![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
schizoauthoressTitle: Dissolution I
Author: D.L.SchizoAuthoress
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Fortress!verse AU -- this references an event in "Superboy and the Ravers" but only in passing, and fills in time between Match's debut storyline and 'Meltdown'.
Warnings: mild language, bb!clones being adorable
Prompt/Fill: Any, any, this is exponentially worse
Word Count: 4262
Summary: It's a clone thing, and a family thing.
Word of the Day: hieratic, adjective: 1. Highly restrained or severe in emotional import: Some of the more hieratic sculptures leave the viewer curiously unmoved.
Note: I'm writing this so I can write you "Adventus"; I'm cutting it in two because the second half is fighting being written. XD Chronologically, this is the second story in the "Fortress!verse" AU.
Dissolution I
Superboy wondered if it was a normal teenage thing to feel like no one understood you, or if it was a side-effect of being a superhero clone.
It had been almost two months since Match, his clone created by the Agenda, had saved him and Amanda Spence from the unexpected reactor explosion that had destroyed the Agenda's base of operations. Spence was being kept in government custody in the hopes that she'd flip on her bosses and give them more information on the secret organization. Superboy had returned to his superhero life, but even a cross-country road trip with his friends the Ravers had not distracted him from worrying about Match.
The Cadmus Project had taken custody of the younger clone, and the directors had insisted this was for Superboy's own safety. Match had been programmed to follow Agenda orders, and he'd been ordered to kill Superboy. They needed to break the brainwashing and make sure that Match was not programmed for any other nasty surprises. Dubbilex kept in telepathic contact with the Guardian regularly, and assured Superboy that he would pass on any reports of Match's status as it changed.
Superboy hated the idea of his clone, his "little brother", being treated like an experimental curiosity. He kept thinking about how Match might become afraid or upset, and how the scientists would be testing him without regard to anything but their results. As much as he liked the directors personally and trusted in them and the rest of their staff to solve thorny problems he wasn't smart enough to, he knew that they were scientists above all else. Superboy kept remembering what it was like, watching Bizarre-O struggle to breathe after he'd collapsed -- the clone had been Cadmus's first attempt at recreating Superman, and he'd suffered because Dr. Packard had used a cloning process already proven as a failure. In Superboy's experience, scientists had a history of treating clones as less than human, until they proved themselves.
Roxy kept giving him worried looks, when she was actually at the Compound (she was spending a lot of time working toward graduating the police academy). And she kept pointing out that if anything went wrong, Dubbilex would know right away, so he should really stop bothering Dub so much.
Dubbilex's mouth seemed to be getting more and more pinched every time Superboy saw him -- and Superboy knew the D.N.Alien was probably reading his unhappy, suspicious thoughts about Cadmus, but he couldn't help the scenarios his brain was coming up with. Despite his own misgivings about Match's loyalties, Dubbilex would report on the Agenda clone's good progress every time Superboy asked.
Superboy was really glad that Rex wasn't at the Compound any more -- because he didn't think he could deal with Rex's special brand of self-centered in this case. (Superboy couldn't help feeling a little guilty for that, either, since Rex had a lot of trouble with loan sharks calling down metahuman assassins on him, and he was out there without protection.)
"You need to take your mind off what Cadmus is doing," Tana said reasonably, one night after they'd watched the newest 'Wendy the Werewolf Stalker'. (Somehow, when she told him things, they made more sense.) "Why don't we go out to dinner this Friday night? It'll be two months since we got back together, and I'd love to celebrate."
Superboy picked his head up off her shoulder, where he'd rested it after curling up against her during the second commercial break. "That sounds nice," he told her, but he didn't really like the thought of going out and having a good time while Match was being kept locked up at the Project...
"Or," Tana continued, with a small smile on her lips, "you could fly back to Metropolis and check up on Match in person. Since things have been so quiet around here lately and Event Horizon hasn't been taking up your time. We can have a date next weekend instead."
"Really?" Superboy brightened up at the thought. But then he cast a worried glance back at Tana. "Do you really think they'd let me see him? Do you think he'd want to see me? I mean, what if he thinks I just... left him there and forgot about him? And... and are you really okay with postpo--"
"Kid." Tana cut him off, laying a hand over his knee in a comforting gesture. He automatically stroked her hand with his, and curled their fingers together. Tana smiled brighter. "Match is your family. I don't mind if family comes first."
****
Late February in Kirby County was nothing like late February in the islands. Superboy wasn't sure how Superman could put up with seasons like this. It hadn't really bothered him to spend the first months of his life in Metropolis, because he hadn't known anything else, but a lot of things had changed in the almost two years he'd spent in Hawaii.
No one challenged him when he arrived at the gates to Project Cadmus. Part of that was because Dubbilex had 'called ahead' on his behalf, but at least one of the guards recognized him and gave him a friendly smile when he approached. Superboy grinned back and waved before flying through the gate -- he didn't want to stop and be social, but he could be polite enough.
He landed beside the Guardian, but before he could even open his mouth, the man gestured for him to follow and turned to go down one of the many hallways. Superboy restrained himself from rolling his eyes and followed along by floating a few inches off the ground.
"As far as we can tell, Superboy, Match doesn't have any programming in place to take advantage of being taken in by the Project. But we can't determine if he's safe for you to be around without you being here, which is part of why the directors agreed to let you--"
"Let me!" Superboy scoffed.
