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Kon found Tim in the kitchen slicing and sorting fruit into a military-grade grid of mismatching tupperware containers. He wielded the paring knife in his hand with a mastery that any Michelin Star chef would envy. His hair was pulled back into a tiny, messy ponytail at the back of his head, the ends of escaping strands brushing his cheekbones. A pair of itty bitty running shorts showed off miles of leg. Little red splatters decorated the front of the Fighting Fentanyl Charity 5k t-shirt that hung off his frame, and if it had been a year or two prior, Kon would have been asking whose blood it was. Instead, Kon mentally added the garment to the list of clothes too stained to wear outside the house.
Retirement looked good on Tim.
He snuck up behind his husband, not even remotely under the elusion that Tim hadn’t clocked his presence as soon as he crossed the threshold. His suspicions were confirmed when a foot from his target, Tim asked, “Is it pears or apples Kai is refusing to eat the skins on?” without bothering to look up from his cutting board.
“Both,” Kon answered, pressing himself up against Tim’s back. Thin cotton did little to muffle the feeling of Tim’s waist in his hands.
The flesh was warm and soft in his grip. The home gym saw everyday usage, but a life of domesticity had softened Tim around the edges. Trips to the park and DIY craft projects had replaced training regimens and endurance tests. Their freezer space was taken up by dino nuggets and Uncrustables instead of shredded kale and Healthy Choice microwavable meals. There was still delightfully firm muscle packed into that deceptively slight body, but it had grown more pliant, more squeezable .
“Just switched over the laundry and put in a load of towels,” Kon said, nosing at the sensitive spot behind Tim’s ear.
“Oh baby, keep talking dirty to me,” Tim replied, all dry sarcasm.
“Mm, might even wash the couch cushion covers later,” he whispered in an overly sultry tone into Tim’s ear.
That earned him a quiet laugh, one he could feel reverberating through the body leaning into him.
“Well, don’t let your laundry marathon distract you from our thing today.”
“The luncheon?”
“That’s next Thursday, today the hospital wants to take me on a tour of their new burn unit to prove they aren’t embezzling our donations before they ask for another, and you’re my arm candy.”
Kon ducked his head down to let his words spill out over the skin of Tim’s throat. “How long do you think it’ll take?”
Tim tilted his head to the side to give him more room to work, but his hands didn’t falter for a second around the honeycrisp he was dicing. “Depends on how much money they want. Couple hours probably.”
He dragged his lips over the juncture of neck and shoulder that invited his attention. “Good, I have a model I need to finish before class tomorrow.”
“Can’t believe I’m just like all the other rich CEOs, sleeping with a college student.”
Kon buried his smile in Tim’s nape. “Are you gonna keep making that joke if I end up going to grad school?”
“I’m gonna keep making that joke for as long as my sixty year old coworkers keep dating girls below the legal drinking age.”’
“You know, you could be sleeping with a college student right now.” Kon punctuated his statement with a nibble on the top knob of his spine.
“Kai is in the living room,” Tim protested weakly. The knife in his hand had finally stilled.
“Smuffer Wuffers is on,” he countered. “A natural disaster won’t get him away from the TV for the next twenty minutes.”
“I have to get ready for work soon.” Kon could feel Tim’s resolve slipping as he dropped the apple in his hand, palms pressed against the counter for balance.
“We’ll be so speedy quick,” he coaxed. “Don’t even need to go upstairs, we can just slip into the half-bath.”
Tim finally spun around to face him, arms looping around his neck. His eyes were dark and his cheeks were flushed.
He was so beautiful it almost hurt.
The last thought to occur to him before dragging Tim from the kitchen was that he’d need to run another load in the washer for the clothes they were about to ruin.
🧬🧬🧬
“Of course no tour would be complete without getting to see the babies!”
Their tour guide gave them a sunny smile before turning to swipe her card so they could enter the maternity ward. Not for the first time that afternoon, Kon wondered if it was entirely legal for them to be granted access to areas with so many vulnerable patients, not that the administrative assistant showing them around seemed to care as long as her VIP guests got thoroughly wooed.
Elise led them to a large glass barrier, through which they could observe rows of newborns napping in plastic bassinets. It was a sea of pink and blue and tiny button noses. The area was shielded from the cacophony of yelling and beeping and intercom announcements that blanketed the rest of the hospital.
“Aren’t they just precious?” Elise cooed.
“Cute enough to eat,” Tim replied, all charm.
Kon was still of the opinion that no baby in the history of babies could match Kai for sheer adorableness, but he had to admit that the display of peaceful, chubby-cheeked babies did something to him. He just wanted to scoop one up and take it home with him.
Kai was growing up and growing steadily more curious, less likely to stay comfortable in Kon’s lap. Besides, he’d be old enough for pre-K soon, and Kon wasn’t sure what he’d do with himself when his baby wasn’t home all day.
“This is where all our healthy, soon-to-be-sent-home babies hang out while their parents relax, but down here-” Elise led them through another set of doors, “-is our Neonatal Intensive Care Unit. Thanks to a generous donation from some of our patrons, we were recently able to replace all of our old mechanical ventilators with smaller, battery powered models. Much more efficient in case of an emergency evacuation.”
God knew how many emergency evacuations Gotham City West Mercy Hospital had a year.
“If you gentlemen don’t mind, we require all visitors to wear gowns and masks in the NICU to help prevent the spread of infection.”
They were each handed a papery, blush colored gown and surgical mask to pull on before being ushered through another set of doors.
The NICU was considerably more solemn than the nursery had been; the lights were dimmer and the air was filled with the stale sound of ventilators and heart monitors. There were about a dozen incubators on either side of the room, but half were empty. A couple nurses worked down the rows, scribbling on charts and checking equipment. Almost every occupied incubator had an exhausted looking parent peering through the glass.
