Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The sunset made everything glow gold. Clark almost even allowed himself to be entranced by the majesty of the geese floating by, occasionally stretching and flapping their wings as they made their way to the shore of the large lagoon for bed.

The only thing stopping him was the knowledge of just how much pride those damn birds took in being assholes.

But everything other than the geese was bathed in a golden, ethereal light that made him want to stay out on his boat forever.

The sun's reflection made it look like thousands of tiny stars were dancing across the rippling water, making him feel like even the lagoon was enjoying the sunset.

And then the geese all started honking and the moment was over. The last little ray of sunshine slipped out of sight and the air temperature dropped a few degrees.

"Great. Yeah, thanks. Damn birds." He grumbled, turning his attention back to what he'd been doing before he got distracted; hauling up the anchor.

His fishing boat wasn't very big, not that it needed to be, but it had a roof and three walls surrounding the wheel which made it able to be used in the sun or the rain. Clark had had it since he'd bought it from a neighbor when he was sixteen. He and Pa had spent nearly a year fixing it up and making sure she was able to float before putting her in the lagoon at the bottom of their property.

As he worked to store the anchor, he heard the geese flock start honking again. A few of them angrily beat their wings against the water's surface.

Clark squinted in the dimming light, trying to see what had set them off. Maybe a water snake?

The geese settled down again, tucking their wings against their backs and paddling towards the shore. They were almost there, and Clark had almost lost interest, when a goose was suddenly yanked underwater with a strangled, gutteral sound that sent chills down his spine.

The rest of the flock scattered, honking and flapping in terror, but Clark's gaze was on the large, dark, spiked dorsal fin that slipped beneath the surface.

There was a mer in the lagoon.

Yyyyy

"Are you sure it's alone?" Jimmy asked, swiping a fry out of Clark's to-go box.

Clark nodded, pushing the rest of his food over to the redhead. "I checked on it all weekend. The lagoon is pretty big, so I can't be certain, but I know I've only seen the one."

"Hmm. That's not good, then. And it's not stuck?"

"No. The lagoon is fed by the ocean. The inlet dries up in low tide, but he can easily swim back out in high tide. Which is how I think he got in in the first place." He sipped his coffee in thought. "Exactly how 'not good' are we talking about?"

Jimmy glanced over his shoulder to their boss's office, making sure they weren't being watched, before he opened an internet search tab and brought up a website focusing on mer behavior.

"Mers live in pods. They're very social creatures and don't do well with isolation. If yours is alone, that means it was either abandoned by it's pod, most likely due to food scarcity or aggression, or it's pod was killed by something."

"What if it's just lost? Like how dolphins sometimes end up in rivers?"

Jimmy shook his head. "If he's not trying to look for them, then I doubt it."

"How bad is it if he really is alone?"

"Ehh. My advice? Don't get attached. Mers are very territorial, so he won't be able to be introduced to a new pod. I've never heard of one surviving on its own for very long. The isolation leads to depression, which leads to lethargy. They have harder times catching prey, which causes their scales to fade, which makes blending in to their environments even harder. Before you know it, malnutrition sets in and they're gone."

Clark frowned. The mer he'd seen had deep, black scales and long, flowing fins. There had been white speckles along his dorsal fin and down his sides, but he didn't think those were from the scales fading.

"So, you're saying I might just have to watch him die? There's nothing I can do?"

Jimmy popped the last fry into his mouth and threw out the box, dusting off his hands. "That's nature for you. It sucks, but sometimes there's just nothing you can do."

Clark nodded absently. And then pulled out his day planner. The next weekend was only a few days away, and he was going to be spending it at his parents's farm again.

Maybe there was nothing he could do, but maybe there was something.

Yyyyy

Clark sat on the deck of his boat, scanning the water. It had been ten minutes, and he hadn't seen a single trace of their guest. His parents had been fascinated by the news that a lone mer was living in their lagoon, but the trail down from the house was too steep for either of them to attempt anymore so he was on his own.

Thankful for his gloves, Clark pulled another dead trout out of the cooler beside him and threw it over the side of the boat. It landed with a splash.

"What are you doing?"

Clark paused, hand in the bucket for another fish.

Right in front of him in the water was the mer. He looked to be about Clark's age, with hair as black as his tail.

"Uh, hi." Okay, so maybe Clark hadn't quite thought out what exactly he was going to say, but he hadn't quite considered that his plan might actually work.

The mer tilted his head slightly, looking unimpressed. "Yes. Hello. What are you doing?"

"Oh! You mean the fish? I got them for you. You know. Just in case you were hungry."

The mer raised an eyebrow. "You… got me dead fish. Because you thought I was hungry."

Clark felt all kinds of awkward. "Is… is that wrong? I've never actually met a mer before."

"And you thought we ate… old, dead fish."

Clark knew his face was red, but he decided to just clear his throat and continue with the conversation as best he could.

"Well, what do you eat, then?"

The mer flicked his tail in growing annoyance, but didn't leave.

"Um, where are you from?"

The mer glanced sarcasticly down at the water.

"Are… are you alone?"

That got a reaction. The mer narrowed his eyes in a sharp glare and slapped his tail against the water, splashing Clark.

"Okay, okay! Sorry. I was just concerned. I heard that mers need a pod."

"Do I look like I need a pod?"

He really didn't. He was well built, with clearly toned muscles. Not at all like the image of lone mers Jimmy had described.

"Well, no. I guess not. But, I take it that means you are alone?"

"What do you want?" The mer was obviously growing annoyed, and Clark didn't want to risk chasing him off.

"I was just wondering if you wanted to be friends?"

"..."

"I don't really have any friends outside of work," As evidenced by the fact he spent most of his weekends at his parents' farm, "and thought you might like some company."

The mer stared at him for a beat longer, as if waiting for something.

Finally, though, he let himself relax slightly. "I… wouldn't mind someone to talk to. Just don't throw any more dead fish at me, okay?"

Clark grinned and chuckled. "Deal. Sorry about that. What should I bring next time?"

"Uh, nothing? I'm perfectly capable of hunting for myself."

"Okay. You don't like others bringing you food. I can respect that. Can I at least know your name?"

"You first." It seemed like the mer was still suspicious of him, but Clark just shrugged it off.

"I'm Clark. Clark Kent."

The mer looked Clark over a few times, visibly deliberating. Finally, though, he made up his mind and spoke. "Bruce."

Chapter Text

-One year later-

The headline made Clark's heart skip a beat, and his stomach drop. He might have audibly gasped, but he couldn't be sure.

*TWO MERS FOUND DEAD IN ILLEGAL FISHING NETS IN SMALLVILLE HARBOR*

The article went on to describe that two corpses had washed ashore the morning before tangled in nets from Zucco's Fishing Charters. They had been traced back to Haly's Pod, a migratory mer pod being studied by The Haly Institute.

Zucco was currently being investigated for illegal poaching.

The mer pod had disrupted it's usual migration path and left Smallville immediately.

"Neither one was your mer."

Clark jumped, not sure when Jimmy had snuck up on him.

"What?"

"I read that article earlier. They were both tagged. It says their names were John and Mary and they were mates. It's tragic." He shook his head slowly. "But don't worry. Your mer wasn't one of them, and the P. O. S. who set those nets is going down, so he'll be safe."

Clark let out a breath and sat back in his desk chair. "I can't believe anyone would do that. I can't imagine anyone trying to catch Bruce."

"A lone mer is rare, and without a pod for protection he's an easier target, but if he hardly leaves the lagoon like you say then that does make him a lot better off."

"I know. But the fact that this is something that still happens? And in Smallville for that matter. It's unbelievable." He shook his head in disgust. "I'm glad today's Friday, at least."

Jimmy smirked. "Do you ever spend your weekends with humans these days? Or just him?"

Clark shrugged. "I didn't exactly spend my weekends with humans before I met him. So if you think about it, I'm actually socializing more."

Yyyyy

Clark ran the mop over the deck of his boat, cleaning it of the rainwater that had left puddles while he'd been in Metropolis, with a frown on his face. The boat was still tied to the dock and he'd been doing maintenance on it for a few hours now, but something was wrong.

Bruce hadn't shown up once.

Clark kept telling himself not to worry, Bruce left the lagoon to hunt in open water all the time, but as the eavening wore on, his anxiety didn't fade at all.

He eventually had to make the long walk back up to the farmhouse in the dark.

Yyyyy

Saturday morning, Clark was throwing his jacket and boots on as soon as the first rays of sunlight appeared over the trees. It had rained the previous night so the entire trail down to the lagoon was mud, but he managed to make it all the way down without slipping.

The water was rippling slightly as the tide slowly went out, closing the inlet. Clark's eyes swept over the surface, searching for any sign of Bruce.

A fin?

A waving hand?

Maybe he was sleeping in the gnarled, tangled roots of one of the many trees growing in the water?

No matter where he looked, though, he couldn't find Bruce. So he knelt and untied the boat, using a large, bare tree branch to push off the lagoon floor and drive the boat. He hadn't turned the engine on since Bruce had moved in, for fear of hitting him with the propeller.

It was slow going, as he had to move his fishing boat gondola-style, but he weaved his way through the trees and boulders. When he reached one end of the lagoon, he turned around and picked his way along the edge.

To be fair, Bruce was a grown man and had never really told Clark when he was leaving or when he'd be back, but he'd never been gone this long before. And he always made sure he was back in the lagoon by nightfall.

And Clark's fears concerning the news of the two dead mers weren't going away.

What if Bruce had been captured?

Was he hurt?

Was-

Clark shouted in surprise and dropped his branch when a starfish flew right past his face. He looked over the edge of the boat and was just fast enough to see a small, red shape dart past.

"Hello?" That hadn't been Bruce. What was it?

He heard more than felt the impact as something slammed into the other side of his boat. He crossed the deck in two strides and was surprised to see a small mer angrily flap his fin and go in for another attack.

Clark was still deciding if he should try and stop him when a familiar dark shape emerged from the shadows and put itself between the pup and the boat.

"Dick, enough." Bruce ordered.

The mer flicked his tail and darted back and forth, growling and trying to get past Bruce to launch another attack.

"Dick, stop. You're just going to hurt yourself."

Dick, growing frustrated with Bruce blocking his way, slapped his tail against the water and splashed him. He then turned and very quickly vanished into a nearby clump of roots.

"Bruce, hey." Clark called down. "Who is that?"

"His name's Dick. I found him swimming by himself in open water yesterday. He says he got separated from his pod a few days ago and hasn't been able to find them."

"Separated..? Wait. Would that be the Haly Pod?"

"You're familiar with them?" Bruce appeared to be surprised.

Clark nodded solemnly. "The day before yesterday two mers from the Haly Pod washed up on shore in a fishing net."

"What?"

"The rest of the pod has already taken off."

Incredulousness was evident in Bruce's voice. "They didn't realize they were missing a kid?"

"Apparently not. Do you have any idea how we can get him back to them?"

"No. I have no clue where they're going."

Clark frowned.

From the safety of the roots, Dick growled, trying his best to be threatening. Should they tell him about the pair of mers? Haly's Pod was big, but he had to have known them. Or should they just focus on getting him back home and his family could tell him?

First, though, they would need a way to track the pod-,

"Hang on. The Haly Pod is being studied. The two mers who were killed were tagged, so maybe Dick is too? Did you notice anything on him that looked like a tag?"

"Yeah. It's in his dorsal fin. I didn't get a good look at it, though. Dick." He swam over to the young mer's hiding spot. "Dick, I need to see your tag."

Dick pressed himself as far back as he could get, baring his teeth and puffing up his fins to look bigger.

"That's enough. We're trying to get you home."

Dick blinked in surprise, aggressive stance faltering. He had been caught off guard but looked… hopeful.

"I need to see your tag."

Dick's eyes flashed suspiciously at Clark, but he eventually inched his way out of the roots. When he was free, Bruce took him by the arm and led him over to Clark.

As soon as Dick realized they were heading for the boat, he began struggling.

"Dick-,"

"No! Let go!" He flailed and twisted, trying desperately to yank himself free, but Bruce held on tight. Dick's red tail slapped against the water and, when that failed to work, against the much larger mer.

"Stop it. If you want to get home, we need to see your tag." Bruce managed to catch and restrain Dick's other hand.

Dick immediately doubled down on his attempts to wrench himself free, screaming and thrashing like he was sure he was about to be eaten.

"Let him go, Bruce." Clark said.

Bruce did and Dick was gone in a flash, disappearing deeper into the lagoon.

"What was that about?"

Bruce looked just as concerned as Clark felt. "I don't know. But he's obviously terrified." He dropped the anchor to keep his boat from drifting and sat on the deck. "Maybe we can go about this another way."

"What other way?" Bruce crossed his arms and swished his tail, adjusting his position to get a better view of his friend.

Clark pulled out his phone and started tapping on it. He pulled up a search engine and typed in 'Haly Institute'. "I'm going to see if I can contact the people studying his pod. They might be able to help."

Chapter Text

The Haly Institute was relieved to hear that Dick was alright, but informed Clark that, thanks to their court battle with Zucco, it wasn't safe for them to retrieve him. Dick was too young to keep up with the pod without his parents, and they normally would have kept him at their facility until he was old enough to be released, but they had been suffering harassment and vandalism at the hands of people suspected of working for Zucco.

"So, what should I do?" Clark asked, taking notes with one hand, notepad balanced on his knee. Bruce had swam off to try and find Dick and he could just see the pair talking through the trees.

*Where do you have him now?*

"An ocean-fed lagoon."

*That's perfect. Amazing. Would you be willing to keep him there for a while? The pod should be making their return trip in about four months. You can just set him free then.*

Clark hummed, thinking. "I'm fine with that, but I've got a friend living here as well. Will that be a problem?"

*A friend living… in the lagoon?*

"Oh! Yes. I'm sorry. He's a mer. He's the one who actually found Dick."

The woman on the other end of the line went silent and Clark pulled the phone away from his face to see if it had disconnected.

*How long has he been by himself?*

"I… don't know. He doesn't like talking about his past. Why?"

*It's not uncommon for mers to be forced out of a pod due to aggressive behavior. Just… keep an eye on him. I don't know what the situation is, but if you see any chance that Dick might be in danger, we might be able to find a temporary holding tank for him until he's able to rejoin his pod.*

It was Clark's turn to fall silent. Jimmy had mentioned the same thing when Bruce had first shown up, but Clark admittedly hadn't thought much of it. Bruce had never been even remotely violent towards him. At most he could be a bit brash and rude, but that seemed to have more to do with his usual demeanor than anything else.

But he'd never seen Bruce interact with another mer.

Would that make a difference?

*Sir?*

"Yes, I'm sorry. I'm still here."

*We'll contact the pod and let them know that Dick is safe and they can pick him up on their return trip. If anything comes up or you have any more questions you can give us another call. Alright?*

"Alright. Thank you, ma'am."

The call ended and Clark set his phone on the deck beside him.

Bruce and Dick were over by the dock, talking quietly. Clark couldn't hear them, but he could see that Dick was much calmer now. He swished his tail, moving back and forth in the water, head bowed. Every now and then, Bruce would pause what he was saying and Dick would nod or shrug.

He certainly didn't look violent.

In fact, he looked… surprisingly gentle.

Clark smiled and pocketed his phone before standing and hauling up the anchor. Dick would be in good hands.

Yyyyy

Clark sat on the dock, notebook beside him, and tapped away on his laptop. Anything he could find about the Haly Pod's migration patterns, along with caring for a mer pup, was written down.

Bruce floated in the water below him on his back, holding Dick. The young mer was asleep in his arms, one hand curled up under his chin, breathing evenly.

"Did you know that pups are born with bright red, yellow, or green tails as a defense mechanism? Predators will automatically assume that they're venomous and leave them alone." Clark, keeping his voice low, shared.

"Yes, I know. He's old enough that his real colors should start growing in any time now." Bruce replied.

Dick's shimmering scales were almost fire engine red, practically glowing in contrast against Bruce's obsidian black ones. His tail fin floated in the water beside them, moving only slightly in the tide.

"Should… should we tell him? About his parents?"

Bruce frowned. He brought one hand up to pet Dick's hair, gently pushing it out of his face to see if he was still asleep before responding. "I think he knows."

"What makes you say that?"

Bruce sighed and adjusted the mer pup in his arms, a faraway look coming into his eyes. "Kids aren't stupid. He knows his parents would never have left without him. Plus, there was the rage when he saw your boat. And…"

Clark watched his friend look down at the pup, saw how close he held him. It was almost… protective. Like he wanted to keep him safe from some unseen force. "And?"

"He wasn't looking for his parents when I found him. He just kept saying he needed to find his pod. At the time, I didn't think much of it. I just thought he'd gotten separated and figured his parents would be with everyone else."

"You think he saw what happened?" Clark hoped not. Something that traumatic wasn't something anyone should have to witness, but especially a kid as young as Dick.

"It's a good possibility."

"Mn." Dick grunted and yawned, snuggling closer to Bruce.

Both men were silent until they were sure he hadn't in fact woken up.

"You said they'll circle back in four months?" Bruce whispered, even softer than before.

Clark nodded. "Four months. And then he goes home."

Yyyyy

The next morning, Clark sipped his coffee on the deck of his boat. The sun had just risen and fog was still rolling off the lagoon, creating an eerie atmosphere. The only sounds were the soft, lapping waves, and the tapping of his boat against the dock.

Sighing contentedly he reeled his fishing line in and checked the bait before casting it back out again.

Neither of the mers had been seen yet, but Bruce had been around long enough that he knew where Clark liked to fish and Dick was still wary enough that Clark wasn't worried about him getting close enough to become tangled in the line.

The bobber landed in the water with a plop and floated in place, hopefully tempting fish.

It was then almost immediately yanked underwater.

Clark, having picked up his travel mug for another sip, hurriedly set it back down and grabbed his fishing rod with both hands.

He reeled his catch in, standing up to gain more leverage. It felt heavy, but didn't seem to be resisting. He was confused, until it broke the surface of the water and he realized he'd snagged a piece of driftwood.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me." He groaned.

Rolling his eyes, he flopped back down on the deck and pulled the wood up beside him to untangle it. It had never ceaced to annoy him when fishermen got their lines tangled and left the hooks behind. He'd caught one in his foot as a kid and had vowed to never fall into that habit.

Once the driftwood was freed he placed it to the side and prepared to cast a new line out.

A few minutes later, he flicked his wrist and once again heard the bobber plop into the water.

And, once again, it was almost immediately yanked under.

Now growing suspicious, Clark hauled up a new piece of driftwood, untangled it, and placed it with the last one.

He then set his rod to the side and propped his elbows up on his knees, resting his chin on his knuckles.

Sure enough, a red tail flickered by. Not finding a new line, he looked up and saw Clark, scowl morphing into a glare.

Clark motioned with his hand for the pup to come closer.

He hesitated, but obeyed.

"Dick, what are you doing?"

Dick stayed back, glaring, but slapped the water with his tail, splashing Clark.

"Hey! Stop that." He took off his glasses and wiped them off on his shirt.

Dick bared his teeth and growled.

"I'm not going to hurt you, buddy."

Dick didn't look remotely convinced.

"Is it the fishing rod? I was just trying to catch something to eat before you two woke up." He raised it just enough for the pup to see, but put it back when he growled again.

"Okay. How about…" Clark wanted the pup to stop being so scared of him, but wasn't sure where to start. Children weren't something he had much experience with. "What's it like out in the ocean?"

Dick blinked and frowned, but relaxed slightly.

"Is it scary? Do you like it out there?"

"It's scary." Dick finally muttered. "But it's also fun."

"Really? What do you think is the coolest thing you've seen?"

Dick thought for a few moments, still scowling. "I saw a sunken pirate ship a few years ago. There was gold. And bones."

"Wow, really? That sounds like a really exciting find. Were you looking for it? Or did you just happen to come across it?"

"We just found it."

"Would you like to help me catch a fish?"

Dick turned to side eye him. He then let his eyes wander over the length of the boat before refocusing on Clark. "You're lucky you're human."

"What?"

"If you were a mer you would have starved years ago."

"You know, I've caught plenty of fish before. It's just a bit easier when I don't have someone sabotaging my lines."

Dick crossed his arms and leaned back in the water. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I think you know exactly what I'm talking about, Dick."

"Nope. You just suck."

Clark almost laughed. "And I suppose you could do better?"

"Yes."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah!"

"Okay, then." Clark taunted. "Prove it."

Dick froze, once again eyeing the boat. "... No. Starve for all I care."

He then turned and darted off again.

Clark let out a sign, but then quirked a smile.

That was the first time he'd gotten to have a conversation with the pup. They were making progress.

Chapter Text

"I called my boss last night." Clark dragged his pocket knife through the flesh of an apple, the peel falling off in a swirl.

"Hm? What about?" Bruce replied, picking bones out of a fish he'd caught, feeding bits of the meat to Dick.

"I'm switching to remote work until Dick goes back to his pod. So I'll be here everyday instead of just the weekends."

The large mer raised an eyebrow. "You don't think I can take care of a kid on my own?"

"How many kids have you had?"

Bruce paused at the abruptness of the question. "I'm sorry, what?"

"How many kids have you had?" Clark repeated. "Or just, how many have you raised?"

Bruce scowled, handing Dick another chunk of fish. "I fail to see what that's got to do with anything."

"You can hardly function in the water. What help are you going to be?" Dick munched on his dinner, gazing up at the human.

"My point is," Clark finished peeling his apple and began slicing chunks out of it. He passed the first one to Bruce. "I have access to the internet, which has information on how to raise a mer pup. You've got personal experience being a mer." He took a bite of his own apple slice. "This will be a lot easier if we work together."

"I say we don't need your help." Dick accepted another chunk of fish meat from Bruce. "Human." He spat the word out like it left a tangible taste in his mouth.

"Dick, be nice." Bruce frowned down at the pup.

"What? He is." Dick shrugged. He reached for another bit of fish, but Bruce moved it out of his reach, staring at him in disapproval.

"Be nice to Clark. Like it or not, he's helping you get back to your pod."

Dick scowled and dropped his hands back into the water with twin splashes. "Not like I asked him to." He grumbled.

"Dick." Bruce's voice took on a warning tone, and the pup huffed and eyed the half eaten fish in his hands.

"... Fine."

"'Fine' you'll be nice to Clark?"

"Fine I'll be nice to Clark." Dick growled, glaring in a very *not* nice way at Clark.

"Thank you." Clark didn't pay the attitude any mind. He knew Dick might never warm up to him, given that humans had been the ones to take his family from him in the first place. "Here." He passed Bruce another slice of his apple.

"Thanks. Are you sure about this, though? Your work won't suffer due to distance?"

Clark shook his head. "I've worked remotely before. So long as I'm able to connect to the internet I'll be alright."

Dick muttered something under his breath that Clark wasn't able to catch, but apparently Bruce was, because he reached up, handing the fish Clark and grabbed Dick by the arm.

"Alright, that's it. You're in timeout." He hauled the pup over to the closest tree and lifted him out of the water, setting him up on top of the roots that hovered just above the waterline.

"For what?!" Dick demanded, doing his best to twist free. "I didn't do anything!"

"Dick, I am not going to tolerate this kind of behavior from you, do you understand?"

"No! Leave me alone!" Dick managed to break free and dropped back down into the water. As soon as he did, he slapped his tail against the surface and splashed Bruce before making his getaway to the other side of the lagoon.

"Are you okay?" Clark asked as Bruce swam back to the dock.

"Yeah." The mer shook his head. "Maybe I do need your help with him. I understand his hatred of humans, given what happened to his family, but it won't do him any good if he's this openly hostile with every human he comes across. Besides, I don't like him talking to you like that… what?"

Clark knew he was staring, but he couldn't look away.

"It's staring at me."

Bruce blinked and raised an incredulous eyebrow at his friend. "It's… a fish, Clark "

"Why did you hand me your fish?"

"If you don't want it, then why did you take it?"

Clark still couldn't look away, the hollow, dead eye boring into his soul. "I don't know. You handed it to me, so I grabbed it."

"Clark, it's a fish."

"It's staring at me."

"It's *dead*."

"It's *staring* at me."

"I swear I'm dealing with two damn kids."

Yyyyy

"What are you doing?"

Clark straightened, pulled his earbud out, and leaned on his shovel.

"Realizing I… might have been living… in the city too long." He took a few long breaths to try and stop panting. "I'm digging a trench. Ma wants piping laid down so she can fill our old pond back up."

Dick tilted his head. "Why did you leave your pod?"

"What?"

Dick pointed up the trail to the Kent farmhouse. "You pod lives there, right? But you don't. Why?"

"Ah." Clark stretched his arms above his head and popped his back. "That. The simple answer is that human culture is different than mer culture. I grew up, got a job in the city, and moved out."

"You… got a new pod?" He tilted his head the other way.

"Not… exactly. I have friends at work, but other than that, I live alone."

"Why?"

"Because I make enough money to cover the rent by myself."

Dick frowned. "Don't you get lonely?"

"Ehh, not really. I come home every weekend to hang out with Ma, Pa, and Bruce."

The young mer didn't respond to that. He looked down at the water almost sadly.

"You alright?"

Dick crossed his arms and turned away. "Do you think they miss me? I mean, I know they left me and all, but there was a poacher."

Clark set the shovel down and came closer, sitting on a boulder sticking out of the water. "Hey, look at me. There is no doubt in my mind that your pod misses you very much."

Dick shrugged, still gazing down at the water.

"Do you miss them?" Clark guessed.

Dick nodded and blinked, tears welling up on his eyes, though he fought to keep them at bay. "I tried to find them. Mom and Dad always told me, if anything ever happened, stick with the pod. A- and I *tried*." He rubbed his eye with a fist. "I tried. I looked everywhere. They were just gone."

Clark felt his heart clench and wished he could whisk the pup into a tight hug and just make everything better. But, while Dick had grown less hostile towards him over the past month, he still didn't hesitate to bare his teeth or throw things if Clark got too close.

"Well, they're coming back for you. And you'll get to see them again in just a few months."

"What if… what if they forget me?" He whispered.

"Hey, no. That's not going to happen. I'm sure your pod misses you very much."

Dick didn't look convinced, but right then, they heard a splash from the inlet.

"Bruce is back with food." Dick announced, acting like the previous conversation had never happened.

Clark watched him swim off with mixed feelings. Dick was a handful on the best of days. He was stubborn, moody, intentionally rude and very hyperactive, in addition to the issues that had sprung up due to witnessing his parents being murdered.

But Clark had slowly started noticing that he was growing fond of him. And, he knew without a doubt, that it was getting harder by the day to imagine him leaving. He didn't want to say goodbye.

Chapter Text

"You're starting to look like Superman." Clark couldn't help but laugh.

The tips of Dick's fins had started turning blue, as had several of his scales. He now had patches of blue all over.

"Who?" Dick tilted his head to the side.

"You haven't heard of him? He's a children's legend."

Dick's expression was rather unimpressed as he held one hand out of the water, finger pointed straight up. He then bent his wrist so the finger was pointed directly at himself. "Mer."

Clark and Bruce chuckled at the sass.

"Okay, good point. Hmm. I've told you about Santa, right?"

"Yeah." Dick nodded.

"He's like that. Except he disguises himself as a regular man to blend in. He goes around saving people everyday, and has the ability to do just about anything he needs to do."

"Like what?"

"Like… he can fly. He has super strength. Laser vision. Ice breath. Basically whatever he needs to save someone from pretty much any situation."

Clark paddled his canoe a bit closer to Bruce, just in case. His fishing boat was far too old for him to trust it out along the coast, so he'd opted for his canoe. He hadn't quite realized just how unnerving it was to be out of the lagoon on such a small craft. It also didn't help that he hadn't taken it out since he'd been in highschool.

But today was the day. The Haly Pod had started their return trip and would be passing right by Smallville, picking Dick up on the way. They had spent the whole day out of the lagoon waiting for them.

It was bittersweet, saying goodbye, but Clark and Bruce were both happy for him to finally be reunited with his pod.

"So… he rescues people? Like, all the time?"

"Well, that's one interpretation. Whenever Ma and Pa told me the story, though, it was a little different. See, Superman has the *ability* to help people in a lot of dangerous situations, but he's still just one man. He can't save everyone, no matter how hard he tries. So that means that every day he has to make the decision of *who* to save. He always tries his best, though, to do what's right.

"But since he's just a legend, we don't actually have someone going around keeping us safe. So I used to ask Ma, 'If he's not real, why do we have the story in the first place?' and she said that the story is more of a lesson. Superman isn't known as a legend because he can do magical things. He's someone we can look up to because he always does what he can to help who he can. And, since he likes to disguise himself as a regular, everyday person, Superman can be literally anyone. Or, another way to see it is that anyone can be Superman."

He drew his attention away from the wide-eyed mer pup when he heard something from the other side of his boat.

Chuckling.

"What's so funny? I said it's a kids story." He defended.

Bruce turned away, shoulders still shaking. "I know. I know, and I'm trying not to laugh, but you seem to forget that this is the same kid who threw a starfish at your face."

"Heeeey, that's not fair." Dick whined, diving under the canoe and resurfacing on the other side to shove Bruce. "I didn't like him then."

Clark pulled in his paddle. "Aww, buddy. Are you saying you like me now?"

Dick realized his mistake and opened his mouth to reply, only to close it again. He then shoved Bruce again and did his best to scowl at Clark. "No! I still don't like you."

"Dick, be nice." Bruce finished laughing, and smiled down at the pup.

"I am! I'm just also being honest! You told me not to lie."

Clark grinned as he watched the two of them, and felt an odd, growing sense of deja vu.

Almost like he'd been here before.

He knew he hadn't, but it still felt familiar.

Like he was watching something beautiful, and he knew he couldn't look away because it would be gone before he knew it.

He thought back to that golden sunset, the night he had first seen Bruce.

Dick laughed hard as he splashed Bruce.

Bruce flicked his tail and splashed him back.

It would all be over soon.

In a few minutes?

Or would it be hours?

He didn't know when the pod would arrive, but when they did, they'd take Dick and it would end.

The lagoon would be quiet with just Bruce.

Clark would go back to work, visiting Smallville on the weekends.

It would be an adjustment, that was for sure, but things would eventually become normal again.

Would they see Dick again the next time the pod came through? Would he come see them?

And then, just like with those damn geese, the peace he felt was shattered.

His phone rang.

And a minute later, he hung up and rested his forearms on his knees.

His hands shook.

He sighed heavily and took a moment to just stare at his shoes.

"Bruce." He caught the mer's eye. "I need to talk to you."

Bruce frowned, seeing Clark's expression. But he nodded and asked Dick to practice catching a fish while he talked with Clark.

"What's wrong?"

"That was the Haly Institute. The pod's not coming."

Bruce looked back at where Dick had disappeared under the water. "We've already been out here all day. Will they be here tomorrow, or are they staying longer-,"

"They're not coming. At all. They've altered their course to bypass Smallville completely. Apparently since two members of their pod were killed the last time they were here, it's been deemed too risky to return."

Dick had officially been abandoned.

Yyyyy

The next morning, Clark made his way down the trail with his laptop. He didn't know what he was going to do about work now that Dick was staying, but that was something that he could figure out later.

Right now, he just wanted to make the pup feel better. Even just a little.

He had spent the night before downloading some of his favorite childhood movies onto his laptop. He knew it wasn't much, but maybe it would take Dick's mind off of everything.

"Clark!"

Clark looked up, surprised to see Bruce right by the dock, waving at him.

He waved back but dropped his arm when he noticed that Bruce wasn't waving happily. He was gesturing for Clark to hurry to the lagoon.

That couldn't be good.

He broke into a run, worry rising when he saw Dick hugging Bruce's arm.

"Hey, what's wrong?" He asked as he skidded to a stop on the dock.

Bruce moved Dick slowly, but turned him so Clark could see his back. Or, more specifically, his dorsal fin.

The blue tipped fin was jaggedly torn and actively bleeding.

"Oh, shit. What happened?" He stood and stepped onto the deck of his fishing boat. He had a first aid kit they could use.

"He says he got caught on a root last night. It ripped his tag out."

"Dick, what were you thinking?" Clark hopped back onto the dock and knelt to open the kit. He then leaned over the edge of the dock and reached out for the pup.

Dick just shrugged in response. He didn't fight when he was pulled out of the water and laid across the wooden planks.

"Does it hurt?" Bruce hoisted himself up, hovering just out of the water by his arms.

Dick crossed his arms and rested his chin on them, glaring straight ahead and showing no sign that he'd heard the older mer. He didn't offer any resistance when Clark began dressing his wound.

"Dick, was this an accident?" Clark asked.

Dick didn't move a muscle. The tip of his fin had a notch torn out where the tag had once been.

Bruce reached up and rested a hand on Dick's head, offering silent comfort while Clark worked.

Dick's cheeks turned pink and he shifted his weight, slowly losing the battle to keep his tears at bay. They spilled over and ran down his face as he gasped through gritted teeth. He buried his face in his arms when he couldn't hold back the sobs.

Clark and Bruce shared a sad look.

There was nothing they could say or do to make his situation better, and they knew that. And they knew he knew that.

Quietly, and with help from his human friend, Bruce eased the pup off the dock and back into the water with him.

Dick allowed himself to be held to Bruce's chest while he cried, and the larger mer moved his tail so he was floating on his back, much like he had four months ago.

Clark packed up the medical supplies and returned them to his boat.

Yyyyy

"So, I've talked it over with the Haly Institute, and… there are two options. You don't need to make a decision right away-,"

"I'm not going back." Dick interrupted, glaring down at the water.

He was back to being perpetually angry, but this time it was different. This time, he was sullen. Quiet.

And sad.

"They said that if you wanted them to help you rejoin the pod, they can pick you up and take you to a new spot to meet up with them, since Smallville is-,"

"I'm. Not. Going. Back."

"Are you sure?" Clark didn't want to push the issue, but he still wanted the pup to know the option was there.

"If they wanted me, they wouldn't have left me. They would come back for me. They didn't. And if they don't want me, then I don't want them."

Clark looked up at the inlet.

Bruce had left to get food so he and Dick could talk, but he hadn't said when he might be back.

"Well, then that brings us to your other option. I've talked with Ma, Pa, and Bruce, and you're more than welcome to stay here. You'll be safe, taken care of."

Dick blinked slowly, as if trying to process the suggestion. He then furrowed an eyebrow and looked up at Clark. "For… how long?"

Clark shrugged. "For… as long as you need? Until you grow up? You can even stick around after that, if you want. I mean, Bruce has been living here for well over a year now. It's not like we're using the lagoon for anything, anyway."

"Why?"

"Hm? Why what?"

"Why would you take me in? I'm not part of your pod."

"Well, you can be. We'd love to have you."

Dick turned to look back to the inlet, able to see the open ocean just past it. The waves rising and falling as far as the eye could see, seabirds circling and occasionally diving down into the water after dinner.

"You're… not my parents. You don't have to-,"

"Before you finish that thought, can I say something?" Clark interjected.

Dick shrugged, but let him talk.

"I wasn't raised by my birth parents, either."

That got his attention. Dick spun back around to face him, and then leaned over to see past him, up the hill to the house.

"Ma and Pa adopted me. My parents… were killed." He hadn't thought much about them in a while, but it still was a bit of a mind freak that he was currently older than either of his parents had ever gotten to be. "I was younger than you at the time, so I don't remember them, but Ma and Pa took
me in and raised me as their own. So, if you're worrying about imposing, don't."

"I can… really stay?"

"Yes." Clark smiled. "I know the lagoon isn't as exciting as the entire ocean, but-,"

"There's no sharks here. It's… good enough for me." Dick crossed his arms and turned to face away from Clark again. "I guess I can stay for now." He tried putting on his previous air of disinterest, but couldn't hide the small smile on his face.

Clark mercifully pretended he didn't notice.

Chapter Text

The mop twisted back and forth across the deck, leaving an ever-growing wet patch that was slightly cleaner than the rest of the boat. There were no clouds in the sky, so nothing was there to stop the bright sun from warming him as he worked-,

"Whoa!"

Clark, who had been mopping while backing up, suddenly felt his foot slip out from under him and just barely managed to catch himself before he fell all the way down.

He looked down and found that an algae covered stone had been left on the deck.

"Dick, what have I told you-," Clark trailed off when he caught sight of the mer, curled up and sleeping on a sun-heated boulder on the other side of the lagoon.

He sighed, but decided he could have a talk with him later that day. Tossing the stone overboard, he got back to work.

It had been four years now since Dick had come to live with them, and Clark still had days where was convinced this was all just some dream he'd wake up from eventually.

He had moved out of his apartment, though he still worked for the Daily Planet. They had allowed him to switch entirely over to remote work, meaning he only had to travel to the office a few times a month for meetings.

Ma and Pa, as they were getting older, had let him move back in in exchange for taking over the majority of the farmwork.

It had been rough at first, getting used to all the changes and switching back to hard, manual labor after living in the city, but he'd done it. And, despite the difficulty, he'd do it again. He hadn't realized just how much he'd missed the farm, and having a kid he was responsible for, who lived exclusively in water, always kept him on his toes.

"Dick, get over here."

Clark heard Bruce's voice and looked up, propping his mop against the railing of his boat.

Dick raised his head and looked around sleepily until he spotted Bruce, then slipped back into the water, dark blue tail moving him swiftly to his destination.

"Where's dinner?" Bruce had his arms crossed, and an irritated expression on his face.

Dick tilted his head, confused. "I didn't think it was my turn to hunt?"

"It's not. I went out earlier and caught a salmon. And now it's gone."

"I didn't take it." Dick defended.

"Well, the only other one here is Clark, and we both know he doesn't eat raw food. So unless you want me to believe that he suddenly changed his mind and killed and ate a fish, you can go find another one."

"Maybe it got loose? Either way, it wasn't me! I don't know what happened to it."

Clark flagged the pair down and they swam over. "What's going on?"

"Bruce thinks I ate the fish he caught for dinner. But I didn't!"

Clark raised an eyebrow at Bruce. "That was a pretty big fish. Do you really think Dick-,"

"Do you remember his last growth spurt?"

"... You know what? Fair enough."

"Wow. Seriously? Both of you?" Dick rolled his eyes. "I didn't take the dang thing."

"Well, whatever happened to it, we still need to eat tonight. So come on. You're helping me catch a new one before the tide goes out."

Dick huffed but followed Bruce out the inlet anyway, the light blue streaks down his sides glittering in the sun.

Clark turned back to grab his mop, and froze. There was a glob of seaweed on the deck, right where he'd just cleaned. This time, though, he'd seen that Dick hadn't gotten close enough to his boat to put anything on the deck.

So who had?

Yyyyy

Bright and early the next morning, Clark sat at the edge of the dock, sipping his morning coffee from his travel mug. Bruce floated in the water below him, the only sound being the occasional baa! from the sheep flock that had just been let out to graze.

The sun had only just risen, so everything was still dark, but this had become sort of a morning ritual for the both of them. Neither one was much of a morning person, so most often they just sat in silence, taking comfort in each other's company.

Sometimes they'd talk, though.

About raising Dick.

About the similarities and differences between their lives and upbringings.

Why Clark refused to eat any meat unless it had been set on fire first.

What it was like underwater.

Really, anything at all.

But mostly they just existed together in a brief moment of silence, slowly waking up, the last tendrils of sleep gradually slipping away.

"Can I try some of that?"

Clark blinked, only then noticing that he'd been staring into space for an unknown amount of time, travel mug still at his lips. He wasn't drinking from it. He'd just forgotten to put it down.

"Hm? Try what?"

Bruce pointed to the mug in his hand.

Clark eyed it, but shrugged and handed it over anyway. "Just be warned, I tend to put a lot of sugar in it."

Bruce took a small sip, and immediately his eyes went comically wide. He spat it out and handed the mug back, dissolving into a coughing fit while Clark just laughed.

"That's what you've been drinking this whole time? Why?" Bruce's face was screwed up in disgust.

"It tastes good to me. Though, I suppose it is an acquired taste."

"Are you telling me you purposely 'acquired' a taste for that… sludge?"

Clark set his mug aside and laughed even harder. "I actually find it delicious, thank you very much. And hey, it could have been worse. My Pa only drinks it black."

"Ugh. I can still taste it. You're saying it gets worse? And you make your father drink it?" Bruce was horrified.

Clark just shook his head. "Naw. We've been trying to make him cut back. But he won't. He loves his morning coffee."

He heard a splash behind him and turned, spotting a bright red crab upside down on the dock, right where his coffee had been.

Their fish thief was back.

Chapter Text

While Bruce woke Dick and the two searched the lagoon, Clark untied his boat and, using his tree branch, pushed it over to the inlet, doing his best to trap their uninvited guest.

He was too late, though, as he saw a brief flash of red darting out to the open ocean.

"Damnit." He sighed and stuck his branch deep into the mud, bringing the boat to a stop. "It escaped, you two." He called.

"I told you it wasn't me!" Dick stuck his head out of the water.

"Yes, Dick. I apologize for accusing you." Bruce rolled his eyes, grinning faintly.

"Did anyone get a good look at what it was?"

"It was quick, but I think it was a mer." Clark sat on the edge of the deck, legs dangling over the side.

"A mer?" Bruce asked, eyebrow raised.

"It looked young. It's tail was as red as Dick's used to be."

"So some pod stopping through the harbor has just been letting their pup swim loose?"

Clark shrugged. "I guess so. If that's the case, though, then I hope this is the last time we see him. What are the chances he sneaks into the lagoon at the wrong time and ends up stuck until the tide comes back in?"

"That wouldn't be good." Bruce shook his head. "I'm going to take Dick to the harbor, see if we can track down his pod."

"Alright. Be careful, and stay safe." Clark waved to them. "I'll see about having breakfast ready for when you get back."

Yyyyy

Clark managed to catch a few decent sized fish, which he put in the fish cage with the crab, before he had to leave and get some more farm chores done.

The cows were let out, the eggs were gathered, the barn cats were pet, and everyone was fed. He was just returning from taking Ace, his parents's German Shepherd puppy, on a jog when he saw movement down in the lagoon.

Panting, he ducked into the house for a quick change of shirt and to drop Ace off with Pa before heading down to see if Bruce and Dick had had any luck with their search.

Unfortunately, not only were they not back, the fish had been replaced with a wad of seaweed and the lagoon was quiet.

"You've got to be kidding me." He dragged a hand down his face and dropped down to sit on the dock so he could pull the fish cage out of the water and clean it out.

When he finally finished, he stepped over to his boat and grabbed his fishing gear again. Bruce and Dick would be hungry when they returned, and he didn't want them to have to go hunting.

He set up his rod, cast his line out into the water, and settled into a comfortable position on the dock. He had barely been there a few minutes when his pole was nearly yanked out of his hands.

Clark jumped to his feet, reeling the line in on instinct.

Something large in the water thrashed wildly, splashing everywhere.

Clark relaxed the line and took a closer look.

As soon as it felt the line go slack, his catch flicked its tail and tried to dart away, only to realize a split second later that it still had a hook embedded in its tail.

It was a mer pup, smaller than Dick had been when they'd first met him.

"Hey. Hey, hey, easy. I'm not going to hurt you." Clark dropped to his knees.

"Funny way of showing it." The mer growled.

He tugged experimentally on the line and yelped when the hook sank in further.

"I can remove that if you come here." Clark coaxed.

The pup glared him dead in the eye as he grabbed the line and bit through it.

"Wait, stop! You still have the hook in you-," Clark tried, but the pup was already gone.

Or, almost gone.

Bruce rose from the water, struggling pup tucked firmly under his arm.

"What's going on?"

"Let me go!" The pup struggled wildly in his grip. "I didn't do anything!"

"You stole our food and got me in trouble." Dick snapped back, swimming up beside Bruce.

Too close, it appeared, as the younger pup suddenly lunged at him. He managed to land a solid smack to Dick's cheek before Bruce got a better hold on him.

"Hey!" Bruce snapped.

"Dick, stay back. Come here." Clark leaned down and helped Dick, who was clutching his cheek, up onto the dock. "Are you alright? Let me see."

Dick's cheek was red, but that was it.

"That hurt."

"How about you stay away from him for now?"

Dick nodded and crawled around behind Clark, letting his adoptive father serve as a barrier.

"So what happened?" Bruce repeated. The mer flailed his arms and slapped his tail against the water, but couldn't break free.

"He got caught on my fishing line. I think he's the one who's been stealing food."

"I didn't 'steal' nothing! I traded you fair and square!" The mer protested, slamming his fists against Bruce.

"I'm sorry. You 'traded' us?" Clark asked incredulously. "I nearly cracked my skull slipping on that rock of yours. And why would any of us want a pile of seaweed for breakfast?"

"Oh, yeah. Like that's all you had. And besides, everyone knows humans like weird ocean shit." The young mer spit back.

"That food wasn't yours to take." Bruce swam closer to the dock, dragging the pup with him. "Don't your parents hunt for you?"

The pup froze, then let his hands drop into the water.

"Are you okay?" Clark reached down so Bruce could pass the pup up to him.

He suddenly didn't resist as he was lifted out of the water and laid on the dock.

"I don't need anyone to hunt for me. I can do it myself." He hunched his shoulders, trying to fall back to his previous bravado.

"You're far too young to be on your own. Where are your parents?" Bruce asked as Clark rooted around in his tackle box for something to remove the hook.

"I'm fine on my own without them."

"You're stealing food, your gills are filthy, and your scales are starting to fade." Bruce pointed out. "You're also underweight. Now where are your parents?"

"Hold still." Clark placed his hand on the pup's tail, holding it down so he could grip the hook.

"I don't have to tell you anything."

Clark felt Dick drag himself out from behind him. "Judging by your attitude, I'm gonna guess they ditched you."

"Aagh!!"

"Hey!"

The instant Clark freed the hook, the pup roared in rage and hurled himself at Dick, slamming into Clark in the process.

"Take it back!"

"Get off!"

The pups rolled across the wooden planks, throwing punches and trying to bite each other.

"Hey! Stop!" Clark grabbed the pup and Bruce, bracing himself against the dock, lifted himself out of the water and grabbed Dick.

"Both of you, knock it off!"

"Dick, you apologize right now." Clark ordered.

"He hit me!"

"I don't care. You had no right to say what you did."

"Let me go!!" The pup sank his teeth into Clark's forearm, causing him to yell in pain and lose his grip.

The pup hit the dock and pushed himself over the edge and back into the water. "My mom didn't ditch me. She… she didn't have a choice." He glared at Dick, eyes burning with anger, small body shaking. "You're a jerk. And I hate you!" He splashed Dick with his tail before turning and darting back out of the lagoon.

Chapter Text

"Dick?" Bruce let him go.

The pup hunched his shoulders, looking sullenly down at the water. "What?"

"Do you know what you did wrong?"

Dick nodded.

"What did you do wrong?"

"I was mean."

"You were very mean."

"... I'm sorry."

Bruce sighed and shook his head. "Don't apologize to me. Apologize to that pup. He's the one you hurt."

"Yes, sir." Dick grumbled.