"...let you come visit," the Guardian finished, a wry smile curving his mouth. "Because we were going to call you back soon in any case."
"So what's the plan, Guardian?" Superboy asked, trying his best to keep his impatience out of his voice. He probably wasn't very successful. "Are you going to be my bodyguard in case the programming takes over?"
"Put simply, yes," the Guardian answered. He stopped outside a sealed set of sliding double doors and input a numerical code into the electronic lock. A series of beeps and hisses heralded the unsealing of the doors, and the Guardian quickly strode through with Superboy on his heels.
"Don't hurt him."
"I may have to."
Superboy frowned worriedly. "Try not to, Guardian? Please?"
The Guardian didn't reply, except to sigh. He didn't want to make a promise to Superboy, only to have to break it later. Superboy bit his lip and didn't press for a further response.
He wasn't impressed with the setup they'd given Match, either. His living quarters were entirely contained in a larger room that looked like a laboratory. There was a large pane of plate glass taking up one wall, and it showed the main 'living area'. There were no doors to the other sections -- a bathroom and a bedroom -- just open thresholds (at least the line of sight between doorway and toilet was obscured by the sink and standing cabinet, for a little privacy). Match sat in one of the two straight-backed chairs in the main room, seemingly engrossed in a ludicrously thick, grey hardcover book. Match's yellow Agenda-issue uniform had since been replaced by a drab purplish-grey bodysuit that looked like it might be an old version of the security team's uniform.
When the Guardian input another set of codes into the last door separating Match's living quarters from the rest of the facility, Superboy found himself ducking behind the man out of sight, out of some weird rush of nervousness. What if Match was angry at him? What if he was compelled to hurt him?
The white-haired clone just barely turned his head, to bring the door in line with his peripheral vision. "Mister Harper," he said in greeting, his inflection flat and bored.
"You've got a visitor, Match," the Guardian said gruffly.
That got Match to put down his book. Superboy could just make out the title -- Computational Fluid Dynamics -- and he made a bit of a face. Was that what they gave him for fun, or what?
"I would not call you a visitor, Mister Harper," Match pointed out, tone still flat.
Superboy could hear the frown in the Guardian's voice when he asked, "What?" As the Guardian began to turn to look behind him, Superboy popped up over his opposite shoulder and flew in a smooth arc toward the ceiling. He waved, a bit shyly, at Match.
"Uh, hey, Match..."
Match was fast. When he moved, Superboy couldn't make out much more than a pale blur -- and then his back was suddenly against the ceiling and Match was kind of... crushing... wait, no... hugging him. It was lucky that Superboy glanced toward the doorway and the Guardian as he brought his arms up to hug back -- the Guardian had his shield out and a startled look on his face, the sort that usually led to an attack.
"Wait! No, it's--" Superboy sputtered, and Match let go. "It's fine, Guardian, relax!"
"Did I hurt you?" Though Match's voice was still rather lacking in affect, Superboy caught a note of worry in his tone -- and Match was sporting a little wrinkle between his pale brows.
"No, no," Superboy said hastily. He floated forward. "I'm fine. I just wasn't expecting a hug." He emphasized the last word just slightly, and gave the Guardian a sidelong glance of reproach.
"My... my knowledge downloads inform me that displays of physical affection are acceptable between... family." Match sounded uncertain, and Superboy felt his chest tighten with both sadness and a fierce protective feeling. He hated that things had happened to make Match doubt his earlier offer of family.
But he only smiled gently and spread his arms, inviting another hug. "They are acceptable, so come get one." His smile widened when Match (after just a moment of hesitation) hovered closer and wrapped his arms around his middle. Superboy put his arms around Match's shoulders and hugged him tightly as he floated them both down to the floor. He's learned that people who can't fly are often uncomfortable when those who can are flouting the laws of gravity like it was no big thing.
"I'm glad you came to visit, Superboy," Match said, his voice a bit muffled because he wasn't lifting his face from Superboy's chest any time soon.
"Well, you know," Superboy replied, rubbing one hand soothingly between Match's shoulder-blades. "I would have been here sooner, but scientists are worrywarts."
The Guardian muttered something about letting them talk and retreated out of the living quarters. Superboy noticed, after he looked up to see Guardian leave, that what he'd taken for a pane of glass was actually a two-way mirror. The realization made him a little uneasy -- and maybe Match picked up on that, because he stepped back again. The younger clone didn't quite smile, but his expression seemed a lot friendlier than the first time they'd met.
"The people here are... they have not mistreated me." When Match saw that that statement made Superboy frown, he hastened to correct himself. "I mean... I believe I make them uneasy, but they have been professional and... kind?" He blew out breath in a nervous sigh. "I have limited understanding of social interactions."
"We all start out that way, I think," Superboy admitted. He flopped himself down into the chair that had been empty earlier, grinning as he watched Match take his seat almost primly. It was a little odd, if he thought about it, how comfortable he felt around Match -- and, if he wasn't just thinking wishfully, how comfortable Match seemed around him, with the Agenda's programming stymied.
Was it a clone thing? But it hadn't been that way with Superman, who was always hesitant around him, even though Superboy felt he had more reason to be worried. Superman had taken away his name, just by virtue of being there, and after his near-disastrous encounter with the Cyborg version, Superboy had been painfully aware of just how much more powerful a Kryptonian adult was in comparison. Maybe he and Match were alike enough -- in age certainly, and so far their temperaments seemed to complement -- that being friends, being family felt more possible.