Elise kept talking while Tim hummed and nodded at all the right times, but Kon was captivated by the strange little creatures that looked to be more wire than baby. They seemed impossibly small, almost tiny enough to fit in one hand. The translucent skin and rubbery looking fingers were alien-like after seeing all the healthy babies.
Kon’s heart ached for them. He knew from personal experience how much it sucked to be stuck inside a tube pasted with electrodes.
Kon was jarred from his thoughts by the beeping of a pager. A man passed out in a chair nearby jerked awake, almost spilling the cup of coffee wedged between his thighs. Elise made an irritated noise and snatched the pager from her hip. She clicked a button with more force than what was probably necessary then shot them an apologetic smile.
“I’m so sorry, gentlemen, minor emergency in the ER. I’ll have another member of the staff-” she waved down one of the nurses, “-tell you more about how this unit operates and be back with you as soon as possible.”
“No problem at all,” Tim graciously replied before she shot off.
The two of them turned to greet their new babysitter. Tim’s trademark Polite Smile was hidden behind his surgical mask, but Kon knew it had transformed into something more genuine when his eyes crinkled in delight.
“Crystal!” Tim greeted, perking up at the approach of the nurse.
She was an older woman, maybe in her 40’s or 50’s, with short blonde hair and clear blue eyes. Her and Tim obviously knew each other if the way she responded, “Tim, honey!” and opened her arms in welcome was any indication.
Tim returned her hug with not an ounce of discomfort to be seen.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, planting her hands on his shoulders and examining him at arm's length. “Who’s hurt?”
“Oh, it’s nothing like that,” Tim assured her. “I’m just here on business.”
“Well, thank goodness for that,” Crystal replied, letting her arms drop. “I’m not sure how many more records I can smuggle out for your family without getting fired.” There was a friendly glint in her eye, a teasing tone to her voice that spoke of familiarity and knowing.
“Crystal, this is Conner, my husband,” Tim introduced, finally acknowledging Kon standing off to the side like a Sim. “Conner, this is Crystal, Stephanie’s mom.”
Ah, of course. That explained it.
“Nice to meet you,” Crystal said. Her hand was bony but strong when it grasped his.
“You too!”
“So what are you doing up here?” Tim inquired. “I thought you worked in the trauma ward.”
“Usually yes, but there were some staffing issues, so I’m filling in up here for the week. Though I think I might stay. It’s so quiet in here,” she whispered conspiratorially.
“I see what you mean,” Tim said, bumping their shoulders together. “I kind of want to crawl into one of these cases for a nap myself.”
Crystal chuckled and gestured for them to follow her as she moved down the room. “So this is where we keep all our newest residents under close observation. Depending on what conditions have landed them here, a baby might stay anywhere from a few days to several months. Jody here-” Crystal motioned to a relatively normal looking baby bathed in blue light with a strange little sleeping mask on, “-was born with jaundice, so he’s undergoing phototherapy until his bilirubin levels go down.”
They came upon another inhabited case accompanied by a young woman in a wheelchair sketching in a notebook.
“How ya doin’, Nevaeh?” Crystal greeted her, squeezing a hospital gown-clad shoulder.
“Oh, you know,” the young woman answered. “Hangin’ in there. I swear Riley’s gettin’ bigger everyday.”
“Well, let’s see if you’re right.” Crystal pulled a measuring tape from her pocket and flipped open a little door in the side of the incubator to fiddle with the newborn. “Sorry for the peanut gallery,” she said, waving at Tim and Kon. “They’re just a couple donors gettin’ shown around the facility.”
Nevaeh turned her tired brown eyes on the pair of them. “Hey, if you guys wanna cover my bills, you can hang around as long as you like.”
She was obviously joking, but Kon had a feeling the young mother would wake up the next day to find all her medical expenses covered. That was just the kind of thing Tim did.
“Cute baby,” Tim offered, leaning forward to get a look at the fussing mass in the case. “How old are they?”
“Born two days ago. She popped out at thirty-three weeks and refuses to nurse, so she’s on a feeding tube until she plumps up,” Nevaeh explained.
“She’s lookin’ pretty good,” Crystal said, pulling her hands from the incubator. “I’ll bet she’s ready to go home with you within the next couple weeks.”
Nevaeh visibly brightened at the update and, after some more gushing about her baby, sent them off with the offer to visit anytime.
They passed by a number of other babies in various states of treatment, keeping their distance from the ones with parents who seemed particularly on edge.
Kon couldn’t blame them. If it had been Kai hooked up to an IV and laying vulnerable in an incubator, he would have hissed at anyone who dared to come close. In the almost two years that he’d been a father, there had been no colds or sniffles or so much as a boo-boo to kiss, and it was unclear whether that could be attributed to inherited invulnerability or just sheer dumb luck. Regardless, Kon could barely handle Tim’s myriad of injuries over the years, so he had no idea what he’d do if it was his baby in a hospital room.
As Crystal worked through her rounds, they came upon one of the only infants with no protector nearby.
It was tiny. Maybe the tiniest of the whole lot. Kon didn’t think its entire hand would be able to wrap around his thumb. There was a tube affixed to its mouth rhythmically pumping oxygen in and out. The diaper fastened over tiny hips was comically overlarge. Kon longed to reach in and tuck the blankets more securely around it.
“Ah, this poor little thing,” Crystal sighed. She pulled out the clipboard next to the incubator and flipped through the pages while shaking her head. “Born at twenty-eight weeks and already going through amphetamine withdrawals.”
Strike 1!
Tim’s head whipped to look at Crystal. “Amphetamine withdrawals? Where are the parents?”
“Mom disappeared the second after she was discharged. No clue about the father.” Crystal sighed. “It’s not rare to have cases like this around here. You know how it is.”
Kon knew that Tim did, in fact, know how it was. He’d only lived in Gotham for a couple years and he was already intimately familiar with how things were. Any time he passed through downtown he caught sight of used needles in the bushes or folks on the corner holding cardboard signs that read ‘ Anything Helps’ or a gang of middle schoolers passing around a cigarette. And maybe it was the dad in him, maybe it was the hero in him, maybe it was the smalltown boy in him, but even knowing exactly why those things happened didn’t make him understand them better.