"Speaking of 'hurt'..." Clark held up his arm, blood dripping through the fabric, "Pups aren't actually venomous, right?"

Bruce's eyes went wide when he saw Clark's arm. "Clark! Oh, for- Put pressure on that!"

Clark did, grabbing the hoodie he'd been using as a cushion to fish and wrapping it tightly around his forearm.

"You're bleeding!" Dick yelped and swam over. He was still too small to lift himself up onto the dock and had to swim over to the ladder. "He bit you!"

"You know," Clark knelt and let Dick examine his arm, talking to Bruce and trying to stay calm. "The fact that he's panicking isn't doing anything to convince me that pups aren't venomous."

"You're not poisoned, Clark." Bruce rolled his eyes. "But that's definitely going to get infected if you don't go get yourself treated. Now go!"

"Right! Right, yeah. Okay." Clark stood back up and rewrapped his arm, stumbling over Dick as he tried to step over him. "Sorry. Back in the water."

"Get to the doctor." Bruce ordered.

"Yep, I'm going."

Yyyyy

The following week was the next time any of them saw the pup. Clark had had to get stitches in his arm, but had managed to avoid any kind of infection.

"Come onnn!" Dick groaned. "I'm old enough to go out on my own!"

"I don't know, Dick. You've been out hunting on your own, but that's just around here." Bruce frowned. "You've always got the inlet at least in view. I'm not sure how I feel about you going all the way to the harbor by yourself."

"I've gone there plenty of times with you." Dick pointed out. "And besides, I'm twelve. I don't need a babysitter."

"The harbor's going to be pretty crowded this time of year." Clark added, somewhat concerned. He remembered wanting to have more freedom when he was Dick's age, but he also very clearly remembered some of the dumb decisions he made with that freedom. "Migratory pods have been passing through all month."

"I know. That's kinda why I want to go." Dick looked away, seemingly self conscious. "There aren't any other mers my age around here. I was thinking, I could maybe go make a friend?"

Bruce frowned, but didn't respond right away.

Clark put his chin in his hand, also thinking.

Dick looked back and forth hopefully between the both of them, putting on his puppy dog eyes for added effect.

"Clark?" Bruce finally said.

"I'm alright with it." Clark held up a hand, silencing Dick as the pup flicked his tail in excitement, pumping his fists in the air. "But you're going to need to prove to us that you can be responsible."

"No going off with mers we don't know." Bruce crossed his arms.

"You stay in the harbor."

"And I'm going, too." Bruce held up a hand to stop Dick's protests before continuing. "You'll be free to wander on your own, but I want to make sure I'm at least there in case anything happens. That's the deal for now. Take it or leave it."

Dick grumbled, but agreed.

"Alright. Let's go." Bruce dove underwater and headed for the inlet, Dick following a second later after saying 'goodbye' to Clark.

Clark watched the blue and black fins as they vanished from sight and smiled.

Dick was growing up.

*Thunk!*

Clark whipped around, startled.

His travel mug rolled across the dock, leaving a trail of water behind it.

"Hello?"

There was a splash and Clark leaned over the side of the dock. The young mer was floating under the dock, arms crossed, shoulders hunched, face twisted into a glare at the water.

"Hey. You came back."

The pup shrugged. "I came back to return your dumb old cup thing. I told you I'm not a thief."

Clark frowned. The pup seemed different. "Thank you. Would you like some food for it? As a trade?"

The pups eyes flickered up to meet his, hope flashing across his face briefly before he managed to school his features into something more aloof. "I guess. What do you have?"

Clark stood up and stepped over to his boat, rifling through the cooler he kept there, more for the extra storage space than anything else.

"Let's see," he called down to the water. "I've got a granola bar, or… huh." Wow, it had been a while since he'd brought snacks down to his boat. "Uhh, I've got a granola bar."

The pup's stomach audibly rumbled right then, and he blushed. "Alright. I guess that sounds good enough." He shrugged but accepted the unwrapped granola bar.

"You know, if you're hungry, you can stick around for a bit. I was just about to do some fishing."

The pup stopped chewing and looked around wearily.

"Bruce took Dick out to the harbor. They'll probably be gone a while."

The pup relaxed, but only slightly. "Fine."

He bit the last of the granola bar in silence while Clark got his fishing rod and tackle box all set up.

"Can I ask what your name is?" Clark cast out his line, watching as the bobber plopped into the water a safe distance from the mer.

The pup eyed him, but then flicked his tail and looked back towards the inlet. "It's Jason."

"Well then, hello, Jason. My name's Clark. It's nice to meet you."

He felt a tug at his line and yanked, making sure the hook lodged itself securely in the fish's mouth and reeled it in. A minute later, after removing the hook, he killed it and handed it down to Jason.

Jason didn't take it. He just eyed it hungrily.

"Don't you want it?" Clark asked.

Jason blushed and looked away from the fish, mumbling something.

"I'm sorry? I didn't catch that."

"Can you take out the bones? I can't figure out how my mom did it. I keep choking on them."

Clark suddenly remembered back when Dick had first come to stay with them, how Bruce used to meticulously pick out all the bones before giving Dick any fish.

"You… you weren't taught how to fend for yourself, were you?"

"I'm surviving just fine on my own!"

Clark frowned. Jason's immediate jump to defensiveness, now that he'd seen it a few times, seemed to be more for the young mer's benefit than anything else.

"You shouldn't have to be surviving on your own." Clark pulled out his pocket knife and, using it and his fingers, did his best to rid chunks of the fish of it's bones. He made sure to double check each piece before passing it down to Jason, who savored each and every one.

"Not like I have much choice. What am I supposed to do, swim up to a pod and say, 'Hi! You look nice! Wanna adopt me?'"

"Well, I'll have to discuss it with Bruce, but sure. Why not." Clark gave his own shrug, grinning when he saw the pup freeze, brain slowly processing what he'd just heard.

"What?"

"I'll have to talk out the fine details with Bruce and Dick, but you shouldn't be out here alone. We've got space, plenty of food, and the lagoon is a safe enough distance from the harbor that we don't really have to deal with the yearly migrations. Besides, Bruce and I have been talking it over since we last saw you. You… you don't have a pod, do you?"

Jason looked away and stuck the fish chunk Clark handed him into his mouth, sinking lower in the water. "... No."

"Every pup deserves a pod. And if you decide you don't want to stay with us, I've got the phone number for the Haly Institute. They can help introduce you to the Haly Pod."

Jason ate the last bit of his fish in silence, cheeks puffed up and eyes watering.

Chapter Text

Clark smiled at the soft snores emanating from the young mer snoozing on the dock beside him. Dick had curled up nearly an hour ago, snuggled against Clark's leg, and insisted he wasn't tired. He had fallen asleep almost immediately.

"Someone had a long day." He whispered down to Bruce.

The bottom half of the mer was nearly invisible in the dark water, thanks to the low sun, but Jason's red scales stood out like a beacon.

He was curled up on Bruce, holding on tight even in sleep.

"You know, I thought that the whole thing about lone mers losing color in their scales was a myth."

Bruce frowned, slowly running his fingertips through the pup's hair. "It's not. It's due to a combination of depression and insufficient nutrition. They'll return to normal eventually."

Clark nodded. "Can I ask… when we first met, why weren't yours faded?"

Bruce looked off into the distance for a bit, silently biting his lip.

Jason made a little sound in his sleep and readjusted his head before settling back down again.

"Are you asking about why I didn't have a pod?"

"You don't have to answer if you don't want to."

Bruce slowly shook his head. "It's… a long story. But I lost my pod when I was a pup."

"I'm sorry."

Bruce looked down at Jason, and then up at Dick. And then he lifted his tail out of the water, moving slightly so Clark could get a good look at it. "When I was a pup, there was still a black market for mer fins. Mers like Dickie? With short fins? They'd be targeted for the challenge. They're migratory, so they spend their whole lives learning to survive and avoid predators, so being able to prove that they caught one was like a status symbol for poachers."

The thought sickened Clark.

Dick sighed and rolled closer, and Clark placed a hand on his back, suddenly needing to remind himself that his kid was safe.

But… they had still only met him in the first place because poachers were still a problem.

And he had almost gotten caught in one of their nets.

"Mers with long fins, though, are more physically resilient against changes in weather and water temperature, so we're able to stay in one spot year-round. We're not as equipped to defend ourselves, but we are pretty rare. And for monsters like poachers? Rare means money."

"That's horrible."

"Yeah. I was able to get away, but… my parents weren't."

"Bruce, I'm so sorry. I can't imagine what that must have been like."

"Yeah, it um… it messed me up for a while. But I got lucky. I was found by people who raised me. They taught me how to hunt. How to take care of myself. But, since I grew up without a pod, I've gotten used to being alone."

The mental image of Bruce as a lone pup, being hunted for his fins, missing his parents, learning to live in isolation, made Clark's insides twist. He wanted to go back in time, wrap his friend in a hug and make sure he knew how loved he'd be in the future.

"Well, you've got a pod now. And laws are a hell of a lot stricter these days." He swallowed, absently running his hand down Dick's back. The pup sighed softly, curling closer.

"I know." Bruce quirked a small smile. "Thank you."

"Hmm? For what?"

Bruce smiled a little wider, turning away slightly to hide the slight pink tint to his cheeks. "I wouldn't have this life now if it weren't for you."

Clark's heart skipped a beat, and he bit his lip, feeling his own cheeks heat up.

"So, thank you. For throwing fish at me that day."

Clark turned away as well, knowing he was blushing. "You're welcome. And, you know, you're not the only one whose life changed for the better that day."

Yyyyy

The next morning, Clark and Pa rummaged around the equipment storage area of the barn, unearthing the mer-safe water heaters they'd gotten for Dick's first winter with them.

"I still can't believe there's two of them now. Are they getting along?"

Clark sighed. "Ah, they're doing better than when they first met. Bruce and I had a talk with Dick, and he did apologize, but tensions are still a bit high. Not to mention, there's a whole dynamic change now that we're all trying to get used to. And it doesn't help that Jason's come down with something."

Pa grabbed one of the boxes, pulling it free and setting it in the bed of his truck. "The kid's been fending for himself for so long, it's to be expected that he's sick."

"I know. But Dick's always been an only sibling. Even back when he was with the Haly Pod, he was the youngest by far. He's not sure what to do, how to act, how to be a brother. I'm sure they'll figure out where they stand with each other eventually, but for now, we're just trying to focus on one problem at a time."

"Wish I could offer advice, but your Ma and I only had one kid." Pa smiled. "But I gotta tell you, the man that one kid grew up to be? I know he'll be able to sort this out."

Clark paused and turned to his father. "Thank you. But I don't know. I wish I had your confidence."

*Clark?"

Clark shook his head. "I'm… I'm doing my best. It just feels like," he sighed and leaned back against the wall. "Y'know at some point I should be able to stop asking myself, 'How would Ma and Pa handle this?'"

Pa frowned and came over, leaning against the wall beside him and looking serious. "Son, there's something every parent has to learn the hard way. And it's time I passed that knowledge on to you."

"What is it?"

Pa clapped him on the shoulder. "None of us know what we're doing. You just gotta do your best and trust yourself."

Clark breathed a soft laugh. "Yeah, thanks. That's… super helpful."

"Hey. It's a hard truth, but someone had to tell you." Pa grinned.

Chapter Text

Jason was content to stay in his little corner of the lagoon, heated by the water heaters, for the next few days. Bruce, as he was the one who spent the most time in the water, spent a lot of time floating on his back, letting the pup snooze on top of him.

"Can I ask something?" Clark whispered.

Jason had been with them for nearly half a week so far and had been recovering well. It was as if his tiny body sensed that he was safe and finally allowed itself to relax, causing everything to hit him at once.

As it was, he was currently zonked out, head and one arm tucked over Bruce's shoulder, gills just barely under the water, opening and closing slowly as he breathed.

"Sure."

"I just noticed that you're holding Jason the same way you used to hold Dick. Like you're otters. Is there any reason? Or is it just comfortable?"

Bruce swished his tail, slowly moving himself and the pup further from shore. The current kept pushing them back towards where Clark was seated on a boulder.

"It's just how pups are held. Both for protection, in case there are predators, and for health reasons."

"Health?"

Bruce nodded and readjusted Jason to show Clark his gills. As Bruce had said back when they'd first met him, his gills were pretty dirty.

"Mers have two methods of breathing. We have our mouth and nose for air, and then our gills for water. Pups, when they're very young, need to be kept at the surface of the water while they're asleep, since they typically have a harder time breathing exclusively one way or the other."

"So… they might drown?"

Bruce nodded. "It's rare, but not that rare. But for a pup without a pod, their only option becomes finding shallow enough water to sleep in, which means that they're usually left sleeping in mud right at the shore, making them vulnerable to attacks from the water or land."

"You think he's been sleeping on a shore somewhere?"

"Yeah. It's pretty obvious that he hasn't been taken care of the way he should be. His gills are starting to clear, though." Bruce tilted his head and brushed his fingers over Jason's gills. "The other benefit to holding a pup like this is that the motion of the water rocks them to sleep fairly easy."

"I know it always did when I was a pup." Dick swam over, fish cage in hand. "I caught food." He held it up and showed off his catch; two crabs, angrily snapping at the wires, and a small fish. "I wasn't sure what he'd like, so I got options. We can eat what he doesn't want."

"Thank you, Dick." Clark reached out a hand and took the cage.

"Yes. Thank you, Dick." Bruce parroted, though his tone was a touch more suspicious. "Tell me, is there any reason you're being so helpful?"

Dick's eyes widened and he turned his head away. "Nope. Just thought you two could use a hand."

"Uh, huh. Right." Clark had now caught on to what Bruce had seen; Dick was acting strange.

Not strange in a 'somethings wrong' kind of sense, though. It was more like he was trying to get away with something.

"And, well, since he's sleeping, you probably don't want an extra kid hanging around the lagoon all day." Dick shrugged. "Aaand, since you can't take me to the harbor, and I mean, everything went well last time, I was thinking… I could, maybe, go on my own?"

Bruce raised an eyebrow at Clark, who was also silently thinking.

"Please?"

Clark sighed. "Bruce? What do you think? How'd he do last time?"

"Hmm. He did alright. And the harbor isn't nearly as crowded now as it was at the height of migration season." Bruce relented. "Dick, I want you to listen close, alright?"

"Yes, sir." Dick was almost vibrating from excitement.

"If anything, and I mean anything, happens, you come right home. You won't get in trouble. We'd rather you be safe and get one of us than try and handle something serious on your own."

"Got it."

Clark took over. "The tide is going to close off the inlet in about three hours. Be back before then, alright?"

"Alright."

"And stay away from the boats out there. They don't always see mers, and not everyone obeys the harbor speed limits."

"Okay. Can I go now? I promise to be safe."

Clark and Bruce looked at each other again. "Alright, fine."

"Just remember what we said."

"Will do! I'll be back later! Bye!"

He was gone in a flash.

Yyyyy

Clark poked the fire with a stick, causing the flames to dance higher, brushing the outside of the cooking pot he had suspended above the heat.

It was a nice enough night that he'd pulled out a camping tent and set it up a few yards from the water.

Jason, still sniffling and a bit lethargic, was happily munching away on bits of fish handed to him by Bruce, while Dick excitedly recounted tales of the harbor to the both of them.

Bruce had left for a short while earlier and caught a few more crabs so there was enough to share with Clark, and even some extras that had been run up the hill to Ma and Pa.

"And then I met a mer named Ollie. You should have seen him hunt! He didn't miss once! And then there was Barry, and Wally! They were the fastest swimmers I've ever seen!"

Dick swam in circles as he talked, partially eaten crab in hand.

"I'm glad you had fun." Clark smiled, taking the lid off the pot carefully to check on his dinner.

"I had so much fun! Can I go back tomorrow? Wally said he wants to hang out again before his pod moves on. Please?"

"Bruce?" Clark chuckled.

"Same rules as today, alright? And I don't want you bothering any of the pods passing through. I know you're excited to make friends, but you also need to understand that they won't always want to have a random pup hanging around. Okay?"

Dick settled down. "Yes, sir. I know."

Clark smiled, turning away to hide it and check on his dinner again. Dick had come a long way since they'd taken him in. It was nice to see him so excited about making friends.

"Or you can see if one of them wants to take you with."

Aaand moment over.

Dick whipped around and scowled at Jason.

"Hey, I caught you that food. Ungrateful prick."

"Please. Any pup can catch a crab. The only reason I didn't was because I hate the taste." He sneezed violently, shaking his head, and then stuck his tongue out at Dick.

"That's enough, boys." Bruce growled.

"He started it!" They both protested in unison.

Chapter Text

"Hey, Clark?" Dick floated in the shallow water, resting on his elbows at the shore, watching Clark break down his tent and try to get it all stored away.

"What's up, buddy?"

"Since Bruce is… Bruce,"

Clark looked up, not quite sure where their conversation was headed.

Dick looked like he was carefully trying to choose his words.

"I'm going to assume you were the one who first told him how you felt?"

Sitting back on his heels, the human thought back a few years. "Yeah, I guess so. Why?"

"I was just wondering… how? Do you have any advice?"

"Oh, don't ask him." Bruce called over, rolling his eyes. "He doesn't know how to make friends. Our first meeting happened because he decided that the best way to get my attention was to throw dead fish at me."

"I mean… it worked, didn't it?" Clark laughed.

"Do not take his advice." Bruce warned Dick, pointing a finger towards Clark, who was stifling laughter.

"Wait, so, he threw dead fish at you and you decided to move in and raise two pups with him?"

Clark's body froze.

His mouth hung open.

Bruce appeared to be similarly shocked, going completely still in the water.

"Uh…"

"Um, well…"

They both started at the same time.

Dick's head swiveled back and forth between them. "What? That's what happened isn't it?"

Clark would have responded, but his mouth was still not working entirely.

"Kind of… well, not exactly." Bruce shook his head. "Why are you asking, Dick?"

"Cause he's got a crush!" Jason sang loudly.

Dick whipped around. "Shut up! No I don't! Who asked you?"

Jason just grinned wider. "Do, too. I've seen you around the harbor, staring at him like he's an anglerfish's lure."

"No I haven't!"

"Liar."

"How would you know?"

"Alright, that's enough. Both of you, stop fighting." Bruce forcefully pushed the two of them apart before they could get any closer.

Clark was still too deep in thought to be of much help.

He and Bruce?

Together?

He'd be lying if he said he hadn't noticed some personal feelings, but…

They were just friends… right?

Granted, most friends didn't raise kids together, but that had sort of just… happened. They hadn't planned for Dick to come along. Or Jason.

Did Bruce even like guys? He'd never had the courage to ask.

They'd formed a pod, though, so maybe..?

"Clark."

"Hn?" He blinked, breaking his train of thought.

"I said can I go hang out in the harbor? Jason's being a jerk and Bruce said to ask you."

"The harbor? Yeah. Yeah, go for it. Just, uh, make sure you're back before the tide goes out, alright?"

"Got it! Thanks Clark. Bye, Bruce." Dick waved at each of them as he turned to leave, pausing at the youngest with a dark glare. "Jason."

And then, with a flick of his tail, he was gone.

Yyyyy

Clark had spent enough time around mers the past few years that he was able to hear Bruce silently swim up behind him later that day.

"Hey. Should we talk? About what Dickie said?"

Clark stood and came over, stepping easily up onto a boulder in the water and taking a seat. "Yeah. I think we should."

Bruce nodded in agreement, and then they both fell into silence.

Jason swam around the far side of the lagoon, doing his best to corner and catch a fish Bruce had found for him for hunting practice.

"Are we dating?" Bruce asked finally.

"I don't know. Maybe? Like Dick said, we are raising pups together."

"That… yeah, that typically is a thing couples do."

Clark nodded silently. "Do…" he trailed off, words he'd spent all day mulling over dying right on his tongue.

This was Bruce, though, and he floated in place in the water, eyebrow raised, silently telling Clark to finish his thought.

Clark stared at Bruce for a moment longer before closing his eyes and inhaling deeply. He then exhaled slowly and started again.

"Do you want to go out with me?"

"... Do you want to go out with me?"

Clark swallowed.

Here goes nothing.

"I've been thinking and… the last thing I want is to screw up our friendship. You and the boys mean everything to me, and you're the best friend I've ever had. That being said, I've spent all day going over my feelings and sorting through my emotions."

Clark glanced over to check on Jason, making sure he was still occupied with his fish.

The pup had pulled himself up onto the roots of a tree, poised and waiting for the poor fish to swim under him.

"I love you, Bruce. And I don't know what I'd do without you in my life. If… if you're not interested, or you don't want our relationship to be-,"

*SPLASH*

"I caught it! I caught it! Bruce! Clark! Didja see?! I caught the fish!" Jason swam over, smiling brightly, waving the fish on the end of his spear.

"Great job. Go put it in the fish cage and you can have it for dinner tonight." Bruce, recovering faster than Clark, directed the pup.

Clark let out a breath as Jason happily made his way to the cage.

Of all the times for the pup to burst in…

He heard movement from the water and turned back to see Bruce lifting himself up onto the boulder. Bracing himself with one hand, he brought his other hand up and rested it on Clark's neck, guiding his face closer.

Clark's heart raced, though his brain was still trying to process what exactly was happening.

Bruce's cold fingers sent tingles down his back, but he leaned into the kiss, tilting his head and closing his eyes.

"I can't imagine my life without you, either, Clark." Bruce whispered when they broke apart. "And I don't want to." Smiling, he sank back in the water. "These past few years have been amazing. You might have had a horrible first impression, but I've loved every impression I've gotten since then."

"Hey, guys? What time's Dick supposed to be back?" Jason asked, returning to them.

"Why?" Bruce smiled down at him, still slightly pink in his cheeks. "Looking forward to showing him your catch?"

Jason frowned and shook his head. "No. But you usually tell him to be back before the tide goes out. And it's out."

Blood going suddenly cold, Clark stood on the boulder and looked.

Sure enough, the inlet was dry.

And Dick was still out in the ocean.

Chapter Text

For being small and designed for city driving, Clark's car handled the dirt road surprisingly well. He bounced along, cursing under his breath.

He had already been up three different unpaved roads with water access, all in various stages of being overgrown, but still hadn't found any trace of Dick.

He had tried to take his boat over to the inlet and walk across to the ocean, but the mud was too deep, and any land that connected directly to the ocean was inaccessible thanks to blackberry bushes. Typically, the viney wall served as a level of protection, but now? He just hoped he could find Dick.

The road ended at a small, grassy patch. He threw his car in park and jumped out, running right to the water's edge.

"Dickie!"

He was just a few minutes from home, but he had no idea where Dick was.

Was he close enough to hear Clark calling for him?

He cupped his hands around his mouth and tried again.

"Dickie!"

The water lapped at his feet, stretching out forever ahead of him.

There was no sign of anyone or anything among the waves.

Where was he?

Was he scared?

Was he safe?

"Dickie!"

"Clark!!"

A small mer shot up to him, and Clark ran out into the water to meet him, scooping him up and holding him tight.

Dickie clung to him, trembling, and buried his face into Clark's shoulder.

"Oh, my god." Clark just held him, letting the panic drain out of his body. Letting his heart rate slow back down.

"Are you okay?"

Dick nodded, not loosening his grip.

Clark could feel the pup's heart pounding through his ribs.

"Okay. Okay. You're okay, sweetheart." Clark rubbed his back, hardly caring that he was still up to his waist in the water.

"I wanna go home."

"Let's get you home. Let's go home." Clark held him tight for just a little while longer.

"The inlet's closed."

"You want to go for a quick car ride?" Clark asked.

"Car ride? For real?" Dick pulled his head away, excitement shining in his eyes.

"Yeah. For real. Come on." He walked them over to the bank and back up to his car. "I was planning to take it to get cleaned anyway."

He opened the passenger door and set Dick down on the seat, showing him how to buckle himself in.

Dick's eyes were wide as he ran his fingers over the cloth material, having never felt anything like it before.

Clark got in and started the car, causing Dick to jump slightly.

"This is your first car ride, so I'm going to go slow, okay? You tell me if I need to stop and give you a minute."

Dick nodded.

Clark released the brake and pressed the gas, easing them slowly back to the road. The instant they moved, Dick pressed himself back into the seat, grabbing the handle on the door with one hand and Clark's arm in the other.

"Are you okay?"

Dick nodded, though he didn't let go. Every muscle in his body was completely tensed.

"Are you sure?"

Dick nodded again.

"Okay."

Clark crept along, steering around potholes and tree roots.

They reached the paved road and Clark turned towards home, making sure to keep talking, telling Dick that the terrain was about to change.

He was glad that the Kent farm was so far down a back road so he didn't have to worry about traffic or any other cars the entire way back home.

He turned back into their driveway and parked the car, killing the engine.

"Okay. We're back. That wasn't so bad, now was it?"

Dick's eyes were wide and he hadn't moved an inch the entire time.

"Buddy, I'm going to need you to let go of my arm. Let's get you back to the water."

He felt Dick's hand twitch, but he didn't seem to be able to let go.

"Dickie?"

His hand twitched again, but he was still otherwise frozen. His eyes were wide with fear.

"Dickie? What's wrong?"

"I-it sounds like a boat."

Clark's eyes widened. "Oh. Okay. Okay, Dickie. Come here." Clark shifted so he could pick the pup up under his arms and pulled him over the console into his lap. "Let's get you out of here. I'm sorry."

He opened his door and stood, cradling Dick against his chest. The pup wrapped his arms around Clark tightly and once again, let himself be carried.

"You've never been up to the farm before." Clark rubbed Dick's back, talking mainly to give the pup something to focus on. "We're going to be passing right by some of our cows on the way down. Do you want to pet one? Or do you think you've had enough excitement today?"

Dick just grunted.

"Alright. Okay, buddy." Clark carried Dick straight back down to the water.

Bruce saw them first and swam up to the dock.

Clark handed Dick down to him, and Bruce quickly pulled Dick into a tight hug. "Dick, are you okay? What happened? Did you lose track of time?"

Dick hugged Bruce back just as tight as he had Clark, while Jason swam back and forth a few feet away, giving them space.

"I was having fun with Wally and didn't realize how late it was. I came back as fast as I could, but the tide was already out. And… I've been on my own before, so I wasn't scared. Not really. It's just that," Dick rubbed his eyes with one of his hands, "the last time I was on my own and couldn't find anyone… was when…" he rubbed his eyes again and Bruce drew him back onto a hug.

Clark suddenly felt even worse about the car ride.

But Dickie was home safe now, and that was what was important.

"Am I in trouble? For staying out late?"

"No. No, buddy, you're not in trouble." Clark assured.

Jason swam over slowly, face concerned, and held out his hand. "Here."

"A fish?" Dick took it, though he looked confused.

Jason shrugged. "I caught it myself. But you can have it. Being scared tends to make me hungry."

Dick smiled and started eating. "Thank you."

Chapter Text

Three months later was when Jason finally felt safe enough with the Lagoon Pod to reveal anything about his past and where he came from.

Clark had spent the entire day clear-cutting a path through the trees at the edge of their property where the ground wasn't nearly as steep. His parents had managed to make the trek down to the lagoon a few times but it was hard enough last time that his mother had actually opted to order pizza for dinner as she was too tired to make anything.

Now with the new path he was making, they'd be able to take an easy, wooden stroll anytime they wanted to see their son and his family.

Unfortunately, as he'd woken up early to handle farm chores, gone immediately into an online meeting with his team back at the Daily Planet, researched and wrote out three articles, and then headed out with his machete and loppers to start on the trail, he was dead tired. He was currently laid out on his back, muscles sore, on the dock.

Bruce floated peacefully in the water below him, arms stretched out to either side, letting the gentle waves move him as he drifted. For once he was able to just float in peace as he didn't have a sleepy pup on him, as they were both setting up Clark's tent on the shore.

The pups had excitedly insisted on setting up their father's campsite for him, both because they saw how sore and tired he was, and because they both wanted to play with just about anything land-based that they could get their hands on.

Clark usually would be right there with them, showing them the steps, but they'd done it before and he was too tired to move. He was fine with the idea of sleeping in a slightly wonky tent for one night.

And if it ended up being a mess, well, it wasn't like he didn't have a warm, fluffy bed back up at the house waiting for him. But it was a nice night, and setting up the tent was keeping the pups busy, so why not?

"Give it here!"

"No, I saw it first. Besides, you're too small to- Hey!"

"Not too small to beat you!"

"Jason!"

"Boys, that doesn't sound like you're working together." Clark called, not even opening his eyes.

"Dick started it!"

"No, I didn't!"

"Yes, you did!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Both of you." Bruce growled warningly.

The pups fell silent, one of them letting out an annoyed huff.

Sounds resumed, letting the adults know they'd started figuring out the tent again, until one of them muttered something under their breath.

Suddenly, their argument turned into a fistfight and Clark had to jump up and run over.

Jason had Dick pinned to the ground and was swinging wildly with his fists. Dick was fast enough that he was able to catch Jason's hands before they landed too many times, but he was still going to have bruises.

Clark grabbed Jason by the arms and lifted him, pulling him off Dick.

"Let me go!"

"Jason, stop it."

"She didn't ditch me!" Jason shouted at Dick, still struggling to free himself from Clark's grip.

Dick, being tended to by Bruce, glared back. "Oh, yeah? How do you know?"

"Because she's dead!" The pup's cry was filled with anger and grief.

The birds in the trees stopped making noise.

Dick froze, the look of retaliation melting off his face and being replaced with one of dawning horror and understanding.

Jason stopped fighting against Clark, chest heaving as he took deep breaths, teeth bared at the other pup.

And then he broke. His breath stuttered and his limbs fell slack as he dissolved into sobs. His hands grasped at Clark's arms and shirt as the man turned him around and held him.

Clark rubbed his back and rotated slowly back and forth, hoping to soothe him. His eyes found Bruce's and they silently agreed to each take one of the boys. The two obviously needed some time apart.

Yyyyy

An hour later, Clark sat on the edge of the dock, feet in the water.

Jason had finally stopped crying, but was still curled up in Clark's lap, arms wrapped around him and chin resting on his father's shoulder.

The sun was starting to drop, and, apart from the repetitive bubbling of the waves hitting the shore and the faint sniffling from the pup in his arms, it was silent. Bruce had taken Dick on a swim outside the lagoon to have a talk with him.

They returned as silently as they had left, Bruce's dorsal fin cutting through the surface of the water.

"Hey, Jason?"

"Go 'way."

Dick looked over at Clark, and then dropped his gaze to the water.

"I'm… I'm sorry. I didn't know. I shouldn't have said she ditched you."

Jason shifted and nestled his face deeper into Clark's shoulder.

"If I'd known, I wouldn't have said anything."

"Shut up. Just… go away. What do you know?"

Dick bit his lip and grabbed his arm with his opposite hand. "You… probably don't want to hear this from me, and I understand that, but I know what that feels like. I…" He sighed. "I'm here because I lost my parents, too. Someone killed them."

The sound of water running off of something large was enough to signal to Clark that Bruce had hoisted himself up onto the dock behind them. The mer settled himself beside his boyfriend and reached down to grab Dick and lift him up as well.

"Who?" Jason asked once the pair was settled.

Dick's eyes were fixed on the wood planks, nails picking at a loose splinter. "Poachers. Our pod was passing through. We stopped in the harbor for a few days and… Mom and Dad took me to get some fishing practice."

The splinter came free and he rolled it between his fingers, seemingly just needing something to fiddle with while he talked.

"The water was dark. I didn't recognize the area they took me to, so I had no idea where the fish liked to hide, but they said we weren't leaving until I'd caught my own food."

Jason moved to a new position on Clark's lap, tucking his head under Clark's chin, to get a better view of Dick.

"I was looking around a bunch of rocks when they were caught. The net came out of nowhere. It caught my mom, and when my dad tried to free her, he got caught, too. I…" Dick rubbed his cheek. "I tried to help, but they told me to leave. To go find the pod. But I couldn't. I couldn't find them. I had no idea where I was, and when I finally found the harbor again, they were gone."

Jason let out a small whine and Clark rested a hand on his head.

"I know about poachers. I know what they do and how dangerous they are. I-," Dick couldn't hold back the tears any longer. "I knew they were dead. I just knew."

"Your pod left you?"

Dick nodded, shoulders shaking and head bowed.

Jason shifted awkwardly for a moment, but then sighed and pressed himself closer to Clark. "I'm sorry. That sucks. My, um…"

He cleared his throat and tried again.

"My mom got sick. She was… she was all I had left of my pod. I tried to help her, but I don't… I don't even know how to hunt, really. But I still… I did my best." He looked down at his hands, opening and closing them. "And then she just didn't wake up one day."

Clark hugged him closer, combing his fingers through the pup's hair. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I can't imagine what you went through."

Jason let out a little whine again and snuggled closer, closing his eyes.

The four sat in silence for a bit, just listening to the distant cries of the seagulls and the lapping of the waves.

"I lost my parents to poachers as well. When I was a pup." Bruce spoke softly.

Clark looked over, seeing in the mers eyes that he was far away.

"Really? You, too?" Dick leaned his head against Bruce's shoulder, staring out to the ocean.

"Yeah. Me, too. The fin trade hadn't been taken down yet, unfortunately. I'd asked my parents to let me explore the nearby coral reef, and they'd agreed, on the condition that they went with. They didn't want me going that far on my own." Bruce hung his long, partially speckled tail off the edge of the dock, letting it sway gently.

"The boat came out of nowhere. I was small enough to fit when my father shoved me into a small cave, but my parents weren't able to find shelter."

Jason let out a small, humorless laugh. "Wow. That makes three of us. Y'know what that means?"

"What's that?" Bruce asked.

"Clark's the odd man out again." The pup's attempt to lighten the mood failed as both Bruce and Dick glanced at Clark.

They knew what had happened, but apparently he hadn't told Jason, yet.

"Actually, Ma and Pa are my adoptive parents."

"What?"

"Yeah. My biological parents were killed by…"

Don't curse in front of the boys.

Don't curse in front of the boys.

"... By someone who just wanted money."

"Like poachers? I thought humans were safe from them." Jason pushed away from Clark to look up at him.

Clark shook his head. "Not poachers. My father was a scientist. His company was working to develop a new, greener energy source. The idea was to create something that can be used to eventually replace things like oil and gas, which would eliminate the amount of mers made sick by oil spills and such."

Dick shuddered. "I swam through an oil spill once. It was awful. The Haly Institute had to come pick me up and keep me in a holding tank for like a month. I'd rather chew off my tail than go through that again."

Clark nodded. "Have you ever heard of Kryptonite?"

All three mers shook their heads.

"It was the energy source they made. I don't know much about it, being a journalist and not a scientist, but they'd been developing it for years, and it was about to be announced to the public when my father found something. Prolonged exposure to Kryptonite was causing cancer in some of the researchers."

"How did they go so long without figuring that out?" Bruce asked.

"At first, it was just written off as coincidence. But it kept happening and pretty soon, there was an undeniable pattern. But the company still planned to go ahead and market it. They'd spent decades and millions and didn't want to admit that it had all been for nothing. My father gathered all the information he needed and… he leaked it to the press. The company was hit with so many lawsuits, fines, and violations that they were left broke and eventually went under."

The sunset lit the clouds up like a painting, reds and oranges, all over the clouds.

"They tracked him down and hired someone to run his car off the road. My mom and I were with him. I was too young to remember the accident, or even my parents at all, but apparently I'd been buckled into the backseat well enough that I survived."

"... Well. At least there's something the four of us have in common."

Dick snorted. "I don't think this is how family bonding is supposed to go."

"Awe." Clark teased lightly. "You said family."

Jason yawned widely.

Bruce reached out and rubbed the pup's head. "I think it's bedtime. What do you say?"

Clark nodded, seeing Dick's eyelids already drooping. "Yeah. It looks like it's bedtime."

Jason nodded and yawned again, hugging Clark tightly. "Goodnight, Clark. See you tomorrow."

"I'll see you tomorrow, buddy."

Clark helped the pup back into the water and turned to give Bruce a quick 'goodnight' peck on the lips.

Bruce lowered himself back into the water and swam off with Jason to the root system they liked to sleep in.

Dick didn't follow.

"Do you remember that story you told me a few years ago? The Superman one?"

"Yeah. Your scales were just starting to change colors back then."

Dick nodded absently. "You said that Ma and Pa always told you an altered version of it. Superman is just a man trying to do his best to save people when they need it. But, since he's not real, Superman hiding as an everyday person means that everyone's got the potential to be Superman. It's just a matter of doing the right thing, no matter how scary it is, right?"

Clark tilted his head, not seeing what Dick was getting at. "That's right."

Dick looked back towards the ocean, now inky black without the sun.

"That's why you like that version, isn't it? Your dad was Superman to countless people. He was brave and knew what the right thing to do was, even though… well… it didn't turn out great for him in the end."

Clark nodded solemnly. "Yeah. I always wanted to do something with my life that would have made him proud. That's why I became a journalist. So I can hopefully keep people informed and safe."

Dick studied his face for several long seconds, and then nodded his head over to where Bruce and Jason had vanished. "I think he'd be proud. After all, you're Superman to the three of us."

Chapter Text

Dick flapped his fins excitedly as he swam back and forth at the inlet entrance, spinning and occasionally diving under to perform little flips.

"He's been over there all day." Jason groaned and rolled his eyes.

"Clark and I have already tried to distract and redirect him. If he's annoying you, then it's your turn. We've given up." Bruce informed Jason.

"Why can't Wally just come get him already?"

"Jason, be nice." Clark didn't look up from his laptop. He usually worked on his articles up at the house just to be sure his computer wouldn't get wet and to avoid being distracted, but with Dick leaving that day for a partial migration, he'd wanted to spend as much time with his boy as he could.

"Dick will be gone for four whole months. You're going to miss having him around, so why don't you go play with him? It will get his mind off of waiting for Wally's pod to show up."

It was hard to believe that it had been an entire year since Dick had met Wally, but the two had become fast friends and had both been heartbroken when it came time for Wally's pod to move on down the coast. They'd made sure to stay an extra few days in Smallville on their return trip, during which time Bruce and Clark had met Barry, Bart, Jay, and Iris, the rest of the pod.

Now, they were back again and, knowing that Dick used to be migratory, had offered to take him along for the last leg of their trip.

That had led to several long conversations.

Would he be safe?

He was too young.

But he'd been migratory his whole life before he'd come to them.

He was going to grow up eventually and return to his old way of life. He needed experience to do that safely.

Ultimately, both mer and human had agreed to let him go, but neither was particularly comfortable with the decision.

Of course, it being a year since Dick met Wally meant it had been a year since Jason had moved in. The pup's scales had indeed recovered with care and nutrition, and he was now a shiny, deep red.

He was a quick, eager learner, and a skilled hunter, though he was also impulsive at times.

Dick grunted when Jason rammed into him at top speed. The pup threw his arms around him tightly, locking him into a tumble.

Dick managed to wrench himself free, but before he could retaliate, Jason had already taken off across the lagoon.

"Jason!" Dick took off after him, chasing him around trees, under roots.

Past Bruce, who grabbed Dick as soon as he was close enough.

"Bruce, let me go!"

"No."

"Did you see what he did?"

"Yup." Bruce swam over to the dock, dragging the struggling pup with him and ignoring his attempts to free himself. "Thank you, Jay."

Jason giggled and flicked his tail, darting over to the dock, where he grabbed Clark's dangling hand and allowed himself to be lifted out of the water. He wasted no time in curling up against Clark's leg and sticking his tongue out at Dick.

"You've been over there all day. Wally and his pod will be here eventually, and in the meantime, you can hang out with us." Bruce smirked as Dick resigned himself to his fate and went limp, allowing Bruce to drag him over to the others.

"Fiiiiiiiine." The blue pup grumbled.

"I'm so sorry that you are being forced to suffer the torture that is spending time with people who love you."

Dick huffed a sarcastic laugh and pushed Bruce's hand away from his head.

"I'm just excited. I haven't traveled in four years, and Wally's pod is super nice."

"And we're very happy for you." Clark hit 'send', delivering his last article to Jimmy for an edit and to be finished up with the photos the photographer had set aside. "But we're not going to be able to see you for the next few months."

"I know. I'm gonna miss you guys, too."

Yyyyy

"Lean back." Bruce instructed, a month later.

"See, this is why I didn't say anything."

"Six. Years."

"I mean, it's really closer to five and a half."

"Lean back." Bruce repeated, guiding Clark's shoulders further back. "And I'm calling it six years."

"I don't want to lean further back. I'm already getting water in my ears."

"Because you keep putting your head back, but not the rest of your body."

"I'm trying."

"You're- I said lean back." Bruce once again corrected his positioning. "It's been six years." The mer's tone was annoyed, though not mean. "Why didn't you tell me you can't swim?"

"Because I can!" Clark protested, only to then immediately lose the grip his hand had on the dock and flail in the water, splashing Bruce as he put his feet down on the muddy bottom of the lagoon. "Just… maybe not very well?"

Bruce let out a sigh and crossed his arms. "Clark, you're learning to swim."

"I-,"

"More than half your family lives in the water. You're learning."

Clark sighed and took a second, but then grabbed the dock with one hand and leaned back, allowing Bruce to guide his body into a proper floating position.

"That's it. You've got it." Bruce dove under him and came up between him and the dock, making sure to move slowly enough to not disturb Clark. "You're doing great. Just relax a bit."

"I'm relaxed."

"Clark, let go of the dock."

"No."

Bruce crossed his arms. "Clark, let go."

"You said to relax."

"Yes. And to let go of the dock."

"You can have one or the other."

"Clark, you grew up this close to the ocean. You *have* a *boat*."

"Two, if you want to count my old canoe."

"Why can't you swim?"

"I can swim."

"Not from what I've seen."

"I-," Clark paused, feeling Bruce take his hand, lacing their fingers together. "I like being on the water. It's always been kind of my… safe place… I guess? I can swim well enough to make it to the shore if I fall overboard. My issue is with being *in* the water."

"And why is that?" Bruce asked softly.

Clark would have shrugged, if he weren't scared that the motion would throw him off balance. "Got held underwater a few too many times as a kid. The older boys always liked to play rough, but, being a small town, there weren't exactly a lot of options when it came to choosing who to hang out with."

"And to them, this was a game?"

"Yeah. I told them I'd never learned to swim and they offered to help. Said it was the way they all learned. That being forced underwater made you used to it."

"You don't seem used to it."

"I'm not used to it. I'm fine, typically, but anytime I get submerged, I panic. My heart goes a mile a minute. I can't breathe, even when I stand back up. I can't even remember the basics of how to swim."

"Yeah, you sound perfectly competent in the water. No reason for lessons at all." Bruce rolled his eyes.

"I didn't say that." Clark grinned easily. "I'm not complaining about being out here with you."

Bruce chuckled. "You're a dork."

"A dork who's floating."

"Yes, okay. A dork who's floating. Who's floating very well, I might add."

Clark opened his eyes and noticed that, when Bruce had taken his hand, he'd slowly been moving him further from the dock. His body jerked and he almost panicked, but Bruce was quick to lay a hand on his arm.

"I'm right here. I'm not going to let you go under. Just calm down. Breathe."

Clark closed his eyes again and gave Bruce's hand a squeeze. "Okay."

Bruce made sure to move his tail slowly as he circled around Clark, hands staying in contact so he kept calm, and gently moved his body into place. "You're as stiff as a board. Relax your muscles."

Clark tried, but he was also hyper aware of the fact that the bottom of the lagoon was now very much out of reach.

Bruce dove under again, but this time, he came up directly under him.

Clark's head rested on Bruce's chest and, while one arm held him in place, the other took his hand and let it float way out to the side.

He then switched to holding Clark across his ribs with the other hand so he could repeat the process.

"You're floating on the water. Let it work with you. Feel how it moves, and let it move you. If you're stiff, it will break you. If you fight against it, it will win." Bruce whispered, dropping down slightly to let Clark float in weightless bliss. To let the water soothe his joints and tired muscles, worn out from working the farm on his own. "Let the water help you. Listen to how it's telling you to move. This is not an enemy to beat, but a creature you can read."

Clark breathed deeply, focusing on his boyfriend's voice. The soft lapping of the waves. The cool breeze, smelling of salt and fish, rustling the leaves above them. He felt… oddly… almost at home in the water.

He felt the last little bit of Bruce's touch, fingers on his wrist, fall away.

He was officially free-floating on his own. He let the water move him, trusting that Bruce would protect him if he floated too close to anything.

It was peaceful.

Tranquil.

Up above, a crow let out a raspy caw.

And then again.

Another answered.

And then he heard an excited gasp. "Clark's swimming? Yeah! Cuddle time with Clark!"

Clark gasped but didn't have time to sink or panic before Bruce was under him again, holding him afloat as Jason wiggled his way up to Clark's chest and curled up.

Clark chuckled in surprise and wrapped his arms around the pup, watching as he got comfortable for a nap.

"Alright." Clark whispered to Bruce. "I want to learn to swim."

Chapter Text

"Clark!!!" Jason waved his spear wildly in the air and swam back and forth, excitedly encouraging the human to hurry down to the water.

"What is it, Jason? Did you catch something?" Clark guessed, grinning.

When Jason got really excited about something, his entire face would light up and he'd get the full-body wiggles.

"No, no, no. But look!" The little mer flipped over and showed off a dark patch near the end of his tail.

"You… got mud on you?"

"No! It's a scale! My scales are changing colors!"

They got Clark's attention. He jogged down the length of the dock and knelt down to get a closer look. Sure enough, one of Jason's ruby red scales was now a deep brown.

His pup was growing up.

Jason grinned widely. "I'm gonna go show Bruce!"

"Alright. Where is he?" Clark looked around. Bruce would usually be in the lagoon this time of day, but not always.

"He went to the harbor. He said there was someone he thought he recognized and wanted to see for sure if it was them."

Clark thought for a second. "Hmm, okay. But if you don't find Bruce, you come right back, understand?"

Jason did a dramatic mock salute. "Yes, sir."

Clark chuckled and waved him off. "Go show Bruce. I'll be here trying to catch a fish."

Yyyyy

A while later, fishing pole in hand, soft breeze rustling the leaves above his head, Clark was just starting to doze when he felt something poke him.

He jerked awake and looked around, nearly losing his grip on the fishing pole.

Bruce was beside him, propped up on the edge of the dock by his arms while the bottom half of him was still in the water.

"Hey. Catch anything?" Bruce asked. His smile didn't quite reach his eyes, and Clark got the feeling that his meeting with the 'someone' he thought he'd recognized hadn't gone well.

Clark shifted so that Bruce could see past him. "I managed to catch a beach towel. I don't know whose it is, but I think it blew in with that last storm we had."

"Wow, that… does not look edible."

Clark chuckled and pointed down into the water, where the fish cage was tied to the dock. "I also caught a salmon."

"That looks a lot better." Bruce examined it. He then straightened up and looked around. "Where's Jason? He's not usually this quiet."

"What do you mean? You didn't see him in the harbor?"