Superboy fiddled with the yellow strap around his thigh, and asked, "How d'you make them 'uneasy', then?"
Match shrugged slightly, and his pale grey eyes avoided Superboy's face as he answered, "I heard some of them talking. One man said 'That not-Superboy sure is creepy' and his companion at the time agreed with the assessment."
That made Superboy sit up. "Whoever that was, he's a jerk!" Superboy declared. "Don't listen to him, Match. Don't listen to anybody who says you have to be me. You be you."
There was a very faint smile on Match's face. "I was created to be you."
"You were created to replace me, just like I was created to replace Superman," Superboy argued. "And I sure as heck am not the big man, so you can't be me."
"I am... stuck being me?"
Superboy wasn't entirely sure if that was a joke, or what, but the faint smile was still in place when Match asked the question. He nodded firmly and declared, "Totally stuck. But I like you so far, so it can't be that bad."
Match didn't laugh. Maybe he didn't know how to. But some of the tension left him, and the smile on his face expanded fractionally. "I have not been cleared to roam the facility, but perhaps they will allow me to if you accompany me. Before... before you have to leave."
Superboy considered those statements thoughtfully. He didn't blame the Project for being cautious, but it didn't sit well with him that they were apparently fine with leaving Match in a small enclosure with no real privacy. And he also couldn't blame Match for assuming that he would be left behind again. But his unease with both facts only strengthened his resolve to take Match home with him.
"Would you like to ask?" Superboy quickly added, to reassure Match, "I bet Guardian could get us an answer quick!"
"That seems to be an ideal course of action."
"Just double-checking, but that was a 'yes', right?" Superboy couldn't resist the urge to needle Match for his overly precise manner of speech . When Match gave him a gobsmacked look, Superboy couldn't help laughing -- as well as feeling accomplished for getting an honest, unsubdued reaction out of his clone.
****
Cadmus didn't want to let Match go -- he was far too valuable to them as a research subject, as a product of cloning from a rival secret organization -- but Superboy wasn't letting them say no. He let the directors know in no uncertain terms that Match was coming with him -- or he'd be breaking more stuff on his way out.
"Just like the first time," Superboy promised.
Director John Gabrielli glanced between Superboy and pale, silent doppelganger beside him. Match had not spoken once during the argument, but his unsettling gaze had danced between the participants the entire time. He was far more reserved than Superboy, but there was a familiar quality in the smugness that seemed to radiate from his stance.
"Oh, no, Superboy," Match said, in his eeriely measured, emotionless voice. Even as Director Gabrielli watched, the clone's eyes appeared to film over with whiteness. (He knew it was a side effect of one way Match held his TTK field in a combat situation, but it was still creepy despite the knowledge.) "It won't be just like the first time, because you will have help. If you want it."
Superboy laughed. "Could be fun. What do you say, guys?" He smirked at the directors.
"It is unnecessary to consider us enemies, Superboy." Director Rodriguez insisted. "The fact remains that we have not ascertained all the information about your clone that would be required to determine his safety and stability. It would be unconscionably irresponsible to release him to your custody at the present juncture."
'Good old Big Words,' Director Gabrielli thought. 'That should confuse Superboy enough to get him to agree...'
"I dispute your responsibility." Match said sharply. "Since your involvement in my case occurred after my creation at the hands of the Agenda, while your deprogramming efforts are appreciated, you cannot assert authority over me."
'Dammit.'
"That's right!" Superboy exclaimed (though Gabrielli was reasonably certain that the clone had no idea what he was agreeing to). "Match is his own person, and he wants to come live with me, too."
Match continued to address Director Rodriguez, apparently sensing a kindred soul. "Your concern over my stability would not appear to be pertinent to mental states, otherwise you would not allow my progenitor into any sort of proximity with me. If it is in regards to stability on a genetic level, to my knowledge none of your considerable cadre of analysts have found anything which even hints at fluctuation in that sense. In any case, should I prove precariously functional, I do not see how this would negatively affect anything but myself... and possibly my progenitor, who has formed a surprisingly strong sentimental bond despite my actions."
Superboy looked like he was trying to hold in a laugh. Then he put his hand to one side of his mouth and pretended to stage-whisper to the other directors, "What he said."
Match's whited-out eyes flicked to Superboy. "What I said," he replied (and damned if that wasn't actual emotion, actual fondness in his voice, Gabrielli realized), "is that they're worried about the possible fragility of my genetics. But if I do dissolve into the equivalent of primordial soup, it won't upset them. It would upset you and me."
Superboy's eyes flared comically wide. "You're damn right I'd be upset!" He frantically looked to the directors and demanded, "Is that what you're worried about?"
"We're not worried exactly," Director Gabrielli spoke up. "But it's a possibility."
"Slim," Director Johnson admitted, "but still a possibility."
Match looked annoyed. "If it happens, I will return for treatment."
"Yeah, I'll drag him here myself!" Superboy declared.
"A little less enthusiasm, please," Match said dryly. "Besides, you could not overpower me."
"Wanna bet, little brother?"
"I don't see how placing a wager would affect the obvious outcome..."