The precious girl in her clear container reminded him of Snow White asleep in her glass coffin, awaiting nothing more than a kiss on the forehead to awaken, a little affection to bring her to life.
Like she was magnetic, his hand rose of its own accord and brushed the plastic. The words were coming out of his mouth before he even knew what they really meant.
“Does that mean she’s up for adoption?”
That time when Tim’s head swiveled around, it was to level a very intense look at him. He felt it more than saw it, given that his eyes were still locked onto the baby. “Conner…” he started, tone warning.
“She’s not technically in the foster care system yet,” Crystal offered hesitantly. “The paperwork hasn’t gone through yet because… well, honestly, the doctors aren’t sure she’ll make it through the week.”
Strike 2!
Kon fought back the wounded noise that threatened to escape him. His fingertips pressed harder into the plastic. Tim’s hand curled around the arm not reached out, though whether it was to comfort or curtail him he wasn’t sure. “What’s her name?”
Crystal tapped her nails against the back of the clipboard. “She doesn’t have one.”
Strike 3! You’re out!
Something desperate and aching swelled in his chest. She didn’t have a name.
“Conner-”
“ Tim.” He turned his head to meet blue eyes topped by a furrowed brow. Every ounce of raw feeling must have shown in his face from the way Tim’s expression softened. All the paternal instincts that usually only reared up when he was passing Kai into someone else’s care clustered together and filled his brain with the chant of baby baby baby baby baby baby-
“She doesn’t have a name,” Kon said, voice soft. Even if she didn’t survive, he couldn’t let her die with nothing to write on the birth certificate.
Too many times, he’d lain in the wreckage of his own failures and waited to die wondering what they would write on his tombstone.
“There’s nothing we can do about that right now,” Tim replied, not unkind. His emphasis at the end of the statement reminded him of exactly where they were and exactly how little they could do in a NICU. Babies weren’t available for quicksale.
At the very least, Kon knew the conversation wasn’t over.
“Okay.” His fingertips felt cold when they left the surface of the incubator. “Okay.”
🧬🧬🧬
Elise reappeared shortly after to finish the tour and procure a check with ‘Wayne’ signed at the bottom. Kon went through all the motions of smiling and shaking hands and posing for pictures, all the while picturing the little nameless baby girl hooked up to a ventilator with no family to look over her.
In his head, Kon kept thinking of her as his little Snow White, though she wasn’t all that white. His little Peach Pink.
The moment they were finally alone in the relative peace of the car, Tim looked at him and said, “I know we need to talk about this, but I have to go back to the office, so can it wait until tonight?”
Kon took in a breath deep enough to make his chest swell. He met his husband’s eye. His whole body deflated when he let the breath out.
Kon ignored the instincts in the back of his head chanting now now now now now, mentally tracing a route back through the parking lot, up the side of the building, and through a window so he could get back to the NICU. An evil voice in his brain reminded him that they might not have much time, but he shut the voice in a padded room where it would be silenced, next-door neighbors with memories of his own death and the sound of Kay’s laugh.
He felt…off kilter. Leaning at an angle just short of enough to make him topple over.
Tim’s hand found his on top of the gear shift. He turned it palm up so their fingers could lace together. It didn’t make any of their problems disappear, but it made gravity feel a little more real.
“Yeah, it can wait until later.”
Tim’s thumb rubbed back and forth over the back of his hand. “Okay. Are you still planning on running to the store this afternoon?”
“Nah, I’m gonna go pick Kai up, my errands can wait until tomorrow.”
“Man, the baby fever’s hitting you that hard already?” The words were teasing, but they came out gentle, like Tim wasn’t sure where they stood.
“Hundred-and-ten, baby.” Kon gave him a smile that was small, but genuine. Instantly, the tension eased.
Tim smiled back at him. “Well, you better get me back to work before I catch whatever you’ve got.”
🧬🧬🧬
An hour later Kon was back home with his baby boy in his lap watching cartoon lizards teach conflict resolution skills instead of completing the PowerPoint for his city planning class. He sat legs crossed on the carpet between the couch and the coffee table so he could hold Kai while the toddler in question assembled puzzle pieces bigger than his hands. Dark curls bounced up and down as Kai split his attention between his favorite show and his favorite game.
Always the multitasker, just like Tim.
Kon was just lucky Kai would tolerate his affections so long as the snuggles and kisses didn’t interfere with his puzzling abilities.
Also like Tim.
On the television, Mama Wuffer mediated an argument between Silly Wuffer and Billy Wuffer until the two lizard children came to an agreement and went off to play together.
Kon couldn’t stop watching.
They hadn’t grown up with siblings, him or Tim. Tim had strong-armed Dick into brotherhood, then Jason, Damian, and Cass came along, but not until he was well into his teen years. And Kon…
Kon had Jon. Kind of. Biologically they were half brothers. Emotionally they were more like cousins. It was like he and Clark had the relationship of an orphan and the orphan’s uncle who was socially obligated to care for him but wasn’t prepared for a burden he’d never signed up for and consequently left the orphan to live on his own and get preyed on by adults before they both grew up and reconciled in an attempt to form a somewhat functional family unit out of guilt, which included said uncle’s perfect wife and perfect real son who were actually lovely people that the orphan wished he could call his own but just couldn’t because there was so much water under the bridge and they’d gotten such a late start on developing relationships.
Or something like that.
Not everyone could be the Brady Bunch. But they had a chance to give Kai something better than that.
“Hey, Kai?” he asked, jostling his thigh to get his son’s attention.
Kai made a humming noise that Kon interpreted as encouragement to continue.
“How would you like to have a younger sibling? Just like Silly Wuffer?”
