should count as decent. And decent… decent was decent enough way to start.

Bonus part that I cut off because Danny wouldn't open up so fast and it didn't quite fit the vibe:

whenever I think about her, I think about others and about that lab…” Phantom broke off, gasping for breath, “He electrocuted me. He kept electrocuting me down there. Superman, that’s how I died.”