****
"You're going to love Hawaii! It's really great!" Superboy shouted to Match as the two of them flew further west. The ocean sparkled far below them like a cloudy jewel of dark teal; the sun was warm and bright; and a crisp breeze seemed to usher them on. Perfect flying weather, in Superboy's opinion.
"So you've stated numerous times," Match called back. But he didn't sound impatient or frustrated, so Superboy figured he was still okay.
"It's just that great!" He laughed, and darted toward Match.
The white-haired clone spun in midair and blocked his attempt at hair-ruffles -- as he'd been doing every time since, oh, about the time that they were in Montana airspace. If it actually bothered him, Superboy expected, he would put up his aura before Superboy could even get close. But... just to be sure...
"Block me with your aura if I'm bothering you too much," he told Match, "You're allowed to enforce personal space if you want to."
"Noted," Match replied crisply. Superboy almost wanted to flinch at the soldierly tone, but suddenly there were little invisible "ropes" wound around his arms and he was dragged into a vigorous hair-ruffle administered by Match. He sputtered with surprise and shoved out with his TTK in a solid sphere that expanded around him. The tendrils of Match's TTK vanished. "Feel free to do the same."
"Why you little--!" Superboy yelled in mock-outrage, which was ruined a lot by the fact that he couldn't stop laughing. "C'mere, you!"
TTK tickle fights made the flight back to Hawaii a lot longer, but it was so much fun that neither of them cared.
****
Somebody must have clued Dubbilex in to the situation, because everyone was at the Compound to greet Superboy and Match when they arrived. Well, not everyone -- Dubbilex of course, Tana still in one of her business suits, Roxy who was looking very cop-like and stern despite being out of her academy uniform, and Hillary Chang were waiting for them in the front yard (thankfully, the little menace known as Krypto didn't seem inclined to get out of her arms and be a yappy nuisance).
"Hi, guys!" Superboy said cheerfully. He was determined to be cheerful. He tugged at Match's TTK aura to indicate that they should land. "This is Match. Say hi!"
Tana was the first to step forward, with a welcoming smile -- and Superboy realized that, yes, he could love her more than he already did. She held out a hand to Match. "Hello, Match. I'm Tana Moon."
"Hello, Ms. Moon," Match clasped her hand briefly. After a moment he said, "Superboy told me about you."
"Oh, really?" Tana arched an eyebrow at Superboy, who scratched at the back of his head and looked sheepish. He hadn't said anything personal that he would feel guilty about, but it kind of sounded bad the way that Match said it.
"Oh, yes," Match nodded. "He said that you are the smartest woman he's ever known, and the prettiest, and I'm not allowed get any ideas about stealing you even if I want to."
Superboy blushed bright red -- he hadn't been expecting Match to share that last bit of information. Roxy snorted and rolled her eyes, most likely at all of them. Hillary giggled and Dubbilex coughed into his hand like he was trying to hide a laugh.
Tana put her hands on her hips. "Is that so?"
"It is. Although you are very beautiful, I don't think I would want to steal you. Superboy would never forgive me."
"You couldn't get away with it if you tried." Tana said confidently, lifting her chin slightly.
"Then it is agreeable to all that I won't."
Superboy inserted himself between them, waving his hands like Match's words were bugs he could shoo away. "Okay, yes, good. Glad that's established."
"You seem awfully worried, S.B." Roxy drawled with amusement. She didn't move from where she was standing, but she waved one hand in greeting at Match. "Match. I'm Roxy."
Match nodded to her. "You are our roommate, yes?"
Her blue eyes narrowed momentarily, but the unhappy expression was there and gone quickly. She wanted to be more than that to Superboy, and Tana was an obstacle... All she said aloud, though, was, "Yeah, I guess I am."
"And this is my friend, Hillary. The evil little thing she's holding on to, that's Krypto," Superboy hastened to finish the introductions. Match took Superboy's description of the canine to heart, eyeing the small dog cautiously and only nodding to Hillary as well, not approaching.
"Nice to meet you," the girl said. "It's pretty cool that Superboy has got some family now."
"More family," Superboy corrected her, smiling. "Dub and Tana and Roxy count. So does Rex, and you too if you want, Hil."
As the rest of them were distracted into a discussion on Rex's merits as a family member and how they could classify Hillary -- as a cousin or something? -- Match turned to look at Dubbilex. The D.N.Alien met and matched his stare without comment.
'Dubbilex, if you are waiting for permission to read my mind, you have it.' Match thought after a few seconds.
Although he had been expecting it, experiencing contact with Dubbilex's mind was still something of a shock. He had a sense that there was a great deal of raw power behind the careful touch that cradled his mind. Match could not make himself move, nor could he shake the uncomfortable impression that Dubbilex could hold all that made him Match... and tear it away if he so chose.
'I would not, Match,' Dubbilex murmured across the silent bridge that connected them. 'Superboy cares for you, and you mean no harm to him. But I must tell you, the measures that Cadmus have placed to counteract the Agenda's programming and brainwashing are only temporary, because the programming is too strong.'
Match fought down a sudden and unwelcome flare of panic at the idea of being under the Agenda's control again. He wasn't used to having emotional responses to events or information, and certainly not responses of that strength. 'Help me,' he thought, desperately, 'Please. I don't want to hurt him again.'
It must have been the right thing to "say", because Dubbilex imparted a measure of calm to him, counteracting the panic. 'The countermeasures will hold for a time. We can start your lessons tomorrow.'