Bruce's eyes grew wide and the smile fell entirely from his face. "The harbor? What's he doing in the harbor?"

The fear in Bruce's voice was not something Clark had ever heard, and he immediately knew something was wrong.

"He went to go find you. Why? What's in the harbor?"

"A poaching ship!"

Clark felt like he'd just been sucker punched and a jolt of raw fear shot through him like he'd never felt before.

"What?!"

"I saw it this morning and went for a closer look to be sure that's what it was. I told Jason to stay put while I alerted the cops."

And Clark let him go…

Bruce turned and flicked his tail, darting out the inlet as fast as he could go.

Clark didn't even reel in his line. He just abandoned the rod on the dock and ran back up to his car.

Yyyyy

It was dark by the time Clark made his way back down from the house.

The air felt colder.

The night felt darker.

Ma and Pa alerted the police, who had assured them that a pup that young probably wasn't in danger of being poached and he was most likely hiding in the harbor somewhere.

Clark and Bruce had spent hours helping search for Jason, but all they'd found was half of the spear he'd made.

That was enough to tell them what had happened.

Clark felt… nothing.

Like he was in some sort of dream.

Or nightmare.

He'd been the one to fill out the paperwork to report Jason as missing, but when they'd asked for a description…

'Its a scale! My scales are changing colors!'

He'd never had a breakdown before.

Not really.

But everything was suddenly way too much. He just wanted to be home.

With Bruce and Jason.

He wanted to hold them and never let go and know that they were *safe*.

But they weren't.

Clark was vaguely aware of hands on him.

People telling him to sit.

Someone handed him a bottle of water.

When he came back to himself, his head hurt.

Tears had soaked his cheeks.

His chest hurt with how fast his heart was beating and he couldn't breathe normally.

One of the cops had had a shock blanket and draped it around Clark's shoulders, taking a seat by him and talking calmly until he'd been able to continue.

The police had started their search with the hope that Jason had just gotten distracted playing somewhere, or maybe he'd been spooked and was hiding.

But as the day wore on and the only trace of him they'd come across was the snapped in half spear, that belief had shifted to the worst case scenario.

Jason had been taken by the poaching ship Bruce had spotted.

It had fled the moment a police boat came too close, and they'd let it go, just glad to have chased it off.

At the time, they hadn't known a pup had been taken aboard, but now that they did everyone was mobilizing and calling other departments where the boat might be heading.

Clark and Bruce had been sent home to wait for news.

One of the cops had driven Clark home since he was still looking a bit shaky and he'd stopped by the house to fill his parents in on how the search was going.

But now he was heading down to spend the night with Bruce.

He needed to be with Bruce.

The large mer was curled up on the dock waiting for him.

A fog was starting to gather over the water, chilling them both as they sat side by side.

"Is there any way to get in contact with Barry's pod?" Clark whispered.

Bruce just shook his head.

"I just want them both home."

Bruce hunched his shoulders, bowing his head.

How had it all gone so wrong so fast?

Chapter Text

Neither of them slept well that night.

Or the next one.

Or the one after that.

In the end, it took four days for the police to track down and capture the boat.

Joseph Kerr, the capitan, was arrested and taken into custody instantly, but Jason was no longer on board.

There was evidence that he had been there at one point, and Mr. Kerr had no problem bragging about what he'd done.

Clark got the sense that the officer who'd driven out to update them on the search was intentionally leaving things out, and was nauseated.

Grateful, because he really didn't want to know.

But also… enraged.

Clark was not a violent man.

Not remotely.

He was both large and strong enough to do damage, but that always served to make him extra careful around others.

But as he listened to the cop tell him that Kerr had a record and was known to kill mercilessly, selling whatever to anyone willing to pay and that, even though they hadn't recovered a body, there was very little chance Jason was still alive, all he felt was the desire to look that man…

No.

That *monster* in the face.

And then make him feel *exactly* as scared as he knew Jason had to have been.

The officer apologized for the bad news but assured them that, for the time being, they would still operate under the assumption that Jason was alive.

That was all just a formality, though.

He didn't want them getting their hopes up over nothing.

Clark, Ma, and Pa could all read between the lines.

The cops knew he was dead. They just weren't allowed to say that yet without a body.

The cop left and Clark headed down to the lagoon to fill Bruce in.

Yyyyy

What would have been three months mercifully became two as Barry's pod was one of the first making their return trip.

Typically, theirs was one of the last ones no matter which direction they were heading, but this year they had Dick with them and fully understood that his family would be missing him and vice versa.

Clark and Bruce were on the dock, Clark with a book, and Bruce with a fishing pole, just needing to be near each other, when a familiar blue fin streaked through the water towards them.

Bruce noticed first, as Clark was reading, and dove into the water with no hesitation, meeting Dick halfway to them and hugging him tightly.

Dick hugged him back just as tight, but then raised an eyebrow and chuckled when Bruce didn't let go. "Wow, you really missed me, huh?"

Clark watched from the dock, now standing, as Bruce told Dick that they needed to talk and led him away from where Barry's pod was now approaching Clark.

"Dick did great, in case you were concerned. He's very knowledgeable about a surprising amount of things." Barry's easy grin fell when he noticed the bags under Clark's eyes. "Is everything alright?"

Clark shook his head and sat back down.

He heard Dick cry out in denial and had to fight down his own emotions.

"No. Um…" he cleared his throat and ran a hand down his face. "We lost Jason. Two months ago. A poacher came through the harbor and…" Clark trailed off and shook his head.

"What? I… Clark, I'm so sorry. That's terrible." Iris looked horrified, hands coming up to cover her mouth.

Clark nodded. What else was there to say? It was terrible.

Bad.

Horrible.

Easily his worst nightmare come to life.

"Thank you guys for taking Dick with you. I'm sure he enjoyed himself. I'm sorry we're not exactly up for company right now."

"No, no. Don't apologize. Go be with Bruce and Dick. We'll be staying in the harbor for about a week if you need anything. Just let us know."

"Thank you."

Barry nodded and patted Clark's knee, giving him a sympathetic look before turning and hearding his pod back towards the inlet.

Wally kept staring over at Dick, eyes wide with concern, but he stayed with his pod.

Bart, however, was still young enough to not be able to pick up on the general mood held by everyone around him and started excitedly fluttering around Barry as they left.

"Wait, where's Jason? I wasn't listening."

"Bart, quiet-,"

"But I wanted to playyy!"

"Bart!"

"Are we coming back later?"

Clark closed his eyes and rested his forehead against his knuckles, elbows propped up on his knees.

Yyyyy

For the first time in a while, Clark had his boat untied from the dock and was pushing it around the lagoon with a tree branch.

Dick was curled up beside him, along for the ride.

Bruce was out for a swim, hoping to clear his mind at least a little bit.

"Hey, Clark?"

Clark pulled up the branch and allowed them to just float.

"Yeah, buddy?"

Dick had one hand reached back behind him, feeling the notch torn out of his dorsal fin. "I never should have removed my tag."

"What are you talking about?"

"It was a tracker. That was our arrangement with the Haly Institute. We were helping them study mer migration patterns so things like shipping companies and cruise liners could mark their paths to avoid us. The hope is to reduce the amount of boat-mer collisions, but it also means that they'll be able to have a better idea of where to send police boats to stop poachers."

"Dick-,"

"I destroyed it." Dick bowed his head, tears spilling over, breath hitching.

"Dick, listen to me-,"

Dick shook his head, and Clark wrapped the crying pup tightly in his arms.

"I know I wasn't here, but if I hadn't destroyed it… maybe the people at the institute could have… done something."

"Dickie, look at me. You can't blame yourself. This is not your fault." Clark insisted.

Dick clung to him, and Clark noticed that the pup had put on muscle. Not enough to be very visibly apparent, but enough that the desperate hug was nearly painful.

"They could have seen that there was someone here-,"

"They deactivated your tag."

"W-what..?"

Clark sighed heavily. "When you left the pod. They turned it off. The lady said it was so it didn't mess with their data, since they were studying migration patterns."

Dick stared off into the distance for a while.

"Deactivated."

"I'm sorry, Dickie."

Dick breathed out a shaky gasp and shook his head, closing his eyes. "No."

"Dick, calm down." Clark rubbed his back, but Dick just dissolved further into sobs, clinging to his father.

"No. There… there has to be something I could have done."

"Oh, buddy…"

"He can't just be gone."

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart."

Yyyyy

The next week went by about the same way.

Dick desperately grasped at anything and everything that could have possibly been to blame, unable to face the fact that Jason was gone.

Bruce had basically retreated in on himself, silence now filling the air around him rather than conversation.

And Clark was just looking to keep moving. Because if he stopped moving he'd start thinking.

And these days, all his thoughts were about Jason.

The cops had officially given up, having gotten a confession out of Kerr.

Had he suffered?

Had he been scared?

Were his final moments spent hoping his family would come to his rescue?

Or…

Had he accepted his fate?

Had he given up, resigned to the fact that they weren't coming?

Clark shook his head firmly, chasing those thoughts away and got back to work digging out a hole for a fencepost.

The cows had knocked the old fence down, and were now locked in the 'shame field' while he worked, mooing their displeasure.

He'd been at it for hours, muscles aching and burning, the combination of exercise and the hot sun causing his clothing to become drenched in sweat.

Pa had offered to help, but Clark had refused.

He didn't want company.

He didn't want comfort.

He didn't want to move this job along any faster.

He wanted the mindless, hard labor.

He wanted the distraction.

He wanted to do a task that he'd been doing his whole life and allow himself to pretend that everything was fine.

That everything was normal.

That he hadn't lost his kid.

His phone rang, and he exhaled, walking a few paces away from the hole to catch his breath before answering.

"Hello."

*Clark, get back to the house. We need your help. It's an emergency.*

Due to her tone, Clark was already jogging back. "What happened?"

*Jonathan and I took a walk down to the lagoon-,*

Pa fell.

That was the only thought in his mind as she paused, background noises sounding like a frantic conversation.

Clark broke into a full sprint.

*Put him in the water, I've got Clark on the phone. Clark, we're at the pond. Meet us at the pond.* Ma directed.

"Got it." Clark hung up and pocketed his phone, running past the house and over to the saltwater pond Ma liked to feed ducks at.

It was more like a large swimming hole, but due to the lines of pipe Clark had put in a few years back, it was filled with saltwater and stocked with a few trout so Pa could still fish in his retirement years.

Pa's truck was parked on the grass, right at the edge of the pond and Ma was scrolling through pages on his phone while talking to someone on her own phone. She looked up when she heard Clark approach and gestured for him to hurry down to the water to help.

Clark jogged around the truck and saw Pa in the shallows, kneeling down so the red-tailed pup in his arms could be in the water.

Chapter Text

Jason-

No.

No, not Jason.

This pup was much smaller than Jason.

And he looked *terrible*.

Clark's stomach dropped.

He was literally skin and bones, each rib protruding, was covered in scrapes and cuts, and his scales were so faded they were nearly pastel. His mouth was open and his gills were widely flared, but he didn't seem to be able to breathe, as evidenced by the whistling gasps coming from him.

Clark hurried over and knelt beside his father, not caring that he was getting his boots and pants wet.

"What happened? Who is this?"

"He was tangled in bushes on the shore along that trail you hacked out. You know more about mers than we do. Do you think he ate something poisonous?"

"I don't know." Clark looked closer, trying to take stock of everything wrong with this pup.

His gills were hardly moving.

"Oh, my god." Clark carefully took the pup from his father and settled him lower in the water, so his gills were covered, and took a closer look.

"Yeah, I saw that, too. That's why I came back for the truck." Pa winced.

The pup's gills were bleeding. There were claw marks running along both them and the strip of smooth skin at the center of his throat.

"This looks almost like…"

Clark didn't want to say it, but Pa apparently had the same thought, as he lifted the pup's hand and examined his nails. "It was. Little guy must have scratched himself up trying to breathe."

Something tugged on Clark's hand and he looked down.

The pup, eyes alert, wide, and terrified stared up at him, clutching his hand with all of what little strength he had.

He couldn't move.

Couldn't speak.

Could hardly breathe.

And yet he was trusting that Clark was there to help.

'Can you take out the bones?'

Jason…

Pups this small shouldn't be away from their pod.

Was…

Was this what could have happened to Jason if they hadn't…

No.

Stop.

This wasn't the time to think about him.

Forcing down the lump in his throat, Clark took the pup's hand and held it, looking him right in the eye. "You're going to be okay."

The pup kept breathing, whistling each time, though they seemed to be growing slower.

"You're going to be okay. Just stay with me. Keep your eyes open."

The pup was losing consciousness, head falling back and eyes starting to slip shut.

"No, no, no. Come on. I know it hurts, but please. Keep your eyes open. Just… just focus on me. You can do it."

"An ambulance is on the way. They're ten minutes out." Ma called.

The pup's eyes were unfocused and he was staring blankly up at the sky, almost entirely limp.

"I hope he can hang on that long."

A very stressful nine minutes later, and the ambulance was reversing right up to the water. The pup was unconscious and barely breathing.

They loaded him up and Clark rode along to the nearest clinic.

The pup was whisked away to a back room immediately upon their arrival and an older gentleman approached with a clipboard.

"You were the one who found him?"

Clark shook his head. "No. My parents did. They called me because I've got more experience with mers. Do you know what's wrong with him? I've never seen their gills stuck open like that."

"It appears to be anaphylaxis, and our doctor is treating him for that now, but our main concern is with how he got to the state he's currently in. Do you or your parents have any more information about him?"

"He was found alone tangled in bushes at the shore." Clark pulled out his phone and called his mother. "I can see if my parents can identify which plants those were."

Yyyyy

Jonathan and Martha took only a few minutes to locate the part of the trail they'd found the pup at and easily identified the surrounding plants. Most of which was blackberries, explaining the cuts and scrapes.

The most dangerous thing they were able to find that the pup could have eaten was a nightshade bush, but he wasn't showing the right symptoms for a poisoning of that type.

"And you've no idea where the rest of his pod is?" The man asked, writing on his clipboard.

*No. But we've got a few mers out asking around the harbor. It's right at the end of migration season, so there should still be a few pods passing through.* Pa answered.

"The harbor? You're sure he's not from a local pod?" The doctor looked visibly confused, narrowing his eyes behind his bifocals.

*All due respect, sir, but the only pod in the area lives in our lagoon.*

"Alfred, please." The man corrected, writing more notes down. "He shouldn't be migrating. Especially at his age." He muttered to himself.

Clark remembered a conversation he'd had with Bruce a while back, and something clicked in his mind about the pup. "He's got long fins. Really long. That means he's not supposed to migrate, right?"

Alfred nodded. "They will occasionally travel, sight-see, get married into migratory pods, but that's rather rare. And it's also something you don't do with a pup. They're immune system can't handle all the changes, their fins aren't built for rough waters, and there are stretches they pass through where food is scarce. A long-finned pup this young should be stationary."

"I wonder how he ended up separated from them."

The door to the back opened and an older woman in a wading suit came out. "Are you the man who came in with the pup?"

Clark stood up. "Yes, ma'am. Is he going to be okay?"

The woman nodded and looked over at Alfred. "He's awake enough to try eating a little bit."

"Alright." He stood and headed into the back, passing the doctor his clipboard.

She walked over to Clark, reading Alfred's notes. "Hi. I'm Dr. Leslie Thompkins. I want to thank you for bringing him in when you did. He wouldn't have survived otherwise."

Clark shook his head in disbelief. "I've never seen a pup that bad before. Has he said anything?"

"No. Not a thing. Was he conscious when you found him?"

"Yeah. He didn't say anything then, either, but he was able to grab my hand for a bit." And stare into his soul, asking for help with his eyes and breaking Clark's heart. Because there was no way the pup was going to survive, right? "Do you think I can see him?"

Leslie read through a few more notes and nodded. "Alright. He's resting right now, but we can pop in for a moment."

She led him to the back where instead of beds there were shallow pools recessed into the floor. Deeper in the room were tanks for more mobile patients.

Alfred, plastic boots pulled up to his knees, was lowering himself to sit on the edge of one of the pools, a bowl and spoon in hand.

Clark walked closer and the air was sucked from his lungs. The pup was breathing and awake, but that didn't improve much about the state he was in.

He was laying limp in the shallow water, not even appearing to care about his new environment or the strangers around him.

He was hooked up to an IV and several remote sensors had been placed all over his body.

"He's so tiny."

Leslie nodded as Alfred gently grabbed the pup and pulled him up to sit, leaning against both the edge of the pool and Alfred's legs. He then offered a small spoonful to his patient, who sniffed it hungrily.

"There isn't always enough food for everyone during a migration."

"I wonder what happened? Maybe his pod needed to move?"

Leslie gestured back to the door. "That is a possibility. Let's let him eat, now-,"

The pup coughed once, twice, and then doubled over into a coughing fit.

Alfred rubbed his back, but then several of the machines receiving signals from the pup's sensors went off.

The pup gasped and started desperately clawing at his throat, adding more damage to his gills.

"Good heavens." Alfred set the bowl aside and he and Clark grabbed the pup and pulled his hands away from himself.

Whimpering and crying, the pup struggled and thrashed around, tail splashing and hitting them both. He was back to whistling as he breathed, and tears streamed down his face.

"Hold him still. Hold him still." Leslie ordered, stepping down into the water and injecting a needle into one of the pups arms.

It took a few seconds, but he gradually started breathing normally again. The easier it got for him to breathe the more limp he grew, tired from struggling. He stopped fighting and Alfred released his hold, letting Clark gather the small pup into his arms, holding him tight while he slipped unconscious again.

"Okay." Leslie examined the bowl Alfred had been feeding him from. "He might not have had an allergic reaction to a plant."

Chapter Text

"Still nothing?" Clark asked, settling down at the end of the dock with his coffee. He handed down a travel mug of tea to Bruce, and one with hot cocoa to Dick. They'd been searching the harbor and up and down the coast for a few days at this point.

The pup sipped it and sighed, closing his eyes, a few of his smaller fins flapping happily.

Bruce shook his head. "Most everyone's moved on already."

"I couldn't find anyone who knew anything either, but…" Dick bit his lip and clicked the top back into place on his mug.

"Dickie?" Clark asked.

Dick didn't look happy, but he continued when he noticed both Bruce and Clark staring at him.

"Medicine and doctors are other things we don't have reliable access to when migrating. Those of us who are always on the move get knowledge passed down to us by the rest of the pod. Everyone knows at least the basics and we all help each other out to stay healthy and safe. But… sometimes something happens that none of us can fix. Usually we're able to get in contact with a human clinic to help, but not everyone knows how. So… they just don't."

Clark and Bruce looked at each other, neither liking where he was going with this.

"I saw the aftermath of it once, but older members from my pod always had all these horror stories. Sometimes a pup will get really hurt or sick and the parents leave it somewhere it won't survive so they don't have to watch as it slowly dies. The reason we can't find anybody looking for a pup might be because they've already moved onto the next leg of their migration."

The taste of coffee in Clark's mouth turned sour, like bile. Someone had left him there? The thought that any parent could do that to their own pup sickened him, especially since he'd have given absolutely anything to see *his* own pup, even just one more time.

"That's horrible. How could any parent do that?"

Dick played with his cup, passing it from hand to hand. He fiddled with things when conversations turned to topics that made him uncomfortable.

"My dad told me to not judge people whose situations you don't know. Maybe his parents hadn't known not to travel with a long-fin pup?"

Before either adult could say anything, Clark's phone rang.

"It's the clinic." He informed the other two, stepping away and answering. "Hello?"

*Hi. Is this Clark Kent? This is Leslie Thompkins.*

"This is Clark. Is everything alright with the pup?"

*He's been recovering well up to this point. I know this is a bit unorthodox, but would you mind coming back down here?*

"Sure, yeah. I'll be right there. What's going on?"

*We gave him an allergy test and found that he's severely allergic to shellfish, so we made sure to adjust his food. He needed to be put on a feeding tube for a while to build his strength back up, but he came off of it last night. He's refusing to eat, and Alfred and I are hoping that he'll eat for you.*

Yyyyy

Clark pulled into the clinic parking lot about half an hour later and walked through the front door. Leslie looked up and smiled at him.

"Mr. Kent. Thank you for coming in."

"Please, call me Clark. And I just hope I can help."

Leslie nodded and led him to the back room. "I handle exams and surgeries while Alfred handles recovery and physical therapy. The pup's too scared of me to let me near him, probably because I was the one to place and remove his feeding tube, IV, and sensors, but he won't let Alfred near him, either. We think because he had an allergic reaction the last time Alfred fed him."

"And you think he'd be more trusting of me?"

"We hope so. At this point, we're willing to try anything."

Alfred sat beside the same pool the pup had been in the last time Clark had been at the clinic, bowl and spoon beside him.

Clark walked closer and frowned.

The pup was face down in the water, pressed against the far wall of the very small pool in an attempt to get as far away from the humans as he could. His gills were opening and closing, showing that he was breathing, but he was very clearly terrified.

"Here you go." Alfred stood and handed the pup's food to Clark.

Clark knelt down where Alfred had just been and tried coaxing the pup over. His ribs were still sticking out, but thankfully not as noticeably as the last time he'd seen him.

The pup opened one eye and looked at him but flatly refused to move any closer.

Clark scooped a bit of food into the spoon and held it out, in case the pup was refusing to eat because he didn't want to get too close to the humans. The closer the spoon got to him, though, the more scared the pup looked.

Curious and wanting to test his theory, Clark moved just a bit closer.

The reaction was immediate. The pup's eyes went wide and he pushed himself up on his side, pressing himself so tight against the pool wall he couldn't move. In desperation, he curled up, managing to hide his tiny body entirely under his long tailfin.

Clark leaned back and looked at the bowl. "I think I know what the problem is. This food looks exactly the same as last time."

"It's salmon, tuna, and a few types of nutrient rich seaweed. There's no shrimp or crab in this blend." Alfred pointed over to a kitchen area in the corner past some of the larger holding tanks.

"I don't think he knows that. Either that, or he doesn't trust that. Can I try something?"

Leslie and Alfred nodded and gestured to the kitchen.

Clark went over and opened one of the fridges, finding what he was looking for almost immediately.

He pulled out a dead trout, cut it into thirds, bones and all, and brought over the middle part on a plate.

"He's too young to eat fish that hasn't been de-boned." Leslie frowned.

"I know. But he doesn't know you, and he doesn't know what you're trying to feed him. I want him to see that it's safe."

He walked over to the side of the pool the pup was still pressed against and sat down. As Leslie and Alfred watched, he grabbed the pup by the arms and lifted him out of the water, settling him on his lap.

"Easy. Easy, you're okay. I'm not going to hurt you." Clark murmured, soothing the pup as he shook and looked around fearfully.

Clark then reached down to the plate and tore off a chunk of the fish, pulling the bones out of it as the pup watched.

"Does this look better?" Clark asked, making sure to keep talking as he worked, so the pup was aware of what he was doing. "I'm sure you're hungry. Have you had trout before?"

The pup didn't speak.

He didn't even nod or gesture at all, causing Clark to start to grow concerned about whether or not he was able to understand what Clark was saying. He kept talking, though, because the pup had stopped fidgeting, relaxing a little bit.

"Here you go. Be careful, though, alright? Little bites." Clark offered the small chunk to the pup, who inclined his head slightly and sniffed it.

He shifted and brought his hands up to rest them on Clark's hand, sniffed the food one more time, and slowly, hesitantly, took a little nibble.

Clark let the pup guide his hand away as he chewed thoughtfully, eyes squeezed shut. After a long minute, one of the pup's eyes opened a crack.

And then the other one opened.

He chewed the fish slowly for a while longer and then swallowed.

All four of them held still, hardly even breathing.

The pup then brought a shaky hand to his throat and felt it, fingers lightly brushing his gills and throat.

He seemed to realize that he wasn't about to suffer another attack and tilted his head back to look up at Clark with wide, almost surprised eyes.

"You're okay, buddy. Do you want some more?" Clark moved his hand, reminding the pup that he was still holding the rest of the little chunk.

The pup, nibble by nibble, ended up eating several chunks of the trout, waiting patiently as Clark removed the bones from each one.

Clark finished off the latest chunk and brought it up to the pup, only to see that his eyes had slipped closed and he was breathing slowly, leaning his head against Clark's chest.

Smiling softly, Clark dropped the fish chunk back to the plate and wrapped one of his arms around the pup, using his other hand to brush the pup's hair out of his face.

He looked like he was sleeping peacefully, content after finishing his first meal in who knew how long they hadn't resulted in a medical emergency or been delivered by scary medical equipment.

"Good thinking." Leslie came up behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"You said you've got experience with mers." Alfred picked up the plate, careful to not wake the pup. "What kind of experience, if I may ask?"

Chapter Text

The pup's pod never ended up being found.

Bruce and Dick insisted on daily updates while Ma and Pa went along with Clark several times to visit the pup. He'd gone down nearly every day to help Leslie and Alfred with mealtimes, but the pup still hadn't spoken or communicated with them in any way.

He was making steady progress in his recovery, but that still led them to the issue of what to do with the little pup long-term.

Leslie and Alfred's place was a clinic, and they were also both in their sixties. They couldn't take on the burden of raising a pup, especially one in need of as much attention as this one.

Then there was the suggestion of locating a facility that could serve as a temporary home until a new pod could be found or he was old enough to be released, but Dick was adamantly against that idea.

"He's still young enough to integrate pretty easily into a new pod." Clark reasoned, but the blue pup firmly shook his head.

"Yeah, I know, but I'm talking about the 'facility' part. You said 'temporary home' like you actually believe that's what it's like. I was in one of those places once, and it's horrible. It's loud and cramped and all the water is… I don't know what they did to it, but it tasted really bad."

"Dickie, are you talking about the time you got sick swimming through an oil spill?" Bruce asked.

Dick nodded. "The Haly Institute had to come get me, and they kept me in-,"

"In a hospital tank, it sounds like. The pup will be moved to one once he's able to start swimming on his own again, and then he'll be moved into an actual livable environment."

"You mean an aquarium. I saw the permeant residents and their set ups while in was there. Fake lighting and walls with photos of coral reefs. Yeah, no. You're right. That's totally different from a holding tank. I'm sure he'll love growing up there."

"What if we took him in?" Clark asked.

Bruce and Dick stopped arguing and turned to look at him.

"It's just a thought. That way he'll be with a pod, and we'll know he's being looked after. But, on the other hand…"

"Jason." Bruce filled in for him. "Are we really ready to take on another pup so soon after what happened?"

Dick looked back and forth between his adoptive fathers. "I say we do it. He needs someone looking out for him. I don't think he's ever had that. And what's he going to think if he starts getting better and gets moved to a new unfamiliar place with new unfamiliar people. We don't even know why he hasn't been talking, yet. What if he doesn't understand what's going on? What if he thinks he's being abandoned again?"

Bruce and Clark looked at each other again, thinking.

They couldn't put that pup through anything else.

But they'd lost Jason barely a few months ago.

"Here's what we'll do." Bruce decided, fixing them both, one at a time, with a serious look. "We vote. If it's not unanimous, the pup goes to a facility where professionals will take care of him and decide what happens to him from there. He will be taken care of, just not by us. There will be no animosity or hard feelings if one of us isn't ready. Deal?"

"Deal." Dick nodded.

"Yeah. Deal." Clark agreed.

"Alright. If you think we should offer to take in the pup, raise your hand."

Yyyyy

They were scheduled to bring the pup home in one week, and Clark and Pa had worked together to turn Clark's old 'mini-boathouse' into a hospital room fit for a king. For the time being, he would be staying up at the pond, but Leslie had assured them that as the pup got stronger, he could start getting reaccustomed to the ocean.

Pa kept shaking his head and laughing, "I swore I'd never be one of those 'back in my day' grandfathers, but-,"

"Pa."

"Pup's got a quarter acre to himself."

"It's not a permanent situation. He'll eventually move down to the lagoon."

"Yeah, and until then he's sleeping in a boathouse twice the size of your bedroom."

Ma came out to where the two of them were putting away their tools. "Leslie's on the phone. She wants to know if tomorrow afternoon works for the home inspection."

"Yeah. It works for me. I'll let Bruce and Dick know." Clark made a mental note to do so.

"She also says there's one other thing we'll need to have." Ma's expression turned somewhat concerned.

"What's that?"

"She says that the pup still hasn't shown any sign of speaking, and there's a chance he might not ever. If that's the case, she wants us to have a name ready so we aren't just calling him 'the pup' anymore."

A name?

"She wants us to… choose a name for him?"

"Yes. And I'd suggest having it ready by the time you bring him home, so he can get used to all these changes at once."

Clark set his tools back down.

Somehow the idea of naming the little pup made the entire situation seem so much more real.

"He's got to already have a name, though."

"And he most likely does. But until we're able to find a way to communicate with him, we can't know what it is." Ma looked around the boathouse, which looked more like a very small cabin with the addition of the doors and Clark's bedding.

About a third of the boathouse was wood floor while the rest was water, being built on a steep dropoff into the rest of the pond. It had been walled off for the pup's safety so he couldn't swim under the doors and just be loose in the pond, which still left him with a sizeable pool of water to swim around in.

There was also a wooden platform that had been installed about six inches under the water right where the wood floor ended and the water began, just big enough for a pup to sleep on safely, since Bruce was in the lagoon.

They had considered bringing him and Dick up to the pond so they could help in his recovery, but Leslie and Alfred had been quick to warn against that idea. The pup was still receiving care via water treatments and it wasn't a good idea to expose healthy mers to medication they didn't need.

As a compromise, Clark would be sleeping in the boathouse for the time being, just in case the pup needed anything.

"Clark, look at how much effort you're putting into the pup already." Ma gestured around. Over against one wall, just so he had options, a specialized mer pup hammock hung from the ceiling, floating gently in the water. It was designed to sit low enough in the water to cover a lone pup's gills, but not their face, and he and Pa had just finished installing it.

"What about it?"

"I'm sure he'll open up to you in no time. You just have to be patient. And whether he ends up telling us his real name or not, I know that he'll know he's safe here."

Clark looked around the room again and smiled. "Yeah. He'll be safe here."

Chapter Text

Tim.

That was the name Bruce and Clark decided on.

It was easy to remember and pronounce if it turned out that the pup really did have some sort of issue speaking.

It was also a good long-term name, just in case they never learned what the pup's real one was.

So, for now, he would be Tim.

It felt… odd.

Clark wasn't sure if that was right, but it was a strange feeling to decide someone else's name for them.

He just hoped the pup liked it.

It still felt surreal writing the new name down on the paperwork Alfred brought over, and he was a bit embarrassed to admit that it was what kept distracting him as he led Alfred around the pup's-

No, Tim.

As he led Alfred around Tim's room.

Because he was named Tim now.

Once everything was approved, the two of them then headed on down to the lagoon to meet the rest of the pod.

Clark led him down the trail he'd made for his parents, stopping to point out exactly where Tim had been found and helping Alfred collect samples of plants, just in case anything had been missed.

They finally reached the lagoon and Clark called out for Bruce and Dick, who came over to introduce themselves.

That was expected.

What wasn't expected was Bruce freezing in shock and staring at the old mer doctor, recognition obvious on his face.

"Alfred?"

"Bruce?"

"What?" Clark blinked and looked back and forth between the two of them.

It was Dick who put it together first. "No, way. You made ANOTHER human friend?"

Or… almost together.

Bruce smiled…

(A real smile. One Clark hadn't seen since Jason.)

… and swam over to them, climbing up on a fallen log so he was high enough that Alfred wouldn't have to stoop to hug him.

"Dick, Clark, this is Alfred. He found me as a pup and raised me."

"Ohhh." Dick nodded. "Yeah, that sounds more likely."

"Hey." Bruce warned. "Alfred, this is my boyfriend Clark, and this is Dick."

"I was abandoned."

Alfred blinked in surprise, eyebrows raised in concern.

"Dick was left behind by his pod. We've been raising him for the past few years." Bruce explained.

"You have a son? A family?" Alfred couldn't have looked happier.

"A pod." Clark grinned, taking a seat on the log beside Bruce. "And, I'm sorry if this is a personal question, why haven't we met you yet?"

"Because I had no idea he was in the area." Bruce blushed and ducked his head. "I used to live in a cave behind his and Leslie's clinic, but a huge storm came through about ten years ago. I got swept away in it and wasn't able to find my way back."

"Wait, so, when we met-,"

"I was really just planning on passing through. But you were… well… I wasn't really planning on sticking around for as long as I did."

"Bruce, we are a forty minute swim up the coast. Explore your surroundings more, for crying out loud." Alfred pressed a hand to his eyes and shook his head in shame.

"I'm sorry. I- forty minutes? That's it?"

"Wow." Dick swam over to Alfred. "So you're the reason he likes tea?"

"Yes, I suppose I did introduce him to that." The doctor nodded.

"That actually explains a lot." Dick nodded. "You talk more like a human than a mer, and you know a ton of weird human facts."

"I told you I was raised by humans."

"Yeah, but I didn't really see it until now. So many things about you make sense now."

"Wait, like what?"

"Like how you're just barely better at hunting than I am. Despite the fact that you're an adult who never really had a pod before."

"I can hunt just fine." Bruce protested, insulted.

Dick, however, didn't look impressed. "Yeah, for someone my age. You should be a lot more adept than you are."

"I thought he was good at hunting." Clark had always just assumed that he was, at least. The boys had never gone hungry, after all.

"Well, Leslie and I raised him ourselves. He never got lessons from other mers and there was only so much we could teach him, so any hunting abilities he has, he taught himself." Alfred explained.

Clark nodded in understanding. "Ah, okay. That does clear some things up. Like why you don't like people bringing you food. It's like a pride thing, right?"

The expression on Bruce's face changed. "Clark, I love you, I do, but I don't have a problem with people bringing me food. Dick and I alternate hunting days. I have a problem with *you* bringing me food."

"What?"

"The first time we met, you were throwing dead fish at me."

"Yeah, I remember." Clark saw Alfred turn to face him, but pointedly didn't turn to see what expression he was wearing.

"I want you to imagine how that went from my perspective. Cause that's kind of the equivalent of someone walking into your house, throwing a cold cheeseburger at you and asking to be your friend."

"Oh, my god." Dick laughed. "Once again, *that* was his way of introducing himself, and it convinced you to move in permanently and raise two…"

Dick trailed off, eyes wide, while Bruce and Clark felt the smiles fall from their faces.

"Two..?" Alfred glanced between the three of them, clearly noticing the shift in mood.

"Jason." Bruce supplied. "Our youngest. He was killed a few months back."

"Oh, my. Bruce, I'm so sorry."

Clark watched Bruce bow his head, eyes closed, and found himself wondering, not for the first time, if they were really ready for another kid.

Yyyyy

A few days later, Clark, Leslie, and Alfred were the ones to prepare Tim for travel, while Ma and Pa stayed up by the cab of the ambulance. They wanted to be there, but didn't want to stress him out more than he already was by adding to the amount of people crowded around him.

Tim had grown used to Clark lifting him out of the water to feed him, but he seemed to sense that something big was about to happen and was now trying to avoid him at all costs.

The pool he was in was only a foot deep, and half filled, at that, so he wasn't actually able to escape, but he still flattened himself to the bottom of the pool.

"We're going to have you pick him up, and then Leslie and I will get the stretcher under him." Alfred directed, holding one side of a cloth stretcher supported by two poles running lengthwise up it. It looked almost like the ones Clark had seen used for dolphins in zoos.

Clark nodded and knelt beside Tim. The pup had gained enough strength during his stay to be able to crawl around the pool, but not enough to pull himself up and out of it, so he wasn't hard to catch.

His face was buried in his arms and his tailfin was firmly between himself and Clark. He was shaking like a leaf and every muscle in his body was tense, like he was expecting something bad to happen.

"You're alright. You're alright, buddy. We're just going on a little trip, okay?"

Tim didn't so much as look at him.

"I'm going to pick you up now, okay?"

Tim didn't budge, so, with a look back at Leslie and Alfred to make sure they were ready with the stretcher, Clark eased one hand under the pup's tail, and his other under his chest.

The pup flailed for a second, managing to turn himself over, but then grabbed Clark's hand and held on tight. The stretcher was placed beneath him, and he was lowered back down onto it, eyes wide and darting all around.

"Stop. Stop." Clark, keeping one hand on Tim's chest since the pup was clinging to it. "Just… let's just give him a minute. He's scared. I can feel his heart racing."

Alfred nodded. "It's not going to be easy to transport him like this. Do you think a sedative would help?"

Leslie nodded. "I'll be right back. Clark, you try your best to keep him calm."

Clark nodded and sat on the edge of the pool so Tim could continue to hold his hand easier.

The pup's hair flowed around his head, drifting in the water. He didn't even loosen his grip on Clark's hand.

Clark smiled down at him reassuringly. "Leslie's going to give you something to help you calm down, and then we'll be heading out. I know this is all strange and scary, but you've got a new pod who can't wait to meet you."

He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up. Alfred had a strange look on his face, like he knew something and wasn't about to tell anyone. "You're doing great."

"Um… Thanks?"

"I just want to make sure you understand that. This won't be easy. Raising a perfectly healthy child of your own species is hard enough, but you've already got a good start."

Alfred nodded his head back towards the pup, who was staring straight up at the ceiling, still breathing too fast for Clark's liking.

"He's scared. But he's also seeking comfort from you. He sees you as something safe. Make sure you remember to recognize the small victories."

Clark looked down at the pu-

Tim!

He looked down at Tim and rubbed his shoulder with his thumb, hand still held tightly in place. "Thank you, sir."

Yyyyy

The sun had set hours ago, but Clark found he couldn't quite fall asleep. He'd laid out a few thick blankets under his sleeping bag so he'd have a bit of padding between himself and the wooden floor, but that had only helped a little.

Tim was still coming out of the effects of the tranquilizer and wasn't too excited about his change of scenery.

He lay on his specialized hammock, glassy, unfocused eyes slipping over everything in the room. Clark wasn't too sure how much he was actually able to make out, considering he'd been looked at several times so far with absolutely no recognition crossing the pups features.

A few times, he'd heard a whine coming from the hammock, but Tim didn't appear to be in any kind of pain. He was concerned, until he noticed different little grunts and hums, along with Tim's confused expression and realized what was going on.

Tim was testing his voice.

He was sleepily checking that he could still make noises.

Clark couldn't hold back a smile, heart melting.

Tim making faces, furrowing his eyebrows in curiosity and surprise at each new noise was such a stark change from his usual silent, unexpressive demeanor that he almost looked like a completely different pup.

He was… playing.

Tim was playing.

Clark watched quietly for a while longer, smiling at the little noises the pup kept making. Eventually, Tim started growing restless, opening and closing his hands, grabbing the hammock and tapping at the water, so Clark tugged his sleeping bag as close to the edge of the floor as he dared and reached out, offering his hand to the pup.

Tim took it and played with it for a second, moving Clark's fingers, poking and squeezing it, before growing tired again and hugging it to his chest.

He fell asleep with his head leaning against Clark's arm.

Chapter Text

Tim was easy to handle for the first few days.

Clark would wake up early enough to see the sun rise, get to work on the farm duties that needed to be tended to first thing in the morning, head down to the lagoon to spend time with Bruce and Dick, and then head back up to the house to grab his laptop.

He'd then work on articles for the Daily Planet until Tim woke up.

He was starting to be able to eat on his own, with Clark just preparing his food for him, and then the two of them would work their way through physical therapy exercises.

This part usually was where Tim would need encouragement the most, as he hated his exercises.

He was able to do them for longer and longer each day, but Clark found pretty quickly that Tim growing grumpy was his way of signaling that he was ready for a nap.

Tim was gradually becoming a stronger swimmer, thanks to Clark wading in the deeper parts of the boathouse and holding his hands, but the pup still needed help getting into his hammock, and the rest of his time was spent on the underwater ledge or up on the floor.

Another thing Clark found out quickly was that he had to move very slowly and remain in the pup's line of sight at all times.

The stronger Tim got, the more his personality started coming out, and the more Clark was able to see just how much of that personality was made up of fear and mistrust.

He still sniffed each and every bite of food, kept his eyes glued to Clark anytime he was in the boathouse, and jumped back into a defensive position if anything spooked him.

Clark used Tim's daily naps as an opportunity to take care of more things around the farm and pass updates along to Bruce and Dick while either Ma or Pa sat with Timmy, just in case he needed anything.

It was during one of these naps that Clark started noticing a problem.

Pa was sitting with him currently while Clark was hauling a wheelbarrow out of the barn, dumping it with the rest of the horse droppings. He scooped it clean and took a second to breathe heavily, wiping his brow with the back of his hand.

His phone rang and he set the one-wheeled contraption fully back on the ground and answered it.

"Hello."

"Timmy just woke up. I could use a hand if you've got a second."

Given that Pa was not only a seasoned parent, but also a grandparent of several years, Clark left the wheelbarrow where it was and hurried over to the pond. If Pa was asking for help with Tim, something must have happened.

He made it to the door and opened it, stepping in to see Tim curled up tightly in the corner of the ledge, shaking, tail covering his head.

"Little guy had a nightmare. He was crying and shaking, so I tried to comfort him. I guess I scared him, though." Pa held his arms wide, showing where he'd been splashed.

"Did he hurt you?"

Pa shook his head. "No. And don't scold him. He didn't mean to."

Clark nodded and was about to go over to Tim, when Pa grabbed him by his elbow and pulled him back over to the door.

"Pa?"

"I know this isn't news to you, but I want to make sure you understand. This pup isn't going to be like Dick and Jason. He wasn't just abandoned. I'm pretty sure he's never been in a situation where he's been allowed to be loved and protected before."

Clark nodded. Tim's tail being as faded as it was had been a large source of concern for Leslie and Alfred, considering it was bad enough that the scales had begun to show physical damage.

As this was a result of poor nutrition, stress, and isolation, it helped paint a… less than favorable image of what his life up to then had been like.

It was also the reason he was still on water treatments-

Wait, no.

They had given Tim the last dose of his water treatment the night before.

"Shoot." Clark ran a hand through his hair, suddenly remembering something.

"What's wrong?" Pa asked.

Clark walked out the door to the small trash bin he'd been using and pulled out the bottle of medicine made to help repair damaged pup scales.

"Yeah, I thought so." He showed the side effects section to his father. "This was making him sleepy. Which means that he's going to be spending more time awake."

"Ah. He's dropping a nap. And since you're the only one he's comfortable around…" Pa raised a knowing eyebrow at him.

"He hasn't even met Bruce and Dick yet, and you and Ma typically only watch him while he's sleeping, so he doesn't know you too well."

"There's also the issue that you usually leave when he's sleeping, so he's now going to be aware that you're gone. That might damage the trust you've managed to build."

Clark shook his head and dropped the bottle back into the trash.

What was he going to do now?

He should have been more diligent in making sure Tim was comfortable around other people than just him, but at the same time, he didn't want to push too much onto the pup while he was still in recovery.

That being said, Tim was still very skittish around him as it was.

He couldn't bring him down to the lagoon, as he was still struggling to swim.

He couldn't bring Bruce up to the pond, because that wouldn't be good for the large mer to suddenly go from the ocean to a landlocked pond with maybe a handful of fish in it.

Bringing Dickie up was out of the question for several reasons.

What did his parents do when they adopted him?

They'd both had to work the farm, as it had been a lot bigger back then. How had they managed with a…

Wait.

He remembered old photos from dusty albums featuring his mother and occasionally his father taken back when he was a baby.

He remembered laughing about how funny their solution to a not-yet-mobile child on a farm looked.

But now?

It was perfect.

He hoped.

Chapter Text

"This is going to take some work. For both of us."

Clark sliced another bite sized chunk out of the octopus Bruce had caught that morning, passing it down to Tim.

"But ultimately this will solve a lot of things."

Tim nibbled at the octopus, watching him. He still hadn't shown any signs of talking, and the only time he'd made noise was back when he'd been under the effects of a sedative.

But Clark wasn't discouraged.

Timmy seemed to understand what he said, so he always made sure to tell him what was going to be happening. He'd also been watching videos online whenever he had a few free minutes to learn sign language.

He knew… maybe four signs? In addition to the alphabet and the first ten numbers, that is.

It wasn't much, but he was proud of the progress he'd managed to make.

"We'll start small, just to get you used to it, but hopefully this will lead to you getting to know the others. You'll get fresh air without having to swim deeper into the pond, and I won't have to leave you alone."

He handed over a piece of dried seaweed. The pup apparently liked the crunch, and it was adorable watching him happily chew on it. It was also easier to store it dried, so it had become a constantly stocked snack in the boathouse.

Tim took the seaweed, but tilted his head to the side, looking confused.

"Do you… not want the seaweed? Are you full?" Clark guessed.

Tim quickly looked down and bit the leaf as if worried Clark was about to take it.

"Okay."

Clark sliced a few more chunks out of the octopus before returning it to the ice chest. He then added them to a plate with some more seaweed and slid it over to Tim.

"You finish your lunch and then we'll go for a little walk, alright?"

He smiled at the even more confused look that Timmy shot him.

Yyyyy

Clark moved slowly, making absolutely sure Timmy wasn't scared. The little mer was wrapped in a long blanket, much like the one his mother used to carry him around on her back when he was a baby.

Timmy had been very confused while Ma and Clark had worked together figuring out how to wrap it best, but now he was clinging tightly to Clark's shoulders, tail fin hanging loose by Clark's hip, while the two of them left the boathouse.

Clark heard Timmy gasp and turned his head, seeing the pup's wide eyes as he looked out at the rest of the pond.

"Oh, yeah. You were asleep when we brought you home. You wouldn't have seen this yet. As soon as you're better at swimming, we can open the boathouse doors so you can explore. That's something to look forward to, right?"

Tim didn't reply, but he rested his cheek against the back of Clark's shoulder, relaxing slightly.

"You ready to get going? We're going to just start off with a walk today, so we can both get used to this."

Tim didn't seem to protest as Clark walked them away from the pond, over towards the animal fields.

"This is where we keep our cows, typically. We've got five right now, but back when I was your age, we had a whole herd. Have you ever seen a cow?"

Tim blinked owlishly at the large animals, and Clark decided that maybe cows weren't the best animal to introduce him to. They were still out on the other side of the pasture grazing, so he turned and walked away, trying to decide what would be a good first animal to show a skittish mer pup.

The cats were all barn cats and he didn't want to risk them scratching Tim.

Ace was still young and excitable.

The chickens were small and fluffy, but the rooster tended to be aggressive.

Which led him to the sheep.

"Here we go. These guys are pretty tame and docile. Have you ever seen a sheep?" He knelt down just outside the fence so Tim was eye level with the two who were closest and looked back at him.

Tim's eyes were wide, but he wasn't leaning back or giving any signals that he was scared.

In fact, he looked almost… curious.

"Would you like to pet her? She's really fluffy." Clark asked.

He wouldn't pressure Tim, but he did want to encourage him to be a bit more outgoing.

Tim, eyes still locked on the sheep, leaned in a little closer.