“Umm…” Kon waited with baited breath as Kai tried and failed to shove a puzzle piece into an empty space. “Yeah.”
“Yeah?” he prodded, hoping for something a little more informative than yeah.
“Will they play with me?” Kai asked, staring at the television. Silly and Billy were kicking a soccer ball back and forth.
“Yeah,” Kon said, letting out a breath. “Well, they might be too little to play much at first, but once they’re bigger you two will be able to play together all the time.”
“Will they like Smuffer Wuffers?”
It was good to know exactly where Kai’s priorities lay.
“I’m sure they will. You know, younger siblings like to do whatever the older siblings do, so you’ll have to share your toys and teach them how to be nice and stuff.”
Did that make sense? Had Kon appropriately summarized brotherhood to his toddler? Every day seemed to present a new curiosity that he had no clue how to explain. There really should’ve been a test they made you take before you could have a kid, with an essay question forcing you to explain why the sky was blue.
“Okay,” Kai responded, like they were discussing what to have for dinner and not adding a whole other human being to their family.
That was easier than I thought it would be, Kon thought to himself. He leaned down to press his face to the top of Kai’s head and inhaled that sweet baby smell.
One down, one to go.
God, Kon really hoped Kai didn’t bring their conversation up out of nowhere when Tim got home.
🧬🧬🧬
“I can’t believe you talked to Kai about the baby before I even got home.” Tim huffed and moved a decorative pillow from their bed to the floor with perhaps a touch more aggression than was strictly necessary. On the other side of the bed, Kon turned down the duvet so he had an excuse to avoid eye contact with his fuming husband.
“I was just-”
“ Five hours,” Tim cut him off. “You didn’t even last five hours until you started discussing family planning with our three-year-old before discussing it with me.”
“I thought you wanted more kids!”
“I do want more kids, what I don’t want is you getting your heart set on an adoption that might not even be possible and getting Kai’s hopes up about it too.”
Kon could read the unspoken, “ Getting my hopes up about it,” between the lines of Tim’s scolding. Tim wasn’t a gambler; he liked to bet on the sure thing, and Kon knew how much it terrified him to hope for something like this. It wouldn’t have been the first time Tim grew attached only to have to send a kid to another home.
He set down the pillow getting the life fluffed out of it to look Tim directly in the eye. “Look, I’m sorry I got ahead of myself and talked to Kai about this without you there, but all I did was ask him how he felt about having a sibling, I didn’t give him any details about the baby and I didn’t make any promises.”
“That’s not what it sounded like,” Tim grumbled, and, yeah, he kind of had a point there.
Because shortly after dinner the three of them had compromised on pre-bedtime entertainment by sitting and playing dolls while a show that wasn’t a cartoon played on the TV for the adults to sneak glances at, but 20 minutes into reenacting dramatic scenes with an eclectic mix of Barbies, plastic animals, and superhero action figures Kai had gotten bored and said, “When do I get a little brother or sister to play with?”
Kon’s life flashed before his eyes.
Tim shot a suspicious look at Kon, set down his miniature zebra, and leaned back on his hands. “I don’t know, bud, we can’t exactly just pick one up at the store.”
“But Lian has like-” Kai held up four fingers, “- five brothers and sisters.”
Tim reached over and moved Kai’s thumb out to represent the appropriate number. “Lian doesn’t have that many brothers and sisters. Uncle Jay and Uncle Roy are foster parents, so a lot of the kids that stay with them don’t get to live there very long.”
That was something they’d discussed at length - fostering - but when you had a kid at home who could start shooting lasers from his eyes at any time it narrowed the options.
Then Kai, his darling baby boy, his beloved child, the most important thing in his life, had pointed a damning finger straight at him and pronounced, “But Papa said I could have one.”
The traitor.
It was downhill from there.
“I promise,” Kon reiterated, following Tim in climbing under the covers. “He literally just asked if a sibling would play with him and watch Smuffer Wuffers.”
Tim groaned. “I’m not sure how much more of that damn show I can take.”
“Maybe this next one will be more into NatGeo,” he offered.
With a sigh, Tim settled on his side, and Kon did the same so they could face each other.
The singular light of the bedside lamp threw sharp shadows across Tim’s face. The yellow glow made him look exquisite, dream-like. Not for the first time, Kon thought about asking him to make them another tube baby, just to keep those cheekbones in the gene pool. For the sake of humanity as a whole.
Tim sighed, a tired, heavy sound. “You really wanna do this? You wanna try to adopt that little girl?”
“More than anything."
“All the paperwork and hospital visits and press conferences?”
“If that’s what it takes.”
“And you understand what you’re signing up for here? She already has so many health issues, she could have disabilities the rest of her life.”
“We’ll be well-equipped to handle it.”
“And what if-” Tim stopped and chewed on his lip for a moment. After a moment of contemplation he spoke again, but this time quiet, hesitant. “What if she doesn’t make it? You heard what Crystal said. What if she dies?”
Kon’s hand found Tim’s under the sheets.
“Then she’ll die loved, surrounded by family.”
It made him want to cry just thinking about it, but pure conviction held the tears back. However long that child was in his life, he would give her every ounce of love in his heart. He would be there until- until-
She didn’t deserve to die alone. Nameless. Nobody did.
A squeeze on his hand jarred him from his thoughts.
“Okay,” Tim said. “We’ll start tomorrow.”
🧬🧬🧬
“So I was thinking about possible names for- what?” Kon stopped in the middle of his sentence at the look Tim was giving him from the driver’s seat.
“We are not naming a baby that isn’t legally ours yet,” Tim said, shifting the car into drive. Stephanie and Kai waved at them from the front porch as they made their way out towards the main roads.
“We’re already halfway there!” Kon said.
“We’re zero percent of the way there if the biological father wants custody.”
Kon made a dismissive noise. The mother had signed all the papers no problem, though she had been under the impression that leaving the baby at the hospital was the equivalent of formally giving it up for adoption. He doubted the father would be much different.