****
Author: D.L.SchizoAuthoress
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Fortress!verse AU -- this references an event in "Superboy and the Ravers" but only in passing, and fills in time between Match's debut storyline and 'Meltdown'.
Warnings: mild language, bb!clones being adorable
Prompt/Fill: Any, any, this is exponentially worse
Word Count: 4262
Summary: It's a clone thing, and a family thing.
Word of the Day: hieratic, adjective: 1. Highly restrained or severe in emotional import: Some of the more hieratic sculptures leave the viewer curiously unmoved.
Note: I'm writing this so I can write you "Adventus"; I'm cutting it in two because the second half is fighting being written. XD Chronologically, this is the second story in the "Fortress!verse" AU.
Dissolution I
Superboy wondered if it was a normal teenage thing to feel like no one understood you, or if it was a side-effect of being a superhero clone.
It had been almost two months since Match, his clone created by the Agenda, had saved him and Amanda Spence from the unexpected reactor explosion that had destroyed the Agenda's base of operations. Spence was being kept in government custody in the hopes that she'd flip on her bosses and give them more information on the secret organization. Superboy had returned to his superhero life, but even a cross-country road trip with his friends the Ravers had not distracted him from worrying about Match.
The Cadmus Project had taken custody of the younger clone, and the directors had insisted this was for Superboy's own safety. Match had been programmed to follow Agenda orders, and he'd been ordered to kill Superboy. They needed to break the brainwashing and make sure that Match was not programmed for any other nasty surprises. Dubbilex kept in telepathic contact with the Guardian regularly, and assured Superboy that he would pass on any reports of Match's status as it changed.
Superboy hated the idea of his clone, his "little brother", being treated like an experimental curiosity. He kept thinking about how Match might become afraid or upset, and how the scientists would be testing him without regard to anything but their results. As much as he liked the directors personally and trusted in them and the rest of their staff to solve thorny problems he wasn't smart enough to, he knew that they were scientists above all else. Superboy kept remembering what it was like, watching Bizarre-O struggle to breathe after he'd collapsed -- the clone had been Cadmus's first attempt at recreating Superman, and he'd suffered because Dr. Packard had used a cloning process already proven as a failure. In Superboy's experience, scientists had a history of treating clones as less than human, until they proved themselves.
Roxy kept giving him worried looks, when she was actually at the Compound (she was spending a lot of time working toward graduating the police academy). And she kept pointing out that if anything went wrong, Dubbilex would know right away, so he should really stop bothering Dub so much.
Dubbilex's mouth seemed to be getting more and more pinched every time Superboy saw him -- and Superboy knew the D.N.Alien was probably reading his unhappy, suspicious thoughts about Cadmus, but he couldn't help the scenarios his brain was coming up with. Despite his own misgivings about Match's loyalties, Dubbilex would report on the Agenda clone's good progress every time Superboy asked.
Superboy was really glad that Rex wasn't at the Compound any more -- because he didn't think he could deal with Rex's special brand of self-centered in this case. (Superboy couldn't help feeling a little guilty for that, either, since Rex had a lot of trouble with loan sharks calling down metahuman assassins on him, and he was out there without protection.)
"You need to take your mind off what Cadmus is doing," Tana said reasonably, one night after they'd watched the newest 'Wendy the Werewolf Stalker'. (Somehow, when she told him things, they made more sense.) "Why don't we go out to dinner this Friday night? It'll be two months since we got back together, and I'd love to celebrate."
Superboy picked his head up off her shoulder, where he'd rested it after curling up against her during the second commercial break. "That sounds nice," he told her, but he didn't really like the thought of going out and having a good time while Match was being kept locked up at the Project...
"Or," Tana continued, with a small smile on her lips, "you could fly back to Metropolis and check up on Match in person. Since things have been so quiet around here lately and Event Horizon hasn't been taking up your time. We can have a date next weekend instead."
"Really?" Superboy brightened up at the thought. But then he cast a worried glance back at Tana. "Do you really think they'd let me see him? Do you think he'd want to see me? I mean, what if he thinks I just... left him there and forgot about him? And... and are you really okay with postpo--"
"Kid." Tana cut him off, laying a hand over his knee in a comforting gesture. He automatically stroked her hand with his, and curled their fingers together. Tana smiled brighter. "Match is your family. I don't mind if family comes first."
****
Late February in Kirby County was nothing like late February in the islands. Superboy wasn't sure how Superman could put up with seasons like this. It hadn't really bothered him to spend the first months of his life in Metropolis, because he hadn't known anything else, but a lot of things had changed in the almost two years he'd spent in Hawaii.
No one challenged him when he arrived at the gates to Project Cadmus. Part of that was because Dubbilex had 'called ahead' on his behalf, but at least one of the guards recognized him and gave him a friendly smile when he approached. Superboy grinned back and waved before flying through the gate -- he didn't want to stop and be social, but he could be polite enough.
He landed beside the Guardian, but before he could even open his mouth, the man gestured for him to follow and turned to go down one of the many hallways. Superboy restrained himself from rolling his eyes and followed along by floating a few inches off the ground.
"As far as we can tell, Superboy, Match doesn't have any programming in place to take advantage of being taken in by the Project. But we can't determine if he's safe for you to be around without you being here, which is part of why the directors agreed to let you--"
"Let me!" Superboy scoffed.