The sheep, curiously reaching out her nose to sniff the newcomer, 'baa'd' loudly, causing Tim to jump and hide behind Clark.

"It's okay. They make that sound sometimes. See?" Clark moved slightly and rubbed the sheep's nose. "Do you want to pet her?"

Timmy moved his head out from behind Clark's shoulder and watched as he pet the sheep.

After a few minutes of being ignored, its friend turned and walked away, finding a new patch of grass to feed on. Clark picked a handful of grass from outside the fence and held it out, keeping the sheep he was showing Tim from following.

As the sheep munched on its grass, Clark felt a small hand tap his arm.

He turned his head and saw Tim hovering his hand by Clark's bicep, wanting to reach out and pet the animal, but hesitating.

Smiling, Clark slowly took Timmy's hand and guided it closer, until he was petting the thick wool of the sheep.

The pup was mesmerized.

He ran his fingers, and then his hand over the animal, happily petting it. The sheep didn't care, just happy to munch on grass, but Clark couldn't hold back a smile at the wide-eyed look of wonder on Tim's face.

The sheep then apparently grew bored and wandered off after its friend.

Tim watched it walk away, opening and closing his hand the way he had his first night in the boathouse. Clark reached up to hold the hand, smiling. It was a little thing he'd noticed that Tim liked to do whenever he was excited, curious, wary, or just experiencing pretty much any kind of emotion too big to contain.

"Are you ready to head back to the pond? We could practice swimming a bit more. Or would you like to meet the rest of the pod?"

Tim sank back into the blanket, cheek resting against Clark's shoulder again, hand growing still.

He didn't want to decide.

"I'll tell you what. We'll go meet Bruce and Dick, but you can stay with me the whole time, and if you start feeling tired or anything, we can go back to the pond, okay?"

Tim didn't say anything.

Clark stood and turned towards the lagoon when he felt something.

Timmy, still leaning his head against Clark, moved slightly.

He was nodding.

He was starting to respond.

Clark made the whole walk down to the lagoon with a smile on his face.

Chapter Text

"You two make sure to move slow alright? He's still getting used to everything." Clark reminded, standing at the edge of the dock.

Tim's fingers were tightly twisted into his shirt, but he was still leaning just far enough over Clark's shoulder to see the new mers.

"Hi." Dick called up softly, waving. Clark was proud of how restrained the blue pup was being, given that he was the more impatient of the two when it came to when they would meet Timmy.

"Hey, Timmy? I'm going to sit down now, alright?"

No response this time.

But Clark didn't let that get to him. He'd gotten one response out of the pup so far, and he was happy with the progress they'd made. Plus, he now had confirmation that Timmy could both hear and understand what he was saying.

He lowered himself to sit on the dock, Tim still attached to his back, and leaned closer to the edge so the three of them could see each other.

"This is Bruce." Clark introduced. "He's my boyfriend, and once you're stronger and are able to move down here, you'll be living with him. He's going to be your other father."

Tim stiffened, curling tighter against Clark's back, but Clark wanted to finish the greetings before taking him back up to the boathouse.

"And this is Dickie. Do you think you can wave 'hello'?"

Tim's face was firmly tucked behind his shoulder, and he was starting to shake.

Damnit.

"Okay. Okay, buddy. It looks like you're ready to head back up to the pond." He smiled ruefully at Bruce and Dick, who both looked concerned for the pup, but let them leave without protesting. "Come on. Let's get you back."

The two trudged back up the hill, Timmy remaining stiff and hiding his face the entire time.

"Let's see. Are you ready for a nap? Or are you up for swimming?"

Again, no response.

Nap it was, then.

Yyyyy

"Come on. Come on, you can do it." Clark coaxed a few hours later, after Tim had woken up.

The two of them were in the water, Clark in his blue swim trunks and Tim in an inner tube. It was designed to assist with floating so a recovering pup could just focus on moving around.

Tim glared deeper at Clark, but still moved his tail up and down, following him through the water. His tail was so long it flowed in waves behind him,

Clark kept encouraging the pup to keep going, reaching out every now and then to turn Tim back towards him, as the pup was still a bit wonky.

"You've almost got it." Clark held his arms wide, giving the pup a wide target to aim for. "Right here. Just a little further."

Tim bumped the floatation device against Clark and let himself fall limp against it, panting.

"Good job, buddy. You're getting better at this."

Clark thought he saw a smile, but the pup looked away before he could be sure.

"Hey, come on, now." Clark grinned and grabbed the inner tube, pulling it after him as he walked around the water. "You're allowed to be proud of yourself. You've come a long way."

Tim looked up at him, face staying as it was. Although he did relax into his inner tube a bit more, seemingly enjoying the ride.

"So how did you like going for a walk today?" He turned so he was walking backwards and could now see Tim's reactions.

The pup didn't give him a lot to work with, but that didn't stop him from trying.

"I thought it went well. And I think it will work out best for both of us if that becomes part of our daily routine. Well, for now, at least. And you'll be able to get used to the others."

Tim watched the ripples on the water intently.

"You'll also get to pet more sheep." Clark grinned when that finally got a reaction.

The pup blinked and looked up at him, eyes wide.

This was going to be a change, of course, but at least he'd been able to give Tim something to look forward to. And, hopefully, he'd eventually be able to feel the same amount of excitement about going down to the lagoon.

Chapter Text

Tim yawned widely, rolling partially over on the floorboards and rubbing his eye with the back of his wrist.

"You look sleepy." Clark chuckled, rubbing the top of Tim's head.

Tim hummed and covered his eyes, shielding them from the overhead light.

"Let me get this on you. You can go back to sleep while I'm working, okay?" Clark wrapped the blanket snuggly around the pup and lifted him onto his back.

Tim immediately curled up against Clark's back, falling back to sleep easily.

Clark turned off the light and headed out to start on the early morning chores. Timmy had gotten used to their arrangement over the past few days, though he hadn't been back down to the lagoon yet.

Today, after work, would be his second time.

Bruce had been concerned about Timmy's reaction to seeing him and Dick, so they were going to be working on getting him used to being around other mers.

His swim lessons would now be held in the lagoon, and Clark had spent the last few days getting Bruce and Dick acquainted with Tim's physical therapy exercises so they could help.

An hour and a half later, Tim had woken up and was quietly enjoying the ride. Occasionally, Clark would hand him something to hold and Tim would obediently take it. Despite everything, the pup actually seemed to like being helpful as Clark worked.

Holding a horse's lead rope while Clark tried to get the old stall door to unlock after years of being chewed on by the riding school reject they'd paid fifty bucks for?

No problem.

Handfuls of chicken feed?

The only issue was showing him that he was supposed to *throw* the food.

Moving the sheep out to a pasture?

Timmy did such a good job of holding the fence open that Clark stopped the last sheep and knelt down so Tim could pet it.

How did Clark know Tim wanted to pet the sheep?

That was another little thing the two had managed to learn to communicate.

Whenever Timmy saw something he wanted to pet, he'd tap his hand against Clark's arm. The sheep and barn cats were his favorites, though, so they were always accompanied by his 'grabby hands'.

Clark straightened up and Tim waved as the sheep walked off after the rest of its flock.

"Well, buddy. It's breakfast time. What are you in the mood for?"

Tim curled back up against Clark's shoulder.

"Let's see." He thought out loud, heading back to the boathouse. "We've got some of yesterday's octopus left. Or salmon. Or Dickie caught a seagull for you to try, if you want something new."

Tim was still, breathing slowly.

"Would you like me to choose?"

Tim twitched.

"Alright. My choice it is."

Yyyyy

Later that day, Tim was back in his blanket. He and Clark were headed down to the lagoon, Clark carrying towels, Tim's floaty, and a printout of physical therapy directions from Alfred just in case.

"The tide's out right now, so you won't have to worry about currents pulling you around."

Timmy remained silent.

"Bruce and I will both be in the water with you in case anything happens."

Tim shifted slightly, curling in closer to Clark's back.

"I know you're nervous, but Bruce and Dick are really nice. And they'll be able to spend more time in the water with you than I am."

No response. Not even a twitch.

"I'll be with you the entire time, okay, buddy? Promise." He reached his hand up to his shoulder.

Tim grabbed it, holding it carefully as if not entirely sure what he was supposed to do with it.

Clark let him hold on all the way down to the water.

Bruce and Dick met them at the water's edge, not too far from the dock.

"Alright, Timmy." Clark dropped the floaty into the water and sat down, undoing the blanket and freeing the pup.

Tim pushed himself back from the water, staring very uneasily at the two mers while Clark removed his shoes, pants, and shirt, leaving him in just his trunks.

"Are you ready?" He knelt down and held out a hand. "Do you want up?"

Tim didn't take the hand.

He just kept staring at the pair in the water, looking weary.

"I know you don't like physical therapy, but you need to do it. It's what's helping you recover." Clark, making sure to move slowly and stay in Tim's line of sight the whole time, knelt and gathered the small pup in his arms.

Tim flattened himself against Clark's chest, and Clark could feel that his heart rate was getting faster.

"Timmy, buddy, take a deep breath, okay?" Clark moved slowly into the water, signaling for Bruce and Dick to give them some space. "You're safe. I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

Tim, doing his best to listen, closed his eyes and drew in a shaky gasp.

He then tried again.

Clark offered one of his hands to hold, which wasn't too easy, given that he was still holding Tim.

Tim took the hand and held it tight with both of his own hands, gradually slowing his breathing.

"There you go. That's better. Just take a second." Clark coaxed.

Tim relaxed a bit, opened his eyes, but didn't let go of Clark's hand.

"I'm going to put you in the water now, okay? You don't have to let go of my hand just yet if you don't want to, but it's time to swim. Here we go."

Clark lowered Tim slowly down, making sure his tail went into the floaty.

"Hello, Tim-,"

Bruce was cut off as Tim, having not seen the mer behind him, panicked and flailed, trying to get as far from the perceived threat as he could.

"Whoa!" Clark was pulled off-balance as Tim flapped his tail, both splashing Bruce and propelling himself backwards.

Clark's hand was still clutched in Tim's hands so tight that when he fell, Tim was pulled under as well.

Thankfully, Clark was able to regain his footing pretty fast. He lifted Tim out of the water and carried him to the shore, where the pup wriggled free and struggled the last few feet to where the blanket was laid out.

He grabbed it tight and panted, eyes wide with fear darting between the two men.

"I-I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Tim. I didn't mean to scare you-," Bruce reached out to the pup, but froze and retracted his hand when Tim both growled and pushed himself back, trying to distance himself.

"Okay, buddy. I think that's enough for today. Why don't we get you back to the pond?" Clark carefully moved towards the pup, who changed directions and started trying to claw his way away from the human.

He still wasn't strong enough to make much progress, so when Clark picked him up he instead just balled himself up as small as he could get.

"You're okay." Clark whispered, somewhat disturbed by the fact that Tim looked like he was desperately trying to protect his head, as if he thought Clark was about to… what? Hurt him?

And then Clark felt a wave of entirely different emotions.

Anger and rage.

Someone had hurt him in the past.

Protectiveness.

Whoever had, would never see him again. Tim was safe now, and he didn't care how long it took for his pup to realize that.

But also…

Grief.

Jason would have taken one look at him and been able to cuddle him until he felt better.

Jason would have loved Timmy.

Wouldn't he?

He would have been a great big brother.

He would have…

Clark shook his head.

Now wasn't the time to think about him.

Tim. He needed to focus on Tim.

"We can try this again later, how about that? Let's get you back to the pond."

He knelt to gather the blanket, floaty, papers, and towels. He then decided that the towels could stay where they were and said goodbye to Dick and a worried-looking Bruce, promising to come back down in a little while.

The walk back up the hill took longer than normal, due to the terrified ball of pup he was carrying, and when they finally reached the boathouse door, Clark slipped inside, feeling guilty for wondering if Timmy really would have been better off at a mer rehabilitation facility.

At least they would have known what they were doing.

Chapter Text

Clark trudged down to the lagoon in the dark.

Timmy had finally fallen asleep, though it had been a long process to get him there. The pup had flatly refused to eat dinner, which was concerning. He'd also taken his floaty and placed himself in a back corner of the boathouse, as far from Clark as possible.

It had taken hours to convince Tim that he wasn't in danger, and by that point, they were both exhausted. The pup had wearily allowed Clark to wade out to him and pull him back in after a while, too tired to resist.

Clark had laid him in his hammock and stayed with him until he'd fallen asleep, talking and trying to comfort him.

He'd even offered his hand to cuddle, but Tim didn't take it.

"Clark."

Clark's head snapped up at the call, not realizing until then that he'd been lost in his own head.

Dick waved from the water. Alone.

"Hey. Where's Bruce?" Clark looked around, but nothing else in the water was moving.

"He went for a swim." Dick looked worried. "He said he wanted to be alone for a bit, so I stayed here."

Somewhere in the back of his mind, an alarm bell started to ring.

"How long ago was this?"

"A few hours after you took Tim back to the boathouse, as soon as the inlet was passable. I think he felt bad for scaring Tim. But he's still not back." Dick turned to point across the water. "And now the inlet's dry again."

Oh, no.

Clark closed his eyes and exhaled deeply.

He was tired.

Stressed.

Trying to figure out how to keep a mute, special needs pup alive and well while maintaining a farm, holding down a full-time job, building a relationship, and raising another pup.

He couldn't handle another crisis.

"He's… he's coming back. Right?" Dick asked.

"Yeah. Go to bed, buddy. I'll go find him."

Dick nodded and swam off to bed, though he didn't look like he'd actually be getting much sleep.

Clark didn't blame him.

He turned and headed back up to his car.

After Dick got locked out, they had all agreed on a meeting place should something like that ever happen again.

A few minutes from the Kent family farm was a dirt road leading to a small strip of beach. It was perfect size for a small picnic, but not much else, and it was so far back that hardly anyone knew it existed.

Which also meant that Clark's car had to suffer potholes the entire length of the dirt road.

He pulled to a stop and breathed a sigh of relief as his headlights illuminated Bruce, seated on shore and staring out across the water.

The mer didn't react at all to Clark's presence. Not even when the man sat beside him.

The dark water rolled and waved as far as they could see, lapping at the ground in front of them.

"I don't…" Bruce started, but trailed off, words fading to a soft sigh.

Clark let him take a minute.

"I'm… I'm trying. I'm trying to be okay. I'm trying to be there for Dickie."

His voice broke.

"I- I just don't know how long I can do this."

"Bruce-,"

"I got him killed, Clark! Jason's dead because of me. How can I live with that?" Bruce hung his head, arms braced against the sand on either side of his tail.

Oh, god.

His tail…

Clark's heart stuttered painfully in his chest as he took a closer look at his boyfriend's tail.

It was fading.

"Sweetheart, no. You- look at me." Clark lifted Bruce's face so they were looking at each other. "You can't blame yourself. I'm the one who let him go."

"I should have told him *why* I wanted him to stay put. I just thought… he was the only one. The only one of us who didn't have some personal trauma thanks to those… fucking murderers." He whispered the last two words with more venom and hatred than Clark had ever heard from him.

"Bruce, you did the right thing."

Bruce lunged at Clark suddenly, grabbing the front of his shirt roughly. "STOP IT! JUST STOP IT. You're supposed to hate me! I- I'm the reason he's dead." Bruce choked out a sob, bowing his head against Clark's chest. "I got him killed."

Clark wrapped his arms around his boyfriend's shaking form. He didn't say anything. But as they sat there, he found his eyesight grew more blurry. His breathing became choked.

He reached up and removed his glasses, folding them and placing them an arms length away.

He hugged Bruce tight and felt as he fell to pieces.

The two of them cried.

Mourned.

Remembered.

For hours.

They eventually ended up laying on their backs in the sand, side by side, watching the stars and whispering stories back and forth to each other, voices raw from crying.

"He got his first adult scale. I… I don't think I ever told you. That was what he wanted to go show you that day. His scales would have been brown."

Bruce grinned weakly. "I should have guessed. His eyesight was always ridiculously good. That meant he would have been incredible at hunting in much deeper water."

"He would have loved that. All sorts of things to find down there."

"Hey, Clark?"

"Hm? What?"

Bruce licked his lips, looking like he was trying to find the right words. "Thank you. For all you've done for us. For what you're doing for Timmy. I know this hasn't been easy. But, do you think we did the right thing by taking him in? Do you think he's going to be happy with us?"

"Yes. It might not be right away, but I know he's going to love you and Dick."

Bruce didn't look convinced. "Are you sure? He looked terrified of me."

Clark lifted his head and kissed Bruce's temple. "I'm sure. And that's not me just being corny. Timmy's… Timmy's had a really rough life up to this point. I don't know everything that happened to him, but I've got my guesses. He's scared of everything and everyone. All the time. I think putting him in the water with you so fast was a mistake on my part. I overestimated how much he'd be okay with. It might take some time, but if we move at his pace, a little bit a day, he'll come around."

"You think so?"

Clark grinned. "He's a sweetheart once he opens up to you, you'll see. But we're going to have to keep an eye on him when he gets older. He's already got this glint in his eyes like he's come up with some sort of master plan."

Bruce smiled. "I can't wait to meet him."

Chapter Text

"We're not going in the water. We're just going to sit here for a bit, okay?" Clark let Tim down from his back, but kept him wrapped in the blanket.

He then sat beside him and took him by the hand.

Tim turned his entire focus onto the hand, grabbing it with both of his and pointedly looking absolutely nowhere but the hand.

Clark smiled softly, allowing himself to mentally sigh just a little bit. Timmy was finally back to holding onto him for comfort, after days of coaxing and quietly sitting with him.

Down below the dock, the tide lapped at the shore.

"Bruce and Dickie will stay in the water. You and I will stay up here."

Timmy remained fixed on Clark's hand, and Clark was starting to see that he was flicking his eyes one by one at each crease in his hand.

Over and over.

The three going up his pinkie finger, then his ring finger, then his middle finger, index finger, and thumb. Then his palm. Then his wrist.

And then he'd start over at the pinkie.

Over and over.

Slowing each time.

He was calming himself down from panicking.

He'd taught himself a way to control his anxiety.

Clark couldn't have felt more proud at that moment, and he brought his other hand over to ruffle the pup's hair.

"You're doing great, buddy. You're doing great. We're just going to take things easy today. No swimming while we're down here yet. Do you want to wave 'hello' to Bruce and Dick?"

Tim took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

He kept his grip on Clark's hand, but tilted his head to look up at Clark with uncertain eyes.

"Like this." Clark lifted the hand his pup wasn't holding and waved down at the two in the water.

Tim slowly, haltingly, craned his neck until he was able to see over the edge of the dock.

Bruce and Dick waved up to him.

Tim jerked back, holding Clark's hand to his head like he was trying to hide behind it.

When nothing happened, however, he blinked his eyes open and glanced up at Clark.

"Its okay. Do you want to try again?"

Tim grabbed the corner of the blanket he was wrapped in and pulled it tighter around himself.

He then raised his head again, this time staying still when he saw the other two mers.

"Hi, Timmy." Dick waved.

"Hello, sweetheart." Bruce smiled warmly, and Clark was glad to see that it wasn't forced at all.

He was feeling better after their night on the beach. His tail was still discolored, but it was Clark's hope that slowly introducing Timmy to the pod would help Bruce.

The mer might have done well without a pod in the past, but now that he'd built one he'd grown to need them.

And, not only had they lost Jason, but bringing Tim home meant that Clark was able to spend significantly less time at the lagoon, which had only served to further Bruce's loneliness.

Tim looked up at Clark again, but then turned back towards the others, unwrapped his fingers from the blanket, and twitched his hand back and forth.

The smile on Bruce's face could have lit up a room.

Yyyyy

A few hours later, Timmy was curled up in Clark's lap, sleeping. He was wrapped in his blanket still, though it had been redone when he'd settled down for a nap. He now had the blanket covering him almost entirely, with some excess material pulled up over his head like a hood.

Clark, Bruce, and Dick had passed the time talking amongst themselves so that Timmy didn't feel like all the attention was on him.

He'd gradually relaxed until he started to yawn, curling closer to Clark.

Clark had noticed, scooped him up, and held him as the pup drifted off.

"He's come a long way." Bruce remarked.

"Yeah. It hasn't been easy, but he's been making steady progress." Clark felt his phone buzz and pulled it out of his pocket.

"Is that work?"

Clark shook his head. "Just a reminder. It's lunchtime for Timmy."

"Does this mean you have to take him back to the pond?" Dick frowned.

Clark looked down and rubbed the top of Tim's head, pulling his hair back to see his face. "How about we see if he wants to eat down here today? If not, I'll take him up, but it's worth a shot."

"Dick and I can go hunting real quick. Is there anything he likes?"

"If you can find a trout, that's his favorite, but he's not too picky. He also likes the seaweed you gathered last time. I don't remember what it's called."

"Arame? Yeah, I'll grab some."

"Thank you."

Bruce and Dick swam off and Clark rubbed his thumb over Tims cheek, waking him up.

Tim let out a tired grunt and blinked blearily. He then opened his mouth in a wide yawn and rubbed the backs of his hands against his eyes.

"Hey, Timmy. Are you awake?"

Timmy let out a soft, but clearly annoyed, squeak and rested his head back against Clark's chest, closing his eyes again.

"Ah, ah. Hey. It's lunchtime. Are you hungry?"

Tim opened his eyes about halfway, but then sank back into the blanket.

Clark chuckled. "Buddy, I said it's lunchtime."

Timmy glared at him.

"Clark, here." Bruce reappeared in the water, calling up softly so he didn't startle Tim. He handed up a clump of seaweed and a small trout.

"Thank you." Clark took them and set them on the dock, grabbing a leaf from the seaweed. He then carefully unwrapped Timmy's hands from the blanket and nudged the seaweed into one of them.

Tim blinked in confusion and brought his hand up to see what was in it. As soon as he recognized it, he sat up a bit straighter and started happily munching away.

Clark handed him another piece to keep him occupied while he tried to de-bone the fish with one hand.

He eventually got one small chunk done and handed it over to the pup, who was now awake enough to quietly do 'grabby hands' while watching as Clark started on his next piece.

A hand reached out of the water and brushed his, breaking his concentration. Bruce looked uncertain, but flicked his eyes down to the fish, silently asking permission.

Clark, trusting him, pulled his hand away and handed Timmy another bit of the seaweed.

Bruce sat back in the water, floating peacefully as he meticulously pulled each and every bone out of the fish, passing chunks up to his boyfriend, who in turn fed them to their son.

Clark couldn't stop the smile that formed on his face.

It had taken a lot of work to reach where they were now.

They still had a long road ahead of them.

But, like Alfred had said, it was important to celebrate the small victories.

And right now?

This was a victory.

Chapter Text

"Come on, Timmy. Over here." Dick waved his hands, animatedly encouraging the small pup to chase him.

It had now been a month since their first meeting and Timmy had progressed enough that he was now having his first swimming lesson in the lagoon without his floaty.

Tim wasn't near as agile or graceful as Dick, but he was very quickly proving to be competitive, and Dick wasn't one to back down from a playmate.

He'd dart to a boulder or low root, staying where he was and calling tips and cheering on Timmy as the pup chased him around the lagoon, splashing and using his arms to stay at the surface as much as he could. As soon as he reached Dick, the blue mer would swim to another perch to repeat the process over again.

"His colors darkening." Bruce commented.

He and Clark were seated side by side on the dock, watching the pair.

"Oh, thank God. I was wondering if I was just imagining that." Clark laughed.

"No, he's definitely regaining his color."

"It looks like you are, too." Clark nudged Bruce's tail. There was still some gray around his fin-tips, but that was all. The rest of his scales had regained their inky blackness, speckles and all.

Bruce frowned and looked down at the water. "I… was kind of hoping it wasn't that noticeable."

"What, that your scales had faded? Why?"

Bruce was silent for a bit, watching the ripples of the water as they headed for shore.

He then let out a heavy sigh and shook his head.

"I don't know. I just… I almost feel like I… I shouldn't be allowed to grieve."

"Bruce, no."

"I know. I know. I know it's stupid. It's just…"

Bruce trailed off and Clark pulled him in for a hug.

"He was our baby. Everything he went through before he got here, and he was still so… optimistic. Happy. We told him we'd protect him. That he'd be safe here. Clark, I failed. I let them kill him."

"Bruce, can I ask you something?"

"... Yeah."

"Do you blame me? For what happened?"

"What? No."

"I'm just as guilty as you."

Bruce pushed himself out of the hug. "Clark-,"

"Bruce, everyone could see how much you loved him. Blaming yourself won't bring him back."

Bruce stared at him for a while in silence before sinking back into Clark's arms, burying his face in the human's shoulder. "I lost my son the same way I lost my parents. I feel like I should have known better."

"Not a day goes by that I don't miss him, either. And I'll be the first to admit that I'm no expert on overcoming a tragedy like this. But blaming yourself isn't helping." He pressed a kiss to Bruce's forehead. "You've got me to lean on, as well as Ma, Pa, Leslie, and Alfred."

"I know." Bruce relaxed slightly in Clark's arms. "And-,"

"Hey, Clark?" Dick called from across the lagoon. "Timmy threw up."

"Uh, oh." Clark straightened up.

"I got him." Bruce lowered himself down into the water, swimming over to the pups. He approached them slowly and Clark could see his mouth moving as he told Timmy that he was going to carry him back to the dock.

It was the first time Timmy didn't protest against Bruce holding him.

The three of them reached the dock and Clark lifted Timmy out of the water.

The pup's cheeks were red, he didn't seem to be able to catch his breath, and as soon as he was set on the dock he splayed himself out against the wood like he was trying to cool himself off.

"Buddy, are you alright? Do you feel sick?"

Tim squeaked out a small whimper and buried his face in his arms.

"I- I saw that he was getting tired, but I just thought he was getting annoyed about not catching me." Dick pulled himself up so that he was hanging from the dock by his arms, worriedly watching as Clark checked out Tim.

"You think he pushed himself too far?" Bruce asked.

"Yeah, that's probably what happened. I completely forgot to keep an eye on him." Clark rubbed Tim's back. "He doesn't exactly know how to tell when enough is enough."

Yyyyy

Clark nodded his head in time to the soft music he had playing in the boathouse as he prepared Tim's dinner. The pup had been sleeping in his hammock for the past few hours, despite Clark continuously checking on him.

Tim had definitely made himself sick, complete with a fever, and Clark was doing his best to not panic.

Except, when he woke Tim up and handed him his food, the pup's response was to push it away and grumpily glare at Clark.

"Come on, buddy. Just a little bit?"

Tim just pushed the food away again.

"Tim, please?"

Tim angrily flicked his tail, splashing Clark and knocking the plate into the water.

"Tim!" He caught the plate before it lost much of the food. "Buddy, you need to eat."

Tim glared and sank back against his hammock, growling softly.

"Are you not hungry?"

Tim stopped growling, but didn't lighten his glare.

"Do you just want to go back to sleep?" Clark asked.

Tim didn't budge.

"Okay. I'll be right over here if you need anythi- oh?" Clark found his hand trapped in Tim's grip. "You want me to stay?"

Tim looked away, like he was suddenly uncertain, but then looked hopefully back up at Clark.

"Okay. Of course, buddy." He sat down on the edge of the floor and placed the plate behind him.

Tim settled back down, comfortably playing with Clark's hand. Clark watched him with a smile.

At one point, Tim blinked and paused, causing Clark to pause as well. Tim tugged his sleeve up and squinted, leaning closer like he was trying to figure out what he was seeing.

"That's a scar." Clark told him.

"Our son Jason bit me once, and that's how it healed."

Tim cocked his head to the side.

Clark took one of Timmy's hands and held it, rubbing his thumb over the back of it. "Jason… would have been your big brother. He passed away a few months before we met you."

Tim blinked, tilting his head to the other side.

Yyyyy

Clark woke up to a splash really early the next morning. He jolted up, and stopped when he saw Tim finish pulling himself up onto the floor.

He panted for a second, and then dragged himself slowly but determinedly over to Clark, where he proceeded to curl up otter-style.

Clark lay flat on his back, not daring to move and disturb his pup.

He was suddenly and very vividly reminded of another red-tailed pup curling up on him the same way.

'Yay! Cuddle time with Clark!'

Timmy settled down, nuzzled into his chest, and fell asleep.

Clark wrapped his arms around him and held him tight.

"You're going to be safe here. I promise."

Yyyyy

Clark and Tim woke up a few hours later to the sound of Clark's alarm.

Tim was set back on the submerged platform while Clark got ready to get to work.

"I'll be back in a little while. Will you be okay here on your own?" Clark really didn't want to leave him, but he also really didn't want to haul a sick pup all around the farm.

Tim whined and reached for the blanket.

"I'm sorry, buddy. I'll be back soon."

"... sheep..?"

Clark froze in the doorway.

What..?

"What… was that?"

Tim looked down at the water, but then seemed to gather his courage and looked back up at Clark. "Sh-sheep?"

Clark couldn't believe his ears. "You… you want to see the sheep?"

Timmy nodded.

Clark was so excited he didn't even waste time with the blanket, opting instead to just scoop Timmy up and carry him right out to the sheep barn.

Timmy's eyes went comically wide when Clark carried him right into the middle of the flock and knelt down, seating Timmy on his knee and letting him pet every sheep.

Timmy was smiling so wide and laughing so hard at all the sheep licking his face that he had tears in his eyes.

Clark felt so much pride well up in his chest looking at the scene in front of him.

My son.

He was surprised at how hard that feeling slammed into him, but he knew without a doubt that it felt right.

His son.

His son had just spoken.

And Clark couldn't have been happier.

Chapter Text

"Hey, Clark?" Dick asked, curled up on the dock beside Clark. "Do you think Tim can spend the night down here?"

Clark raised an eyebrow at Dick. "What brought this up?"

Dick nodded across the lagoon, at where Bruce was giving Timmy a hunting lesson.

"Timmy's going to move down here at some point, and he's gotten to be a pretty good swimmer. He doesn't even really swim crooked anymore. And, well, I think I want to go with Wally's pod again for the rest of their migration. Bruce is going to need someone here with him."

Had it been nearly a year already?

"Let's… ask Bruce and Timmy once they've caught their fish." Clark was glad that Dick wanted to continue to migrate, but part of him hadn't mentally prepared himself for this time of year, especially with what had happened the previous year.

For the moment, though, they both sat back and resumed watching Bruce teach Timmy.

Bruce had herded a small fish into a shallow part of the lagoon for Timmy to try and capture. So far, they would all be going hungry.

"... Clark, the migration will be over by the time he catches it." Dick winced as Timmy lunged for the fish and ended up face planting in the sand.

Timmy shook his head angrily, dislodging most of the sand, and growling at the fish. He lunged at it again, but suddenly yelped and whipped around.

"Oh, ouch. He just scraped his tail." Dick winced in sympathy. "Those blackberry vines suck to swim into."

Clark adjusted his glasses, not quite sure if he'd just seen Timmy shoot a look their way.

Whether he had or hadn't, Clark couldn't tell, as he was off and moving a second later. He darted towards the terrified fish, who dodged him easily.

This time, though, Tim spun and blocked the fish, scaring it rather than trying to grab it. Again and again, like he was herding it somewhere.

A second later, they all saw what he had in mind, as the fish ended up swimming right into a spike Tim had set up, impaling itself in its attempt to get away from the pup.

Timmy turned to look up at Bruce. "That counts, right?"

Bruce raised an eyebrow towards Clark, who was able to see it clearly, even though he was currently cleaning his glasses.

"I mean, you caught it. So, yeah. It counts."

Timmy turned and got to work freeing his fish while Bruce swam over to the dock.

Yyyyy

"I'm staying… here?" Timmy tilted his head to the side, holding part of his fish.

"If you want." Clark stressed.

Tim turned to look at the dry inlet.

"Yes, that will mean being down here while the tide is in, but you're going to be with Dick and Bruce. They've lived down here for years now, and will keep you safe."

Tim looked unsure and let himself sink lower in the water, but turned to Dick anyway, eyes questioning.

Dick nodded encouragingly. "I know it sounds scary, but it's really not. I'm down here all the time, right?"

Tim looked up at Clark. "So… no seeing the sheep tomorrow?"

"I can still come get you from here." Clark assured. "If you want to see the sheep, you can still see the sheep."

Tim nodded again.

"Are you nervous?" Bruce asked, handing over another piece of the fish, despite the fact that Timmy hadn't even eaten his last one.

Tim shrugged. "Kinda." He eyed the inlet again suspiciously.

This was something they'd all noticed since he'd started spending more time in the lagoon; he didn't like the ocean.

He didn't like the inlet being open.

And he definitely didn't like swimming outside the lagoon.

They'd never been able to get much of an explanation out of the pup, but none had pressed too hard, given that it seemed a bit obvious.

Outside the lagoon was where his previous life had been.

It was where he'd been abandoned.

But, with one last look around at his family, Timmy nodded and took a bite of his catch. "Okay."

Yyyyy

"Is it bad that I wanted to say 'no'?" Clark hooked Ace's leash to his collar and straightened up.

"Did you?" Ma asked.

Clark shook his head. "No. But I wanted to. I mean, I know he's been recovering. He's been doing great and it's exciting and I couldn't be more proud of him, but…"

"You forgot he'd be moving into the lagoon eventually? And now you're scared because your baby's growing up and you're suddenly realizing that you can't do anything to stop it?" Ma smirked knowingly at him.

"How did you- oh." Clark shook his head. Of course Ma would know. She'd gone through parenthood, after all. "So, what do I do?"

Ma looked off into space for a second, and then finished off the last of her coffee and rose, coming over to pet Ace on the head. "Do you remember your first sleepover?"

Clark thought back. He vaguely remembered that something had happened…

"That was with… Gavin, right? Just up the street? Didn't Magnolia get sick that night?" He asked, referring to one of his father's old prized cows.

Ma smiled again. "Nope."

"Really? I could have sworn it was that night."

"Oh, it was."

"You've lost me."

Ma chuckled. "Your Pa and I tried so long for a baby before we decided to adopt. I guess all the… everything… that led up to us meeting you caused your Pa to become a bit… protective of you. You were so excited for that sleepover, though, that he couldn't stop you from going."

"How does this tie into Magnolia getting sick?"

"That was the first time you'd slept anywhere but at home. It was hard to wrap my head around the fact that I knew you weren't home safe in bed, but I still had to find a way to sleep. Jonathan, though? He couldn't do that. Not a chance. He couldn't sleep. Couldn't even lay down an try. He ended up staying awake all night just in case there was a phone call that you needed anything. Of course, the next morning he looked like hell and didn't want to upset you, so he told you he'd been up all night with Maggie."

Clark shook his head in disbelief. "So, you're saying it's a good thing I'm going to you for advice rather than him?"

"I'm saying that's a very good thing." Ma confirmed.

"Can you tell me what to do, then?"

"Worry. Go over every possible thing that could happen. Lose sleep."

"Okay, let me rephrase that. What *should* I do?"

Ma shrugged. "Whatever feels right. That's part of being a parent. I had no way of knowing that your first sleepover would go well, but I chose to trust that Gavin's family knew what they were doing and would be able to keep you safe. Your Pa needed to know that, in case something did happen, he'd have been there in a second. You've got your own parenting instincts now, use them."

Yyyyy

"Ah, ah. What's the rule, Timmy?" Clark asked, holding up a hand to stop the curious pup.

"Dry hands. Dry hands." Timmy turned and patted his hands dry on a nearby towel before reaching back for the new toy Clark had just shown him. He wasn't allowed to touch anything electrical or battery powered with wet hands, but being aquatic didn't exactly stop him from taking an interest into them.

Clark handed him a gray walkie talkie, hurriedly purchased from the supermarket thanks to his 'parental instincts'.

Admittedly, he felt a bit silly, given that Timmy would still be on the property, and with the rest of his family, at that.

But he didn't care.

He'd rather be a bit overprotective and back off later, than take any kind of risk with Timmy's life.

"This is a walkie talkie. I'm going to leave this one on the boat, and if anything happens, all you have to do is press this button here, and you can talk directly to me. Okay?"

Timmy nodded, furrowing his brow and pressing the button with both thumbs. He the turned it over and over, examining the entire device.

"You have to turn it on first, sweetheart." Clark took it from him and showed him how to do so.

"I can… talk to you? With this?"

"Yes. Do you think this will make you feel better about staying down here?" Clark desperately wished that he could just keep Timmy up in the pond forever and ever, but he knew that wasn't what was best for him.

He was a mer, and they belonged in the ocean.

It would be the equivalent of keeping his human child locked in their bedroom at all times. Would he be safe?

Sure.

From most things.

But… that was no way to live.

So, as much as every fiber of Clark's being protested, he knew he had to give Timmy this push.

He had to make sure he felt safe in the lagoon.

He had to trust that Bruce and Dick wouldn't let anything happen to Timmy.

But, he also needed to know that he could be there in a second should anything happen.

"Here. How about we play with them for a bit, so you can get used to how they work?" Clark ruffled Tim's hair, feeling a little better at the pup's smile.

"Okay. Thank you, Dad."

Chapter Text

*Are you 'wake?*

Clark blinked in the darkness, the walkie talkie crackling to life waking him and making him jump.

*H- hello?*

"Timmy? What's the matter, buddy? Are you okay?" Clark had apparently fallen asleep with the device in his hand.

*It's loud down here.*

Clark let his head fall back to his pillow. "Yeah. I know buddy. Does Bruce know you're up?"

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

"Timmy."

*No.*

"Timmy, it's bedtime. Go back to Bruce, okay? I'll see you in the morning."

Timmy went silent again, but Clark didn't have time to finish counting before another, deeper voice came through the walkie talkie, apparently having noticed the pup was missing.

*Goodnight, Clark.*

"Goodnight, Bruce."

*Night, Dad.*

"Goodnight, Timmy. Go to sleep."

Yyyyy

Clark walked down to the lagoon with his travel mug in one hand and Tim's blanket over his other shoulder. The sky was gray, and there was a chill in the air, but that hadn't stopped him and Timmy from doing morning chores together before.

He'd somewhat expected Timmy to be waiting for him at the dock, but all three of them were there.

"Hey. Is everything okay?"

Timmy was curled up on Bruce, arms around his neck and face buried in his shoulder. But as soon as he heard Clark, he detangled himself and swam over to the dock, reaching up and silently opening and closing his hands.

Clark picked him up out of the water and the pup resumed the same position as he'd been in in Bruce's arms.

Clark held him and rubbed his back, sitting down to talk with Bruce and Dick.

"What happened?"

"He had a nightmare. We're not sure what about." Bruce spoke softly, face concerned.

Clark sighed and started wrapping the blanket around Timmy, making sure he'd be secure where he was. Typically he rode on Clark's back, but Clark didn't feel like disrupting him at the moment.

Timmy had suffered from horrible nightmares when they'd first brought him home, but as he got more comfortable, they lessened.

Unfortunately, it seemed like the stress of his first night in the lagoon had triggered another one.

"I'll see if getting him back into his typical routine will help any." Clark finished with the blanket and stood, one arm around Timmy, and his other picking his coffee back up.

Yyyyy

An hour later, Timmy still hadn't said a word. He'd barely even budged, causing Clark to slip back into his old habit of just talking out loud to Timmy as they went along.

Clark pulled Ace's leash, saving a curious squirrel, and told Timmy a story about how he'd found a squirrel stuck in the fireplace once. It had been fine, but had also made a huge racket. Ma had been the one to finally get it outside.

He hauled food out to the cows, reminiscing about the time he'd tried to ride one as a kid because he'd seen someone on TV ride a cow like it was a horse. He'd been bucked off.

He noticed the electric fence had switched itself off again and got to fixing it, telling Timmy about the time he and a bunch of other boys in town had dared each other to… uh…

"Well- okay, look. The moral of the story is; if someone dares you to pee on something, that should be your cue to NOT pee on it. And, as for the rest of the story, I think we'll wait till you're a bit older, actually."

Timmy shifted, curling marginally closer to Clark.

As this was the first reaction Clark had gotten out of him yet, he paused putting his tools back in his toolbox and brought up a hand to rub the back of Timmy's head.

"Do you think you want to talk? Or are we going to have a quiet day today?" He asked gently.

Timmy offered no response.

Clark ran his fingers through Timmy's hair as he got back to work. He carried his toolbox back to the barn where it was stored. Before he could leave the building, though, he felt Timmy pull his arms from around his neck.

The pup pulled them to his own chest and snuggled deeper into the blanket.

Now that Clark was able to see this face, he was able to see that Timmy had bags under his eyes. He really hadn't slept well.

"You can go to sleep now if you want." Clark fixed the blanket a bit.

Tim didn't seem to be falling asleep, though.

He seemed to be lost in his thoughts.

Clark took one of his hands and held it, getting back to work.

"Are you…"

Clark paused. The voice was so small he wasn't sure he'd even really heard it.

"Am I what, buddy?"

"Gonna send me away, too?"

"What?"

"Dickie says he's gonna be migrating."

Clark stopped and sat down on a bale of hay, gently taking and holding both of Timmy's hands.

"Timmy, buddy, listen to me. You and Dickie? You two are very different. There are things he does that you can't, just like there are things you do that he can't."

Timmy stayed silent, absently playing with Clark's hands.

"Can you look at me?"

Timmy hesitantly lifted his eyes to meet Clark's.

Clark rubbed the backs of Timmy's hands with his thumbs. "I want to make sure you understand, alright? You never, ever have to migrate again. Ever. Okay?"

Tim nodded and looked back at the hands, but didn't look remotely convinced.

"You should never have been forced to migrate in the first place."

Thinking back on the state Timmy had been in when they'd found him, Clark felt his blood boil.

"Then why's Dickie gotta go?"

"Because he's built for it. His family has been migratory his whole life, so it's all he's ever known. Staying in one place all year? That's unnatural to him. But… something happened when he was younger. And now he lives with us. And since we don't migrate, he's had to adapt to a whole new life. But there's a pod we're friends with who offered to start taking him along for the last leg of their journey."

"He's coming back?"

"He's coming back."

Timmy was silent for a minute longer, but Clark could see that he had something else on his mind.

"Is my… is my pod coming back?"

Clark was about to respond 'no,' when he caught himself.

He had no way of knowing if they'd be returning.

Would they?

What would he do if Timmy's pod returned and discovered he was still alive?

Would they want him back?

Would Timmy want to go back?

What if they had been forced to leave him behind, like Dickie had suggested?

After all, a shellfish allergy in a pup was incredibly rare, and with a lack of doctors during a migration, they would have had no way of knowing what was making him so sick.

But then other things occured to Clark.

Little things, like Timmy's general mood, personality, reactions to nearly every stressor, and the fact that he'd spent months completely silent.

He'd gotten so used to seeing them as just part of Timmy that he'd almost forgotten those weren't behaviors typically associated with happy pups who had grown up in loving pods.

"I… I don't know, Tim. I don't know."

Timmy looked down at the blanket and pulled one of his hands back from Clark to play with the material.

"I had a dream that they did." Timmy whispered.

"Oh, yeah?"

"You made me go." Timmy fidgeted, voice growing choked. "You said you didn't want me."

Clark could feel his heart breaking. That certainly explained why he'd been so quiet and clingy all morning.

"Timmy, sweetheart, no. No. I promise you, I'll never make you leave. You're my son, and I love you so much. Okay?"

Timmy looked down at his hand in Clark's much larger hand. "Used to be their son, too." He mumbled, splaying out his fingers to try to make his hand as big as Clark's. "They stopped loving me when I got sick."

"Timmy, your biological parents…" Clark had things to say about them.

He had a lot of things to say.

None were nice, and all had been brought about by a year of carefully nursing a very skittish pup back to health.

But those three words killed every insult he'd been about to say in an instant.

'Clark, your biological parents loved you very much. Don't ever doubt that. But… they can't be here right now. So they gave you to us. So you could be part of our family and have parents who love you just as much as they do. You'll see them someday, but for right now, they're somewhere very far away.'

He'd grown up knowing that he'd been loved.

That hadn't been a question for him.

He didn't learn the full story about what happened to his parents until he was older, of course, but Ma's words had helped him through a lot as a kid.

The feelings of… not abandonment but… more like disconnect, that cropped up every now and then.

The comments from other kids, both intentionally insensitive and not.

Timmy… didn't deserve to have that taken from him, no matter how Clark felt about his parents.

And so he carefully wrapped his fingers around his son's hand.

He held him tight to his chest.

He closed his eyes and let go of what he wanted to say.

"Tim. Your parents… I don't know why they left you behind, but they might not have been able to take care of you. They… they might have decided that the best thing they could do for you was… allow another family to have you."

Tim relaxed a little, letting his head sink back against Clark's chest. His free hand was opening and closing again, though it was gradually slowing, like he was growing tired.

Or maybe his big emotions were starting to dissipate.

"Timmy, you're home. No matter where you came from or what happened to bring you here, we love that we've been able to be your family. We love you. And you never have to migrate again."

"... promise..?"

Clark smiled. "Let me show you something." He held open his hand, releasing Timmy's, and held up his pinkie finger. "Can you do this for me?"

Timmy drew his eyebrows together and tilted his head, but raised his pinkie finger as well.

Clark bent his at the knuckle and linked their fingers together. "This is called a 'pinkie promise'. And pinkie promises are never, ever, ever to be broken. Ever. And I pinkie promise you, Timmy. We're your family, and this is your home. And you never have to leave."

Timmy looked up at Clark with wide eyes and squeezed Clark's finger tighter.

Chapter Text

"Tim!" Clark called. "Walk him forwards a bit."

The twelve year old mer jerked his head up, obviously having not been paying attention, and picked up the reins. With a few clicks of his tongue, he guided Robin, the horse pulling his cart, to move forward slowly until Clark had them stop again.

"What are you doing up there?" Clark asked, hopping down from the back of the cart to check on the next fencepost.

Tim hesitated and looked back down at what he'd been doing.

"Well… I…"

"Timmy?"

"Oh, come on."

"You're on my phone again?" Clark smiled knowingly.

"I just needed some pictures. I'm drawing up a diagram of something I want to make." Tim defended.

Clark grabbed his tools and motioned for Tim to make his way to the back of the cart so he could help with the fence.

Tim rolled his eyes, but did as requested. He'd been helping Clark out around the farm for long enough that Ma had made him a thick cover for his tail. It was somewhere in between a welder's tool apron, and a skirt, and Tim loved it.

His tail had been nicked, scraped, bruised, and even stepped on over the years, but when he'd lost a scale the adults had put their heads together to figure out some sort of protection for him. He now wore it whenever he was out of the water.

"What are you planning on making?" Clark asked, taking the pair of wire cutters from Tim as he offered them.

Tim reached over the back of the cart before responding, unlatching the gate and letting it swing down so he could sit and hang his tail off of it.

"A saddle."

That made Clark stop what he was doing.

"A saddle? Like for a horse?"

Tim nodded and pulled Clark's phone out of one of the pockets on his chest and turned the screen on, showing his father the image he'd been looking at.

"It's a side saddle. See? Both their legs are on one side of the horse, which is how I'd have to sit to ride one."