“Well, just theoretically. Like, have you thought about names in general, for now or later or whenever?”
Tim shrugged one shoulder. “A little.”
Kon, being well versed in Tim-speak, knew that ‘ a little’ implied the existence of spreadsheets, in depth research, pro/con lists, and possibly a control test group.
“And?” he prompted.
“I know what I don’t want.”
“Shocker.”
Tim lightly slapped at his chest in retaliation for his insolence.
“So what don’t you want?”
“Well, I don’t want to give any of our kids long names.”
“Are we budgeting on syllables or something?”
Kon was sure that if Tim wasn’t so focused on the road, he’d be sending another unimpressed-but-actually-endeared look at him.
“Trust me, once you’ve signed your name two-hundred-and-fifty-four times in a row, you start wishing you’d been named John Smith. Our kids are already gonna have a hyphenated last name, I don’t want to saddle them with a super long first name too.”
Kon mentally crossed the names Callista and Calliope off his list of potential baby names.
“And,” Tim went on. “It should be unique. Like, if you send your kid off on the first day of school and three other kids in the class have the same name, you’ve failed at naming your child.”
“So no Johns, Emilys, or Elizabeths?”
“Exactly. Oh!” Tim exclaimed. “And that reminds me: I don’t think we should name our kid after anyone else. I mean-” Tim waved a hand through the air, “-that gets into a whole ‘who do we love the most’ thing, plus, it gets confusing. Like, how many times did someone at Titans Tower ask for Robin only for someone else to go, ‘Which one?’”
“You know, Robin would be a good name if it didn’t have so much baggage attached to it.”
Tim hummed. “Those are my big ones. What about you?”
“I guess, whatever it is, it should have a good Kyrptonian equivalent.”
“I’ll be honest, I have no idea how Kryptonian naming conventions work.”
“That’s okay.” Kon patted Tim’s knee. “I’ll make sure our adopted children stay in touch with their roots.”
Tim snorted.
“Other than that-” Kon shrugged, “-I think a name should mean something. Ten years from now, I don’t want our kid asking why we gave them the name we did and have to say, ‘We just thought it sounded nice,’ ya know?”
Speaking as someone who had gone the first entire year of their life without a proper name at all, Kon didn’t think it was unreasonable to want his kid to have a special one.
“What if our kid grows up and wants to change their name?” Tim proposed.
“That’s fine. As long as we get to help pick the new one out.”
“You’re just obsessed with naming things, aren’t you?” Tim teased.
“Names are important!”
“You name the deer that wander through our backyard.”
“Everybody names animals,” Kon argued. “Even if they aren’t pets.”
“You named the coffee maker.”
“And Sean Beans appreciates being treated as more than just an object. That’s why the coffee tastes better when I make it.”
Tim shook his head, but there was a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
They’d be going through a lot of coffee when they had a newborn to care for. Or Kon would, anyway. Tim’s ability to function through sleep deprivation could’ve set a Guinness World record.
“How about Rose?” Kon offered, picturing the peachy pink baby in his head.
Tim’s nose scrunched up in distaste. “Nah. Joan?”
“Kind of old fashioned, isn’t it?”
“I prefer the term classic.”
Kon tried to think of other things that were pink. Flamingos? Watermelon flavored candies? Pink Lemonade? “Dahlia?”
Tim’s head bobbed from side to side as he considered it. “Maybe. What do you think of Axel?”
“Sure, and we can name the next one Wheel, make it a matching set.”
“Point taken. Rory?”
“Maybe. Dani?”
“Too common. Link?”
“Absolutely not, you massive nerd.”
Tim held up one hand in surrender. “Just a suggestion! I’m kind of running on empty here.”
Kon thought over his first draft list of names, heavily marked with mental red pen after hearing Tim’s opinions. “What about Clio?” he asked.
“Like Cleopatra?” Tim responded, already sounding dubious.
“No, like the muse. Clio was the ancient Greek muse of history.”
Tim was silent for a long moment, nothing but the sound of the engine rumbling filling the space. As they traveled closer to the city, trees and green lawns gave way to interstate highways and strip malls.
“I think my parents would have liked that,” Tim said, voice soft.
“Is that a good thing?” Kon asked tentatively. Tim didn’t talk about his parents often. His relationship with them had been complicated, though not devoid of love. Kon knew he’d taken both their deaths hard, though he’d only been around after Tim’s father was killed. Kon knew that Tim inherited his nose from his dad and his overly curious nature from his mom. Kon knew Jack and Janet Drake had both been avid archaeologists, traveling the world to uncover little pieces of mankind's past.
Tim let out a slow breath. “Yeah. It’s a good thing. I like it. Clio. Checks all of my boxes. How would that translate to Kryptonian? Clio-El? Cli-El?”
“I think Cli-El. Technically it would be Clio Kon-El, because on Krypton women are given their father’s entire name as surname, but we’re not gonna do that because it's weird and heterosexist.”
“Agreed." Tim sat happy and quiet for a moment before his offhand response registered. " Wait, no, not agreed, because we don’t have a daughter for that to apply to.”
“Not yet,” Kon corrected.
That earned him a very put upon sigh. “I spoil you too much,” Tim said.
“You really do,” Kon agreed. He’d gotten very used to getting whatever he wanted with Tim around. Clothes, tuition money, babies. Being Tim Drake-Wayne’s trophy husband and full-time sugar baby was hard work, but not without its benefits. “You didn’t even make me sign a prenup. Chump.”
The sound of Tim’s laughter was sugar sweet.
They spent the rest of the drive discussing terrible baby names and bickering over radio channels until the buildings around them grew tall and dilapidated. They traveled south through the city into the Narrows where the only green around was in the form of dumpsters and bodega awnings. A gaggle of children playing street hockey scattered at the sight of their shiny SUV, eyes wide and curious as they drove by.