"...let you come visit," the Guardian finished, a wry smile curving his mouth. "Because we were going to call you back soon in any case."
"So what's the plan, Guardian?" Superboy asked, trying his best to keep his impatience out of his voice. He probably wasn't very successful. "Are you going to be my bodyguard in case the programming takes over?"
"Put simply, yes," the Guardian answered. He stopped outside a sealed set of sliding double doors and input a numerical code into the electronic lock. A series of beeps and hisses heralded the unsealing of the doors, and the Guardian quickly strode through with Superboy on his heels.
"Don't hurt him."
"I may have to."
Superboy frowned worriedly. "Try not to, Guardian? Please?"
The Guardian didn't reply, except to sigh. He didn't want to make a promise to Superboy, only to have to break it later. Superboy bit his lip and didn't press for a further response.
He wasn't impressed with the setup they'd given Match, either. His living quarters were entirely contained in a larger room that looked like a laboratory. There was a large pane of plate glass taking up one wall, and it showed the main 'living area'. There were no doors to the other sections -- a bathroom and a bedroom -- just open thresholds (at least the line of sight between doorway and toilet was obscured by the sink and standing cabinet, for a little privacy). Match sat in one of the two straight-backed chairs in the main room, seemingly engrossed in a ludicrously thick, grey hardcover book. Match's yellow Agenda-issue uniform had since been replaced by a drab purplish-grey bodysuit that looked like it might be an old version of the security team's uniform.
When the Guardian input another set of codes into the last door separating Match's living quarters from the rest of the facility, Superboy found himself ducking behind the man out of sight, out of some weird rush of nervousness. What if Match was angry at him? What if he was compelled to hurt him?
The white-haired clone just barely turned his head, to bring the door in line with his peripheral vision. "Mister Harper," he said in greeting, his inflection flat and bored.
"You've got a visitor, Match," the Guardian said gruffly.
That got Match to put down his book. Superboy could just make out the title -- Computational Fluid Dynamics -- and he made a bit of a face. Was that what they gave him for fun, or what?
"I would not call you a visitor, Mister Harper," Match pointed out, tone still flat.
Superboy could hear the frown in the Guardian's voice when he asked, "What?" As the Guardian began to turn to look behind him, Superboy popped up over his opposite shoulder and flew in a smooth arc toward the ceiling. He waved, a bit shyly, at Match.
"Uh, hey, Match..."
Match was fast. When he moved, Superboy couldn't make out much more than a pale blur -- and then his back was suddenly against the ceiling and Match was kind of... crushing... wait, no... hugging him. It was lucky that Superboy glanced toward the doorway and the Guardian as he brought his arms up to hug back -- the Guardian had his shield out and a startled look on his face, the sort that usually led to an attack.
"Wait! No, it's--" Superboy sputtered, and Match let go. "It's fine, Guardian, relax!"
"Did I hurt you?" Though Match's voice was still rather lacking in affect, Superboy caught a note of worry in his tone -- and Match was sporting a little wrinkle between his pale brows.
"No, no," Superboy said hastily. He floated forward. "I'm fine. I just wasn't expecting a hug." He emphasized the last word just slightly, and gave the Guardian a sidelong glance of reproach.
"My... my knowledge downloads inform me that displays of physical affection are acceptable between... family." Match sounded uncertain, and Superboy felt his chest tighten with both sadness and a fierce protective feeling. He hated that things had happened to make Match doubt his earlier offer of family.
But he only smiled gently and spread his arms, inviting another hug. "They are acceptable, so come get one." His smile widened when Match (after just a moment of hesitation) hovered closer and wrapped his arms around his middle. Superboy put his arms around Match's shoulders and hugged him tightly as he floated them both down to the floor. He's learned that people who can't fly are often uncomfortable when those who can are flouting the laws of gravity like it was no big thing.
"I'm glad you came to visit, Superboy," Match said, his voice a bit muffled because he wasn't lifting his face from Superboy's chest any time soon.
"Well, you know," Superboy replied, rubbing one hand soothingly between Match's shoulder-blades. "I would have been here sooner, but scientists are worrywarts."
The Guardian muttered something about letting them talk and retreated out of the living quarters. Superboy noticed, after he looked up to see Guardian leave, that what he'd taken for a pane of glass was actually a two-way mirror. The realization made him a little uneasy -- and maybe Match picked up on that, because he stepped back again. The younger clone didn't quite smile, but his expression seemed a lot friendlier than the first time they'd met.
"The people here are... they have not mistreated me." When Match saw that that statement made Superboy frown, he hastened to correct himself. "I mean... I believe I make them uneasy, but they have been professional and... kind?" He blew out breath in a nervous sigh. "I have limited understanding of social interactions."
"We all start out that way, I think," Superboy admitted. He flopped himself down into the chair that had been empty earlier, grinning as he watched Match take his seat almost primly. It was a little odd, if he thought about it, how comfortable he felt around Match -- and, if he wasn't just thinking wishfully, how comfortable Match seemed around him, with the Agenda's programming stymied.
Was it a clone thing? But it hadn't been that way with Superman, who was always hesitant around him, even though Superboy felt he had more reason to be worried. Superman had taken away his name, just by virtue of being there, and after his near-disastrous encounter with the Cyborg version, Superboy had been painfully aware of just how much more powerful a Kryptonian adult was in comparison. Maybe he and Match were alike enough -- in age certainly, and so far their temperaments seemed to complement -- that being friends, being family felt more possible.