"You… want to ride a horse."

"Yes."

"I… Tim, I'm not saying no," Clark really, really hoped he didn't inherit any kind of hereditary heart issue from his biological parents, because the mental image of Timmy sitting atop a several hundred pound animal was nearly enough to do him in as it was.

"Sounds like you just said no."

"Let me finish. I… how… why don't we talk about this tonight with Bruce?"

"Yup. That's a 'no'."

"I didn't say 'no'. I said we'd talk about it."

"Which means 'no'."

"It's about to mean 'no'." Clark warned, raising an eyebrow.

Tim crossed his arms and sat back, matching Clark's stare. "I'll modify it so it can work for a mer. And it's not like I plan to hop on and just start blindly teaching myself to barrel race."

"Tim, I'm not saying you're not capable. I'm saying I need some time to think this over."

Tim sat back with a huff, but relented.

"Why do you want to learn to ride, anyway? Is it because you see me riding them?"

Tim sank lower against the side of the cart, pouting. "I just want to. And, besides, it will make rounding up the cows and sheep easier."

"I'll tell you what. How about we start you on an ATV? You'll be able to control it with just your hands, it won't spook, you'll be closer to the ground, and I'd feel better about you on an ATV than a horse. We don't know how they'd react to your tail knocking against them."

Tim kept his arms crossed, but shrugged. "Okay. I guess that sounds like a good place to start."

"Good. Hand me the shovel so I can get this post up. It looks like it's starting to rot." Clark motioned for the tool and Tim handed it over.

Clark got to work digging up the post, glancing over at Tim every now and then.

The pup had grown a lot in the five years since they'd first found him. Both physically and confidence-wise.

His tail had also become the most colorful Clark had ever seen. It had remained red up at his waist, but faded to orange and then yellow further down his long fin-tips.

The first time Tim had noticed his scales were changing had resulted in a temporary move back up into the pond, as they had all believed that they were fading again. As nothing had changed about the amount of attention he'd been getting, Leslie had been concerned about the water quality while Alfred had started him on a specially crafted diet in case he'd developed a new allergy.

As more and more scales changed, however, they realized what was happening and he was moved back to the lagoon.

It should have been one of those things that became a story they could look back on and laugh at, but the fact that such a major moment in a young mer's life had been overshadowed by thinking it was yet another medical emergency had just made Tim frustrated.

He'd started looking for more ways to prove that he was just as strong as the rest of his family.

Which, as he tended to push himself beyond his limits, had prompted several talks with his concerned fathers.

After a while, they had decided to let him take on more work around the farm, which he had happily taken to. He still had reservations about swimming beyond the inlet, but helping Clark around the farm? He loved it.

And he was a quick learner, so as soon as they figured out a few work-arounds for his mobility issues, he ended up being very handy as well, figuring out solutions to issues that Clark hadn't even considered.

He'd been the one to find the cart for sale online and had talked Clark into helping him figure out a way to make and save up enough money to get it. Clark had set up a bank account for him and they had set up a fruit stand at the end of the driveway, complete with apples, plums, cherries, blackberries, and eggs from around the farm.

"Here." Clark handed the old fencepost to Tim, who added it to the small pile they'd collected in the cart and handed back a new one.

A few minutes later, Clark had just finished with the post and hopped back on the cart to check on the next one when the walkie talkie crackled to life.

*Clark?*

Tim pulled Robin to a stop so the noise of the cart wouldn't drown out Bruce while Clark hit the button.

"Hey, hon. What's up?"

He released the button and heard a stifled snort of laughter coming from his pup.

"Hon?"

"Look, I may not be an expert on pet names," Clark defended, "but your father sure doesn't seem to be complaining."

The look on Tim's face turned from mocking to shocked and mildly horrified, causing Clark to laugh.

*When you and Tim finish with the fence, could you come down here? Dick wants to have a family discussion.*

Chapter Text

Clark closed the front door and leaned back against it.

'I'm nineteen. And… well, Wally and I have been talking about this for a while.'

Dick was an adult.

Dick… Dick had grown up.

And now..?

Now he was heading off on a full migration.

With Wally.

They'd see him twice a year now.

They'd have no way to know if he was okay.

If he was safe.

If… if there were poachers.

"Clark? Clark, what's the matter?"

Ma.

Clark cleared his throat and shook his head.

He'd held it together until he'd gotten back to the house.

"Is someone hurt?"

He felt Pa's hand on his shoulder.

He shook his head.

"No. No, they're okay. It's just…" Clark shook his head and walked a few steps away, needing space to breathe. "Dickie. He just told us he's moving out. He's going on a full migration with Wally."

"Oh. I see." Ma nodded in understanding.

"I'm proud of him. I am. I just… I forgot to prepare myself."

Yyyyy

Clark didn't sleep well that night, but made his morning coffee extra strong to make up for it.

He also made sure to bring a positive attitude with him when he walked down to the lagoon.

Dick wanted to do this, and they all knew it was coming, but Clark knew it was still a difficult decision for him to make.

He'd been abandoned by his pod, not just once but twice, and the first partial migration he'd done had ended with the loss of yet another family member.

Migrating was what was natural for him, though, and he and Wally were old enough to set out on their own this year.

And so, for Dick's sake, Clark would be happy for him.

He had all year to be scared, he didn't need to give Dick any more reasons to second guess his decision.

"What are you looking at?" Tim asked, curled up on the dock beside him.

Clark hadn't noticed until then just how lost in his own head he'd been, but he had only managed to type a single word into the search bar on his phone.

"Oh, um. I just wanted to check if we needed to get you a license before starting you on the ATV."

He finished typing out his query as Tim asked, "You mean like yours? Why would I need one?"

Clark set his phone to the side and pulled out his wallet, handing his license to Tim. "Well, there are a few reasons. Having one means you've trained enough on the vehicle you're driving that you should know how to be safe on it."

Tim nodded, taking the card and examining it closely.

"It also has my photo and some medical information about me, just in case I'm ever in an accident and have to be taken to the hospital."

"What's the heart mean?" Tim asked, tapping a small, black, heart symbol by Clark's photo. "Does that mean you have some sort of heart issue?"

"No, no. Don't worry. That's just to tell hospital staff that I'm an organ donor." Clark saw the gears turning in Tim's head as he tried to work out what this new phrase was.

"Oh! Is that because when the farm was bigger, you used to sell meat to them?" The pup guessed.

"Ehh, not exactly." He found himself wondering if Tim was old enough for a conversation like this.

"Then what's an organ donor?"

"Well, it's a human medical thing. Basically…" How did he explain this to a pup? "If I die, I won't need my organs anymore, right?"

Tim tilted his head, but still shook it.

"Since I've got a heart on my licence, doctors will know I've given them permission to take what they need from my body so other people can live."

Tim was quiet for a few seconds.

"Timmy? Are you okay? Or just thinking? I know this isn't the most… uh, cheerful conversation."

Tim shook his head. "I was just thinking."

"About what?" Bruce asked, he and Dick swimming up with breakfast.

Tim turned to look at both of them and, with a straight face, asked, "When I die, who gets my organs?"

Bruce froze in place and blinked, trying to process what he'd just been asked. "... What?"

Tim held up Clark's license, but Bruce immediately held up his hand. "Nevermind. I don't want to know."

Dick ducked his head, but otherwise did nothing to hide his laughter.

Yyyyy

Clark lay in bed that night, hands tucked behind his head.

The first migratory pods would start passing through in about two months, and Wally's pod was always one of the last ones. They weren't sure if that was going to remain the case this year or not, but Dick and Wally had already planned to leave at least a full day or two ahead of the rest of the pod.

This way, they'd get to strike out on their own, but would still have the experienced adults behind them should anything happen.

That made him feel a bit better, but he was still worried. Though he supposed that that just came with the territory of being a parent. He'd never not be worried about his kids-

The walkie talkie turned on, transmitted some random noise for a second, and then fell silent again.

In the pitch darkness of his room, that would have been a scary enough sound, considering he and Tim tended to keep the volume maxed out so they could hear it as they worked.

But the fact that nobody had spoken was what got Clark hurrying out of bed.

"Hello?"

Nothing.

"Bruce?"

Maybe an animal had gotten aboard his boat and hit the button? That would explain-,

*-elp!*

His blood ran cold and he ran for the door, completely ignoring the fact that he was still wearing his sweatpants and undershirt, walkie talkie in hand.

"Dick! Dick, what's going on?"

*-on't know. Something's down here with us! We can't find Tim!*

Chapter Text

Clark ran down the hill towards the lagoon as fast as he could. Years later, he'd look back on this night in wonder that he hadn't fallen and broken his neck. But at the moment he didn't have time to think about that.

He could hear water splashing before he was even close enough to make out the dock. He was just able to see Dick's bright blue tail in the darkness, thankfully hauling himself up out of the water. Bruce was already seated by the boat, though he seemed to be struggling against something-

"Let go! Let me go! Get off!" Tim's voice was high, shaky and panicked as Clark's feet hit the dock.

Bruce was under Tim, holding him tight with his arms and his tail so Dick could staunch the…

The blood.

There was blood dripping down Tim's body from several gashes in his shoulder and raked across his chest. He had a dark bruise right below his hairline that was bleeding, and several smaller marks up his arms and covering his torso.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Timmy, please, just calm down. I'm not trying to hurt you." Dick pleaded. He held a towel from Clark's boat in one hand, ready to press to the pup's wounds, but Tim was still struggling to free himself.

Clark reached the three of them at the same time Bruce got a better hold on Tim, pinning him in place firmly enough that Dick was able to get at the deepest of his cuts.

Tim threw his head back against Bruce's chest and screamed, eyes shut tight but still streaming tears.

"Shh. Shh. You're okay. I've got you. You're okay, sweetheart. You're okay. You're safe." Bruce tried his best to calm Tim, but Clark could see he was far too panicked for any of Bruce's words to have an effect.

Clark knelt beside them and held out a hand to Tim, making eye contact with Bruce.

"Clark's here." The mer was audibly struggling to keep his voice calm. "Buddy, dad's here. I'm going to hand you over now, okay?"

Tim was quickly and carefully gathered into Clark's arms, Dick handing over the towel.

The pup had stopped screaming, but that was mainly due to the fact that he didn't appear able to catch his breath. He was gasping for air, chest stuttering every time he choked or sobbed.

Clark brushed his fingers lightly over the welt on Tim's head, wincing in sympathy as the pup yelped and jerked back.

Tim gradually started breathing easier, only to then cling to Clark's chest, shaking and sobbing.

Clark held him, comforting him and trying to keep pressure on his injuries.

"What happened?"

"I don't know." Bruce shook his head, moving so he could check Dick over for any injuries. "We were asleep, and then something just…"

"I didn't see what it was, but I'm pretty sure I felt arms. I think it was a mer. It just grabbed Timmy and took off." Dick took over.

"It was trying to make it out the inlet with him."

Clark held Tim closer, feeling a spike of fear. This time of year, there were only three mers in this stretch of Smallville coast; Bruce, Dick, and Tim.

There had been no signs of any pods in the area, which, as it was way outside of migration season, would have alerted at least the dock workers. And, as the dock workers knew all three local mers, they always made sure to let them know whenever a newcomer showed up.

Which left one explanation; a lone mer.

The thing he had been warned Bruce might be.

What had it wanted with Tim?

Or had it just grabbed the smallest target?

Would it be back?

"Shh!" Dick hissed and sat up straighter.

Bruce and Clark froze and strained their ears, trying to hear what Dick heard over Tim.

"What did you hear?" Clark finally whispered.

Dick frowned deeper, but relaxed his posture slightly and moved closer to Tim. "I think it was one of the damn barn cats. Nevermind."

He shook his head in annoyance and reached out to pet Tim, only to jerk his hand back as Tim screamed again and pressed himself as tightly to Clark's chest as he could get.

"Okay, okay. It's just Dick, Timmy. It's just Dick. He just wants to be sure you're okay." Clark tried to soothe, but Tim was frantic and getting close to another panic attack.

He hadn't had one in over six months.

"I think you should get him up to the pond." Bruce suggested.

Clark didn't disagree, but hesitated. "Are you sure it's gone? What if it comes back?"

Bruce narrowed his eyes and flared his fins, stretching his dorsal fin. "I won't let it get away again."

Clark almost felt a chill down his spine as he took in the dark, threatening figure in front of him. Bruce's scales made him nearly invisible in the dark night, save for the speckles, making him look like a cluster of small animals rather than one big one, but his blue eyes locked on Clark and he was suddenly very aware of the fact that mers were predators.

If their attacker came back, Bruce wasn't kidding when he said he wouldn't let it leave.

No.

He and Dick would kill it on sight.

Chapter Text

Tim didn't sleep that night.

He didn't even go in the water.

He just clung to Clark like he was scared his attacker had followed them up to the pond.

The next morning wasn't much different.

The tide was in again, opening the inlet, but Bruce and Dick were on guard.

Unfortunately, that didn't do much to assuage Tim's fears.

So he stayed on the dock.

With Clark.

Where he was safe.

"Hey, Clark?" Dick swam up and braced his arms against the dock, holding himself out of the water. "I think something's wrong with one of your cats."

Clark automatically turned to look back up towards the house, not seeing any animals in any kind of distress.

"What are you talking about?"

Dick nodded towards the trees on one side of the lagoon, where they kept the water heaters. "I've been hearing it off and on all night, but it goes quiet whenever I try and look for it."

Clark frowned and looked down at Timmy.

He'd bandaged his pup's injuries himself, as Tim hadn't wanted to go to the clinic, but Clark had only agreed on the condition that, at the first sign of declining health, Tim would be taken in for an exam by professionals.

"Tim, hey." He ran his hand down Tim's back, watching as he lifted his head and blinked tiredly.

"Hmn? Wassit?"

"Dickie thinks one of the cats might be in trouble. Do you want to come help me find it? Or would you rather stay here-,"

"I'll help with the cat." Tim grunted, pushing himself up from where he's been lying against Clark's leg and yawned widely. He then moved behind his father, hugged his shoulders and wrapped his tail securely around Clark's waist.

Clark stood up, leaning on his knee to help counterbalance the added weight of his son. Tim may have outgrown his blanket, but a lack of legs still meant he needed to be carried when they were on land.

The exception being when he was manning the fruit stand, as Ma and Pa had found a wheelchair for him to use on flat ground.

Clark and Tim made their way back up the dock to land and then over towards where Dick had indicated, while Bruce and Dick followed from the water.

"Do you think we should come up with a way to keep the inlet closed at night?" Clark asked Bruce, who set his mouth in a thin line.

"I don't like that idea." He responded after some time.

"You'll feel trapped?" Clark guessed.

"We'll *be* trapped." Bruce corrected. "Sure, if we close the inlet nothing will be able to get in, but what about if something were to come from the land? A bear, perhaps? We'll have no chance."

Clark nodded grimly. That was a good point.

"What about… maybe some kind of warning system?"

"Like what?"

Clark opened his mouth to respond, but then closed it again.

Like… a motion detector?

Except it wouldn't work underwater. Even setting it up above the water and pointing it down wouldn't work, since it would just be detecting the water itself.

A string with empty cans set up to knock into each other if someone swam by?

Except the cans wouldn't make adequate noise to alert anyone.

Plus it would only work if someone swam into it, which could very easily lead to getting tangled.

"We could sleep in shifts?" Dick suggested.

Bruce considered it, but still frowned. "I don't like that idea, but we might have to do it."

"Dogs!" Clark exclaimed, coming to a halt. It had been on the tip of his tongue, the ideal solution.

"What?" Bruce pulled to a stop beside him.

"Dogs!" Clark repeated excitedly. "We could get some guard dogs. They could live down here and we can easily train them to bark at anyone they don't recognize. That's what Ma and Pa got Ace for."

"And… they're safe for us to be around?" Bruce asked.

Timmy shifted to see Bruce better. "I play with Ace all the time."

"Hmm. That idea actually sounds-,"

Bruce was cut off by a small noise.

"That's it! That's the cat. Where's it coming from?" Dick held up a hand for silence.

They all stopped and listened intently.

A few minutes later, it came again.

"That's not a cat." Clark, now able to hear what Dick's better hearing had detected, felt ice form in his core. "I hope I'm wrong, but does that sound like a baby to anyone else?"

Bruce and Dick were already swimming ahead, searching around the alcove.

Clark and Timmy did their best to check the shore in case it wasn't in the water, but the blackberry overgrowth made the search difficult.

"Over there!" Tim pointed to a thick, green bush growing over the edge of the water.

Clark stepped closer and something under the bush moved.

"That… that is a baby." Bruce swam up to the bush slowly and ducked down to see under it better. "That is definitely a baby."

They all watched in dumbfounded silence as Bruce reached deep under the bush and carefully withdrew a very small, emerald green-tailed pup.

"Who's baby is this?" Clark wondered aloud.

"Maybe… whoever was here last night?" Bruce ventured. "But why would they leave him?"

The pup blinked up at Bruce, head tilted like he was trying to figure out who this new mer was.

He didn't appear to be too curious or intimidated, though, as he then opened his mouth in a big yawn, rubbed his drooping eyes with his tiny fists and promptly fell asleep.

"Uh, should we call Grandma and Grandpa? Because I don't think any of us know what to do with a baby." Tim looked around at the rest of his family.

"Yeah. You're the youngest pup I've ever taken care of." Clark pulled out his phone, while Dick swam closer to check the pup over.

Bruce expertly moved his tail out in front of himself so the small pup could be comfortable on his chest. "I used to help out with patients when I was young, so I know a bit, but not nearly enough."

"Do… do we think his parents are coming back?" Dick asked, turning towards the inlet.

"The tide's almost out again. They've got maybe ten minutes before we're closed off again. And if they do come back, I've got some…" Bruce forced himself to take a deep breath and let it out very slowly so he didn't wake the baby. "Some… choice words for them."

Chapter Text

"Am I doing this right?" Clark asked, holding the bottle steady so the pup could drink from it.

"Sit him up a little more. Yeah, like that." Bruce guided, seated beside Clark on the dock.

Clark had the little pup wrapped up in a blanket on his lap, swaddled tight to mimic how he'd be carried by members of his pod.

"Did Leslie say anything about how old he is?" Dick asked, poking the bundle with a finger.

The pup took one hand off the bottle to wave it angrily at him.

"She says he's a few months old. Much too young to have been left alone."

"I wonder if his parents meant to leave him." Tim mused. He had already been bitten by the pup and knew to keep his distance, and was therefore behind Clark, leaning over his shoulder. "Maybe they thought the lagoon was empty and just laid him down for a second to check?"

The pup finished the bottle and Clark set it to the side, lifting him to his shoulder and patting his back.

"Should we talk about what's going to happen if his parents never come back?" Dick took the bottle and untwisted the cap, dunking it and rinsing out the milk residue.

"Yes, actually." Bruce took the baby and slipped back into the water, letting the pup curl up 'otter-style' to rest. "Clark and I have already talked it over, but we wanted to make sure to talk to you boys as well."

"Leslie took a blood sample from him to see if they could track down his pod. If we do manage to find them, they're going to face some legal trouble for both attacking Tim and abandoning their pup, but he'll most likely go back to them. If, for whatever reason, we can't find or he can't go back to his pod, well, Bruce and I were thinking about keeping him."

Dick grinned. "I think you should."

Tim frowned. "Hey, what's he waving at-," he broke off with a gasp and pointed.

Partway between the dock and the inlet, hiding in the shadow of a tree, was a large, dark shape.

The pup squealed and babbled in excitement as the shape, realizing it had been spotted, moved.

"Tim, get behind me-," Clark pushed him back, putting himself between his son and the threat.

The threat… that was now in the light.

"His name's Damian."

The threat..?

"J-Jay?" Clark heard Bruce's voice, though it barely registered.

"And you're not going to find his pod."

Clark felt like the ground had just fallen out from under him.

There was…

There was no way this was real.

"They're dead. He's the only survivor."

Jason swam closer.

Jason was older.

Jason had grown older.

Jason…

"Oh, my god." He whispered, feeling tears as they started falling.

Jason was alive.

"I brought him here because- oof!" Jason was cut off with a full-body tackle from Dick, who locked him in a hug.

Bruce, holding the bab- Damian. Holding Damian, in one arm, was right behind Dick.

Clark didn't hesitate to follow them, jumping straight into the water.

"Oh, my god. Jason!" He cried.

All four of them practically smothered the young mer, hugging him tight as if he was a dream they were collectively having, and letting go would mean losing him forever all over again.

Jason looked stunned.

He didn't reciprocate any of the hugs, nor did he try to push them off.

Instead, he froze.

His eyes were wide.

His posture was rigid, the only thing keeping him afloat being his families embraces.

After a minute, he blinked, and his entire demeanor crumbled.

His jaw shook.

Breath wavered, hitched, and then he gasped.

His hands came up to touch, and then desperately clutch, the arms circling his chest.

He bowed his head and completely fell to pieces, sobbing.

"Jay." Bruce pulled away first and clasped his hands to either side of Jason's head, holding him still and just looking at his face. "Jay."

"Where have you been? What happened? We were told you were dead!" Clark kept a firm hold on one of Jason's hands, using his other hand to brush through Jason's hair.

Dick remained wrapped around his brother's torso, hugging him tight.

"You- what?" Jason choked. "You thought..? No! No, I'm not dead! I was…" he trailed off with another sob, closing his eyes and shaking his head.

"Ay!" The baby suddenly squealed, raising his hand high above his head and flapping it, done with being ignored. "Yay, yay!"

"You… you know this pup?" Bruce asked, letting Jason lift Damian for a hug.

"Yeah. He- he's trying to say 'Jay'. It's as close as he can get. But I…" he looked down at the green-scaled baby, smiling shakily down at him for a second. "I- I had to get him out of there. I couldn't let them have him."

"'Them'?" Clark asked.

Jason nodded. "The Al-Gul pod. The poachers who caught me? They kept talking about how much I was going to go for when they sold me. I was so scared. I just knew they were going to kill me. But then they threw me overboard to keep the cops from finding me. Talia, from the Al-Gul pod, found me and her pod took me in."

Jason raised his head and grabbed Damian's hand as the pup tried to excitedly whack him in the face.

"You had a pod? Did they take care of you?" Clark asked.

Jason closed his eyes and shook his head. "They weren't like you guys. Or my mom. They weren't a family. They were an army. They collected mers who had issues with humans and trained us to-,"

Jason broke off and hugged Damian tightly. "A few weeks ago they found Damian. His pod had been wiped out, and he'd been captured. Talia saved him, but then started talking about training him to be some sort of perfect weapon. I couldn't let them do that to him. He's too young to remember his pod. He wouldn't have ever remembered being loved. An- and I remembered what you said to me."

Jason was crying again, suddenly looking like a lost little kid again, scared and silently begging his parents to tell him he's made the right decision. That he'd done the right thing.

"You said that 'every pup deserves a pod', and I just… I just grabbed him. That night. I- I snuck into his room and I grabbed him and took off. I didn't know where I was going. I just… had to get us away. We… we just started swimming and didn't stop. I kept telling him we'd find someplace safe one day. An- and then stuff started looking familiar again."

He held Damian tightly with one arm and reached out to hug Bruce, who was closest, with his other hand.

"I never thought I'd see you guys again. I never thought I'd be here again."

Clark drew him in for another hug, feeling the euphoria of having his son safe in his arms once again.

He felt Jason relax into the embrace, only to stiffen slightly.

"Jay?" Clark pulled back to see what was wrong and saw that Jason was staring at something behind him.

Clark turned and felt his stomach drop.

Tim.

He was staring at them with wide-eyed horror.

And Clark knew why.

To them, this was their son and brother, who they all thought had been tragically murdered years ago.

But to Tim?

He'd never known Jason.

He'd only known his attacker.

Clark swam back to the dock, climbing up the ladder, but Tim was quick to back away with a frightened, confused whimper.

"Tim. Timmy, it's okay. Come here. Come here, sweetheart."

Tim, using his tail and arms, just kept scooting backwards, trying to distance himself from Clark.

He quickly ran out of dock and ended up on the shore.

"Timmy. You're okay. Hey, i- it's me. Please."

Timmy whimpered again, shaking his head, tears running down his cheeks.

Clark, hands raised to show he meant no harm, crept closer. "I'm not going to hurt you. I'm not going to hurt you."

Timmy backed into the bushes and his eyes went wide with fear.

Clark took a step closer, and Tim flattened himself to the ground, flared his fins and growled lowly.

Chapter Text

The boathouse door was opened out to the rest of the pond, and Clark could just make out the red, orange, and yellow of Tim's tail on the other side.

He sat on the hard, wooden floor, sleeping bag still rolled up beside him.

It had been a struggle getting Tim back up to the pond, and as soon as they'd reached the water, Tim had dropped down from Clark's hold and swam off.

He hadn't said a word all day, and, now that the sun was setting, it appeared that he was planning on keeping it up all night.

Clark had tried walking around the pond a few times to talk to Tim, but every time he did the pup would just dive down to the bottom and wait there until Clark gave up.

He needed his bandages changed.

He needed to eat.

He needed to not spend the whole night curled up amongst boulders on the far side of the pond.

But he was scared.

And so Clark had to wait until he calmed down.

He'd done it before.

Waited for Timmy.

Because, over the past few years, there hadn't been much that hadn't scared him.

This time felt different, though.

Sure, Clark had spooked him before.

But that had been years ago.

He knew Clark now.

But… he didn't know Jason.

All he knew was that someone had attacked him in the middle of the night. Somewhere he should have been safe.

Most likely the same someone who had left a baby behind.

And, when that someone revealed themselves, he'd seen his family fawn over them.

*Clark? How is he?*

Clark picked up the walkie talkie. "He hasn't moved. How's Jason?"

*We've got him and Damian settling in. I've actually got him right here. He wants to talk to you.*

There were some noises and half words that came through for a few seconds as Bruce taught Jason how to use a walkie talkie, and then it went quiet.

Clark could almost see Jason, down on the dock, trying to come up with what to say.

It had been so long for them all, and, despite the fact that they were back together again, they all knew it wouldn't be the same.

It wasn't the same.

They weren't the same.

*Clark?*

"Hey, buddy."

*Hey. Hi. These, um, these things would have been handy to have back when I was a kid, huh?*

He was referring to the walkie talkies, and Clark could hear the weak attempt at humor, but all he could think to say was,

"You're still a kid."

There was no response to that, which nearly broke Clark's heart all over again.

Jason didn't want to argue, but they both knew he didn't believe it himself.

He'd had to grow up way too fast too many times to have had the chance to actually be a kid.

First in taking care of his dying mother, and then himself.

Clark and Bruce had promised to protect him, only to fail.

They'd let him down and he'd had to make do with a new pod.

One that hadn't provided any level of comfort or familial care.

One that was scary enough he'd made the decision to steal and raise a baby just to keep Damian safe from them.

He'd decided to raise a baby on his own.

With no home.

No pod.

No family.

No help.

At fourteen.

Because Jason was fourteen.

The bravest thing Clark had done at fourteen was return a severely overdue library book.

"How long were you and Damian on your own?"

*It was hard to keep track, but… I think it's been… four or five weeks?*

Clark closed his eyes.

Four or five weeks.

How on earth..?

"You… you did good, Jason." He said. "You kept him safe. I don't know how you did it, but the doctor says he's healthy and happy. You did a good job."

His tail was still a bright emerald green, not faded at all.

He was skinny but not underweight.

And he was very obviously excited to see Jason again.

*I couldn't let them have him. I couldn't let them do to him what they did to…*

Jason trailed off, but Clark could hear the last word he'd been about to say.

He didn't want to know.

But he needed to ask.

"What did they do to you, Jason?"

*They wanted me to hate you. To them, humans are the enemy. All- all of you.*

Clark listened in silence, watching the sun vanish below the horizon, taking with it the light he'd been using to keep an eye on Timmy.

*The- the pollution in the ocean. Food scarcity. Boats. Poachers.*

Jason hadn't been safe.

He hadn't been happy.

He hadn't been cared for.

He hadn't been loved.

*They wanted everyone to hate humans. Because all humans are the same. You- you're all equally to blame. That's… that's what they believe. What they wanted me to believe.*

'There. I returned your dumb old cup. I'm not a thief.'

Someone had looked at the same little pup who used to sneak into their lagoon to trade for food so he didn't have to steal any, and seen a soldier.

A means to an end.

A weapon.

*But… you know me. I've got an attitude and don't like being yanked around. I… I knew that not all humans were like that. You weren't like that.*

'What am I supposed to do? Swim up to a random pod and say 'Hey! You look nice. Want to adopt me?''

All he'd wanted was a home.

And he'd been denied even that time and time again.

*Talia eventually got sick of me talking back so much.*

Jason spoke softly.

Not at all like the hyper, excitable, pup they'd known five years ago.

"What did she do?"

It had only been five years.

Hardly any time at all.

And yet, it felt like a lifetime.

So many things had happened.

Both to Jason, and to the rest of the pod.

*She said she found you. That if I believed so strongly that you were different from other people, then she would just give me back.*

"She… what? We never-,"

*Yeah. Yeah, I know. I figured that out earlier when I swam up and you all freaked out.*

She had played mind games with him.

A child.

His child.

*She took me to a nearby harbor and said you were on your way to come get me.*

"Oh, no. Oh, Jason. I'm… I'm so sorry."

*I waited for a week. There weren't any other mers, and the people who worked there had only ever interacted with the mers from Talia's pod, so they weren't friendly. I… I eventually went back. To her.*

"I'm so sorry."

Jason was silent for a bit, and Clark closed his eyes to just listen to the surrounding night noises.

Bats were starting to fly around, feeding on bugs.

The wind blew small waves across the surface of the pond, lapping softly against the interior of the still-open boathouse.

He sat there and listened, needing something to ground himself.

*She told me you… replaced me.*

No.

*I never believed her. But…*

Timmy.

*I spent years telling her she was a liar. When I found the lagoon again, I couldn't believe it. I… I was home. After all this time. I left Damian with the water heaters and went to wake up Bruce and Dick.*

"And that's when you saw Timmy." Clark finished for him.

*I'm sorry. I know it doesn't make up for what I did, but I really am. I saw him, sleeping in my spot, and… and suddenly everything Talia had ever told me was true. The only reason I came back was because Bruce chased me off before I could get Damian.*

They nearly lost him all over again.

And they would have never even known.

"Jason, Timmy's not your replacement. He's as much our son as you still are."

*That's what Bruce said as well. He needed a pod. Someone to look out for him. Like… like I did. When you found me.*

The night was too dark for Clark to see any trace of Timmy anymore.

"We always made sure he knew he would have had two older brothers."

*Do you think there's still a chance?*

"What, to be his brother?"

*Yeah. I understand if not. I get it. But I… I feel terrible about what I did. I know it's no excuse, but I was just… confused. Angry. Scared, really. That she'd been right.*

There was movement at the door.

A small head lifted out of the water slightly, just enough to make wary eye contact with Clark.

"It'll take time. And work."

Timmy swam into the boathouse and closed the doors.

"But yeah. I think you've got a chance."

Chapter Text

Tim stared out the window of Clark's truck. He'd traded in his car a few years ago for something that made life a little easier, and now he and Timmy were heading down to the closest animal shelter to take a look at a puppy.

His online bio made him seem like a great fit for a guard dog, but they still needed to meet him before anything concrete was decided.

Unfortunately, despite choosing a dog from the nearest shelter, they were still in for a long drive.

It would be an hour and a half each way, and that was if they didn't hit traffic.

This would've been a problem years ago, but with Timmy preferring to spend so much time out of the water, they'd had to come up with solutions to make sure his tail didn't dry out.

Now the length of the drive was more of an annoyance than a health hazard.

Anytime they went anywhere in the truck, Clark would bring a cooler filled with water from the pond and a few towels.

Whenever Timmy felt like he needed water, they could pull over and he'd be able to just sit in the bed of the truck, tail wrapped in soaked towels for twenty or so minutes.

They'd also installed a seat cover so Timmy wouldn't damage the interior with either saltwater or the spines in his fins, and had his wheelchair stowed away securely in the bed.

"Do you have any name ideas for the puppy?" Clark asked.

Tim, chin in the palm of his hand, elbow on the door, just stared blankly out the window. "How about 'Distraction'?"

Clark frowned. "Tim-,"

"I know, I know. I'm sorry."

Clark took his eyes off the road to glance over at his passenger.

"What's on your mind?"

Tim sighed and closed his eyes, shaking his head.

"Tim?"

"Nothing. I'm fine." He mumbled.

Clark spotted a rundown, obviously abandoned convenience store up ahead and flicked on his turn signal, pulling into the parking lot.

"Dad." Tim whined.

"We've got time before we're scheduled to meet the dog. Come on. Look at me. What's going on?"

Tim kept staring out the window, turning his head and pretending he was really interested in the damage time had done to the old building.

"Tim. I'm serious. What's wrong?"

Tim sighed and crossed his arms, sinking back in his seat.

"I don't know."

"Is it Jason?"

Tim didn't reply.

He just let his head thump lightly against the window.

"I just… I just don't know what I'm supposed to feel. I mean, I'm glad he's alive. You all have told me all about him since I moved in, and I know how much he means to you."

Clark watched as Tim paused to let out a breath, closing his eyes and tapping each one of his fingertips methodically to calm himself.

"I don't like him. And, I know he had his reasons for doing what he did-,"

"But that doesn't make it right. He knows that. He knows he shouldn't have hurt you."

"I know." Tim whispered. "But… and, I know this is gonna make me sound like a bad person, but you guys were the ones who knew him. He's *your* son. He's Dick's brother. He's… to me he's just someone I've heard stories about. I *get* that he's someone my family loves, but I don't have that connection to him. My only interaction with him was…" Tim reached up and felt his still banged shoulder.

As they were in public and not at the lagoon, Tim was wearing a red t-shirt, but Clark could still see the bandages that poked out above the neckline, along with the ones that had been wrapped around his arms.

"Do you think you'd feel safer moving back up to the pond for a while?"

Tim licked his lips and nodded slightly. "Yeah."

Clark turned to face Tim more and took his hand. "Buddy, listen to me. I know this isn't easy for you. We all know that, and we won't force you two to interact until you're more comfortable with each other. This is going to be a big adjustment for all of us, and we don't want to push you, okay?"

Tim nodded mutely.

"I'll tell you what. Tonight, whether we get the dog or not, why don't I take you down and we can all have dinner together? You can stay on the dock with me, and if you need to leave, we can try again another day. What do you think? Would you like to at least give it a shot?"

Tim looked down at his hands, opened and closed them a few times, and then nodded.

"Okay. I can try."

"Thank you, buddy."

Chapter Text

"The shelter says we can come back to pick up Titus in a few days." Clark sat cross-legged on the dock, bottle-feeding Damian.

They had decided that a full on family dinner might be a bit much for Tim and Jason's introduction, so Bruce and Dick had gone out for a swim, while Clark stayed behind with the baby to keep an eye on the boys.

The hope was that they'd be able to interact easier with each other with less family around.

"So we're still getting a dog?" Jason asked, sitting at the end of the dock, tail hanging off and into the water.

"If you can get in, so can others." Jason hadn't wanted to be the only one in the water, so Tim had compromised by getting up on the boat.

"Hey, I'm not complaining." Jason shrugged. "It's cool we're getting a pet."

"We live on a farm."

"Yeah. And… most mers live in the water. You're the only one of us who gets to interact with the animals."

Tim blinked, and looked away when he realized he didn't have a comeback.

"Why don't you, by the way?"

Clark watched silently, letting them find their own boundaries, but still there in case they needed someone to step in.

Tim shrugged. "I… had a lot of issues when I was younger. I was sick. I… didn't speak. I couldn't swim, so being in the lagoon was dangerous. So I lived in the pond up by the house. Dad carried me around while he worked to keep an eye on me, and so I got to help out with the animals."

"You couldn't speak? Man. How bad off were you that you-,"

"I- I could. I just… didn't. It's hard to explain, but I was, well," Tim blushed in embarrassment as he fumbled for an answer, but before Clark could decide if he should step in, Jason did.

"Stressed and scared?"

Tim narrowed his eyes slightly, not sure if he was being helped or mocked, but then nodded.

Jason acted like he hadn't noticed Tim's weariness and picked a bone out of the chunk of salmon in his hands, flicking it into the water.

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"How did you know?"

Jason shrugged, and Clark noticed he looked far away. "Let's just say, they taught me things that weren't… great. They were effective, but not great."

Jason's scales had all turned a deep brown, almost black, save for his fintips, which were white.

He'd put on muscle, but also taken on a lot of scars.

His tailfin had a small, healed, hole through it, and, now that Clark was paying more attention, he was able to see that Jason's left wrist didn't seem to rotate as easily as his right.

What had they done to him?

What had they made him do to others?

"So." Jason cleared his throat, obviously trying to change the subject. "What did they call you back then? Cause I'm assuming Clark here wasn't too keen on just saying 'hey, you' whenever he wanted to get your attention."

"They called me 'Tim'." Tim informed him, taking a nibble from his chunk of salmon.

Jason raised an eyebrow. "You couldn't talk, but you were able to introduce yourself? Oh, wait! Do you mean you used sign language?"

Tim chewed the small bit of fish slowly, like he was trying to delay responding, but finally shook his head.

"No. I don't know sign. They weren't sure if I'd ever be able to speak, so Clark and Bruce named me Tim."

Jason glanced over at Clark, who was now adjusting Damian so he'd be comfortable in the blanket sling he had tied around his chest. The little pup yawned widely and snuggled closer to the human's warmth as he drifted off to sleep.

"And… now that you *can* speak? Or do you just like this name better?"

Clark looked up at Tim, wondering the same. Tim had always brushed off their questions about his old name, and they hadn't pressured him too much, but he was still curious.

Tim took a breath and looked at his hands. "My old name… isn't who I am anymore. I'm Tim, now. I don't want or need the reminder of who I used to be. I'd rather just be Tim."

Jason nodded slowly. "I can understand that. I get it. Sometimes you just need to move on. Start over."

Clark couldn't help but wonder, was that what Jason had done after he'd been taken from them?

Or was that what he was doing now?

Yyyyy

"Let's see." Clark sorted through the shopping cart. "We've got food. Food and water bowls. Collar. Tags will be mailed to the house. Life jacket for dogs, which is a thing. Apparently. Toys. Treats. Dog bed. Can you think of anything else we need?"

Tim blinked and froze, goofy grin on his face. "Uh, I wasn't listening."

On his lap, Titus was still wriggling all around, licking anything he could and pawing at Tim to pet him.

"I feel like we're missing something, but we've also got plenty of animal equipment at home. Is there anything else you can think of before we leave?"

Tim looked down at their new puppy. "Do we have better leashes at home?"

"Yeah, don't worry. This isn't going to be his permanent leash. They just gave it to us because I forgot one at the house."

Tim nodded, thinking. "I think we have everything that we need."

Clark knelt to pet the puppy. "Yeah. And I can always just drive back down here. You ready to head home?"

Tim nodded and turned his wheelchair around, heading for the front of the store.

Clark followed with the cart, stopping only to snatch a small laser pointer from a rack and toss it in.

Before they got to the registers, though, Tim got distracted by something up an aisle.

"What's up? Did you see something else we need?"

Tim frowned and bit his lip, but looked up at Clark. "I've still got some money left from buying the cart, right?"

"Yes, you do. Why?"

Clark followed Tim and Titus down the aisle, noting that it was just books.

Animal stories, both fiction and non-fiction were on one side, while information books were on the other.

Tim reached up and selected one from the section made for mers. These were made from recycled plastic, both so it could be read in the water without damaging it, and also to help clean at least some waste out of the ocean.

"Jason. He likes animals."

"You want to get Jason a gift?"

Tim looked hesitant. "Look, I haven't forgiven him for what he did. I don't know if I ever will. And I know I'm never going to forget." He turned the book over to read the back of it. "But… he's going to be living with us now. So I should at least try to get along with him. And besides, it's not like I don't know what it's like, being used and screwed over by the people who are supposed to be taking care of you. We're not… 'good'. Not yet. Maybe not ever. But he's… he's a kid. I can understand why he did what he did. If I was told for years that you'd ditched and replaced me, I'd probably… do some not great things as well."

Clark knelt down on one knee and held out his hand for the book. "I'm proud of you, Timmy. I don't think I'd have had the courage to look at it that way, back when I was your age."

Tim looked away, towards another book. He reached out and grabbed it, and it occurred to Clark that he was probably less interested in the book than he was just keeping his hands busy.

"Well, I've been thinking of him as the big brother I never got to meet for the past few years. I guess… I kind of still want to know him. I don't know. It's… it's confusing and frustrating."

"Well," Clark gestured to the shelves. "Why don't we pick out a book or two for him, and we'll go from there. One step at a time."

"Okay. One step at a time."

Chapter Text

Clark sipped his coffee, trying to chase away the last, lingering bits of sleep still clinging to him.

He blinked against the bright rays lighting them, the sunrise painting the clouds red and pink against the already blue sky.

He absently popped the top back into place on his travel mug, spacing off until he noticed just how close Bruce was.

Bruce kissed him and chuckled.

Clark couldn't resist grinning and leaning in for another kiss. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing. Just trying to help you wake up."

Clark wrapped his arm around Bruce's waist, and Bruce scooted closer to lean his head against Clark's shoulder.

"And who says I'm not awake?"

"Oh, you don't want my help? Fine. I take my kiss back." The mer teased, pulling back just slightly from the embrace.

"Hey, now. I never said that."

"No, it's too late. I already took it back." Bruce crossed his arms and turned away, pretending to be insulted.

"You can't take it back." Clark set his mug aside and hugged Bruce, pulling him back into his chest. "It's mine."

"It was. You didn't want it." Bruce let himself fall back into his boyfriend. "Now it's mine again."

"Well then, I'm taking it back." Clark kissed his neck, both of them laughing.

Bruce looked up at him from where his head was resting against Clark's shoulder and ran a hand through the human's hair.

He smiled happily, and then chuckled in contentment and sank back into Clark's chest.

"What?" Clark asked, adjusting himself so he was leaning against the nearby dock support beam, letting Bruce lay against him comfortably, torso and tail extending past Clark's legs and hanging off the end of the dock. He wrapped his arms around Bruce's chest, just holding him.

"I was just thinking." Bruce kept one hand on Clark's head, holding his face tenderly, and resting his other hand on top of Clarks'.

"About what?"

"I love you."

Clark bent his head and kissed Bruce's temple. "I love you, too, sweetheart."

Bruce flicked his tail, letting it wave gently in the air above the water's surface.

"Growing up, I never envisioned this life for myself. I just… accepted that I'd always be alone. And I always thought I was fine with that." He pressed a kiss to Clark's jaw, not wanting to move from his place, and rubbed his thumb over Clark's cheek. "How did you manage to change my mind so completely?"

Clark smiled and bumped his forehead against Bruce's head. "You're the one who showed up in the lagoon. At sunset. How could I not fall for you?"

Bruce grinned slyly and turned his head, kissing Clark's cheek again. "Don't you lie. You just liked that I chased off those geese."

"Well, that was a bonus. I won't deny that." Clark rested his chin on top of Bruce's head, both of them watching the sunrise. "You know, if it weren't for you, of still be living in a studio apartment in the city. Work was… about all I ever did. I mean, Lois, Jimmy, and I would hang out after work and all that, but… I don't think I ever even told anyone I was gay. Not because I thought they would have anything against it, I just… romance wasn't in the cards for me."

"Really?"

"Yeah. It wasn't something I ever… really pursued."

Bruce let his hand lower to rest back against Clark's chest. "And now?"

Clark interlocked their fingers together. "Now? My boyfriend of several years, with whom I have raised four sons, is asking me if I think romance is in the cards for me?"

"Mm, yeah." Bruce moved Clark's hands, fingers still laced together, so that Clark was hugging him. "You can say all you want that romance wasn't something you ever pursued, but you're sure romantic with me."

Clark held Bruce tighter, feeling so at home cuddling with him.

"You've changed my life in a way I never thought possible. Meeting you was the single best thing that's ever happened to me. You… you are the one who showed me that a family was something I actually wanted. Something that I could have."

He lowered his head again to press his lips to Bruce's shoulder.

"I was never comfortable being out about my sexuality. I never knew what it was about you that made me… want to show you all of me. All of… the real me."

He raised his head slightly and kissed Bruce's neck. "But you know what? I think I figured it out."

"Yeah?" Bruce curled peacefully into him.

"Yeah. You made me love you, more than I feared the world."

Bruce smiled at him, and freed one of his hands, reaching up to the back of Clark's head, running his fingers through his hair as they kissed each other, relishing the early morning stillness and just being together.

The boys would wake up soon.

The animals would need to be fed and taken care of.

Emails needed to be returned and articles written.

But not now.

Now, it was just them.

And that was perfect.

That was peaceful.

The sunrise was just for them.

"I love you, too, Clark Kent."

Chapter Text

"Jason? Hey, buddy. I'm coming closer. Is that okay?"

Jason swallowed and closed his eyes, trying to get his breathing under control.

As it was, Clark could see the rapid rise and fall of his tense shoulders.

The young mer had been back home for over a year and, while a significant amount of progress had been made helping him through what had happened to him, there were still bad days.

And bad nights, like right then.

"Don't… don't touch me. Please. Just… just stay back. Please."

"Okay, Jay. I'm staying back here. Can you do something for me?"

Jason, seated at the end of the dock that met the land, clenched his trembling jaw tight and moved so that his tail was in front of him. He hugged it to his chest.

"Hey, listen to me. Close your eyes."

"No."

"Trust me? Please?"

Jason closed his eyes.

And then immediately opened them and looked around, glancing at Clark only briefly.

"You're safe. It's just me here. You're safe, Jay."

Jason scanned the water again, but then closed his eyes.

"Good. That's good, Jason. Now tell me, what flowers are growing over by the trees?"

"They're… they're purple."

"That's right. Do you remember what they're called?"

Jason nodded. "Thistle. And… and blackberries."

"Good. Good job. Can you smell them?"

"What?"

Clark repeated himself. "Can you smell them?"

Jason, eyes still closed, took a deep breath.

Clark sighed mentally and continued coaching Jason through breathing exercises until he was calm enough to talk.

"Can you tell me what happened?"

Jason let out a breath and seemed to deflate. "I'm sorry. I don't… is Tim okay?"

"Bruce is with him. I don't think you hurt him, just scared him."

"I'm sorry."

"What happened? Another nightmare?"

Jason's jaw shook again and he cleared his throat, scooting closer to Clark and letting the man wrap an arm around him.

"Yeah."

Clark had luckily been camping at the edge of the lagoon when it had happened.

Jason suffered from nightmares, causing him to move and occasionally thrash.

Bruce was usually able to wake up and handle him, but this time he'd struck Tim, who had only moved back down to the lagoon a few months before.

Tim, who still had his own issues stemming from past abuse, had woken up and instinctively fought back, causing Jason to panic and do the same.

Bruce had managed to separate them rather quickly, but both were still shaken up.

"Do you want to tell me about it?"