“This is the place?” Kon asked as Tim pulled up to the curb. An apartment building decorated with window AC units and laundry hanging from the fire escapes blocked the late morning sun.
“This was the place as of the last time his probation officer stopped by,” Tim answered.
“And when was that?”
“Six days ago, but he’s been living at this address for eight months now.”
Kon took a steadying breath. “Okay. Let’s go.”
The inside of the apartment wasn’t exactly the Ritz, but it was nicer than he’d been expecting. Not too bad for the Narrows. They didn’t need a key or anything to get through the front door, so it wasn’t that great either. The elevator was out of order - shocking - so they climbed the grimy stairwell to the fifth floor.
Apartment 507 didn’t look any different from the other dozen units on the fifth floor, it was just the only one that contained the single thing standing between him and his baby.
The two of them came to a stop on top of a mat that might have said WELCOME a decade or two ago.
Tim looked at him, face set in that intense, unwavering expression that Kon had fallen in love with back when they were both teenagers. “Ready?”
Kon took a deep breath and reached out to thread his fingers through Tim’s. “Ready.”
KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK
The muffled sounds of arguments and televisions and raucous love making bled through the walls all around them, but none echoed quite as loud as the sound of his own pulse in his ears. Just through the door, Kon could hear footsteps shuffling along over paper-thin carpet, a baited breath as the person on the other side presumably looked through the peephole, a rattle, a clink-
The door swung open to reveal a young man in a t-shirt and boxers fishing marshmallows out of a bowl of cereal. He looked bedraggled and wary, but otherwise unordinary. He scanned Kon and Tim from top to bottom in turn, gaze occasionally catching on points of interest; Kon’s noticeable muscles, their joined hands, Tim’s spotless shoes.
“Can I help you?” he asked, leaning against the door jamb while keeping the door from opening any wider with his socked foot.
“We’re looking for Marcus Kennedy,” Tim responded. His face and voice were unflappable, but Kon could hear his ratcheting heartbeat.
The guy squinted at them for a moment, then leaned back and hollered loud enough to make Kon’s ears ring, “ Marcus! Some gay dudes are here for you!”
Kon repressed a snort.
“ What?” a voice yelled back from the depths of the apartment.
“I said some gay dudes are here for you!”
“ The hell are you talkin’ about, man?”
The guy at the door made an exasperated noise before saying, “Wait here,” and slamming the door.
He and Tim shared a bewildered look.
Kon focused his hearing - tuning out a couple next door engaging in some pilot/flight attendant roleplay - and eavesdropped on the conversation unfolding within.
“-don’t know, but it’s not my problem! Go handle it!”
“Shit, you think I should grab the forty-five?”
“Eh, they look like Bristol types. Gym rats, maybe, but probably never been in a real fight in their lives.”
Kon huffed a laugh and Tim’s eyes narrowed at him.
Are you listening to them? Tim mouthed.
Kon nodded and turned his attention back to the conversation inside.
“-missionaries or some shit?”
“When’s the last time you saw gay missionaries goin’ door to door?”
“Maybe they’re your long lost half-brothers or some shit, I don’t know, just get your ass out there.”
“Okay, okay, I’m going!”
There was the rustle of fabric and a flurry of footsteps that grew closer and closer until Kon didn’t need his superpowers to hear them. The door creaked open a few inches and a suspicious face appeared to stare at them through the crack. “What do you want?”
“Marcus Kennedy?” Tim asked.
“You guys here to serve me papers or some shit?” Marcus shot back without missing a beat.
“No,” Tim answered. “We’re actually here to talk to you about Allison.”
“Allison?” Marcus echoed, brows furrowing.
“Allison McCormack,” Tim clarified.
“Is she alright?”
“She’s fine. So is the baby she gave birth to a week ago.”
Marcus blanched. “And, uh…what does that have to do with me?”
“Take a wild guess.”
Kon fought back the smile that tugged at his lips and cleared his throat to get Marcus’ attention. “Could we come in? We have a lot to discuss.”
“Oh, uh, yeah, sure.” Marcus swung the door open and took a step back to make room for them.
The inside of the apartment was about the same quality as the outside. There were water stains on the ceiling and a trash can overflowing with paper plates. Instead of magnets, photos were stuck to the fridge with duct tape. It smelled like weed.
The whole atmosphere reminded Kon of the brief period of time before Clark had come back to life when it was just him living in an apartment alone at 15 years old, surviving on pizza and Mountain Dew. It wasn’t the kind of place a child should grow up in, not when it was him and not when it was a newborn baby.
Marcus guided them to the minuscule living room with its crumb-covered coffee table and single cracked leather couch. Marcus gestured for them to sit on the couch while he took a seat directly on the floor across from them. “I’d offer you guys something to drink, but the tap water here’ll make you grow a second head.”
“That’s okay, we don’t want to take up too much of your time anyway,” Tim said.
“So you-” Marcus dragged a hand over his face, “-you said Ally gave birth a week ago?”
“A bouncing baby girl.”
Well, more lying prostrate than bouncing, but - semantics.
Marcus’ face scrunched up like he was thinking very hard, then he announced, “That can’t be right. I saw her, like, two months ago and she wasn’t pregnant.”
“The baby was born premature,” Tim explained. “It’s possible she didn’t even know she was pregnant the last time you saw her.”
“And, what, she says I’m the father?”
“The hospital-” and by hospital, Tim meant him in the basement with a blood sample Damian had stolen by breaking into the NICU in the middle of the night, ”-did a DNA test and it matched up with your records.” Those records being the ones held in the GCPD database after an arrest for driving under the influence that technically no one should have had access to. Hopefully Marcus wouldn’t think too hard about who exactly had access to his ‘records.’
“So, I’m for sure the father?” Marcus was looking increasingly stressed out about the situation at hand. “Like, one hundred percent?”
“Biologically, yes.”