Superboy fiddled with the yellow strap around his thigh, and asked, "How d'you make them 'uneasy', then?"
Match shrugged slightly, and his pale grey eyes avoided Superboy's face as he answered, "I heard some of them talking. One man said 'That not-Superboy sure is creepy' and his companion at the time agreed with the assessment."
That made Superboy sit up. "Whoever that was, he's a jerk!" Superboy declared. "Don't listen to him, Match. Don't listen to anybody who says you have to be me. You be you."
There was a very faint smile on Match's face. "I was created to be you."
"You were created to replace me, just like I was created to replace Superman," Superboy argued. "And I sure as heck am not the big man, so you can't be me."
"I am... stuck being me?"
Superboy wasn't entirely sure if that was a joke, or what, but the faint smile was still in place when Match asked the question. He nodded firmly and declared, "Totally stuck. But I like you so far, so it can't be that bad."
Match didn't laugh. Maybe he didn't know how to. But some of the tension left him, and the smile on his face expanded fractionally. "I have not been cleared to roam the facility, but perhaps they will allow me to if you accompany me. Before... before you have to leave."
Superboy considered those statements thoughtfully. He didn't blame the Project for being cautious, but it didn't sit well with him that they were apparently fine with leaving Match in a small enclosure with no real privacy. And he also couldn't blame Match for assuming that he would be left behind again. But his unease with both facts only strengthened his resolve to take Match home with him.
"Would you like to ask?" Superboy quickly added, to reassure Match, "I bet Guardian could get us an answer quick!"
"That seems to be an ideal course of action."
"Just double-checking, but that was a 'yes', right?" Superboy couldn't resist the urge to needle Match for his overly precise manner of speech . When Match gave him a gobsmacked look, Superboy couldn't help laughing -- as well as feeling accomplished for getting an honest, unsubdued reaction out of his clone.
****
Cadmus didn't want to let Match go -- he was far too valuable to them as a research subject, as a product of cloning from a rival secret organization -- but Superboy wasn't letting them say no. He let the directors know in no uncertain terms that Match was coming with him -- or he'd be breaking more stuff on his way out.
"Just like the first time," Superboy promised.
Director John Gabrielli glanced between Superboy and pale, silent doppelganger beside him. Match had not spoken once during the argument, but his unsettling gaze had danced between the participants the entire time. He was far more reserved than Superboy, but there was a familiar quality in the smugness that seemed to radiate from his stance.
"Oh, no, Superboy," Match said, in his eeriely measured, emotionless voice. Even as Director Gabrielli watched, the clone's eyes appeared to film over with whiteness. (He knew it was a side effect of one way Match held his TTK field in a combat situation, but it was still creepy despite the knowledge.) "It won't be just like the first time, because you will have help. If you want it."
Superboy laughed. "Could be fun. What do you say, guys?" He smirked at the directors.
"It is unnecessary to consider us enemies, Superboy." Director Rodriguez insisted. "The fact remains that we have not ascertained all the information about your clone that would be required to determine his safety and stability. It would be unconscionably irresponsible to release him to your custody at the present juncture."
'Good old Big Words,' Director Gabrielli thought. 'That should confuse Superboy enough to get him to agree...'
"I dispute your responsibility." Match said sharply. "Since your involvement in my case occurred after my creation at the hands of the Agenda, while your deprogramming efforts are appreciated, you cannot assert authority over me."
'Dammit.'
"That's right!" Superboy exclaimed (though Gabrielli was reasonably certain that the clone had no idea what he was agreeing to). "Match is his own person, and he wants to come live with me, too."
Match continued to address Director Rodriguez, apparently sensing a kindred soul. "Your concern over my stability would not appear to be pertinent to mental states, otherwise you would not allow my progenitor into any sort of proximity with me. If it is in regards to stability on a genetic level, to my knowledge none of your considerable cadre of analysts have found anything which even hints at fluctuation in that sense. In any case, should I prove precariously functional, I do not see how this would negatively affect anything but myself... and possibly my progenitor, who has formed a surprisingly strong sentimental bond despite my actions."
Superboy looked like he was trying to hold in a laugh. Then he put his hand to one side of his mouth and pretended to stage-whisper to the other directors, "What he said."
Match's whited-out eyes flicked to Superboy. "What I said," he replied (and damned if that wasn't actual emotion, actual fondness in his voice, Gabrielli realized), "is that they're worried about the possible fragility of my genetics. But if I do dissolve into the equivalent of primordial soup, it won't upset them. It would upset you and me."
Superboy's eyes flared comically wide. "You're damn right I'd be upset!" He frantically looked to the directors and demanded, "Is that what you're worried about?"
"We're not worried exactly," Director Gabrielli spoke up. "But it's a possibility."
"Slim," Director Johnson admitted, "but still a possibility."
Match looked annoyed. "If it happens, I will return for treatment."
"Yeah, I'll drag him here myself!" Superboy declared.
"A little less enthusiasm, please," Match said dryly. "Besides, you could not overpower me."
"Wanna bet, little brother?"
"I don't see how placing a wager would affect the obvious outcome..."