Jason hugged his tail silently, staring out across the still dark water.

"So you remember that old story you used to tell us? The Superman one?"

"Yeah, I do."

"Do you think people ever hated him? Ever saw him as a bad guy for not helping them?"

"I don't know. Maybe. But, Jason, it was just a story."

"I know." Jason whispered, frustration evident in his voice. "I just…" he sighed and rested his chin on his arms, looking away.

"Jason?"

Jason rubbed his eyes with the palm of his hand, trying to stop the tears. "He's just one guy. And.. he tries his best to save who he can, but he's still got to choose who to save. Which means… there are people who… who he has to leave."

"What's this about? Your nightmare?" Clark rubbed Jason's arm.

Jason nodded. "I saved Damian. I got him out of there. But I… I had to leave someone behind. I had to choose. I could have gone back for her, but with how close they watched us, I don't think we would have been able to get away. I… I knew I'd never be able to go back for her. And… and I still left her." His shoulders shook and he gave up trying to dry his eyes.

"Oh, Jason. I'm sorry. It was a horrible, impossible situation. You did what you could."

"I left her. With them."

Clark made a mental note to talk to Bruce later, having never heard about any friends Jason had left at the Al-Ghul pod.

"Jason, listen to me. You did what you could. And you're alive. You and Damian. And because of that, the police now know where Talia's pod has been hiding. You did good. I'm sure your friend will be just fine."

Jason was about to reply, but they were interrupted by the sounds of a fussy, sleepy baby.

Tim's old hammock had been pulled out of storage and installed in the huge tree they all slept in, so Damian had his own bed.

Jason slipped off the dock and swam over, picking up the pup out of the hammock and swam back to his father.

Clark lifted the two of them up and sat them back beside him, watching as Jason gently cradled Damian, rocking him back to sleep.

"You did good, Jason. You did what you could."

"I know. But I still had to choose." Jason whispered, letting Damian hold his hand as he drifted off again. "Do you think Superman ever felt like this?"

Clark hugged Jason tight, being careful to not wake Damian. "I'm sure he did, buddy."

"I don't regret saving Damian. I'd do it again. But…" Jason trailed off.

"Buddy? Can you tell me any more about your friend?"

Jason looked down at the sleeping pup in his arms and closed his eyes. "She… she wasn't my friend. She was my sister. And I didn't go back for her."

Chapter Text

"Has Jason spoken to you about his time with that other pod?" Clark asked the next morning, tapping his fingers absently against his travel mug.

"Briefly. Why?" Bruce was stretched out on his back on the dock beside Clark, hands behind his head.

"He said he left someone there. Someone he saw as a sister."

Bruce turned his head, eyebrow raised. "That's the first I've heard of her."

Clark nodded. "Yeah. I think he's been keeping this to himself out of guilt. He didn't have the ability to save both her and Damian, and now…" Clark trailed off.

"His nightmares?" Bruce guessed.

Clark just nodded.

"Have the police made any headway in arresting them? Maybe we can get the two of them back in contact with each other?" Bruce rolled over and sat up, dragging his tail up in front of him and hanging it off the end of the dock.

Clark bit his lip and stared down at the small waves on the water's surface.

"Clark?"

"I've been checking in with them periodically." He admitted slowly. "I called them again an hour ago, to let them know the pod has at least one other kid being held against their will."

"And? Are they going to rescue her?"

Clark shook his head. "They marked the area around where the pod lives as a restricted zone. No one's allowed near due to how hostile and dangerous they are."

"Okay, but… the cops understand that they have a pup, right? Probably more than one."

Clark nodded. "The man I talked to said it was too risky to send officers to attempt a rescue. They've had run-ins with Talia and her pod before, and aren't willing to do it again unless we can prove that Jason's friend is actually in danger."

"What the heck counts as 'in danger' to them?"

"I don't know. I honestly don't think I want to know. But, unfortunately, this is where laws regarding pups are still-,"

"Ineffective and useless." Bruce growled, frustrated.

"Yeah. When a pup has been abandoned, or has lost their pod, it's perfectly legal for a new pod to just… take them in and adopt them. That's… that's how we got the boys. Tim's the only one I even had to fill out paperwork for, and that's just because we technically took custody of him from the hospital."

"I take it that's how they're claiming Talia is allowed to keep this girl? She 'adopts' podless pups?"

"Yeah. Thanks to mer law, she is as much Talia's daughter as the boys are our sons."

"This is… aggravating. Do we at least know her name? You keep referring to her as just 'her'."

Clark shook his head. "Jason didn't exactly want to talk. And I didn't want to push him. We'll see if we can ask him today."

"Alright."

Yyyyy

As it turned out, Jason was much more willing to talk when he was well-rested, rather than having just woken up mid-fight.

Her name was Cass, she was a young mer Jason's age, and, as was suspected, Talia had just shown up with her one day.

Jason had no idea what had happened to her previous pod, or if she'd even had one.

He just knew that the two of them had quickly become close, relying on each other to make it through their 'training'.

"So… they're not going to do anything?" Jason asked, picking at his breakfast.

"He said that if there is proof that she's both in danger and there against her will, they'll send some people." Clark replied.

"I'm not proof enough?" Jason jabbed his finger into his own chest, flabbergasted.

"Unfortunately not. The officer told me that, since you, a teenager, were able to escape with an infant…" Clark sighed heavily, just as upset and frustrated at the situation as Jason was. "He said that you must have been exaggerating about how aggressively they kept tabs on you."

Jason froze and just… looked at Clark.

He looked defeated.

Hopeless.

Confused.

Clark drew him close, hugging him.

Partly to comfort him.

Partly so Clark didn't have to see that look on his face.

"So… so what now? What do we do?" Jason asked, hugging him back.

"I… I'm not sure." Clark admitted.

"What if…"

They separated and looked at Bruce, who had been quiet up to this point.

Tim had Damian and was keeping him occupied on the other side of the lagoon so his family could have privacy.

Bruce watched them, eyes thoughtful.

"What if we went after her? You know the way there, and we're not human."

"They're dangerous, Bruce. Are… are you being serious?" Jason asked.

Bruce and Clark made eye contact silently communicating for a moment.

Bruce then looked back at Jason. "I'm sure. You and I are both built for stealth, and she needs someone to come help her. The cops are too scared of Talia to do anything. Besides, if… if I'd have known that you were still alive, nothing would have stopped me from hunting them down myself. As it stands, I've still got some… let's say, choice words… for them. And, while I might not be able to say them to her face, I want to at least make sure she can't keep doing things like this."

"Bruce, are you sure?" Clark would be lying if he said he didn't feel the same way about saving this pup, but he really didn't like the idea of his boyfriend and son being the ones to save her.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm sure. Jason, you don't have to come. You can just show me on a map-,"

"Uh, yeah. I- I have to come." Jason held up a hand to cut Bruce off. "No offense, but you're the definition of 'grew up sheltered'. I've seen you get lost heading to the harbor before."

"I'm really not liking this plan." Clark shook his head.

He did have to admit, though, he didn't see any other option.

Chapter Text

"I'm not comfortable with this." Clark said, reeling in his fishing line.

Nothing was biting, anyway.

"We'll be leaving next week." Bruce kept his own line out in the water.

He didn't used to like fishing the human way, but, over the years, it had grown on him.

He didn't do it with the intention of catching anything, though. To him, it was just a quiet, simple hobby he could do with his boyfriend.

"And we'll hopefully have some of Barry's pod with us."

"All of whom are civilians. And we don't even know if they'll agree. *You two* are civilians." Clark stressed.

"I know."

"Then why are you insisting on-,"

"Because what if she's still got a pod out there?"

Bruce didn't raise his voice often, so when he snapped, Clark knew to listen.

"What if they think she's dead?"

Bruce took a breath and slowly started reeling in his line.

"What we went through… I don't want anyone else to have to feel that way."

Clark took the pole from Bruce, glancing down at his tail.

He clearly remembered the sight of faded scales, the night he'd had to find Bruce at their meeting point, just sitting on the beach.

"When we took in the boys," Bruce continued, "it was because they needed someone to look out for them. They needed a pod. This girl deserves to be reunited with her family. And, if they really are gone, she deserves at least the chance to find a new one."

Clark sighed heavily. "You're right."

"Barry's pod will be here soon, and then we'll be able to see who all is willing to come help."

"Yeah. I'm just still not a fan of you two heading back out there. This is going to be a long journey, and you're heading out to essentially kidnap a pup from a very dangerous pod."

"What if it had been the other way around?" Bruce gathered the hooks, bait, lures, and assorted other equipment back into their tackle box while he talked. "What if Cass had escaped with Damian and left Jason there? Wouldn't you want someone to have gone back for him?"

"Of course I would."

Bruce latched the box and softly took Clark's hand in his. "I need to do this. I can't get it out of my head that… that our son was alive that whole time, and I was just here. I couldn't save him then, but I can save her now. I'm not letting another pup go through what he did."

Clark used his free hand to lift Bruce's chin so they could make eye contact. "And I need you to come home safe. You and Jason."

"We will, Clark."

"Promise."

Bruce sighed and gave Clark's hands a gentle squeeze. "I promise. I promise that I, Jason and Cass, along with whomever else joins us, will return safely."

Clark leaned forward and kissed Bruce's forehead.

"Now pinky promise."

The two of them jerked away from each other in surprise, not realizing until then that they weren't alone.

"Pinkie promise? What's that?"

"It's a human thing." Clark sheepishly explained as he reached down to lift Tim out of the water.

Tim was set on the dock and turned immediately to stare seriously at Bruce. "Pinkie promise. Like this." He held up his own pinkie, gesturing for Bruce to do the same.

He then linked them together.

"Pinkie promises are never, ever, allowed to be broken." He narrowed his eyes up at his father. "Ever. So if you say you all be back safe, that means you'll all be back safe. No matter what."

"I see." Bruce glanced briefly over at Clark, but only got the same stare from him. "I also think I'm starting to see where you've been getting your attitude from." He murmured.

"Bruce." Tim snapped. "Say it. Because we need to hear it. We'll have no way to communicate with you out there. No way to know if you're lost, or on your way back. Captured. In danger. Nothing. So I need you to look me in the eye and make sure I know that I'm not about to lose a third damn parent."

Bruce dropped his attempt at humor and looked down at his and his son's hands.

He then brought up his other hand to clasp Tim's hand in both of his.

"I know this is scary. But it needs to be done. And I pinkie promise you, Timmy, that we'll all be back safe and sound before you know it."

Tim glared through tears and shoved himself forward into Bruce's arms, hugging him tight and burying his face in his shoulder.

"I'm holding you to that."

Chapter Text

Bruce didn't get the chance to say goodbye to Dick before they left.

Barry's pod had arrived before Dick and Wally, despite the arrangement that they'd be following behind the boys.

"They'll be along in about a week." Barry had relayed. "I've been sworn to secrecy about what they're up to, but I can tell you that they're both fine. No illness, no injury."

Clark hadn't loved the secrecy, but he had been glad to hear it hadn't been an emergency keeping the boys longer.

Jay and Iris had opted to stay behind with Bart in the harbor, while Barry went with Bruce and Jason to save Cass.

"Be safe." Clark whispered, wrapping Jason in a bear hug.

Jason hugged him right back, just as hard, head buried I'm Clark's shoulder. "You too, old man."

"Hey, I'm serious." Clark took a step back, standing chest deep in the lagoon. "This is going to be dangerous. If you don't…" he sighed and cupped his pup's face in his hands. "Jason, if this gets too dangerous, just come home. Okay? Just come home."

Jason looked up at him, stoic expression still so strange to see on his face.

He took Clark's hands and floated back a bit so he could look up at his father. "We'll come home safe. And we'll come home with Cass."

Yyyyy

That night was… weird.

Clark hadn't realized until then just how long it had been since he'd gone to bed without first bidding a goodnight to Bruce.

Even when he had to travel back to Metropolis for required in-person meetings, he'd leave a phone on the boat and they'd be able to call back and forth.

But he'd never been on the dock with the knowledge that, not only was Bruce not there, he wouldn't be there for a while.

"This place is going to be different with just us, huh?"

Clark blinked, snapping out of his thoughts.

Tim was curled up on the dock beside him, frowning in concentration and following a pattern on Clark's phone as it walked him through how to sew a stuffed sheep.

"Yeah." Clark agreed.

Damian yawned wide, eyes drooping as he nodded off on Clark's lap.

"Hey, Timmy?"

Tim, tongue poking out the side of his mouth as he concentrated on tying off the end of the string without poking himself with the needle, nodded in answer.

"Since it's just going to be the three of us for a bit, would you like to move back up to the pond?"

Tim, reaching for scissors from the little beginners sewing kit Ma had gifted him, paused and looked up at him.

And then up towards the pond.

"I… hadn't really thought about that. Nighttimes are just going to be me and Damian now, huh?"

"Yeah. It's not a good idea for a thirteen year old and a one year old to stay down here alone. I was already planning on keeping Dami up in the boathouse just so he'd have a parent with him, but that would leave you alone."

Tim grabbed the scissors and snipped the rest of the string off the very lumpy sheep. He then put all of his tools back, closed the kit, and started examining the sheep, turning it over and over in his hands, squishing it somewhat into shape.

"I think," he started slowly, thoughtfully. "Dick's going to be home in about a week. I don't want him coming home to an empty lagoon. But, at the same time, I don't think I'll be able to stay down here alone for a whole week."

"Would you like me to bring one of the ATVs over to the pond so you can go back and forth as you like?"

Tim thought about it, and then nodded. "Yeah, I think that will work." He sat up straight and scooted closer to Clark, handing the sheep over to Damian.

The pup, nearly asleep, curled up with it automatically.

"Alright. Why don't you go get the hammock? Do you think you can reach it on your own?"

Tim nodded and slipped off the dock, swimming over to the big tree in the center of the lagoon.

As Clark watched, Tim pulled himself up onto the wide branch and scooted along it until he reached the hammock ropes. He wrapped his tail around the branch for balance and freed one side, and then the other, dropping it into the water.

He then unwrapped his tail and dropped the three feet into the water, splashing down right by the hammock.

"Nice job." Clark called as Tim gathered up the hammock and swam it back over to his father and brother.

Tim handed the hammock up to Clark, and then let himself be lifted up onto the dock as well.

"Do you think Damian's going to like the pond?" He asked.

Clark looked down at the little pup, snuggled up with his sheep and sound asleep on Clark's lap, green scales glittering in the lowering sun.

"I hope so. He's had so many changes to his environment so far that maybe he'll be able to adjust pretty quickly."

"I'm sure he will." Tim settled back down where he had been. "And, hey, it's not like he'll be up there for long. Just until Bruce and Jason get back."

Tim was trying to convince himself.

To make himself not worry.

Clark looked down at Damian again and held him just a little more securely.

"Yeah." Clark replied. "Bruce and Jason will be back soon."

Yyyyy

*Riiiiiiing!*

Clark narrowed his eyes and looked around.

What was ringing way out here?

He was sailing two miles offshore.

*Riiiiiiing!*

"Clark, would you get that?" Bruce, sunbathing in a deckchair at the bow, called lazily.

"Get what?" Clark leaned over the wheel, not able to find the source of the noise.

*Riiiiiiing!*

"Hey, Dad? Did you sneak your phone on vacation?" Jason laughed from the water, where he, Dick, Timmy, and Damian were hitting a beach ball back and forth.

*Riiiiiiing!*

Phone..?

Clark's eyes popped open and he sat up with a grunt.

He was in the boathouse, in his makeshift bed by the water.

It was pitch dark, so he felt around blindly until he found his phone and slid the answer button over.

"Mn. H'llo?" He grunted.

"Is there a way for you to get in contact with Bruce?!" Someone demanded over the line.

"What..? Who is-,"

"It's Jimmy! This is Jimmy! Can you contact Bruce?!"

Clark rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands, trying to wake up. "No. I can't. Why?"

Jimmy was silent for a few seconds. "Are you sure?" He then asked quietly.

"Yeah. I am. Jimmy, what's going on?"

"Clark, I… Look, just… sit down. Okay? A-are you sitting?"

"Jimmy, I'm sitting. What's going on?" Clark was starting to get really worried. Was there some sort of storm heading their way?

"I just saw it on the news. Talia's pod has been getting talked about recently, since their area has been labeled off limits, and there's been an update. Some of the locals have gotten fed up with dealing with them. So they pooled their money and hired the Deathstroke pod to wipe them out. They're assassins for hire, so basically anyone who helped orchestrate it is getting arrested, but the pod had already left by the time the cops caught anyone."

Clark swallowed, trying desperately to process what he was hearing.

"Jimmy..?"

"Clark, I'm sorry. But… it looks like they're swimming into a warzone."

Chapter Text

Clark didn't sleep a wink the entire rest of the night.

Damian's little snores were all he heard, and as the sun slowly came up he was gradually able to see Tim's gills fluttering softly under the water.

What was he supposed to tell the boys?

Should he tell them?

Would it do them any good to know?

Tim was worried enough as it was.

But what if he didn't say anything, and then Bruce and Jason never ended up returning-,

No!!

No.

They were coming back.

They would be back.

And they'd be safe.

… Right?

His insides twisted painfully and he sighed, resting his forehead on his bent knees.

Typically he'd go to Bruce with a dilemma like this.

But Bruce was heading into what was guaranteed to be a deadly fight.

And he had Jason with him.

"Dad?" He heard a sleepy whisper and raised his head.

Tim was awake and sitting up on the submerged platform.

"I didn't hear the alarm go off."

Clark couldn't do it.

He couldn't.

He tried, but the words died in his throat.

And so he gave a small smile.

"It's still early. Go back to sleep. I think I'm going to handle the morning chores on my own today."

Please.

Please listen.

Please don't press for more information.

Tim studied his face for a few seconds, though that may have been just an early morning blank stare, but eventually complied and sank back down below the water's surface to go back to sleep.

Yyyyy

"I don't know what to do. I don't know… what the right thing to do is." Clark paced back and forth behind the barn, on the phone with Lois.

*Do you think, if you were in his place, that you'd want to know?*

Clark shook his head, momentarily forgetting that she couldn't see him.

"I don't want to know *now*. I couldn't imagine feeling this scared and uncertain at thirteen about my parents. But, at the same time, Timmy isn't me. The two of us have had such different childhoods. Things that would have scared the heck out of me as a kid, I've seen him handle like a champ, while other things that seem normal or mundane to most end up being… way too much for him."

Lois was quiet for a bit and Clark sat down on an overturned water bin.

*Maybe, for now, it would be best to just try and keep everyone occupied?*

"I think that might be the only thing I can do." He sighed. "I'm going to see if Timmy's at all interested in running the fruit stand again. And with Damian just learning to swim, we're already pretty busy. I don't want to add to that."

The two said their goodbyes and hung up, Clark standing and heading down to the lagoon to retrieve Titus.

The dog had his own doghouse down by the water, but with everyone up at the pond, it didn't make sense to have him stay there.

As the two of them made their way back up the hill, Clark stopped and took a long look at the boathouse.

'So I need you to look me in the eye and make sure I know that I'm not about to lose a third damn parent.'

It would be at least two months before they knew anything.

Timmy didn't deserve to have more reasons to be worried added to all of the existing reasons.

Maybe, hopefully, some distractions would help.

And maybe giving the boys a fun summer would help him take his own mind off of things as well.

It was worth a shot, at least.

Yyyyy

Tim pulled back on the reins, bringing Robin to a stop. He then climbed over the bench into the back of the cart to help Clark unload and set up the fruit stand.

Damian, buckled into a car seat, happily babbled away to his sheep, tail covered under a blanket to protect it from the sun.

They had managed to attach the car seat to Robin's cart and quickly found out that the pup loved riding around in it, which kept him occupied while his father and brother worked.

Tim, wearing his apron, let down the back of the cart and started passing baskets of apples, blackberries, pears, and plums over to Clark, who arranged them around the stand.

Some on top of the table.

Some behind the table as overstock.

"While I'm out here," Tim handed over the 'Open' sign, "do you want me to keep Damian with me? That way you can work without having to watch him."

Clark set up the sign and placed his hands on his lower back, stretching and hearing his spine pop.

Why did aging have to hurt?

"Thanks, buddy. Have you got the walkie talkie in there?" He asked, pulling out Tim's wheelchair and unfolding it for him.

Tim nodded and grabbed the device, slipping it into one of the larger pockets in his apron before bracing himself against the cart and transferring himself down to the wheelchair. Once he was seated, he turned and snapped his fingers, calling Titus down out of the cart as well.

Clark reached into the back of the cart and lifted Damian's car seat over the side, keeping the blanket wrapped around his tail, and got him settled with a few toys behind the stand.

He then made sure the boys had everything they needed and led Robin to the front pasture, maybe twenty feet from the driveway.

He unstrapped the horse from the cart and set him loose to run around and graze until it was time to pack everything in for the night.

He just needed to take this one day at a time.

Just one day at a time.

Sighing heavily, he headed back to the barn to retrieve his laptop.

Not to work on articles, though.

To see if he'd be able to track down anyone with a boat who both lived in the area of Talia's pod and would be willing to try getting a message to a small group of mers.

It was a long shot, but he needed to try.

He turned one last time before entering the barn to look back at his boys, already helping a customer, and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Why couldn't things just be easy?

Just once?

Chapter Text

Clark heard the sound of laughter when he got close enough to the fruit stand. Curious, he hung back a moment, watching as Tim, moving his hands animatedly as he talked, recounted in great detail Titus's very first time in the canoe.

The young, blonde girl he was talking to was dressed in a light, purple hoodie, jeans, and flipflops.

Not a local, most likely.

Tourist, maybe?

She sat on the grass behind the stand, Titus basically crushing her legs as she happily played with his ears.

Tim had Damian on his lap as they talked, and the little mer was completely focused on the pear in his hands.

"I had to go down and tie a rope to the canoe just so we could get it back to the surface."

"Oh, come on. Look at this face!" She smooshed Titus's jowls in her hands. "I'm sure he didn't mean to tip it over."

"I am looking at his face. I've just known him for longer and am able to see past his puppy eyes to the little shit he really is."

The girl was quick to clasp her hands over Titus's ears, giving an exaggerated gasp. "He is not! You take that back."

"No." Tim taunted.

"You don't listen to him, Titus. I know you're perfect." She turned to the dog, who looked slightly confused but wasn't going to pass up the attention she was giving him.

"Hello." Clark waved, approaching.

"Hey, Dad." Tim greeted. "This is Stephanie. She's spending the summer in Smallville."

"Hi." Stephanie pushed Titus off her lap and stood up, holding out a hand to shake. "It's nice to meet you."

Clark shook her hand. "It's nice to meet you, too. I'm Clark. What brings you out here?"

Steph shrugged. "I got my legal guardian arrested. My social worker says I'm too young to be emancipated, so I'm living with some family friends until I'm old enough."

"We've been trauma-bonding." Tim grinned.

Damian made a little noise and excitedly threw the rest of his pear at Titus, who caught it and laid back down to chew on it.

Clark took the baby and looked back and forth between the two older kids.

"Well. Okay."

Stephanie and Tim shared a glance and giggled.

"Tim, I came to get you for lunch. Are you ready to close the stand for a bit and take a swim?"

Tim frowned slightly and glanced over at his new friend. "Oh, uh…"

Stephanie shrugged. "I'd better be heading back anyway. I'll see you around, Tim." She waved and walked off, heading towards town.

"She seems nice." Clark commented, observing Tim's face as he watched her leave.

"Yeah." He blushed, and then immediately tried to hide it, which only made him blush harder. "She, uh, she says I'm the first mer she's met on land."

Clark chuckled. "And what did you say to that?"

Tim sank down in his chair and covered his beat-red face with his hands. "I *tried* to say something witty. I ended up just laughing."

"And is that when you introduced her to Titus?"

The three of them made their way back to the pond using the driveway.

"So sue me. I don't know how to talk to girls."

Yyyyy

Clark sat cross-legged on the boathouse floor, watching as Tim swam around Damian, who was still learning to swim. They were making use of Tim's old floaty to help him along, and he seemed to enjoy it quite a bit.

A trout had gotten in the boathouse and was also swimming around with the boys, flitting away everytime Damian splashed after it.

"-and she said that her favorite color is purple. And her favorite books are adventures. And she's really good at trivia games."

Clark hid his smile by taking a bite of his sandwich.

"Do you think I can run the fruit stand tomorrow?" Tim grinned and used his tail to push himself out of the way as Damian splashed past, trying to reach the fish.

"You're excited to see her again?" Clark asked.

Tim grinned and looked down at the water. "I kinda told her that I'm also good at trivia games. She said- oof! Damian!"

The green pup had driven the floaty full force into his brother, but hardly seemed bothered by it, as he was still chasing the fish.

"Oh, fine!" Tim dove down to catch the trout and resurfaced quickly. In a swift motion, he hooked his fingers into its gills and yanked, breaking it's neck.

"Anyway, she said she'll bring some over tomorrow to keep me company in between customers." Tim continued, absently deboning a bit of trout for Damian.

He handed it over, but Damian didn't take it.

Clark and Tim both looked at him, and that was when they saw the open mouthed look of horror on his face.

"... Ishy?" He eventually whimpered, crying and turning to Clark.

"Uh, what?" Tim looked back and forth in confusion between the trout and the pup, while Clark lifted Damian out of the water and cuddled him to his chest.

"I think we might have just witnessed the birth of a vegetarian." Clark joked, trying to comfort the pup, bouncing him slightly and twisting back and forth. "He might have wanted to pet it."

"It's… a fish." Tim said slowly.

"You know people eat sheep, too, right?"

Tim's eyes widened and he dropped his hands back into the water, looking slightly gray. "Really? Why would you say that? I don't want to know that."

"And I don't want to run the risk that this kid actually becomes a vegetarian. I don't know how we're going to feed him if he does."

Tim narrowed his eyes at Clark and crossed his arms. "I'm gonna tell Grandma you're just being mean to me." He grumbled.

Chapter Text

Steph came back the next day with a cardboard box filled with cards.

Tim packed a small folding table in the cart so they'd have a place to play, and they both asked to have Titus hang out with them again.

Clark had no issue with their arrangement, but decided to keep Damian with him instead. He got out Tim's old blanket and secured Damian to his back as he got to work with the animals.

Albeit, he kept taking more breaks to check his laptop for any replies to his emails looking for boat owners willing to help him, but Damian was too young to be suspicious, and Tim was distracted by both Steph and work.

As he hadn't told Ma or Pa, he continued to be the only one who knew that Bruce and Jason's trip had become even more dangerous than they had expected.

He ended up being about an hour late fetching Tim for lunch, but the pup had apparently not noticed.

This was a bit of a relief for Clark, until he noticed that his tail had started drying out.

"Okay." Tim grunted, stiffly lowering himself onto the submerged platform. "That… that feels better."

"You had the walkie talkie with you, right?" Clark asked, trying to convince Damian to just take a bite of shrimp dish he'd made.

Given Tim's allergy, they tended to all avoid shellfish just to be safe, but at this point he was just trying to get Damian to eat any kind of protein, and shrimp tended to be a staple of a young mer's diet.

The pup refused to budge, though.

He sat low in the floaty, head, shoulders, and arms the only bits of him that were above the water, and glared daggers at Clark whenever he tried to hand him food.

Clark was now desperate enough to have mashed a few of the shrimp into a mostly kelp and seaweed blend, hoping to trick him into eating.

"Yeah, I did." Tim stretched his tail out along the platform, sighing in relaxation as he soaked in the pond.

"Why didn't you call me, then?"

Tim sighed, and then twisted his body off the platform and flicked his tail, turning over and coming up right behind Damian.

"I… kinda might not have noticed? … Oops?" He grinned in embarrassment and gently spun Damian's floaty until the pup was giggling happily.

Tim then gestured for the spoon and waved it in the air above his brother's head, playing 'airplane' until Damian squealed and waved his hand, trying to grab the food Tim held just out of reach.

Tim then brought it down and gave it to him, and Clark watched in relief as Damian ate the whole spoonful without complaint.

Tim handed the spoon back to Clark and Damian followed after it, only to pause and resume his glare when he saw the spoon dip back into the bowl Clark had just been trying to feed him from.

"I'm sorry." Tim frowned. "I didn't think that killing a fish in front of him would affect him like this."

Clark shook his head. He wasn't happy about the situation, either, but it could just as easily have been any of them.

"I've never seen a pup react like this before. Bruce and I have killed fish in front of all three of you boys before and there's never been an issue. Besides, you're supposed to start killing their food in front of them while they're young, so they get used to it."

"So is he actually going to be a vegetarian now?"

"I… I really hope not. I don't know much about *human* vegetarian diets, let alone mer. I'm still holding out hope that he'll change his mind, but if he doesn't then I'll have no choice but to learn how to feed him."

Clark sighed and dipped the spoon halfheartedly back into the bowl.

"I wish Bruce was here." Tim mumbled.

Clark knew he wasn't trying to be mean, that he just missed his father, but he still felt like he'd been punched in the gut.

"I do too, buddy."

He'd never realized just how much Bruce had truly become his other half until he'd left.

Bruce would know how to get Damian to eat.

Bruce would have all sorts of advice for Tim regarding his new friend-

Oh, shit.

The realization hit Clark so suddenly that he physically froze.

Tim was friends…

With a girl.

What if..?

Would he have to give him… the Talk?

How would he do that?

How did his parents do it-,

Wait.

Tim was a mer.

Which meant Clark was even less prepared for this.

Damian, stomach audibly growling, started getting fussy and crying.

"Come here, kiddo." Clark lifted him out of the water and sat him on his lap, holding the spoon up to him again.

He pushed it away.

"Buddy, please?"

He wanted so badly for Bruce to return.

Everything felt like it was happening at once.

He needed his co-parent.

His partner.

Bruce.

With a sigh of defeat, he put the spoon back in the bowl and pushed it to the side.

And then he shifted Damian to one side of his lap and held his other arm wide.

"Come here." He said to Tim.

The young mer immediately lifted himself out of the water and into Clark's lap, curling up into the hug.

"We'll be okay." He tried to sound confident. "We'll be okay until Bruce and Jason come back. We've got this."

Tim nodded, head tucked into Clark's shoulder.

"I love you, boys."

"Love you, too, Dad."

Clark held them close for another minute, wishing he felt as sure as he sounded.

Chapter Text

Clark swirled his coffee, still trying to wake up.

Tim lay next to him, head pillowed on his arms. The bottom half of his body was still in the water, on the submerged platform.

Damian snored in his hammock, officially on day six of flatly refusing to eat any kind of meat. He unfortunately had a good nose and could smell when Clark mixed it into his food, no matter how creative he got.

Even Ma's cooking hadn't been enough.

Fortunately, after a desperate call to Alfred, they had discovered that some types of algae contained protein and could be used as a supplement while they tried to reintroduce actual meat to his normal diet.

They had tried some in his dinner the night before and, sure enough, he'd eaten his entire bowl. Clark had breathed a huge sigh of relief at that.

"Mmmnnn. Why's the sun gotta come up so earlyyyyy?" Tim whined.

Clark chuckled and ruffled Tim's hair. "Did you stay up late again?"

"... Maybe."

"So what do you think you should do tonight?" Clark prompted.

As Tim was now officially a teenager, (and totally not because Clark had tried sitting Tim down to have the Talk with him, only to bail at the last second) he and Clark had had a conversation about responsibility.

Tim wanted to branch out a bit more, but Clark was reluctant, given the current situation with Bruce and Jason.

And the fact that Damian apperently had the willpower of a monster.

And he didn't know where Dick was.

And so they had compromised.

Tim was now in charge of his own bedtime.

Clark allowed him to swim free in the pond or hang out in the boathouse, so long as he didn't wake Damian.

Tim pursed his lips, like he really didn't want to answer that question.

"Tim."

"Stay up even later until my body gets used to-,"

"No."

"I could… start drinking coffee in the mornings?"

"Nope. You are way too young to have this habit and I am not going to be bringing you coffee just because you wanted to decide your own bedtime and then stayed up too late."

Tim sighed dramatically and rolled over onto his back, letting his arms flop out to either side of him. "You mean *I* have to be the one to deal with the consequences of my own self-destructive behavior?"

"I'm afraid so, buddy."

"Boo."

"Tell me about it. Now just wait until you're entirely grown."

"Ugh." Tim rolled his eyes and flipped back over. "Fine. I'll go to bed earlier."

Clark chuckled and shook his head. "That's probably a good idea."

Tim, sticking his tongue out, retorted smugly, "I know. I just came up with it."

Clark laughed and Tim joined in.

It felt good to just be goofy with his pup sometimes.

The fact that the hammock had been hung back up in the boathouse had prompted, more than once, memories of the last time it had hung there.

Back when it had been Timmy laying in it.

Back when he'd been mute.

Scared.

Sick and injured.

It was still so hard for Clark to look at the sassy, hardheaded teenager in front of him and remember that he and that shadow of a pup were one and the same.

But he was.

And, as hard as it was to think back on how Tim had been when he'd first arrived, Clark would never not be impressed and amazed by the mer he was growing into.

*Hey. Where the heck is everyone?*

Tim hauled himself out of the water and across the floor as fast as he could, soaking Clark's blankets and waking Damian, in an effort to reach the walkie talkie.

"Dick? Dick! You're back!"

Heave a sigh.

*Yeah, I'm back. Where are you? Is everything alright?*

Pick up and rock the baby.

"Clark, Damian, and I are up at the boathouse. We'll be right down."

Kick the blankets against the wall with a mental note to clean them.

*Okay. By the way, Wally and I have a surprise, so try not to make too much noise on your way down, please?*

Take the walkie talkie from the impulsive teenager.

"We'll be right there, Dickie." He said into the device, still trying to soothe Damian.

There was silence, and then the device beeped again.

*Thanks. For that. I'm twenty, by the way.*

Clark, holding a fussy baby, raising an eyebrow at his sheepishly grinning teenager, smirked and hit the button again. "I'm sorry. My mistake. You're right, I should use your grown up name."

*... Clark, no.*

"What, Richard?" He teased, grinning as Tim laughed, smiling excitedly as he made his way to the doors that led out to the rest of the pond.

*Clark.*

"Yes, Richard?"

*Clark, I swear.* Dick ground out, not doing a good job of hiding his laughter.

"We'll see you in a minute, buddy. Timmy's already heading out to the ATV. Wait, will that be too loud?" Clark snapped his fingers to get Tim's attention, suddenly really wondering what Dick had brought home.

*No, that should be fine. Just don't be obnoxious with it.*

"Hear that, Tim? No going crazy, okay?"

"Yes, sir." Tim nodded and swam off to get the ATV.

*We'll see you soon, Clark.*

"See you soon." Clark replied, heading out the door with Damian.

Chapter Text

"You… brought home a… puppy."

Dick grinned widely, looking so much like the brat he'd been twelve years ago. "You said you wanted dogs for protection. And pit bulls are so cute!"

"And free. Well, I mean, this specific one was." Wally chimed in.

Tim lay on his belly on the dock, holding out his hands to coax the three legged puppy closer.

"Okay, just… tell me what happened." Clark shook his head and sat down, resting Damian on his lap.

"We found her swimming just off the coast on our way here. I think she fell off a boat or something. She needed some treatment for her, eh, leg, so we stayed back at our last stop until she was able to travel. I named her Haly." Dick pulled himself partway up onto the dock, dangling from it, and petting the puppy.

"Haly?" Clark raised an eyebrow at the name, very clearly remembering Dick's old pod.

Dick smiled and shrugged. "Yeah, well. They were still a big part of my life. And the work we did with the institute was important to my parents."

Haly yapped and hopped closer to Dick, licking his hand.

"So, uh, where's Bruce and Jason?" Dick asked, looking around. "Did something happen?"

Clark frowned and looked at Tim. "Hey, buddy? Why don't you go get some of Titus's food? We can see if she's hungry."

Tim glanced back and forth between his brother and father, but just nodded and made his way back to the ATV.

He started it and drove it back up to the house via the trail.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Dick pulled himself the rest of the way up onto the dock. "You guys aren't… having trouble, are you?"

Clark shook his head. "No. But… they're not here right now. Jason's been having nightmares about a girl he had to leave with the Al-Ghul pod. Cass. He says she was like a sister to him. Unfortunately, as we don't have any proof that she's really being held against her will, the police refused to help. So… Bruce, Jason, and Barry left to go get her."

"They're… they're going after the Al-Ghul pod?" Dick and Wally looked at each other, wide-eyed.

"Yes. And that's not all. I haven't told Timmy yet, but… Jimmy called. Have either of you heard of the Deathstroke pod?" Clark had had to look them up online, and everything he'd learned had only stressed him out more.

"Yeah. They're basically hitmen for hire."

"I heard a rumor that they train by antagonizing sharks." Wally swam over and hoisted himself up to sit beside Dick, scooping up Haly.

"Yeah, well… Jimmy saw on the news that they were hired to go after the Al-Ghul pod."

"Wait. So… so Bruce, Jason and Barry don't know?" Dick asked.

Clark shook his head. "No."

"Do Iris and Bart know?" Wally asked, running his hand down Haly's back.

"I had a talk with Iris the last time she and Bart came by. I don't know if she told Bart. I've been trying to contact boat owners or fishing companies, really anyone I can, to try and get a message to them to turn back."

"And?"

Clark shook his head. "Nobody's willing to go anywhere near the Deathstroke pod."

The three of them were silent for a while, just trying to process everything.

"Wait, how… how close is the Al-Ghul pod? Like, how long will they be traveling if everything goes right?" Dick was suddenly almost insistent.

"About two months. Why?"

"Because he's a long-fin. Bruce is a long-finned mer. He's not built to be traveling like that."

Oh, no.

"I… oh, my god. I forgot about that." Clark turned on instinct to the inlet, as if Bruce was about to swim back in.

Bruce, of course, didn't.

Clark closed his eyes.

This was all turning out to be too much.

Everything was going wrong.

He just wanted his family home safe.

Eating normally.

And, hey, while he was at it, being safe with their female friends as well.

"Clark? Are you okay?"

Sighing weakly and feeling himself deflate, Clark nodded.

And then heard himself start talking.

He didn't mean to dump everything that had been happening onto Dick and Wally, but, much to his horror, he hadn't been able to stop himself.

He was stressed.

Overwhelmed.

Tired.

Scared.

And, if he was being honest, really bad at keeping things to himself.

"So, yeah." He rubbed his temples, head bowed. "I haven't told Ma or Pa, because I don't want to stress them out. Ma and I have just managed to get Pa to cut back on coffee for his health, and they don't… they don't need this. I've taken some personal time from work and Lois and Jimmy have been making sure to spotlight the people getting arrested, so people will think twice about calling hits in the future. But… there's no way to stop the pod. I haven't found a way to get in contact with your father. Damian's vegetarian. Tim's got a girl he's been spending a lot of time with and is now regulating his own bedtimes. And Titus is also terrified of the chickens. It's… it's been a lot. I… really didn't realize until now just how long it had been since Bruce and I had spent longer than a day or two apart. I'm sorry you had to come home to this."

"That's… a lot to take in." Dick replied softly. "I'm sorry, Clark."

Wally cleared his throat. "Uh, would now be a bad time for some good news? If so, I- I can totally do the announcement thing later."

Clark shifted Damian to the other side of his lap. "Announcement?"

Dick bit his lip and nodded. "Yeah. Wally and I will be rejoining his pod." He sat back and took Wally's hand, the two of them looking at each other with soft smiles. "We're, uh, going to be needing the help."

Clark looked back and forth between the two, having a dawning feeling about what he was about to hear. "Help with… what?"

"We haven't been placed with anyone yet, but… the two of us have officially signed up to be a placement pod for lone pups. We're… we're going to be parents."

Chapter Text

Clark grabbed out three of the travel mugs from the cupboard and laid them out with his, preparing a pot of hot chocolate for himself, Timmy, Dick, and Wally.

The older boys had Damian and were playing with Haly down on the dock while he grabbed them all drinks, while Tim had headed back up to the barn to get the fruit stand opened back up for the day.

"Four mugs of cocoa? I think we need to talk about Timmy's sugar intake." Ma laughed, coming into the kitchen.

"Dick and Wally are here." He explained, stirring the pot. "Oh, totally unrelated, but we've got another puppy, now."

"Another puppy? Aw, what kind? Jonathan and I will be down in a bit to see them. I'll be sure to bring some food."

"She's a three-legged pit bull. She's already got Timmy wrapped around her little paw." He chuckled.

"Oh, I can't wait to see her. How are the boys doing? How… how did they react when you told them about Cass?"

"They're worried. Understandably." He turned off the heat and removed the pot from the burner. "I wish I had better news for them to come home to."

Ma nodded sadly, sympathizing.

"I did get permission to pass along their good news, though."

"Oh? And what's that?"

"You and Pa will be getting a promotion soon."

Ma frowned and raised a suspicious eyebrow at him. "Given that we're both retired, I'm not sure what kind of promotion you have in mind."

Clark grinned. "It hasn't happened yet, but Dick and Wally are waiting to be placed with a lone pup. They're adopting. Which means-,"

"I'm going to be a great-grandma?!" Her eyes went wide, and she looked thrilled. "I'm going to be a great-grandma!"

Clark couldn't help but smile at how happy she looked.

He had hardly felt like smiling since the rescue party had left for their dangerous journey, but his mother's joy was infectious.

"I'm going to go tell your Pa! Oh, my goodness. And a puppy?"

She hurried out of the room and he finished off the cocoa, pouring it into the travel mugs.

He wanted to be ecstatic for Dick and Wally.

And he was.

He'd been honest when he'd congratulated them, wrapping Dick up in a bear hug.

But… just like Ma, he wanted to share that moment with his partner.

The news that they were about to be grandparents was something they should have both heard.

This was a moment he wanted to share with Bruce.

But Bruce wasn't there.

And might never be again-,

No!

Clark shook his head, as if that would chase those negative thoughts away.

Bruce was coming home.

And he'd have Jason, Barry and Cass with him.

They would be back.

They would be safe.

They would.

He sighed and gathered the mugs up, heading out the door to pass them out.

Yyyyy

Wally swam around the lagoon, playing with Damian, diving under the water occasionally to resurface and drive the green tailed pup into a fit of laughter.

Dick and Clark, meanwhile, sat on the dock, talking and preparing Damian's breakfast.

"I don't think I've ever heard of a vegetarian mer before. At least, not one who was that way by choice." Dick remarked, mixing the algae supplement into the bowl.

"Given that you're the most well-traveled mer I know, I was really hoping you wouldn't say that." Clark shook his head. "I feel like it could have been avoided somehow, but I just don't know how. This isn't a problem we ever had with you or Jason. Timmy, kind of, but he's still able and willing to eat most seafood. Damian, though? I've never seen a pup this stubborn."

Dick quirked a smile. "Aw. Not even me?"

Clark arched an eyebrow at him. "Considering you went from attacking me and my boat, to helping me prepare baby food? Yeah. He's more stubborn than you."

Dick feigned offense, one hand to his chest, and scooped up Haly. "We'll, maybe I'm just playing the long game. Luring you into a false sense of security."

"Well then, I'm afraid Wally will have to find out about-,"

"Nope! I take it back." Dick cut him off abruptly, scratching Haly under her chin.

"You didn't even hear what I was going to say."

"Clark, there are a few too many things you could be talking about, and I don't want the man I love to have that kind of information."

Clark bit back a laugh, but still nodded in the direction of the other mer. "I think he's known you long enough to have plenty of stories of his own about you."

"Yeah, I don't think I like that you're right about that. Not to change the subject or anything, but what's the deal with Timmy's new friend? Steph?"

"Her father robbed a bank and she was the one to turn him in. Until she's old enough to file emancipation paperwork, she'll be living with family friends up the road. She and Tim have been practically attached at the hip since they first met. She brings games, books, or cards nearly every day and hangs out with him while he runs the fruit stand. This morning she even brought snacks for the two of them."

"Aww. It sounds like someone's got a little crush." Dick sang. He then waved Wally over and lifted a slightly confused Damian out of the water. It didn't look like the pup had noticed that playtime had ended until he was hovering above the water.

Clark sighed. "I think the two of them are just friends right now, but…"

"That's how Wally and I started." Dick finished for him.

"Precisely."

"Wait, I thought we started as enemies?" Wally hefted himself out of the water, leaving the end of his tail to hang over the edge of the dock.

"Enemies?" Clark took Damian from Dick and sat him in his lap. "I thought you two got along great from the start."

"Oh, well…" Dick stammered, but Wally interrupted him almost immediately.

"You threw a fish at me and took off. What part of that was supposed to tell me you wanted to be friends?"

"Wait, you what?" Clark was so shocked he forgot he'd been feeding Damian until the pup made an annoyed noise and tried to grab the spoon.

"Oh, come on! I was like twelve!" Dick protested.

"That's funny. Because I'm sure Ma taught me not to throw things at people when I was like five."

"That's funny." Dick shot back. "Because I don't remember Grandma raising me. In fact, I'm pretty sure I learned that fish trick from you."

"Fish trick?" Wally asked, watching the exchange with a grin on his face.

"He threw fish at Bruce when they first met and they've been together for… what, like, thirteen years now?"

"Dick, that's not… I… We raised you better than this." Clark fed Damian another spoonful, embarrassment burning his cheeks.

"Obviously not." Wally chimed in, helpfully.

Before anyone could continue, though, the walkie talkie clipped to Clark's belt crackled loudly.

*Mr. Kent? Mr. Kent, we need help!*

"Steph? What's wrong?" He answered it, Dick and Wally falling silent.

*Something's wrong with Tim! He was just fine a second ago, but now I don't think he can breathe!*

Chapter Text

Clark ran his hand over Tim's hair, smoothing it out as the pup slept, draped over his legs

He was back in one of the low pools at Leslie and Alfred's clinic, getting some rest now that they were done treating him.

They had unfortunately neglected to inform Steph about Tim's unique allergy, so she'd had no idea that bringing crab dip to snack on would result in a medical emergency.

Clark had fortunately been able to drive Tim to the clinic in time, though he was sure he was going to be getting a ticket in the mail for running a red light.

"He's going to be just fine. An allergic reaction now won't be nearly as devastating to his health as it was back when he was a kid." Leslie eased herself down and sat beside Clark and Tim.

Clark was seated on the edge of the pool, Tim's top half in his lap.

"I know. Thank you." Clark sighed, but found that that didn't release any of the tension he was feeling.

"There's no way to be on top of everything, you know."

Clark blinked and looked at her.

"You're parenting a toddler and a teenager. It's okay to give yourself time to breathe. In fact, you look like you need it."

Clark sighed and nodded, wondering just how stressed he looked if it was visible enough to warrant a talk from Leslie.

Tim made a small noise in his sleep and moved his tail slightly.

Clark ran a hand down his back a few times, being careful of his spiked dorsal fin.