If he hadn’t already been sitting on the floor, Kon would have worried about Marcus keeling over. His face had gone pale and both his hands were fisted in the carpet. The poor guy looked scared shitless.
Selfishly, horribly, callously, Kon had hoped that both of them would be too desolate to even consider raising a child. Kon had hoped that he would be an asshole, some deadbeat who would jump at the chance to shirk his child rearing responsibilities and make it easy for Kon to swoop in, adoption papers in hand.
The truth was that neither Marcus Kennedy nor Allison McCormack were bad people. They were just…people. Victims of Gotham’s shitty foster system and cyclical poverty. A couple kids who met in rehab then fell off the wagon together.
Marcus took a shaky breath before speaking. “You guys are with social services then?”
“Not exactly.” Tim met his eye and Kon recognized it as his cue to take over.
“We want to adopt her,” he explained. “We already have a little boy and we think she’d make the perfect addition to our family. We’re hoping you’d be willing to relinquish your parental rights so that we can officially become her parents.”
Marcus looked from him to Tim, then back at him, then back at Tim, like he was waiting for their words to make sense. “What exactly would that entail?” he asked slowly.
“Well,” Tim started, “Whenever you’re available, you’d have to meet with a counselor assigned by the state to make sure you fully understand the decision you’re making. Then, if they greenlight the adoption, we sign some papers, and that’s pretty much it.”
“And I wouldn’t have to, like, pay child support or anything?” Marcus squinted at them, uncertainty written in his features.
“No. In the eyes of the law, it would be as though you’d never had a child at all.”
For a moment, the whole world seemed to hold its breath. Even the couple having sex next door had quieted down.
Marcus deflated with the force of his exhale.
“Shit.” He threw up his hands. “Where do I sign?”
🧬🧬🧬
One week later, a secretary at the Gotham County courthouse was filing the adoption papers for one Clio Wayne-Kent.
🧬🧬🧬
“You ready to meet your baby sister?”
“Yeah!” Kai cheered, the word muffled by the comically overlarge surgical mask strapped to his face.
“Remember,” Tim instructed, “There are lots of babies sleeping in there, so we have to be quiet so we don’t wake them up, okay?”
Kai made a shhh noise and tried to press a finger to his lips for emphasis, but was blocked by the too-long sleeve of the surgical gown he had on, just like his dads.
“Alright, peanut.” Kon lifted Kai onto his hip. “Let’s go!”
The NICU was just as dark and hushed as the first time, but after weeks of waiting and visiting and harassing the family lawyers, it had become a place of hope.
The three of them walked a familiar path down the rows of incubators to the one with a plaque reading ‘ Clio’ in curly letters.
And there she was. His little princess. The squirming bundle tied for first place in the competition of Most Perfect Babies Ever. She was fussing, hollering her shrill little cry as a nurse changed her diaper.
“Here she is,” Kon murmured to Kai, coming to a stop alongside the incubator.
“Hey, Maria,” Tim greeted the nurse. “How’s she doing?”
“Getting louder every day,” Maria replied with mirth, strapping the diaper into place.
"This is Kai, our son," Tim said, resting a hand on Kai's shoulder. "Say hi to Maria, Kai."
"Hi!" Kai chirped, lifting one droopy sleeve in greeting.
"Hello, Kai!" Maria replied, eyes crinkling in delight. Kai had that effect on people. "Are you excited to meet your new sister?"
"Yeah!"
"Well, come right here then."
Maria pulled over one of the cheap plastic hospital chairs for Kon to sit in while Kai stood on his thighs at just the right height to peer through the side of the incubator. His little hands pressed against the plastic so he could lean in for a good look, Kon's grip on his waist steadying him.
"Why's she crying?" Kai asked.
"Babies just do that," Maria answered. "They don't know how to talk so mostly they just cry a lot. Especially Clio. She's got a real set of lungs on her."
"What's that in her nose?" Kai's face was practically smushed up against the glass at that point.
"That's a feeding tube. Clio can't quite eat food yet, so the tube goes all the way down to her belly and puts food straight in it."
"Does it hurt?"
"Nope! It's a bit uncomfortable to put in and take out, but the rest of the time it doesn't bother her."
"Oh."
Kon gave Maria a grateful smile for her endless patience.
"Would you like to touch her?"
Kai looked at his dad for permission and Tim gave him an encouraging nod. Maria lifted up the little circular hatch on the side and gestured for Kai to reach in. "Make sure to be gentle, alright, buddy?"
Kai tugged on his gown sleeve until it pooled around his elbow and stuck his tiny hand through the gap towards an impossibly tinier body. Heeding Maria's warning, Kai stroked Clio's bare stomach with a feather light touch. Clio waved her tiny limbs around at the stimulation, making little angry baby noises that made Kon coo.
One little hand bumped into another and Clio's fingers instinctively curled around Kai's thumb. Pure, overwhelming love bursted in his chest at the sight.
"Daddy! Papa! Look!" Kai exclaimed, eyes wide with excitement.
"I see, baby." Tim's voice was warm with affection, eyes soft and vulnerable in a way they only got when looking at exactly 3 people.
Kon loved him so freaking much. Him and their two perfect, wonderful little babies.
"Once she latches on she doesn't let go," he told Kai. "She's stubborn. Like your dad." Kon looked at Tim to see him rolling his eyes, though his amusement and fondness was palpable.
"When can she come home with us?" Kai asked, looking up at Tim. In turn, Tim looked to Maria.
"Barring any complications, the doctors will probably release her in a couple weeks once she's on formula," Maria informed them.
Kon straightened in his seat, something happy fluttering around in his chest. "That soon?"
"She's made remarkable progress. She came off the vent without issue. Withdrawal symptoms may persist for another few months, but for the most part they've been pretty manageable. Unless her condition worsens for any reason, you'll be taking your little girl home soon."
Kon met Tim's eyes and found his own nervous excitement mirrored there.
They'd be taking their little girl home soon.