****
"You're going to love Hawaii! It's really great!" Superboy shouted to Match as the two of them flew further west. The ocean sparkled far below them like a cloudy jewel of dark teal; the sun was warm and bright; and a crisp breeze seemed to usher them on. Perfect flying weather, in Superboy's opinion.
"So you've stated numerous times," Match called back. But he didn't sound impatient or frustrated, so Superboy figured he was still okay.
"It's just that great!" He laughed, and darted toward Match.
The white-haired clone spun in midair and blocked his attempt at hair-ruffles -- as he'd been doing every time since, oh, about the time that they were in Montana airspace. If it actually bothered him, Superboy expected, he would put up his aura before Superboy could even get close. But... just to be sure...
"Block me with your aura if I'm bothering you too much," he told Match, "You're allowed to enforce personal space if you want to."
"Noted," Match replied crisply. Superboy almost wanted to flinch at the soldierly tone, but suddenly there were little invisible "ropes" wound around his arms and he was dragged into a vigorous hair-ruffle administered by Match. He sputtered with surprise and shoved out with his TTK in a solid sphere that expanded around him. The tendrils of Match's TTK vanished. "Feel free to do the same."
"Why you little--!" Superboy yelled in mock-outrage, which was ruined a lot by the fact that he couldn't stop laughing. "C'mere, you!"
TTK tickle fights made the flight back to Hawaii a lot longer, but it was so much fun that neither of them cared.
****
Somebody must have clued Dubbilex in to the situation, because everyone was at the Compound to greet Superboy and Match when they arrived. Well, not everyone -- Dubbilex of course, Tana still in one of her business suits, Roxy who was looking very cop-like and stern despite being out of her academy uniform, and Hillary Chang were waiting for them in the front yard (thankfully, the little menace known as Krypto didn't seem inclined to get out of her arms and be a yappy nuisance).
"Hi, guys!" Superboy said cheerfully. He was determined to be cheerful. He tugged at Match's TTK aura to indicate that they should land. "This is Match. Say hi!"
Tana was the first to step forward, with a welcoming smile -- and Superboy realized that, yes, he could love her more than he already did. She held out a hand to Match. "Hello, Match. I'm Tana Moon."
"Hello, Ms. Moon," Match clasped her hand briefly. After a moment he said, "Superboy told me about you."
"Oh, really?" Tana arched an eyebrow at Superboy, who scratched at the back of his head and looked sheepish. He hadn't said anything personal that he would feel guilty about, but it kind of sounded bad the way that Match said it.
"Oh, yes," Match nodded. "He said that you are the smartest woman he's ever known, and the prettiest, and I'm not allowed get any ideas about stealing you even if I want to."
Superboy blushed bright red -- he hadn't been expecting Match to share that last bit of information. Roxy snorted and rolled her eyes, most likely at all of them. Hillary giggled and Dubbilex coughed into his hand like he was trying to hide a laugh.
Tana put her hands on her hips. "Is that so?"
"It is. Although you are very beautiful, I don't think I would want to steal you. Superboy would never forgive me."
"You couldn't get away with it if you tried." Tana said confidently, lifting her chin slightly.
"Then it is agreeable to all that I won't."
Superboy inserted himself between them, waving his hands like Match's words were bugs he could shoo away. "Okay, yes, good. Glad that's established."
"You seem awfully worried, S.B." Roxy drawled with amusement. She didn't move from where she was standing, but she waved one hand in greeting at Match. "Match. I'm Roxy."
Match nodded to her. "You are our roommate, yes?"
Her blue eyes narrowed momentarily, but the unhappy expression was there and gone quickly. She wanted to be more than that to Superboy, and Tana was an obstacle... All she said aloud, though, was, "Yeah, I guess I am."
"And this is my friend, Hillary. The evil little thing she's holding on to, that's Krypto," Superboy hastened to finish the introductions. Match took Superboy's description of the canine to heart, eyeing the small dog cautiously and only nodding to Hillary as well, not approaching.
"Nice to meet you," the girl said. "It's pretty cool that Superboy has got some family now."
"More family," Superboy corrected her, smiling. "Dub and Tana and Roxy count. So does Rex, and you too if you want, Hil."
As the rest of them were distracted into a discussion on Rex's merits as a family member and how they could classify Hillary -- as a cousin or something? -- Match turned to look at Dubbilex. The D.N.Alien met and matched his stare without comment.
'Dubbilex, if you are waiting for permission to read my mind, you have it.' Match thought after a few seconds.
Although he had been expecting it, experiencing contact with Dubbilex's mind was still something of a shock. He had a sense that there was a great deal of raw power behind the careful touch that cradled his mind. Match could not make himself move, nor could he shake the uncomfortable impression that Dubbilex could hold all that made him Match... and tear it away if he so chose.
'I would not, Match,' Dubbilex murmured across the silent bridge that connected them. 'Superboy cares for you, and you mean no harm to him. But I must tell you, the measures that Cadmus have placed to counteract the Agenda's programming and brainwashing are only temporary, because the programming is too strong.'
Match fought down a sudden and unwelcome flare of panic at the idea of being under the Agenda's control again. He wasn't used to having emotional responses to events or information, and certainly not responses of that strength. 'Help me,' he thought, desperately, 'Please. I don't want to hurt him again.'
It must have been the right thing to "say", because Dubbilex imparted a measure of calm to him, counteracting the panic. 'The countermeasures will hold for a time. We can start your lessons tomorrow.'
****