"I'm a father of four. I've been doing this for years. I've… I've done this and more, actually, because I'm not even working right now. I'm using my vacation time. I don't know why I can't… I just… I feel like I'm falling, you know?" Clark closed his eyes and rested his hand on Tim's head, feeling him breathe slowly. "Everytime I turn around, there's another fire I need to put out. And I don't know what to do. I've… I've never done this… alone before."

Bruce had managed to maintain healthy meals for their boys for years.

Clark had been in charge for hardly any time at all, and both of their youngest were having problems.

Actual, serious, problems.

Why couldn't he do this?

Leslie placed her surprisingly strong hand on his shoulder. "You're not alone." She spoke gently but firmly. "You have people you can count on. People who are both ready and more than willing to help you. You just need to let them."

"It's not that simple-,"

"It never is." She interrupted. "But think about this. If it were one of your parents who was struggling, wouldn't you want to know?"

Clark didn't respond, and Leslie reached out to brush some of Tim's hair away from his gills, checking on them.

"What about Tim? He looks up to you. Wants to be like you. Is this the example you want to set for him?"

It wasn't.

Clark ran his hand down Tim's back again.

"I don't mean to guilt you into asking for help, though I've found that's about all that will work on Bruce," she gave a small chuckle. "I've just seen it happen too many times. Someone doesn't want to bother anyone else, so they try and handle it all themselves. But nobody can handle everything by themselves. There's nothing wrong with leaning on those that are there for you."

Clark nodded. "I uh… I think I'm starting to see where Bruce gets it." He grinned, but she only looked tired and unimpressed.

"I come over here to be nice and you insult me." She feigned offence, holding a hand to her chest.

Clark let himself laugh.

"I claim no credit for any 'wisdom' my son may have imparted on you. He's always been smart, I'll grant him that, but wise?"

"You know, Dick and Jason have both mentioned similar things about Bruce. Is there something I'm missing? Because I've always seen him as being pretty intelligent."

Leslie shrugged. "He is. He really is. When it comes to being book-smart. But he was raised by myself and Alfred, not other mers. And, given our line of work," she gestured around them at the tanks and pools, "we kept him in here with us a lot of the time. Anything he knows about living in the ocean, he either taught himself or learned from one of the various patients we've had through here."

Clark nodded, thinking. "I remember he told me he used to help out with the pups you guys would take care of."

Leslie smiled fondly. "Yes. He helped out with most of our patients, but anytime we had a lone pup Bruce would always go into 'protective big brother' mode. I'm not surprised that he's adopted pups of his own." She then sighed. "Or that he's gone off on this fool's errand. Don't get me wrong, I hope they save that girl, but…"

"All the risks?" Clark guessed, finishing her thought when she trailed off.

She nodded. "Yeah. And I've seen the news. I know… I know about… that other pod." She looked faraway for a moment, but quickly hid it. "They'll be back safe. I know it. But, as I said, I'm not surprised that Bruce went. He remembers what it was like, being a lone pup. He doesn't want anyone else to feel the way he did."

"What other pod?"

Clark froze.

Tim, still groggy, pushed himself off of Clark's lap and sat back, eyeing the two adults wearily.

"Is… is there something else going on?"

Chapter Text

"When were you going to tell me?" Tim crossed his arms over his chest, sitting back against the ledge on the opposite side of the pool.

Leslie had excused herself so the two of them could have a private conversation.

"After the talk I just had with your grandmother, probably tonight." Clark confessed.

"Probably." He repeated, obviously upset.

Clark nodded. "Yes. Jimmy called me after they left to tell me what was going on. I decided to keep it to myself. I didn't want-,"

"What? You didn't want what? To trigger me? To… to risk upsetting me? Dad, this…" Tim, eyes watering and voice cracking, had to break off for a second to compose himself. "This is my family." He couldn't get the last word out without finally breaking, bowing his head and crying.

Clark wanted nothing more than to wrap Tim up in a hug and tell him it would all be okay, but he stayed where he was.

Tim didn't want to be hugged at the moment.

He didn't want to be touched.

"I know, buddy. And I'm sorry."

"Don't. Please. Just…" Tim brought his hand up and wiped his eyes. "Just tell me the truth. I can take it, okay? I'm not a baby. I'm not made of glass. I'm… I'm thirteen. I know I have problems, but it's not like I need my entire life childproofed. I…" he broke off to take a breath and wipe his eyes again, and then looked up and locked eyes with his father. "Are they dead?"

"... I don't know."

"You don't…" Tim swallowed hard and turned to look at the wall, arms still firmly crossed over his chest. "Who else knows?"

"What do you mean?"

Tim looked Clark directly in the eye, cheeks still wet, and asked again. "Who else knows? Am… am I the only one who was left out of the loop?"

"No." He shook his head. "I haven't told anyone but Dick and Wally. I was hoping I'd be able to find someone who lives in the area of Talia's pod who could intercept Bruce, Barry, and Jason, but I haven't had any luck so far."

Tim let out a humorless chuckle, nearly a scoff. "Why didn't you tell me? I could have helped."

"You were worried enough-,"

"They're my family! Of course I'm worried!" Tim snapped, growing frustrated. "But I could have helped! Or do you really think I'm too fragile to do even that?"

"Tim, I…" Clark sighed. This wasn't going well. "I know you're strong. But this sort of thing wasn't something I wanted to expose you to. You're only thirteen. You shouldn't have to be worrying about whether or not your dad and brother are safe."

"'Shouldn't have to.' I shouldn't have had to survive a childhood where half my basic diet was trying to kill me, and I did. I shouldn't have had to migrate, and I'm still here. I shouldn't have had to relearn how to swim, but I did it and more. I know how I was when you found me. I remember. I was there, too. But what's it going to take for you to see that that's not me anymore? I… I'm not helpless. I can handle bad news. I can help if our family needs me."

"I know you can, buddy."

"Then why did you keep this from me?" Tim demanded

"I kept it from everyone, Timmy." Clark admitted. "I thought I'd be able to find them. I thought I'd be able to get them home safe before anyone else had to know they were in danger."

There was a knock on the door leading back to the lobby and Leslie poked her head in. "Timmy, you've got some visitors if you're up to it. It's your grandparents and Steph."

Clark and Tim shared a brief look, and Clark stood up.

"I think I'm going to have a talk with Ma and Pa if you want me to send Steph in."

Tim rubbed his eyes and nodded, trying to make it look like he hadn't just been crying a second ago.

Yyyyy

"He's upset." Clark commented, watching as Tim swam back and forth at the enterence to the inlet.

"Do you blame him?" Dick asked, seated beside him on the end of the dock.

Damian was currently down for a nap and Tim had been trying to get up the courage to swim past the inlet since he'd been cleared to return to the lagoon.

They weren't too worried about him swimming off, as they'd seen him get like this several times before.

He needed to prove himself.

Needed to prove that he was just as capable as his brothers.

But, despite the fact that he'd been living with them for the past six years, he'd never been able to successfully swim out to the ocean.

Clark watched him swim in a wide circle, trying to psych himself up, only to approach the inlet and completely freeze.

He'd suspected for a while that the trauma Tim had endured as a pup had resulted in some level of agoraphobia, but wasn't sure if that was the right term for it, as Tim was perfectly fine travelling miles inland, far from any access to the water.

"You know how he is. He hates it when people treat him like a pup." Dick shifted his tail and poked the sewing needle into Sheep again, patching up the hole Damian had accidentally ripped in it.

"I know. And I wasn't trying to protect him because I thought he'd be unable to handle the knowledge. I kept it from him because I'm his father, this is a terrifying, uncertain situation, and he's only thirteen." Clark drew in a long breath and let it out slowly.

Tim, growing frustrated with himself, threw himself at the inlet with a growl, only to pull to a stop in the water right as he reached the edge of the lagoon.

"He's an angsty teen. I don't think he sees it that way." Dick snipped the thread free from the stuffed animal and returned the needle and scissors to Tim's sewing kit, watching as Wally swam out to Tim, talking softly now that it seemed he'd burned off some of his anger and frustration.

"After what all happened to him, it's hard for him to recognize the difference between being protected and being overprotected." Clark agreed, watching as Wally talked to Tim.

Tim's shoulders gradually slumped and he reluctantly flicked his tail, swimming around to Wally's side and climbing up onto his back. He crossed his arms one over the other and rested his chin on them, still frustrated, but letting Wally swim him back to his family.

"But, hey. Now that we all know," Dick whispered, "at least we can all help."

Chapter Text

Wally and Dick decided, under the circumstances, that they'd be skipping the last leg of their migration to help out with Damian and Tim.

Iris stayed as well, but Jay and Bart, thanks to the changing weather and Jay's advanced age, soon had to move on to the next stop on their journey.

Due to the fact that they were now housing multiple migratory mers, Clark, Tim, and Pa dug out their extra water heaters a bit earlier than usual.

Tim stayed fairly silent and sullen for a while, but a few quiet talks with Ma and Pa later and he started relaxing and coming around. He was still upset about having been lied to, but understood that Clark had kept this information from everyone and not just him.

Damian still maintained his title of 'Most Stubborn Pup' by flatly refusing to even attempt to be weaned off of the algae supplements, though Ma, Dick and Wally took over most of Damian's meal times which really helped Clark out.

Pa, Tim, and Clark handled the animals and farm chores, with Pa being strictly ordered to not do any heavy lifting.

And Clark was finally able to breathe.

Maybe not completely, but for the first time since Bruce and Jason had left he didn't feel like he was fighting a losing battle.

Now it felt more like… holding down the fort.

They were all just holding down the fort until Bruce, Jason, and Barry returned.

Because they were definitely returning.

Yyyyy

Soon a month had gone by.

And then another.

Titus and Haly, despite having separate dog houses, had decided that they enjoyed sharing Titus's house more and regularly curled up together to nap or play.

Tim and Steph, needing something to occupy their minds, kept the fruit stand open.

Steph also had made sure to give Tim a notepad the day she'd come to visit him in the clinic, demanding to know any and all foods he was allergic to.

Lois and Jimmy kept everyone updated on the court cases of the people who had hired the Deathstroke pod, but were unfortunately unable to track down much more information about anything to do with Talia's pod.

And then, before any of them were prepared, Ma looked at the calendar one day and noticed that a third month had passed.

Yyyyy

"Iris says that Jay and Bart should be making their return trip soon." Tim mentioned carefully, steering his wheelchair around the front of the fruit stand and making sure everything was arranged to look presentable.

Clark hesitated only briefly as he passed Tim the box of stuffed toys the young mer had made while bored and decided to include in the stand.

Steph hadn't arrived yet, but it was still fairly early in the morning. The sun hadn't even made it all the way up yet, so the light was still somewhat dim, but the two of them were used to getting up early.

"It's… not good that they're this late. Right?" Tim continued, pretending to take great interest in arranging the toys among the baskets of eggs and jars of jams. With the changing weather, they'd had to switch to other products to sell.

Damian, strapped into his car seat in the back of the cart, flicked his tail and busied himself chewing on an apple, occasionally trying to offer pieces to Titus and Sheep.

He didn't seem fazed that only Titus accepted the treats.

"No." Clark finally agreed. "No, buddy, it's probably not good."

Tim was silent as he wheeled himself back around to the side of the table his father was on.

"I…" he started slowly, almost hesitantly. "I still think they're coming back."

Clark stopped working and knelt down beside Tim's chair so they could talk eye to eye. "Yeah?"

Tim nodded. "Yeah. I know it's not a good reason, but… Bruce pinky promised me they'd be back. And… I trust him to not break that promise."

Clark smiled softly and ruffled Tim's hair before pulling him in for a hug.

Yyyyy

"Today's the day, buddy." Clark stated, sitting down on the edge of the dock cross legged.

"Days a day!" Damian babbled back to him excitedly.

Clark set the pup on his lap and readied his fishing pole.

Iris, Wally, and Dick liked hunting in the open ocean together, so Clark had started making the most of the small amount of time the lagoon sat empty each day.

"That's right." Clark set the tackle box to the side and let Damian grab hold of the bottom of the pole, the two of them casting out the line together. "Today's the day. We're going to catch a fish, and then we're going to eat the fish."

"Fish fish." Damian copied Clark's hands on the fishing pole very seriously, making sure they were lined up just like his dad's.

"That's right, buddy. Fish-," Clark trailed off suddenly, having seen something.

He was caught so off guard that he only noticed the fishing pole had slipped from his hands when Damian whined and tried to jump down after it.

There, on the deck of his boat, was a large, muddy rock that looked like it had been taken from the bottom of the lagoon.

"Papa?"

Clark distantly heard Damian's voice, but was too focused on the rock. Moving his pup to a better position so he could stand, Clark hopped up on the deck and picked up the rock.

There was only one mer who'd ever left him a rock.

Or, as he'd called it, 'weird ocean shit'.

"Jay?"

Chapter Text

"Papa?" Damian tried again to get his dad's attention, but Clark hardly registered that he'd heard him.

"Jason?" He called, straightening up and looking around.

The lagoon was still.

Or, as still as it ever got while the tide was in.

He strained his ears to hear anything, but aside from the small waves and the rustling of leaves and branches, all was silent.

"Bruce?"

He hopped back off the boat and hurried over to the corner of the lagoon where they kept the water heaters.

He saw boulders.

A few branches.

The heaters themselves.

There!

Seated on the sandy shore, gazing out past the inlet at the sunrise, was Jason.

His tail was submerged, but other than the minute movement of the water against his fins, he sat still.

"Jason..?" Clark was almost unsure if he was really seeing Jason, or if it was just some cruel trick of the light.

But at the sound of his name, Jason turned and saw him.

"Dad-,"

Clark didn't remember moving.

He didn't remember running over or kneeling down or grabbing his son and hugging him tight.

He just knew that, after so long, after all the uncertainty and worry, he was back.

He was alive.

He was safe.

Jason hugged him back just as tight, as if he was afraid that if he let go Clark would be the one to vanish.

"Oh, my god. Oh, my god, Jason." When Clark was finally able to let go, he immediately switched to checking Jason over for any injuries, having to use only one hand as his other one was still cradling Damian to his chest. "Are you okay? Are you hurt? Where are the others?"

"I'm… I'm fine. Clark, I'm fine. Barry swam out to the harbor to see if he could find anyone, and Bruce is taking a nap over there." Jason pointed a little further up the bank where Clark was just able to see a tail tip floating in the water between a boulder and one of the heaters.

Clark then looked around again. "What about Cass?"

Jason closed his eyes and hung his head.

"Oh, no. Oh, Jay, I'm so sorry." Clark sat beside him, rubbing his back.

"We were too late." Jason whispered, picking up Damian, who was very excitedly trying to reach out to him. "By the time we got there, someone had come through and…" he trailed off, hugging Damian closer as the pup demanded his attention.

"Were any of you hurt?"

Jason shook his head. "No. They were long gone by the time we made it there. But the trip was pretty rough on Bruce. He swears he's fine, but… you know how he is."

Clark, pressing a kiss to Jason's temple, rose and walked over to where Bruce was sleeping.

The large mer had lost weight and some color in both his skin and scales.

He was asleep, head pillowed on one of his arms, and rolling slightly in the current.

It had taken Clark a while to get used to the sight that was his family asleep under the water, but he still had moments where he had to consciously prevent himself from diving in to save them from drowning.

This was one of those times.

Instead, Clark waded into the water and knelt down, brushing a hand down Bruce's cheek.

Bruce's eyelids fluttered open and he gazed up at Clark through the water, slightly dazed for a moment.

"Welcome back, sweetheart."

Bruce closed his eyes and sluggishly rolled over so that he could push himself up using his forearms.

"I'm glad to be home. You have no idea." He pulled himself up to the shore and flopped down, voice hoarse.

Clark sat down beside him and helped Bruce move over so that Bruce was partially laying across his lap.

The two of them then took each other's hands and laced their fingers together.

Bruce let out a sigh of contentment, allowing himself to relax and sink into his boyfriend's warmth.

Clark, not releasing his hands, bent forward and hugged Bruce tight, still needing to convince himself that this was real.

"Please don't ever leave again." He whispered.

Bruce, though it was awkward thanks to their positions, hugged him back. "Please don't ever let me leave again." He whispered.

Clark chuckled and kissed Bruce before pulling back. "Deal."

Bruce sighed and closed his eyes, relaxing into his position.

Clark brushed the mer's hair back from his face and rested a hand on his forehead in concern. Mers had a much lower temperature than humans, so it was always hard to tell, but he was pretty sure Bruce was running a low fever.

"Jason told me what you found." He gently smoothed Bruce's hair back, running his fingers through the strands and taking mental stock of the state he was in. "I'm so sorry."

Bruce sighed and stayed quiet.

He had lost weight, and his tail was starting to fade again. Thankfully, it wasn't as bad as it had gotten back when they'd lost Jason, but it was still concerning.

"How… how did things go here?" Bruce finally asked, obviously not ready to talk about his trip.

"Eh…"

Where did he start?

"'Eh' what? What's 'eh'?" Bruce frowned up at him.

"I… well…"

Oh, screw it.

Clark bowed his head, resting his against Bruce's, holding Bruce's hands firmly.

"I can't do this without you." He confessed. "I tried. I… Bruce, we haven't been apart for more than a day in the past twelve years. I tried to hold us all together, but so much just kept going wrong."

He opened his eyes at the feeling of Bruce letting go of one of his hands and caressing his cheek.

"I missed you so much."

Clark breathed out a soft laugh and took Bruce's hand, kissing it.

"I missed you, too, Bruce."

Theu would have enough time later to talk and catch up.

But for now, they were content to just hold each other, watching the sun as it rose

Chapter Text

"What are you doing?"

Clark raised his head and grinned mischievously, but didn't otherwise respond.

"Clark, I'm serious. What is that?"

Bruce's voice was soft and lethargic, as he had definitely gotten sick due to the long trip, but he was still resting on the shore watching as Clark hauled a small air mattress over from the boat.

"So," he started, laying it out and attaching a manual bike pump to it, "I completely forgot I had this, and I have no idea if it will hold air or float, but when I bought my boat, Pa would only let me take it out on the water if I had some sort of life raft."

"Did that have anything to do with the fact that you couldn't swim?" Bruce grinned.

"Quite possibly." Clark grinned back before resuming filling the mattress. "But, being a teenager with no money, who had just spent his life savings on not only a boat but also all the parts and tools we needed to fix it, I couldn't exactly afford a life raft. So I went to the hardware store and got the next best thing."

"Baby, what are you doing?"

"You'll see. And you'll like it." Clark detached the pump and closed the valve, moving the mattress into the water.

"What is that?"

"It's an air mattress."

"And… what's it for?" Bruce pressed.

Clark sat on a boulder and pulled off his boots and then his socks. "It's for me to float on."

"Clark, I love you. I do. But I'm tired and I feel like shit. I'm not in the mood for twenty quest…ions." Bruce trailed off, confused as Clark casually came over and lifted him, laying him down on the mattress.

Clark climbed on the floatation device with Bruce, kicking off the shore lightly. "Here, lay back." He opened his arms and the mer, smiling and catching onto what his plan was, did so.

Bruce lay across Clark's torso, letting his tail hang off the end of the mattress and float in the heated water while the two of them were able to just cuddle.

The air mattress was able to hold their combined weight, though it dipped a bit low in the water.

That was okay, though. Clark was just happy his plan was working.

The motion of the waves and the coziness of their positions soon lulled Bruce to sleep, his head tucked into Clark's shoulder.

Clark had called Leslie and Alfred to let them know that the search party was back and that Bruce would be home-bound for a bit, and they had both mentioned that sleeping 'otter-style' was a good way to help mers recover.

He might not have had the ability to keep the both of them afloat, but he could figure out the next best thing.

Clark smiled as Bruce adjusted his position slightly, snoring ever so softly, and wrapped his arms around Bruce's waist to keep him securely in place.

Yyyyy

Over the next several days, both Barry's pod and the lagoon pod focused on just resting and recovering.

Barry, Iris, Wally, and Dick were staying in the lagoon until Jay and Bart returned from the rest of their migration, and then they would all be leaving again.

Lois and Jimmy, both extatic and relieved that they were all alive, would be up that weekend to see everyone.

Tim had closed the stand down until further notice, though Clark had seen he and Steph exchange phone numbers so they could keep in touch.

But, despite being as happy as they all were, they all felt the sting of failure.

The guilt of not having been fast enough to save Cass, but none felt it as bad as Jason.

After he'd been thrown overboard by the poachers who had taken him, he'd been lost, scared, and confused.

Talia's pod had offered food and safety from humans, but that had been all they provided him.

Safety from other mers had come in the form of Cass.

As had friendship.

Camaraderie.

Food, at times.

The two of them had considered each other siblings for five years.

And Jason blamed himself for her loss.

He was quiet.

Withdrawn.

Not wanting to interact with his family or their guests.

And so they allowed him his space.

They all caught themselves hovering occasionally.

But they tried their best to give him space.

Yyyyy

"It's okay. It's okay, Dami. Shh, shh. You're okay." Bruce, looking only slightly more rested after days of being stuck in the water heater side of the lagoon, held Damian to his chest, desperately trying to calm him.

No matter what he did, though, their toddler just kept screaming and crying, tiny fists balled up in fury.

"Damian, please." Bruce begged, swinging his tail out in front of him so that he could float on his back.

The change in positions did nothing to help.

Clark, having heard the commotion from his boat where he'd been getting the details of the trip from Barry, hurried over to help.

Bruce reluctantly handed their son over, and Clark was able to watch his face fall when Damian almost immediately began settling down.

"He still-,"

"Yeah." Bruce cut off Clark's attempt at reassuring him, pretending that the obvious favoritism wasn't noticed.

Or painful.

"I, um, I don't even know what set him off. I was just trying to feed him breakfast."

"Oh. Yeah. I, uh, I guess we did forget to… fill you in on that."

Bruce raised an eyebrow. "'That'? Did something happen?"

"Yeah. Um. Damian… doesn't eat… meat."

"What do you mean? I thought we were working on weaning him off the formula when I left."

"We were. And he was doing great. And then he saw us kill a fish and we haven't been able to get him to eat meat since. We've tried hiding it in his food, covering the scent, even bribing him. He wouldn't even touch Ma's food."

"He's a baby-,"

"I know. We've got him on a diet now that uses an algae supplement so he's still getting the nutrients he needs, but that hasn't made him any less stubborn."

Bruce looked back down at Damian, who was now happily chewing on Clark's hand.

"He's… he's not even two."

"Yeah. I'm not looking forward to his teenage years."

Bruce grimaced. "And we thought Tim would be our problem child."

That made Clark pause. "Speaking of which,"

"Oh, no."

"No, no. It… it's nothing bad. I just… well, when you're feeling better, you and I are going to have to figure out how to give him the Talk."

"The Talk? He's only… oh, my god, he's thirteen." Bruce closed his eyes and pressed his hands to his face.

"Yeah. He's thirteen. And he's also got a little friend who's been hanging out with him for the past few months."

"A friend?"

Clark nodded. "A girl."

Bruce nodded absently, appearing to be thinking hard. "Okay. Um. Did… have… have you talked to him?"

"I tried. I got as far as sitting him down and telling him that getting older means he's going to have more things he's responsible for."

Bruce nodded again. "Okay. Okay, that's good. And?"

"And then I put him in charge of his own bedtime."

"And then you put him in charge of his own bedtime." Bruce let himself sink a little lower in the water, hands once again covering his face.

"I panicked." He admitted, pulling Sheep out of his pocket so that Damian could have something to teethe on that wasn't his hand. "I realized partway through that I didn't know what to say. I mean, I'm not a mer. Or straight, for that matter."

"Well, I am a mer. And could you ask your parents for advice? I assume they've got experience in both being straight and raising a kid of a different sexuality."

"Eh…"

"'Eh' again? What's 'eh' now?"

"I did ask Pa. Ma made him talk to me as a teen because we're both guys. He says he doesn't remember what he said, but he knows it must have been good." Clark took a deep breath before continuing. He loved his parents dearly, but apparently being a grown father of four wasn't enough to save him from even more of the dad jokes that had haunted his childhood. "Because I made it all the way to adulthood without ever getting someone pregnant."

Bruce snorted a laugh. "I mean, he's not wrong."

Clark couldn't help but laugh as well. "My point is, my parents did the best they could with what little information was available at the time. I eventually figured things out on my own, but I'd rather Tim not have to do that."

Bruce nodded in agreement. "Yeah. Good idea. By the way, exactly how long has Damian had that toy? Because I'm pretty sure I see what caused our little vegatarian problem."

Chapter Text

Damian happily splashed around in the shallow water, chasing some small fish that had gathered there. He was able to swim well enough without the floaty, but his dads were still seated just a few feet away in case he needed a hand.

Bruce held up Sheep, examining the stitching and repairs.

"Timmy made this?"

Clark bobbed his head. "Ma's sewing lessons really paid off."

"They did. I'm impressed."

"So… how does Sheep play into Damian becoming a vegetarian?"

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but he's been playing with this in the water, right?"

"That's right."

"Pups, especially those being raised without any siblings their age, tend to see their toys as friends, rather than inanimate objects."

It was like a switch flicked on in Clark's head, allowing him to suddenly see the problem.

"So he learned to associate 'small thing in the water' with fun rather than food."

"And you said you killed a fish he'd been chasing?"

"We thought he was hungry and trying to hunt it. Is there a way to fix this?"

Bruce nodded. "Yeah. It'll just take some patience. He's a toddler, so he shouldn't be too hard to-,"

"Bruce. Baby. Sweetheart. This is Damian."

Bruce looked over and watched their son playing in the shallows, a slightly pained look of resignation taking over his face. "You're right. We're going to need to stock up on more of that algae."

Clark closed his eyes and nodded in agreement.

Yyyyy

Almost a week had passed since their return before Jason really initiated any conversation.

Bruce and Barry had filled Clark in on the carnage they had arrived to find, and Clark felt sick just hearing the stories.

The Deathstroke pod had been swift and relentless, but the Al-Ghul pod hadn't gone down without a fight.

Bruce, Jason, and Barry had arrived long after the fight had ended and any survivors had fled.

They'd stayed for a day, searching for Cass.

They hadn't found her.

"I'm sorry for getting Bruce sick." Jason whispered, silently pulling himself out of the water and up onto a boulder at the shoreline.

Clark, trying to get one of the water heaters working again by the light of a headlamp, frowned at him.

Bruce was currently zonked out, floating on the air mattress, while Barry's reunited pod, Dick, Tim, and Damian were sleeping deeper in the lagoon. Clark's campsite was a little ways up from the water, just close enough to have heard the heater die.

"Jason, no. Bruce is an adult. You're not responsible for his decisions."

Jason, scales making his bottom half invisible save for his white fin tips, gazed over at Bruce for a minute, and then slid down from the rock and curled up beside Clark, leaning against him and handing him tools as Clark worked.

"I wish he wasn't so protective. I mean… I love him, you know? But… I saw how hard the trip was on him. I could see him growing weaker."

Clark accepted a flathead screwdriver and removed a few screws, handing them over to Jason to hold.

"He loves you, too. That's why he went. He already lost you once, and it… he took it really hard." Clark dug further into the machine. "There was no way he was going to let you go again."

Jason rested his head on Clark's shoulder. "Do you think… I could talk? Just like… about Cass? What she was like?"

Clark sat back and faced Jason, getting comfortable on a flat rock.

"Of course, buddy."

Yyyyy

"Hey, I need to talk to you two."

Dick, not even a full day later, kept his voice low and Clark could very clearly hear the slightly panicked waver in it, which was concerning.

Glancing at Bruce, who had just finished tucking Damian into his hammock, he saw that his boyfriend had picked up on the same thing.

"What's wrong? Are you okay?" Bruce asked, worried and scooting closer to their son, helping him up onto the dock.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Just… listen. Something… something big is going to be happening. And, it's not a bad thing, but it's still, you know, big. It's a big deal. We didn't want to say anything to you right away because we didn't want to pile too much on you at once."

Clark, already knowing Dick and Wally's 'big news', felt his heart rate quicken.

"Okay." Bruce replied slowly. "What's the news?"

"Like I said, we weren't planning on telling you right away, but," Dick continued, making eye contact with Clark.

Clark, who was desperately, desperately trying to keep his face neutral. And failing miserably. He was already grinning like an idiot. His only saving grace was that Bruce was focused on Dick.

"Well, something changed. And… now I get to tell you that you and Clark are going to be grandparents. Wally and I have decided to adopt, and we just got matched with a pup. This is… I mean, we're excited. We're ecstatic. But we also thought we'd have more time to prepare, so I'm also kind of freaking out right now. Is… is this how you felt when you took me in?"

"Okay, Dickie? Take a deep breath. Just breathe, alright?" Clark put a hand on his shoulder. "You're right. This is big, exciting news, but you're getting pale. You need to breathe."

Dick nodded, sitting back and trying to calm himself down.

That lasted all of two deep breaths before Bruce practically tackled Dick with a hug.

And then suddenly Dick was laughing and smiling, hugging Bruce back.

Clark watched them celebrate for a moment before he joined in as well, unable to help himself.

He might have known ahead of time, but finding out together that they were about to be grandparents?

That their family was growing?

That their son was about to become a father?

Clark couldn't have been happier.

"Okay." Bruce sat back, his smaller fins fluttering excitedly. "Give me all the details. What happened? What do you mean something changed?"

Dick laughed, wiping tears from his eyes. "Wally and I have been talking about pups for a while now and… well, we're sure. We're going to be rejoining his pod so that we can have help, but we… we only just finished completing the process. They told us we might have to wait for a while and, since we're migratory, we have to periodically find a phone and call our social worker to check in."

"Yeah?" Clark encouraged.

Dick nodded. "Yeah. We just went out to Leslie's clinic to see if she could walk us through a check in call and… they have a pup they want to place with us. A boy. He's… he's at a clinic in Jump city, so we'll be able to meet him towards the other end of our migration. Wally's telling his pod now, too." Dick blinked and rubbed more tears from his eyes. "Nothing's completely guaranteed, we still need to meet him, but…" He was having an increasingly difficult time holding it together and finally broke, crying and letting his dads gather him in another hug.

"You've got time to wrap your head around this, Dickie. It's a major change, but you're going to be a great dad." Bruce rubbed his back comfortingly.

"I'm going to be a dad." Dick choked out, giddy through the tears.

"You're going to be a dad." Clark confirmed.

The three sat on the dock, crying, laughing, and hugging each other long after the last rays of light had dipped below the horizon.

Chapter Text

"Hey, Tim. Come here for a second." Clark called over the sound of the ATV.

It had been three years.

"What?" Tim called back, cutting the engine.

Three years since Tim had run the farm stand with Stephanie, prompting them to keep it up all year and find ways to expand it.

"Come over here for a second. I've got something to show you."

Three years since Jason had started working with a salvage ship down in the harbor, cleaning up the ocean to protect the family he still had.

"What is it?" Tim called, sliding down from the ATV and using his arms to drag himself the short distance back to the water.

Three years since Damian had officially gotten his way and became a vegetarian and, though his fathers did still offer him fish or other meat on occasion, he'd remained resolute.

Clark waited until Tim was close before he lifted his eight year old grandson out of the water and on top of a boulder, allowing him to get a good aim at his uncle with his squirt gun.

Tim laughed and shielded his face with his hands, diving under the water and flicking his tail.

He cut easily through the water to them and climbed up onto the boulder as well to give the pup a hug.

"Victor! Did you guys just get back?"

"Yeah." Victor laughed, hugging Tim back.

Clark smiled at the two of them.

It had been three years since he, Bruce, their pups, and all four of the grandparents had gathered around a computer in the low tide pool behind Leslie and Alfred's clinic, waiting for a call from Dick and Wally.

The area was basically a fenced in, paved ramp that led out to the ocean, allowing mer who were mostly recovered to get reintroduced to swimming in the ocean, so the younger pups had played and splashed about excitedly until the call had come in.

They had all rushed to answer, hearts collectively dropping for a moment when Dick came on screen and they saw he'd been crying, only to then see his bright, wide smile as he announced, "He's ours."

It had been three years since Clark had officially become a grandfather, and yet he still couldn't believe it.

"You actually got me that time. I take it you've been practicing?" Tim took the water gun from the pup and checked the water level, 'accidentally' spraying Clark.

Victor grinned confidently and shrugged like it was no big deal. "Yeah. I even managed to get Uncle Bart yesterday."

The pup had, unfortunately, lost his pod to a freak accident when he was very young.

Victor had been found in such a horrible condition that it had taken several surgeries before his doctors were confident he'd survive.

And, even at that, he'd still been left navigating life and a full migration with several prosthetics. His tailfin and most of his other fins, save for his dorsal, were made of durable rubber and secured to him via a fairly intricate brace, allowing him to move without too much difficulty.

His left arm was also entirely prosthetic, as was his left eye.

Having only one eye meant that aiming and depth perception were a struggle for him, making hunting a near impossible task, but his Great-Grandpa Jonathan had built a toy chest filled with things he could use to practice with.

The water gun was his favorite toy, though, and he'd even convinced his dads to let him take it on migration with them.

And yet, despite all he'd been through, Victor was still an energetic, cocky, adventurous, pup.

"Grandpa!"

The shout came too late to serve as any kind of useful warning as a smaller, bright green-tailed pup barreled right into Clark, knocking him over.

Clark went under and, though he was able to regain his footing fairly quickly, thanks to Tim, he was still coughing up water when he stood back up.

"Sorry!" Five year old Garfield, being held back by his big brother, looked really guilty.

"Garfield." Wally hurriedly swam over, Bruce and Jason right behind him.

"Sorry, Papa. I didn't mean to."

"I'm not the one you should be apologizing to." Wally crossed his arms, sternly scolding the pup. "You know you can't be playing that rough with Grandpa."

Clark, about to say that it was alright and he'd handled rowdy pups before plenty of times, found himself at a loss for words.

'You know you can't be playing that rough with Grandpa.'

He…

"I'm sorry. Are you okay?" Garfield swam back up to Clark, slower this time, and gave him a tight hug.

"I'm fine, buddy." Clark assured, picking him up for a hug. "Don't worry."

He was just suddenly slapped in the face with his own mortality.

No big deal.

"Hey, Clark. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say it like that. I just meant that he should be careful. Mers are a lot stronger than humans and he needs to realize his own strength."

"Where's Dick?" Bruce looked around, waving over Iris, Barry, and Jay. Bart was currently migrating with another pod they knew well, spending time with Jaime, another mer his age.

"He's waiting just outside the inlet. But first, before he comes in, we do have a bit of an announcement."

"Wait, 'announcement' like the last one?" Tim looked down at Victor, who nodded.

"Yes. Dick and I were planning to close our pod off for the time being, as the boys keep us busy enough, but they needed an emergency foster, so we made an exception."

"What do you mean by 'emergency foster'?" Clark asked, lowering Garfield back into the water, only to lift him up again when Damian suddenly lunged at him. "Damian, stop it!"

"I mean have you heard of Trigon? The big, red mer who's been sinking ships?"

"Yeah? I've been editing pieces about him all week."

"Yeah, well, apparently this whole time he's had a daughter. A fisherman reeled her in with a catch one day and she asked for help. The police are telling Trigon they have her, in the hope that he'll be willing to surrender, but they need someplace safe for her to stay while all of this is going on."

"So you're like witness protection? Like on tv?" Tim asked, face falling slightly as he looked around and realized that no one was laughing. "Oh, wait. You're serious?"

"Yeah." Wally nodded. "Her name's Rachel. I'll go get her."

Chapter Text

Rachel didn't like them.

That much was unfortunately fairly obvious.

Iris, Jay, and Barry said their goodbyes and headed out to the harbor, both to give Rachel some space, and also to meet up with Bart before he and Jaime's pod headed out

She was seven years old, though somehow much smaller than Victor, who was eight, and she had on a dark blue, hooded cloak to help keep her hidden, as they still didn't know where Trigon was.

Under the cloak, they were able to see her dark, piercing eyes, glaring wearily at them all.

She stayed pressed firmly against Dick as the pair swam closer, the tip of her bright red tail standing out starkly against his blue.

"Hi, Rachel." Bruce waved, ducking his head to be more on her level.

She growled viciously and jerked back, hitting Dick in the chest as she did so.

"Hey, whoa. Take it easy. You're okay." Dick did his best to calm her. "You're okay. This is my family. You'll be safe here. They're not going to hurt you."

Rachel didn't look even remotely convinced, and instead just growled lowly at Dick.

"It looks like she's a bit overwhelmed with meeting so many new people all at once." Clark commented.

Her eyes darted around to each of them rapidly, and she seemed to have attached herself to her foster father out of just needing something to hold onto, rather than anything else.

"Yeah. We were told it might take her a while to warm up to us." Wally agreed. "Just go slow and give her space."

"Come on, Rachel. Do you want to introduce yourself?" Dick coaxed, but she once again just growled at him.

"Raven." She growled, voice low.

"I'm sorry?"

"Raven." She repeated, enunciating the two syllables. "I hate Rachel."

"Well, I think it's a great name." Dick tried, but they could all see that she was stressed and unhappy.

"Hey, I've got an idea." Clark decided that it might be a good time to change the subject and get some of the attention off of the little pup. "Who'd like a treat? A new coffee stand just opened up in town. They have sodas and milkshakes, too."

"I'll go with you." Tim volunteered, swimming over to his ATV.

"How's soda sound? Have you ever had it?" Dick looked down at Rachel again. "Do you have any flavors you'd like?"

Rachel shrugged but didn't have the chance to actually respond, because Garfield, excited and not watching where he was going, barreled right into her.

Instantly, she whipped around, lashing out and splashing her tail hard at the smallest pup.

Garfield yelped and retreated to the safety of his big brother as Dick quickly grabbed Rachel and moved her to the other side of him, putting himself in between her and the boys.

Instantly, she whacked him with her tail darting away and hiding in a root system of a nearby tree.

"Are you alright?" Wally asked, checking Dick's arm where she'd gotten him.

"I'm fine. Gar? Come here, kiddo." Dick moved to check on their youngest while Wally took over with Rachel, making sure to keep his distance as he assured her that she wasn't in trouble and made sure she was alright as well.

Rachel just growled at him.

Yyyyy

"There goes peace and quiet." Tim joked, pulling on his tail cover. "Dick and Wally are gonna have their hands full."

"Hm? Oh, yeah. I know." Clark replied, somewhat distracted. He held out his arm to give Tim a hand climbing into the passenger seat of the truck and patted his pocket, making sure he had his wallet.

"Dad? Are you alright?"

"Yeah." Clark climbed into the driver's seat and started the engine. "I'm fine. Just thinking."

Tim nodded. "About what Wally said? You know you're not that old, right?"

Clark chuckled. "I know, buddy. But thanks."

"Then what is it? Do you think Rachel might be too much for Dick and Wally to handle?"

"No." He steered them out of the driveway and onto the road, heading to town. "I was just thinking about how similar she is to Dick when we first got him."

Tim laughed in disbelief. "I'm sorry. Dick? The same guy who once pouted for a whole week when he found out that wild rabbits didn't trust him enough to let him pet them?"

"I'm talking about when he first came to live with us. He was… well, he was a lot like her. Scared. Angry. Confrontational. He's come a long way since then, but hopefully he'll be just what Rachel needs."

They reached the coffee stand and Clark pulled into the line, grabbing the paper out of his pocket where he'd written down all of their orders.

Tim frowned. "I knew you and Bruce took Dick in after his parents were killed, but it's still hard to wrap my mind around… imagining him like that. He was really like Rachel?"

Clark nodded, moving up a space as the line moved. "Yeah. That wasn't a happy time for him."

"Hm." Tim hummed. "I know you guys had a whole life before I came around, but it's still hard to imagine. I've only ever known him as my cheerful, obnoxious big brother."

They moved up another space.

"And I mean, yeah, he can be a bit of a jerk at times, but the way she swung her tail at Gar? If he was closer he'd have gotten hurt."

"Yeah. But keep in mind, she doesn't look at him and see a brother. He swam into her. He caught her off guard. She wasn't being aggressive when she went after him. She was being defensive. Dick was the same way with me. He lost his parents to a poacher. A human with a boat. And then Bruce found him and brought him to the lagoon, where I was. And to him, I was just another human with a boat. He growled, splashed me, threw things at me, threatened and cursed at me anytime I'd get close."

"Dick?"

"Yeah. Well, keep in mind, you only met him after he'd been living with us for years. He'd calmed down and figured I wasn't going to hurt him by that point."

"Is it kinda weird? Seeing how much he's changed over the years?"

Clark moved up another space and smiled. "I think if you'd have told me back then what he'd be like now I wouldn't have believed you. But now? Looking back on how far he's come? How far all you kids have come? Nah. It's not weird. I'm proud, of course. But Dickie's been where Rachel's at now. I think if anyone can help her, he can."

Tim nodded and Clark watched him frown and start counting on his fingers.

"What are you counting?"

"Hm? Oh. I was just doing the mental math."

"On what?"

"You and Bruce were together for a year when you took in Dick. And he was your first kid. Where Dick and Wally have been together for years, and they've been parents for three years now."

"You think Dickie's going to be better at parenting Rachel than I was with him?"

"I'm just pointing out he's got more experience."

Clark grinned and shook his head at the mockery coming from his son.

"I'll have you know, I've got plenty of experience."

"Yeah, now you do. Grandpa."

"What was that? You said you wanted to pay?"

"No, I called you old. But if that's what you heard, then maybe your hearing really is going."

"One day." Clark shook his head. "One day, you'll have your own kids. And one of them will be just like you."

"What, smart, inventive, and completely adorable?"

The line moved up again, but Clark needed a moment to close his eyes and pinch the bridge of his nose, trying not to laugh.

Chapter Text

It had been a while since Clark had thought back on his and Bruce's first meeting, but he'd gotten a lot of reminders in such a short period of time.

He couldn't believe it had been… sixteen years ago.

Bruce had been in his life for sixteen years.

"Oof! Hey, watch where you're going."

Clark blinked and looked over at Timmy.

Their drinks were going to take a while so Clark had parked nearby, close enough that they could hear when the barista called them, and Tim had wanted his wheelchair to wander around the grassy area of the parking lot as they waited, so he could pet the dogs people were walking there.

A young man, maybe in his late teens or early twenties, backed up a step. "Sorry. Sorry, I didn't see you there."

He apologized quickly and walked over to the stand to order from the window, and Clark, though he didn't mean to, found himself staring.

The kid was obviously from out of town, based off his appearance alone.

He had dark, round sunglasses that he wore on top of his head, dark, curled hair that had been shaved into an undercut, and several gauged piercings in both ears. He also had a guitar case slung over his shoulder.

All in all, he stood out more than people usually did in a small, farming town.

"Hey, ma'am? Can I pet your dog?" Tim had apparently shrugged off the encounter and was continuing his mission to pet each and every dog being walked.

"Here you go, sir. Have a great day." Clark heard the barista say.

"Thank you. By the way, if you've got a second, I'm looking for someone-,"

"I'm so sorry, but I don't really have the time to talk at the moment. We've got a rather large order that we're trying to get out."

The young man deflated slightly, but took his two drinks and walked away, shoving a piece of paper back into his jacket pocket.

Just as he was passing by, Clark reached out and tapped his arm.

"Hey. Do you need help finding someone?"

The kid hesitated, looking at him like he couldn't decide if he wanted to say anything or not, but ultimately pulled the paper back out of his pocket. "Yeah. I, uh, I'm in town trying to find my bio dad. His name's-,"

"Conner!"

The kid stopped and turned.

Across the street at the gas station, looking around like he was searching for someone, was another young man.

He was thin, blond, and also appeared to have been from out of town.

"Conner!" He called again.

"Over here!" Conner called back, waving. He then turned back to Clark. "Um, thanks anyway, but I've got to go."

"Are you sure? I've lived in Smallville my whole life. If you're looking for someone-,"

"Thanks." Conner cut him off. "But… I don't know. To tell the truth, I'm not even sure I *want* to find him, y'know?"

He then ducked his head and walked away before Clark could respond.

Yyyyy

"Hey, Tim. Would you like to go to 'Bring Your Kid to Work' day?"

Tim, carefully balancing two drink carriers on his lap, flashed a quizzical look at his father. "Didn't you *just* get done with that piece on child labor laws?"

"It's not like that. I won't be putting you to work. You'll just be allowed to come with me and see what I do."

"I… do see what you do? And the Daily Planet is in Metropolis."

"Yeah, but we've traveled distances before and have ways to keep you hydrated. And the building is wheelchair accessible. Plus, you'll get to see Lois and Jimmy, as well."

"Hmm. That sounds like it could be fun. Do you think Bruce will let me?"

"Well, we'll have to ask him, but I'm sure he'll be alright with it."

Tim nodded. "Especially since it will mean there's less people here. That should make things easier on Rachel. Is that why you want me to go with you?"

Clark hesitated, steering extra carefully back into their driveway so nothing spilled. As it was, Tim was already balancing eight drinks in the two holders, while his own and Clark's were in the truck's drink holder.

"Not exactly. I… may have an ulterior motive."

Welp, that got Tim's attention.

"Ulterior motive? Like what? Do you need a mer for some sort of-, wait. No. If you need a mer for help with something water related, Jason would be the better choice. Given the whole 'can't swim beyond the lagoon' thing I've got going."

"No. I would like your help, but it's got nothing to do with you being a mer."

"Okay, then, what's up?"

Clark pulled the truck to a stop. "This is just between you and me, okay?"

Tim nodded. "Okay."

"I… I want your help picking out an engagement ring."

Tim's eyes grew wide.

"I'm going to ask Bruce to marry me."

Chapter Text

"Rachel, here you go-,"

"Ra-ven." She insisted, fading into a low growl. "Already told you. I hate Rachel."

Clark blinked and hesitated, still holding out her drink to her. He'd chosen a blackberry Italian soda, as she hadn't requested anything.

She seemed to have had this argument several times in the past, and, as she was still extremely skittish around them, he was inclined to apologize and switch to her nickname.

But, at the same time, he didn't know her.

He didn't know her history, or if there was some reason people had kept calling her Rachel.

He had experience with angry, defensive kids, but Dick and Wally were the ones who were ultimately in charge of her.

Unsure of how he should proceed, Clark decided to just forgo the name altogether for the moment. He could pull one of her foster fathers aside later to figure out how he should refer to her, but they were currently both trying to get Damian and Garfield to stop fighting.

"Would you like to try your soda? I got you blackberry."

Her eyes flickered down to the drink, and he could see she did want it.

She just also wasn't coming any closer.

He thought for a moment, held up a conspiratorial 'wait one second' finger, stood, and retrieved a little arm float that they'd used to help Damian learn to swim.

It took a bit of maneuvering, but he eventually was able to set the device in the water, gently pushing it over to her.

She caught it and, with a cautious look at him again, took a small taste.

Her eyes widened slightly and all of her attention was suddenly on the drink, swimming back to a low root system so she could rest her arms on it and didn't have to struggle with floating and drinking at the same time.

Clark smiled as he watched her savor her treat.

"I can't help but notice that you left with Tim, and came back down alone." Jason, pulling himself up on the dock beside Clark, commented in a lightly teasing tone. "Was our order really that much?"