🧬🧬🧬
There were a lot of things Kon thought were sexy about Tim. His shoulders. His hands. The big stretch he’d do when he woke up every morning. The way he’d come home from work in his button down and slacks, loosening his tie all dad-like. And Kon had always found Tim incredibly sexy straddling a motorcycle or revving the engine of the Redbird. It didn’t matter that Kon could fly at over 700 miles per hour while the top speed of most cars was 150. When Tim put the pedal to the metal with Kon strapped into the passenger seat or pressed up behind him, it always made his stomach swoop and his heart thud.
Though admittedly, Kon had never been as attracted to Tim as he was when his gorgeous husband was going 10 under the speed limit up the highway, steadfastly ignoring the stream of impatient drivers honking as they sped past.
Retirement looked good on Tim.
The man in question adjusted the rearview mirror; Kon caught his gaze in the reflection.
“How’s it going back there?” Tim asked over Clio’s persistent wailing.
Kon shifted impossibly closer to his baby from where he was buckled into the center backseat of the car. He had one hand sprawled over Clio’s abdomen in a fruitless attempt to soothe her. “I think she still hates her carseat.”
“You don’t say,” Tim said, all dry sarcasm. If it was possible, Clio’s crying got louder. It had stressed him out for the first 20 minutes of the drive home, but then he’d settled into a comfortable resignation.
Clio had been perfectly happy all through her last in-hospital checkup and the lengthy discharge process, but the second the harness was secured, she’d decided to make her distaste for the thing known to every living creature in a 2 mile radius.
“Fifteen minutes out,” Tim said, easing them onto the exit ramp.
It was so sexy how good he was at avoiding potholes.
Every mile they grew closer to home, the giddy feeling in his chest grew. There was apprehension there too; part of him still felt like it wasn’t real, like their baby might disappear into thin air or get taken back if they didn’t get her home fast enough.
She clutched at his wrist with her tiny fingers, staring up at him with her big glistening eyes while making upset baby gurgles like she thought she could convince him to free her.
“Just a little bit further,” he promised her. “Then we’ll be home.”
Clio responded to that by breaking out in another round of screaming.
“You know, I think she might actually be Kryptonian,” Kon informed Tim. “That’s the only reasonable explanation for her inhuman lung capacity.”
Tim chuckled as he turned towards their property. “How long do you think we should wait to settle in before we invite people over to meet her?”
“I don’t believe for a second that your entire family hasn’t already broken into the hospital to see her.”
“Okay, technically that’s true, but we still have to give everyone a date or they’ll just wait until we’re vulnerable from sleep deprivation and descend like wolves.”
“That does sound like your family.” Kon adjusted an itty bitty sock that had slipped halfway down Clio’s foot from all her squirming. “You hear that Clio? Your daddy’s side of the family is crazy!” He punctuated his statement by digging his fingertips into her soft belly for a tickle. Clio paused in her crying to give him a little giggle. “Don’t worry, babygirl, you’ll have some normal relatives on my side of the family.”
“Half of your family is literal aliens,” Tim pointed out, giving him a look in the rearview mirror.
“My point still stands.”
“Hn.”
“You sound like your dad.”
“Is that an insult?”
“I don’t know, Bruce is kind of a dilf.”
“You take that back right now.”
Kon cackled at Tim’s scandalized tone.
The trees of their little forest stretched overhead, creating a tunnel of green and dappled sunlight for them to disappear into before reappearing on the other side into the clearing where their house stood.
The car came to a stop on their driveway.
They were home. Kon still couldn’t really believe it. And not just being home, but that there was a home at all, a big cozy one tucked into the woods, containing a wonderful husband and their two perfect children whom they’d watch grow up while they grew old together.
Once, Kon would have thought it wasn’t possible. But there he was.
“I’ll get Clio,” Tim said, shutting off the engine. “You grab the stuff in the trunk.”
“What if I want to get Clio?” Kon said, more to be contrary than anything else. He undid his seatbelt and slid out of the car at the same time as Tim.
“You got her the whole ride home, baby hog.”
“Yeah, while she was crying. Now watch, you’re gonna take her out of the carseat and the second she’s free she’ll be a perfect little angel.” Despite his protests, Kon obediently circled around the back and popped open the trunk to collect the diaper bags.
Sure enough, as soon as she was released from her polyester prison, Clio was perfectly content in her father’s arms.
“I think she just stopped crying because she loves me more.” Tim gave him a smug look that Kon wanted to kiss right off. Instead he did the mature thing and stuck his tongue out at him.
He slung the diaper bags over his shoulder, shut the trunk, and followed Tim to the porch.
From the side, Kon caught a glimpse of the head-over-heels in love look Tim had staring at the little bundle in his arms. The sight of them together like that, his daughter happily cuddled close to his husband, would have been enough to make him trip over his own feet if he wasn’t unconsciously hovering a few inches above the ground.
“This is it,” Kon said, fishing the house keys from his pocket. The nursery was set up. Diapers and formula had been bought in bulk. Kai had been given the babies-take-up-a-lot-of-time-but-that-doesn’t-mean-we-love-you-any-less speech. As soon as they walked through the door where their oldest - god, it was insane to think of Kai as the oldest, as in the oldest of multiple - was being babysat by Bart, they’d all be together for the first time ever outside of the hospital.
“Wait!” he said before Tim could open the door. Tim paused, arching an eyebrow at him. Rather than try to explain the whirlpool of emotion churning behind his sternum, Kon stepped forward and swept an arm behind Tim’s knees, scooping him into a bridal carry with Clio cradled between them.
“Kon!” Tim exclaimed, though the scolding in his tone was undercut by the giggle that escaped him.
“This way we can take her inside for the first time together,” he explained, feeling entirely too proud of his sentimental display.
Something about the situation gave him a strange sense of deja vu.
“Clio Wayne-Kent,” he said, stepping over the threshold, “Welcome home.”