Superman is in the cave. He's been there for a full minute and twenty-eight seconds and has not yet announced his presence. It is 4:19 a.m. and Batman's patience wears thin.

"What is it, Clark?"

"I am…" He comes down to stand beside the console. He looks down, then up at the roof, seeing nothing, choosing his words. "Connor."

"You are casually cruel to him."

Superman blinks. "You don't even call him by his name."

"Your interest is sporadic at best. You offer directives but do not follow through."

"I don't know how to give him—"

"He lives to please you."

"It's too much."

"Responsibility?"

"I… never thought I'd have a—"

Liability? Partner? Sidekick? Ward? (The word hurts.) "Son?" (The word aches.)

"I can't—don't think of him that way."

"Why not, Kal?"

Superman looks as though he's been struck. "It's too—" He tries again. "To see… certain aspects of myself."

Bruce swirls his coffee, staring down into his cup. "I have had similar thoughts."

"But you—"

"Clark, I've made many, many mistakes

"He makes me realize…"

"Yes."

"That I'm both more and less than I—"

"Than you want to be."

"Than I am."

"You act as though he's more alien than you are."

Clark's brow furrows. Another direct hit.

"And yet he is yours."

"Not by my choosing.

"We do not choose our family, Clark."

Clark stares across the cave, seeing nothing.

"You think he will suffer from knowing you."

"He's… his need is so great for everything."

"You move planets. You occasionally win arguments with Lois Lane. You can handle this."

"How do you do it, Bruce?"

"You do it as well. With Tim, with Dick." With Jason.

"They're different."

"Because they do not remind you of yourself."

"Yes."

"Or more specifically, of the parts you like the least."

"Yes."

"Welcome to fatherhood, Clark."