"Hm?"

"Did you trade Tim?"

"No, I did not trade your brother." Clark chuckled, shoving Jason's shoulder as the mer grinned.

Tim had just been left with Ma and Pa, along with a heads up of what was going on at the lagoon and to not come down to visit until Rachel was more accustomed to them.

They didn't tell them about the other thing they'd discussed.

Tim knew not to mention Clark's plan, but he was too excited at the moment to be around Bruce with a straight face.

Speaking of Bruce…

Clark looked around and spotted him ducked behind a tree, Victor on his back, sneaking up on Dick, Wally, Damian, and Garfield.

Clark nudged Jason and pointed at what was about to happen, and the two of them were able to watch as the large mer crept close enough for his grandson to take aim and hit three of their four targets.

Wally, being the only one quick enough to avoid the attack, laughed at Dick's surprised expression and Damian's betrayed and offended one.

Yeah.

Clark was sure.

He was going to marry Bruce.

He'd been sure a long time ago, but it had never seemed like the 'right' time.

Bruce deserved the right time.

The perfect moment.

A breathtaking sunset and the promise of a beautiful forever after.

But a fairytale happy ending wasn't something he could give.

It wasn't something he could promise.

As much as he wanted to, all he would be able to do was his best.

And Bruce would have his best.

Yyyyy

Two days (and a minor change of plans) later, Clark led Tim through the automatic doors of the Daily Planet.

Tim had on his tail cover, which would help him not dry out as fast, and a red, checkered shirt. They would be driving down to Metropolis's floating market on Clark's lunch break to meet up with Dick and Rachel, who were swimming down from Smallville.

Bruce had been a bit hesitant to let Tim go on such a long trip, but Dick and Wally had suggested that it would be a good chance to give Rachel a break from having so many people around her all at once.

And, hopefully, she'd be able to bond with one of her foster parents a bit more.

"Wow. This place is huge." Tim gazed around in awe, tilting his head back to see up the large staircase they were passing.

"Biggest building you've ever been in, huh?"

"Yeah." Tim then gasped. "Wait. Are we going to ride the elevator?" He was nearly bouncing in excitement.

"Well, I don't know." Clark pretended to think. "Do you *really* want see more than the first floor?"

"Oh, come on!"

"Alright, alright. I'm kidding. Come to think of it, this will be your first time in an elevator, won't it?"

Tim, smile splitting his face, nodded. "Yeah. I mean, the one we've got installed in the lagoon is kinda janky."

"Smart-ass."

"Fish-brain."

They reached the metal double doors and Clark hit the button to open them, letting Tim maneuver his chair into the elevator. It was a bit more difficult than he'd expected, given the gap in the floor, but being from a farming town meant he'd had to handle some less-than-ideal floors in the past.

Once they were both in, Clark scanned his ID badge and showed Tim which button to press to take them to the third floor.

The doors slid shut and they started to ascend, and Tim quickly grabbed onto Clark's arm.

"It feels weird, doesn't it?"

"Yup. Don't know if I like it."

Clark smiled and put a comforting hand on Tim's head. "Well, the ride's almost over. And then you'll get to see where I work."

"You mean besides on your laptop?" Tim teased, though with a bit less of the excitement he'd had before.

"Fine. You'll get to see where I work when I'm working in person."

The elevator slowed to a stop and, with a cheery 'ding!', the doors slid open.

Chapter Text

"Uncle Jimmy!" Tim wheeled away from Clark, fearlessly making his way past the large, bay windows, overlooking the floating market.

Clark watched Tim and Jimmy greet each other and start talking excitedly about something, and then turned to look out the window.

The floating market, where they would be meeting up with Dick and Rachel, took up a massive portion of the harbor and was run almost entirely by long fin mers from local pods.

There were floating docks that could be moved around further out in the water, but closer to land was a vast, intricate series of boardwalks, allowing humans to shop the floating market as well.

As Metropolis was much more populated than Smallville, there were tons of permanent long fin residents who kept the market going all year.

As it was currently the height of migration season for their area, though, the harbor was so busy it looked like a constantly moving mosaic from three floors up.

"Have you looked up ring shops in the area?" Lois asked, coming up beside him.

"Yeah. Dick knows his way around the market and has mentioned a lot of skilled jewelers like to set up shop here, so I want to see if he can point me to some who make engagement rings, but I've also got a list of inland ring shops, just in case."

"Have you told Dick?"

"Nope."

Lois raised an eyebrow at him. "Are you going to? Or do you think he just won't be suspicious about why you want an engagement ring?"

"Oh, I'm going to tell him. I just don't want to while *he's*," Clark pointed over at Tim, "in earshot."

Lois stifled a laugh. "You're scared you're going to be mocked by your teenager?"

"No, I *know* I'm going to be mocked by my teenager."

"Come on. Give him a chance. He's a good kid."

"I know that. But the problem is that he's also *my* kid. With you and Jimmy, he's all sweet and innocent. I'm fair game. And all he needs is for Dick to make some comment about how long Bruce and I spent co-parenting before we actually started dating."

"You don't think they'll go easy on you?"

Clark laughed. "Timmy is my third teenager. Trust me when I say they will team up to roast me."

Yyyyy

"Wow, this place is packed." Tim commented, seated on the sandy shore, just deep enough in the water to submerge his tail.

They had picked a far much less crowded part of the beach to meet up with Dick and Rachel, allowing Tim the chance to rehydrate.

"You haven't seen anything yet." Dick told him. "During the night, the whole place gets lit up by lanterns."

"Unfortunately, we're just here for the day." Clark rose from where he'd been sitting. "So should we get going?"

Tim looked hesitant to swim any deeper into the water, which Clark had somewhat expected. He was just about to point out that Tim could use his wheelchair when they noticed that Rachel had pulled herself up on shore with them as well, just a bit further away.

She still made sure to keep an eye on the three of them, but was otherwise occupied building a sandcastle.

"Hey, Rachel. Come on. We-,"

Dick was cut off by a frustrated, low growl. "Raven."

Dick paused, just for a moment, and then moved closer to have a bit more of a private talk with her.

"Hey, now. There's nothing wrong with the name 'Rachel'-,"

Rachel snarled and angrily flicked her tail at him, which, as she wasn't in the water, sent a wave of sand right into his face.

Instantly, she recoiled and flared her fins out, which, as she was still wearing her cloak, still had the desired effect of making her seem bigger.

More threatening.

It was a textbook defensive position, and Dick seemed to notice at the same time as Clark.

"Hey, honey, no. It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you."

She growled again and Dick glanced at Clark, eyes asking for help.

"Hey, Timmy? I think your niece wants to work on her sandcastle a little more. Why don't you stay here and give her a hand. Dick? Can you show me around the market?" Clark not so subtly hinted.

Tim nodded and Dick, though hesitant, reluctantly nodded and got back in the water.

Yyyyy

"Okay, buddy. Talk to me. What's going on with the whole 'Rachel', 'Raven' thing?" Clark asked a few minutes later.

They had managed to find a mostly empty section of pier and stopped to talk.

From where they were, they could see Rachel and Tim on the beach, each working on their own sandcastle.

Dick watched them quietly for a minute, but then sighed and hoisted himself up onto the pier beside his father.

"She's seven. I… I get that Trigon wasn't the best parent, but she's away from him now. She can… just be a normal kid now. I know it will take a lot of work to show her that, but I just… I don't want her to look back and realize that she changed her whole identity just because of him."

Clark nodded in understanding. "Look. She's your foster daughter. I'll respect boundaries. But… can I offer some advice?"

Dick nodded and looked up at him. "Please. Wally and I have been doing our best, but we don't know what we're doing. Victor and Garfield have been balls of energy since day one, but with Rachel? We want to help her. We just don't know how."

Clark nodded and thought for a second on how he wanted to proceed.

"Do you remember when you first came to live with me and Bruce? Back when we thought you'd only be in the lagoon for a few months?"

Dick frowned and looked down at the water. "I don't… really remember a whole lot from that time."

"You were a lot like her." Clark gestured towards the shore, where they could see Tim carefully digging out a moat around his castle while Rachel watched.

"I know I was angry. Sorry, by the way."

"Don't apologize. You were a kid, and with what had just happened to you, you had every right in the world to not trust me. I understood that then, and I think you need to understand where she's at right now. She doesn't know you. Doesn't trust you. You love her. You care about her. But you still need to let her trust you."

"I know that." Dick sighed, looking tired. "Victor and Garfield were never this hard, though."

"She's not Victor. Or Garfield. And, just like she doesn't know you, you don't know her. You don't know *why* she wants to go by Raven. But she trusts you enough to try and tell you what will make her comfortable. You just need to listen. There's a time for life lessons and tough love, but there's also a time to step back and listen. How long do you think it would have taken you to trust me if I'd insisted on calling you 'Richard'?"

Dick's eyes flickered around in deep thought for a while, gazing at his daughter and brother, and then at the water.

"Do you really think it's a good idea to let her change her name?"

Clark shrugged. "Like you said. She's seven. Maybe she'll grow out of it and go back to 'Rachel' when she's ready. Maybe she won't. Maybe," he pointed over at Tim, multi-colored tail glittering in the sun, "she'll find that her new name really is the one she wants to keep forever."

Dick blinked in surprise, but then smiled softly.

They all tended to forget that Tim had had another name before they'd met him.

"Whatever the case may be, she'll at least know that if she ever needs to, she can go to you and be listened to and heard."

Dick bit his lip and nodded. "That… that makes sense."

"...on the beach…"

"...looks just like him…"

Clark and Bruce paused and shared a look.

A pair of nearby mer, a man and a woman, were having a hushed conversation, while staring right at Tim and Raven.

"Should we… say something?" The woman asked.

"Excuse me." Dick interrupted them, dropping his voice to a steady, dangerous tone the likes of which his father had never heard. "What do you want with my daughter?"

The pair looked taken aback, and the man quickly moved in front of his wife. "We- we weren't-,"

"Stop it. Let's just go." She tugged him away, but he resisted, about to say something else to Dick.

"Leave." Dick ordered, fins flared wide.

"Jack! We were…" she shot a nervous glance at Dick. "We were wrong."

The man gave up and they left without another word, but Clark and Dick were still shaken.

Had they recognized Raven as being Trigon's daughter?

Had they believed Dick?

"Um. I'm going to take her home now. Thank you. For everything. The talk and the… well, raising me. I don't know if I ever said it before, but, thank you. You didn't have to take me in, and… I never really saw how hard I made things."

Clark smiled and tried to discreetly rub his eye.

He failed.

Gathering Dick up in a bear hug, Clark gave up trying to hide his tears. "I wouldn't have changed a thing, Dickie. Not a thing."

Chapter Text

*Incoming Call- Ma*

Clark stepped away from the ring display, letting Tim keep looking, and answered the call.

"Hello."

*Clark, hi. We just had a young man here looking for you. Did you hire one of the neighbors boys to handle the animals for the day?*

"No, I paid Steph to come by and feed them."

*That's odd.*

"Did something happen?" Clark asked. The mer couple who'd recognized Raven still had him on edge and he didn't like being so far from home when something might be going on.

*No, no. He just looked so out of place. We don't get many young men out here with so many piercings.*

That clicked in Clark's mind.

Where had he seen…

"Was he wearing a leather jacket? With spikes on the shoulders?"

Ma gasped. *Yes! You know him?*

"I ran into him at the coffee stand a few days ago. He's in town to find his father. I offered to help him but he turned me down. I guess he changed his mind." Clark felt bad for missing the kid, but how did he know where Clark lived?

Maybe he'd asked around town?

*Oh, I wish he'd told me that. Jonathan and I could have helped him.*

"Dad, Dad! Check out this one-, oh, sorry." Tim quickly covered his mouth. "You're on the phone."

"I've got to go, Ma. I'll see you tonight, okay?"

*Okay. Drive safe. I love you.*

"I love you, too, Ma."

Clark hung up the phone and knelt beside Tim's wheelchair to get a better look at the ring he was holding.

"That stone's called rutilated quartz." The mer running the floating shop informed. "If you're looking for a gemstone with meaning, it offers protection against those that wish harm on you."

"I'm actually looking for an engagement ring." Clark examined the stone, turning it in the sunlight to watch the needle-like black bands running through it glisten. "But I like the sound of that."

The mer grinned. "Well, I'm honored you came to me for it. My name's Hal."

"Clark." He shook the mer's offered hand. "And this is my son, Tim."

"Hi. Are those gills..?" Hal asked, gesturing to Tim's neck.

"Yeah." Tim nodded, ducking his head slightly. "I- I'm a mer."

Hal arched an eyebrow but decided to not say what was on his mind.

Instead, he gently flicked his tail and swam to another ring box, bringing it back to his customers.

"If you've decided on the stone you want, these are all rutilated quartz."

Clark and Tim looked through the glass, pointing out all the different cuts, colors, and bands.

There were elegantly crafted rings shaped like vines, branches, and coral.

Stones with black or gold spines in them.

Some were set in the bands, while others stood far out of the rings.

But none of them said 'Bruce'.

Until Tim reached over and lifted Clark's hand off the corner of the case, showing him that he'd been blocking a few options from view.

And that was when Clark saw the ring.

Bruce's ring.

It was perfect.

Yyyyy

Since their lunch break had been spent at the market, neither he nor Tim had had the chance to eat, so the pair spent the last few hours with a few snacks from the vending machine in their pockets.

Tim spent much of their time helping Jimmy go through and clean up photos, learning about editing and photography, while Clark and Lois worked on articles.

Well, when they weren't checking out the ring, that was.

Clark had it in a ring box in his chest pocket and kept checking that it was there, opening it to look at it.

"I'm sure he'll love it." Lois smiled, examining the ring.

"I sure hope so." Clark took the box back and turned it, letting it flash in the lights. "I know I'm probably being ridiculous, but now that I've got a ring… this all just seems so much more real.

Lois couldn't hide the small chuckle. "Are you worried the man you've been with for the past sixteen years will say no? After four kids? And two grandkids?"

"It sounds silly when you say it like that." Clark closed the box. "But… I can't help but go over everything that could go wrong."

"Clark." Lois smiled. "Bruce has been with you for sixteen years. Think of everything you two have been through together. Even if the proposal doesn't go perfectly, I'm sure he'll say yes. He loves you, too, after all."

"Yeah." Clark opened the box to look at the ring again. "But I still want everything to go well."

Chapter Text

"Hey, Pa. Can I ask you something?"

Pa looked up from the skillet where he was making breakfast for the three of them.

"Yeah, sure."

Clark, taking just a second to listen to the sounds of his mother getting ready for the day upstairs, wanting to ensure that this was a conversation that stayed between himself and his father, pulled the ring box out of his shirt pocket and placed it on the counter beside the oven.

His father glanced down at it, and then had to do a double take.

"You're going to… you haven't done that yet?" He had to move the eggs off the burner so they didn't burn when he picked up the box, voice changing from surprise to incredulity in an instant.

"Pa, if I had, you would have been there." Clark held out his hand for the box back.

Pa laughed and turned back to the counter, covering his eyes with one hand and holding up a 'gimme a second' finger.

"Pa-,"

But Clark was cut off before he could say anything else.

"I am going to leave the room, laugh at you, and then when I'm done I'll come back and have a real conversation with you. Okay?"

Clark, eyes closed, could only nod. "Yeah. Okay."

Yyyyy

Clark should have just asked his mother.

He'd been looking for any last minute advice before he proposed and thought it would be a good idea to ask Pa how he'd proposed.

Pa, once he'd returned, had admitted that it had been a spur of the moment type thing.

They'd dated for just under a year, lived together for several months, and had been talking about kids.

One day, they were alone, enjoying a peaceful afternoon, Jonathan reading the newspaper and Martha reading a Star Trek novel, when he'd looked at her and just known the time was right.

He'd asked her, right there and then, to be by his side forever, and that was that.

Decades later, they still spent their afternoons reading together, enjoying the peace, quiet, and each other.

While it was a sweet story, Clark felt he could have gone without the laughter.

"Well, buddy, by signing your adoption papers, I agreed to fill the role of your father in every way." Pa shrugged, finishing the eggs. "And I promised to take that role seriously. Even if it meant mocking you for taking well over a decade to finally remember to ask your husband to marry you."

Yyyyy

Clark headed out to the sheep pen, only to find that someone had already let the small flock out to graze.

Tim lay across Robin's back, letting the horse munch lazily on the grass alongside the sheep.

"You know I don't like you being up there, Tim."

Tim, hands tucked behind his head, glanced over at him and then sat up, swinging his tail over where he wanted it and hopping down from his perch, catching himself on the wooden fence. From there, he dropped back into his wheelchair.

"Did you sleep up here last night?" Clark asked, drinking his coffee as the two led Robin back to his own pasture.

Tim shrugged, and Clark took note of the fact that he looked particularly distracted.

"Is everything alright?"

Tim nodded, but then paused and reached up to pet Robin.

"Is it… weird that I'm more comfortable on land than I am in the water? I mean, I know it's weird. I'm a mer. But do you think it's bad?"

Clark frowned and switched Robin's lead rope to his other hand, moving to the other side of the horse and kneeling down beside his son.

"What brought this up? Did something happen?"

Tim bit his lip and didn't meet his eyes right away, but then sat back in his chair.

"Not exactly. I've just been thinking about that jeweler. Hal. The way he looked at me. Like… like there's something wrong with me, but he didn't want to say anything."

"Timmy, hey, no. There's nothing wrong with you."

"Except there is." Tim frowned, crossing his arms.

"Tim, no-,"

"I *know*, okay?" Tim cut him off, voice frustrated. "I *know* I've come a long way. I *know* I had to grow up different than Dick or Jason. I *know* that my normal won't ever be… anyone else's sense of normal." Tim dragged his hands down his face. "I know I'm different. And usually it doesn't bother me. Usually, I even kinda like it. But… I don't know. The way he *looked* at me. I just can't stop thinking about it."

Clark frowned and rubbed the horse's neck.

"I'm sorry buddy." He took Tim's hand, not sure what else to say. "I know it sucks sometimes, being different."

Tim sighed and rested his head on Clark's shoulder, playing with his hand absently.

"I know I'm a mer. I *should* be more at home in the water than on land, but… I don't know. I think… I think that being up here… it gave me a barrier. Every bad thing that's ever happened to me, happened in the water. Everyone who's hurt me… they've all been mers. On land, I'm safe."

Robin grunted softly, grazing by them, and Tim reached out to pet him.

"Do you think… putting that barrier up has kept me from… I don't know, being able to be… normal, ever?"

"Buddy… I'm so sorry. I wish I had all the answers. But I do know that you can't push yourself too fast with these things. Recovery takes time, and I know it might not feel like it, but you really have come a long way."

Tim took a deep breath, closing his eyes to exhale, and looked down the hill to the lagoon.

"I know. I just… sometimes I just wish I was able to be like Dick and Jason. They have problems too," he let go of Clark's hand and took the lead rope from him, tugging Robin closer, "but they can at least go out in public without broadcasting them for the world to see."

Chapter Text

Clark had the boat unmoored from the dock, rocking gently in the waves being let in through the open inlet.

Bruce, long tail glistening in the sunlight, was stretched across the back of it. He was leaning against Clark's chest, comfortably tucked between his legs, while his long tailfin was draped over the far side of the boat.

"It's so quiet." Bruce whispered. "I almost forgot what it was like to just listen to the water."

Clark smiled and adjusted his arms to wrap around Bruce's torso, holding him closer.

"Wally and Dick took the kids to the harbor, Jason's off at work, and Damian and Tim are running the stand."

He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the back of Bruce's head, the mer's still damp hair cool to the touch.

"What are we going to do with the whole lagoon all to ourselves?"

"Hmm." Bruce smiled up at him, leaning back against his shoulder. "What indeed."

Clark kissed his neck and then gently knocked their foreheads together.

Bruce leaned into the touch, closing his eyes and chuckling.

"I know it's… *really* late," Clark started, "but I got you something."

Bruce quirked a curious eyebrow and sat back, letting Clark reach into his jacket pocket.

"I love you, Bruce."

He pulled out the box, heart racing.

Words had always come fairly easy to him, enough that he'd built his career on it, but at this moment, he found himself a bit tongue-tied.

"From the moment I first met you, you've changed my life in ways I never could have imagined."

He opened the box, watching as Bruce's expression changed to surprise upon seeing the ring.

"I know our relationship isn't… traditional. In any way."

They hadn't even started dating until after they'd been co-parenting for several years.

"But I love you. And, traditional or not, I want to be with you forever. Will you marry me?"

"Clark," Bruce smiled wide, reaching up to reverently take the ring box. "I-,"

"Are you *fucking* kidding me?!"

Both men jumped at the incredulous shout, noticing a bit too late that Wally and Dick had returned with the kids, all of whom had just heard Dick's… language.

Wally had known Dick long enough to have apperently seen the profanity coming and had been quick to cover the ears of the closest kid, which unfortunately left both of their boys defenseless.

"You know, I know it's hard to keep track, but my ears are two things that actually work perfectly." Victor leveled a deadpan stare at both of his parents while Garfield belatedly covered his own ears.

"Hey, not in front of the kids." Wally scolded.

"Yeah!" Gar chimed in. "I've still got baby ears!"

"And also go away!" Another voice called from the bushes near the dock, immediately cutting off any further conversation before it had a chance to start.

Clark whipped around and was just fast enough to see a bright yellow fintip get yanked back behind a wall of blackberry vines.

"Tim." He called.

"Not here!" Came the frantic reply.

Clark sighed and separated himself from Bruce, standing up.

"Alright, who all is here? Everyone front and center."

Dick, Wally, and their pups were quickly joined by a sheepish Jason, who appeared to have just woken up, while a strangled squawk from the bushes preceded a duck being thrown out.

The poor animal shook itself off and flew away.

"Tim." Clark called again, his tone more stern this time. "We know that's you back there and not a duck. Get out here."

The bush remained silent.

"Now."

Tim appeared and scooted back down to the water, swimming over to join him family.

Once the whole pod was assembled, Clark crossed his arms and addressed them. "Were you all eavesdropping on us?"

"We were not eavesdropping, I promise." Wally was quick to say. "The harbor was more crowded than we thought it would be, so we headed back early. Raven doesn't like crowds."

"Artemis had to take to boat to a dry dock for some repairs, so we all got the day off." Jason, also knowing Dick, slapped a hand over the blue mer's mouth before he could say anything. "I decided to come home for a nap."

"I was actively eavesdropping on you." Tim announced. "Well, not at first. Damian's throwing a tantrum right now because we forgot Sheep down here, so I came to get it." He flitted around excited. "Now, please can this continue? I'm sorry you're kinda on the spot, but-,"

Dick finally managed to free himself from his younger but much larger brother, cutting off Tim.

"You're just asking him now!?!" He demanded. "Wait, is this why you took Tim and us to the floating market?"

"Yes-,"

"Hang on, hang on." Jason, still not one hundred percent awake, it seemed, ran a hand through his hair, confused. "Did… did you guys break up or something? Or… is this a renewal of your vows type thing?"

"No, we-,"

"They never got married in the first place!" Dick filled in, once again interrupting Clark.

"I'm… just gonna… take the pups." Wally herded the three of them to the far side of the lagoon.

"We… we had other things going on." Clark tried to explain, holding up his hands defensively.

Dick sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'm… I'm not mad. I promise. But… you guys know you have *grandchildren*, right? As in, plural?"

"Yes, Dickie, we know."

"Can we get an answer?" Tim called up.

"You two aren't married?" Jason tilted his head.

"What part of this situation are you not getting?" Dick turned on him. "I will dumb it down if I need to."

"No, I just always thought you two were already married-,"

"*Everyone* thinks that! Because no other couple spends sixteen years just dating!"

"Can we *please* get an answer?!" Tim braced himself against Dick's shoulders and, with a flick of his tail, pushed the other mer underwater, not-so-subtly telling him to pipe down.

Clark, only then noticing that Bruce had yet to say anything, turned back to him.

He had apparently not been bothered in the least by the intrusion, and was instead admiring the ring that was now on his finger with the softest expression on his face.

It was a simple, elegant band with the stone being built directly into the middle, running through the whole ring as a stripe, rather than relying on a setting to keep it in place.

Clark sat back down beside him and took his hands in his own.

"Bruce?"

"Yes." He choked out. And then he laughed, holding Clark's hands back and numbing their foreheads together again. "Yes, Clark. I'll marry you."

Chapter Text

If Clark and Bruce were a younger couple, they may have been able to enjoy their engagement in peace.

But they weren't.

They had four kids.

Three grandkids.

And two sets of parents.

All of whom were relentless.

Thankfully there was more celebrating than mocking going on, but both men still received their fair share of "it's about time" comments.

Eventually, though, dinnertime came around and, while the mer members of the family had hearded some fish into the lagoon before it had closed, the human members had different dietary needs.

Which was how they ended up calling in an order for pizza.

Clark kissed Bruce goodbye and turned to ask Tim if he wanted to come, only to see his pup snoozing on the dock, worn out from how excited he'd gotten.

Ma smiled at him from her spot right beside Tim. "The stand was fairly busy, too. He's had a long day."

"I'll let him stay here, then." He handed Damian off to Bruce and headed back up the hill to his truck.

It took him just a few minutes to reach the town's only pizza shop and he walked in, the chiming of the bell above the door announcing his presence to those in the building.

As it was rather late, there was one lone worker busying herself with chopping vegetables while listening to music.

"Your pizza's in the oven. It'll just be another minute." She called, looking up at him.

"No problem." He waved and went to go find a seat when he noticed that not only were there two other patrons in the dining area, but the music he was hearing wasn't coming from the radio.

The teenage boy he'd met at the coffee stand was seated at a table, chair pulled far enough away that he was able to have his guitar across his legs.

On the other side of the table, smiling wide and tapping his fingertips to the beat of the song, was the blond boy he'd been with before.

"Hey, you're really good at that." Clark commented as the song finished, taking a seat in a nearby booth. "Have you been playing long?"

The teen (what did he say his name was? Cole?) blushed slightly under the praise, awkwardly picking at a few of the strings.

"Just a few years. One of my last foster families required that everyone learned an instrument. It's supposed to help with focus or whatever. I guess I kind of have a knack for it, though."

"I'll say. I thought I was hearing the radio when I walked in."

"Thanks." He grinned. "Bernard keeps saying I should start recording."

"Because you should." The other boy, Bernard, nodded like this was a conversation they'd had several times over all ready.

"I just… y'know, really don't want to be in the spotlight. It's not for me."

"I already told you," the woman making pizzas called over. "All you have to do is hang around here. Play for my customers, maybe take a few requests. I'll even throw some freebies your way. Do you know any Dixie Chicks?"

The boys laughed and Cole, (no… that didn't sound right) strummed a vaguely familiar tune on his guitar.

"No, way." She laughed. "Kids your age don't know the Dixie Chicks."

The teen, raising an eyebrow pointedly played a bit more of the song before calling back, "What? Was this the Dixie Chicks? I had no idea."

The woman and Clark laughed, while Bernard tried to stifle his laugh by taking a bite of the pizza on the table.

"So, if it's alright for me to ask, how's your search going?" Clark asked once they'd settled back down.

"Ehh." He shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. "I've made progress, but haven't actually met the guy yet. I went by his house once but he was out and… well, I haven't really been able to talk myself into going back. I mean," he frowned, looking down at his guitar. "I'm not really sure what I'll say to him. It's been sixteen years."

"Conner," Bernard started, but Conner quickly shook his head, cutting him off and changing the subject.

"Sorry, I don't really want to burden a stranger with this." He chuckled awkwardly and cleared his throat. "You, um, you said you've lived here all your life? I don't suppose you have a movie theater in this town?"

"No, but once a week we all gather in the town square to watch rerun episodes of 'Psych' projected on the side of a barn." Clark joked easily, used to city people remarking on just how little was in their tiny town.

Bernard and Conner, however, looked fascinated for a moment before realizing that he wasn't being serious.

"Wow." Bernard laughed. "We really are out in the boonies. No offense."

"None taken."

Their conversation was cut off by the pizza shop worker, who returned to the counter with two flat boxes. "Order for Clark Kent." She called, and Clark stood to go pay and get his family's dinner, turning briefly to say goodbye to the boys.

They both were staring at him, wide-eyed.

"... What?"

"You're… Clark Kent?" Conner asked, his entire mood suddenly changed.

"Yes? Did I not introduce myself?"

Conner and Bernard shared a look, and then Conner stood up, handing his guitar over to Bernard.

"Um… n-no. You didn't."

Clark, now very confused, turned back around to fully face them, trying to figure out what was going on.

"But… I- I should."

Before he could venture a guess, though, Conner pulled out a folded piece of paper, unfolded it, and held it out.

"I'm Conner Jones. And… and according to this, you're my biological father."

Clark numbly took the paper, trying to read it through the confusion.

"I'm your son."

Chapter Text

"I… you… what?" Clark had no idea what he was hearing.

The paper in his hand, sure enough, had his name.

But it couldn't have been real.

Maybe a fake?

But this kid didn't look like he was lying.

He was just a kid.

They both were.

"I'm… I'm sorry to just spring this on you." Conner took a step back, eyes now on the old hardwood floor. "I just…" he shrugged nervously. "I just figured… since I was surrendered to the state right after being born… I could find out why?"

Clark read the paper again, unable to figure out what to say.

"Or… or maybe you'd… want to get to know me? I'd… I'd like to get to know you. If I could. I've never known anything about where I came from."

'DNA MATCH CONFIRMED'

'FATHER NAME- CLARK J. KENT'

DNA?

Clark had… he'd never had anyone he shared DNA with.

No one except his cousin, Kara, that was.

But being adopted meant he didn't even share DNA with his own parents or children.

How did this random kid he'd just met… share his blood?

"We don't… have to. I'm not asking for money or anything." Conner's voice faded and Bernard stood, placing the guitar on a nearby table and coming over to take Conner's hand.

Clark finally managed to tear his eyes away from the paper. "I… I'm not…"

Conner closed his eyes in defeat, lowering his head.

Trying again, Clark cleared his throat and took a breath. "Look. I'm not saying you're lying, but… are… are you sure this is right?"

"Yeah. At least… I think so. I've always wanted to know about my parents so I did one of those DNA tests."

Clark read the paper again.

That was his name.

That was his middle initial.

And the limited contact information that was provided under his name was all his as well.

"Would… again, I'm not saying you're lying, but would you be opposed to taking another one?"

Conner and Bernard glanced at each other, and then looked back at Clark, Conner shaking his head.

"If it comes back that I'm not actually your father, I'll still do what I can to help you find who he is. But, I'm so sorry to tell you, I'm pretty sure you've got the wrong man."

Conner, confused, shakily reached out for the paper. Clark handed it over and watched as he read it himself again.

"You're… Clark Kent though?"

Clark nodded. "I am. But…" he pointed back towards the counter, where the worker was suddenly doing a horrible job of pretending to do her job, mincing a tomato to an unusable pulp. "I'm… I'm picking up pizza to celebrate my engagement. To my husband."

Conner blinked in surprise and Clark pretended he didn't hear the small gasp that came from the worker.

"Oh, yeah. I… I know. I already… met… my other dad." Conner frowned, an expression Clark couldn't exactly place flashing over his face.

"Your… your other dad? What does that mean? Who's your other dad?"

Conner didn't say anything, and Bernard silently just held his hand with both of his own.

"Conner?"

"You're right." He blurted out, voice stiff. "You're right. The test might be wrong. We should… we should get another one. To be sure."

Clark wasn't sure what had caused the sudden change in attitude, and he felt terrible for the kid, but he needed to collect his thoughts.

He needed to get back home.

He needed to think.

Breathe.

And so they exchanged phone numbers.

And then all three of them left.

Yyyyy

Clark gripped his steering wheel tightly as he drove, the pizzas on the bench beside him.

This couldn't be real.

How common was it for those tests to be false?

Maybe… maybe Kara had had a kid?

And there had been some sort of mix-up?

Was that possible?

Someone could have given his information to her kid?

But, no.

That didn't sound right.

And what did he mean, he'd already met his other dad?

He could clearly see that the boys needed help, and, being a journalist, he knew how to get information.

Two sixteen year olds shouldn't be traveling alone, searching for people they didn't know in a town they'd never been to.

Oh, god. He hoped they weren't alone.

Maybe… the 'other dad' was with them?

If he was, Clark was going to have to have some strong words with him in private.

Either way, he wanted to help Conner find out who his actual parent was.

But…

What if the test was right?

How..?

There was no way.

He'd never…

But he did have to admit that Conner bore a bit of a resemblance to old, high school aged photos of himself.

Maybe there was a chance?

But that still didn't explain *how* Conner could have… been created.

Because that would require a level of intimacy with a woman that Clark had never…

Maybe a past boyfriend was trans?

That would explain the 'other dad'.

Except… sixteen years ago was when he'd met Bruce.

He hadn't been with anyone around that time.

Clark took his foot off the gas and let the truck roll on its own, headlights illuminating the empty road he was on and, far ahead, his family's mail box.

What would he tell Bruce?

What would he tell his parents?

And everyone else, as well.

A random kid showing up the same day he got engaged was a mess of emotions he didn't even know how to handle himself.

What if it ended up that there was some other Clark Kent out there?

Someone who had had a kid, and then decided they'd rather not be a father?

Did he really want to expose his family to…

No.

He shook his head.

He had no idea what was going on, but he wasn't going to keep Bruce in the dark.

Just…

Tonight wasn't the time to tell him.

Tonight, they were celebrating.

Tomorrow, he'd talk to Bruce.

Chapter Text

"Bruce." Clark waved him over to the dock the next morning, having come down earlier than normal. "Come here. We need to talk."

Bruce, still blinking sleep from his eyes, swam up to the dock and hoisted himself up, greeting Clark with a smile and a kiss. "About what?"

Clark sat back and let out a breath, still not entirely sure how to broach what had happened the night before.

Bruce frowned and got comfortable across from him, taking his hand. "Does this have to do with you going to get pizza last night?"

Clark looked up at him in surprise. "How did you..?"

"You think I can't tell when my fiance's upset and trying to hide it from me?"

"I just… wanted you to enjoy the evening."

Bruce nodded. "And… I couldn't enjoy it if I knew what happened while you were out?"

Clark shifted his position and held Bruce's hands back, massaging them gently with his thumbs.

There was still so much uncertainty.

He had spent hours the night before thinking of his past relationships.

There really hadn't been that many, and his last serious relationship had ended when the two of them had graduated college.

Which had been twenty years ago.

"Clark, if you're getting cold feet-,"

"No." Clark shook his head firmly. "No. That… that's not the issue here."

"Okay, then. What is?"

Clark closed his eyes and sighed.

He then brought up one of Bruce's hands and kissed the back of it.

"I don't… really have any idea how to say this. I just found out last night, and there's a good chance that it's all a mistake, but… I might… have a kid."

He could feel the moment Bruce froze.

"A kid like… ours? Another pup?"

Clark shook his head slowly. "No. A kid like… like mine. Actually… related to me."

"What do you mean?" Bruce frowned.

"There's a teenage boy who just came to town looking for his biological father. He was at the pizza shop last night and we got to talking. He's never met the man before, but he took a DNA test and… according to the test, I'm a direct match."

"You… you've had a son this whole time?"

"I don't know." Clark shook his head.

The confusion on Bruce's face caused his chest to ache.

They were supposed to be happy.

Bruce was supposed to be happy.

They had a wedding to plan, a lagoon full of pups and grandpups to play with.

"Did you… I mean, I know we weren't official or anything until after Jason-,"

"No. Bruce, I swear. I was never unfaithful. And I promise, I'd never lead you or anyone else on-,"

Except…

He had.

"Clark?" Bruce prompted when he fell silent.

The memory of the guilt of that day still haunted him, but he shook his head, clearing it.

"I asked him if we could take another test, just in case there was some sort of mix up. But, if he is mine, I… I have no idea how he happened. I wasn't with anybody but you sixteen years ago."

"And… if he's not?"

"I don't know. I think we'll need to cross that bridge when we get to it. But, I do want to help him find his family." He confessed.

Bruce looked down at his hands in thought. "Clark, I don't… really want to ask this, but… have you *ever* been with a woman? I'm asking because, well, growing up in a clinic, I've picked up on things. I've heard about…" Bruce closed his eyes, gesturing with his hands in embarrassment as he spoke. "There are… ways for someone to become pregnant… unconventionally."

Clark frowned, glancing away.

"Yeah." He admitted. "But… she's not his mom. Or… other parent. He says he's already met his other dad."

"And… could he be trans? The dad, I mean?"

Clark shrugged. "I have no idea. It's possible."

"So… your ex-girlfriend could possibly be..?" He prompted.

But Clark shook his head. "I don't know what's been going on with her since we broke up. We lost contact. But she's not his mom."

"Are you sure? Leslie once told me about someone who saved a contraceptive -,"

"I never slept with her." Clark interrupted, not wanting the conversation to keep going in that direction.

Bruce and Clark fell silent for a bit, just listening to the waves.

"If it's alright for me to ask," Bruce broke the silence softly. "I thought you told me you were gay."

"I am." Clark nodded, already knowing what they were going to have to talk about.

"So, what were you doing with a girlfriend?"

Chapter Text

"I started suspecting I was gay when I was fifteen." Clark began. "Back then, especially for a small, farming town, it was… pretty taboo."

"To… be gay?"

Clark nodded. "I guess that's just a human prejudice. But, yeah. Guys liking guys tended to be, let's just say, strongly discouraged."

Bruce shook his head. "We have our own prejudices, but it's mainly due to fins. Migratory mers are expected to fall for migratory mers. Deep sea with deep sea." He lifted his own tailfin up. "Stationary with stationary. It's not always the case, but for the most part we're mainly pushed to fall for our own kind."

Clark hadn't heard this before. "Wait, so… is it okay that we're together?"

Bruce shrugged. "One, we're hardly the first mer/human pairing the world has seen. And two, I'm not sure if you've noticed, but I don't exactly care what others think of me. Besides, it's mainly a health issue. Long-fin mers will occasionally become migratory due to being in a relationship with a short-fin and vice versa, but it's not good for us."

Clark nodded. "Yeah, well. Humans aren't always as… rational. Gay people are different, therefore… they should be treated as such."

"And you were treated differently?"

Clark shook his head. "I didn't come out until I was nineteen. I, being a naive kid, thought I'd be able to force myself to be straight.”

"You… tried to force yourself to be straight?"

Clark nodded and leaned back against one of the dock supports. "A friend of mine, Lana, and I got to talking one day. She mentioned that she was tired of being single and, well, one thing led to another. We ended up going out. At the time, I was convinced that liking girls was one of those things that would end up being an acquired taste."

"I don't think that's how attraction works."

"It's not. And I found that out the hard way. I went through all the motions of being in a relationship. I paid for dates, took her to prom, met her parents. But it never felt… real. I couldn't force my feelings to be genuine, no matter how hard I tried. And I really did try. I read romance books and tried to picture the two of us together in the future. I took up writing poetry. But… it always felt… fake. She was a good friend, and I wanted so badly to feel for her the way I was *supposed* to, but no matter what I did, it always failed. I couldn't fix myself. I couldn't force myself to be able to genuinely love someone I only saw as a friend. And then, on prom night…"

Clark trailed off, still able to remember that night a bit too vividly.

She'd worn purple feathers in a long braid, matching her floor length dress.

The school had scraped enough money together to hire a professional dj, and the music had been *blaring*.

"She kissed me. And then told me how much she loved me. And… I ran away. I couldn't face her. I… I hadn't fully grasped until right then that, while I'd been struggling to convince myself and everyone around me that I wasn't broken, she actually wasn't. She was straight, without having to fake it or force herself. The whole time we were together, she'd shown me exactly how she'd felt, and I'd only lied to her."

Clark felt Bruce take his hands again, massaging them slowly.

"I walked all the way home in the dark. And… when I saw her next, I broke up with her. She moved away right after we graduated and I haven't heard from her since. So," Clark cleared his throat. "I don't think she's related to Conner. But, since she's the only girlfriend I've ever had, I don't have any clue how he could be mine."

Bruce scooted closer and then moved so he was seated beside Clark, still holding one of his hands. "Have any of your past relationships been trans?"

Clark shook his head. "Besides you and Lana, I've only had one other serious relationship and he was cis. We broke up after graduating college."

Bruce hummed softly in thought.

"You know you're perfectly normal, right? You're not broken."

"I'm aware. But thank you."

"... Is there any possibility that Conner came from someone you *weren't* in a serious relationship with?"

Clark shook his head, but before he could answer verbally, they heard a movement in the water and Tim hauled himself up to peek over the edge of the dock's wooden planks.

All three of them stared at each other for a moment before anyone spoke.

"Hey, buddy. You're up early." Bruce finally greeted.

"I promise I wasn't trying to eavesdrop this time." Tim whispered. "Who's… who's Conner?"

Clark sighed and pushed his glasses up, rubbing his eyes.

He really hadn't wanted this to get out to the whole family until they knew more about what was going on.

Too late for that, though.

"Conner… may or may not be my biological son. We don't know yet."

And if he was, where in the heck did he come from?

Chapter Text

Four days and one DNA test later, they got confirmation.

Conner was Clark's.

How?

They still had no idea.

But he was Clark’s son.

"Wow. I… I can't believe it." Clark, standing in the parking lot of the motel Conner and Bernard were staying in, read the file again.

"So… what now?" Conner asked, seated on the curb beside Clark's truck.

Bernard sat with his back against the room door, wrapped in Conner's jacket. "You really don't remember dating anyone about seventeen years ago?"

Clark shook his head. "I was single from the time I graduated college up until I met Bruce."

"Do you at least know the name-,"

"Bernard. Stop." Conner cut him off.

"What name?" Clark asked, but they both remained stubbornly silent. "Both of you. What name?"

Apparently his 'I'm serious' tone worked on more than just the four boys he'd raised, because Conner closed his eyes and dropped his head, exhaling.

"Lex Luthor."

"Lex?" Clark's eyebrows shot up.

"So, you do know him."

Clark did.

He knew how the man took his coffee.

How he folded his clothes.

The fact that, when he was stressed, he'd talk in his sleep.

He knew Lex Luthor better than most people.

"He was my college boyfriend."

"Okay. So… how did you, plus him, make me?"

Clark shook his head. "I have no idea. I… he and I broke up twenty years ago."

"I'm sixteen."

"Are you sure?"

"Am I- Yes, I'm sure!"

"Okay, okay." Clark raised his hands. "I'm not accusing you. I'm just making sure we have all our facts straight. You said you met Lex already. Did he say-,"

"He told me he'd been young, dumb, and thought he was ready for a family. By the time I was born, though, he'd become scared that he wasn't father material and gave me up for adoption." Conner rested his chin on his arms, gazing across the otherwise empty parking lot. "He said you weren't in the picture anymore, by that point."

Clark looked down at the test again. "I hadn't been in the picture for several years by that point-,"

"Yeah." Conner cut him off gruffly. "Got it. Cause nothing in my life can be fucking simple, can it?"

Bernard stood and walked over to Conner, taking a seat behind him and hugging him, still wearing the comically large leather jacket.

Conner, surprisingly, seemed to calm down at his touch, taking a few deep breaths.

As Clark watched, he could see the tension somewhat drain from his body.

"Conner," Clark knelt down so he was eye level with the teen, "look, I know this is stressful and confusing. But I want you to know, I'm not Lex. Whatever happened between the two of you, you're safe here. I understand you're nearly an adult and I'll respect your wishes if you just wanted to meet with me to, well, meet me. But, circumstances aside, I'd still like the opportunity to get to know you."

Conner lifted his head and studied Clark's face, appearing to be searching for any signs of deceit.

"You're… serious?"

He nodded. "I'm serious. I've already talked it over with the rest of my family and we all agree. They'd like to meet you, if you're up for it."

Conner looked almost hopeful for a second, before the look was replaced with suspicion. "Why? So I can apologize for ruining the wedding?"

"No." Clark shook his head. "Bruce and I have been together for years, and trust me, we've handled worse than a surprise kid. You haven't ruined anything."

Conner still didn't look convinced, but a slight nudge from Bernard softened his expression. "... Okay. Can Bernard come?"

"Sure."

The three of them stood and dusted themselves off, Bernard handing Conner back his jacket.

"I'm going to go grab mine." He said, turning and heading back into the motel room.

Once the door was latched, Clark turned back to Conner. "It sounds like something happened between you and Lex."

Conner frowned, but Clark held up a hand before he could interrupt.

"I'm not going to pry. But… can you think of anything, anything at all, that could give us any more information? Anything he might have said? Anything he might have shown you?"

Conner thought in silence, hands in his pockets. "I… I do have something, but it's probably useless. Gimme a sec." He turned and followed after Bernard, back into the motel room.

A minute later, both boys were back and Conner held out a flash drive to Clark.

"Here."

Clark took it, noting Lex's distinct, nearly typed, handwriting on the side.

'CONNER'

"What's this?"

Conner shrugged. "Like I said, it's probably useless. Lex said it's my baby photos and a few documents from the day I was born. Right before I was put up for adoption. I… decided I didn't want to leave this with him, so I swiped it. Haven't been able to take a look at anything, though. It's locked and I don't know the password."

Clark frowned and turned the small device over in his hand.

He had known, all the way back in college, that Lex wasn't always the most… upstanding man.

But to think that he'd somehow had a child, failed to tell Clark, and instead gave him up for adoption, blew him away.

Lex knew Clark was adopted.

Lex knew Clark had wanted a large family.

Lex, in fact, had been adamant that he never wanted to have kids.

It was just one of the things that had led to Clark breaking things off with him.

It had been a hard, painful decision, and healing from the break up was the main reason he'd remained single until he'd met Bruce.

He had truly loved Lex.

But this?

Clark was still having a hard time wrapping his head around the fact that Lex had… what had he done, exactly?

"You can keep it, if you want." Conner broke into his train of thought.

"Hm? Oh, this? Are you sure?"

Conner shrugged. "Not exactly too eager to see pics of him holding me, or… whatever the hell he signed to give me up. If you can break in, it's yours. Feel free to go through whatever. I'd just as soon step on it."

Clark pocketed the flash drive and got behind the wheel of his truck, Bernard and Conner circling around to climb in the passenger side.

As soon as they were all buckled in, Clark pulled out onto the road and headed home.

Chapter Text

"Ma and Pa are in the house," Clark explained, pulling the truck to a stop and unbuckling his seat belt. "But Bruce and the rest of the family are down in the lagoon."

Conner nodded. "You said they know about me already?"

"That's correct. But, don't worry. They're excited to meet you."

Conner frowned and crossed his arms, almost defensively. "Yeah. Sure."

"Is everything alright?"

Conner chewed on his lip for a moment until Bernard nudged his hand.

"People can't tell what you're thinking." He whispered.

"It's… it's nothing."

"Are you still concerned they won't like you?" Clark asked.

"I showed up out of nowhere right at the worst possible time to remind you of an old ex. You can't tell me my arrival didn't throw a wrench in your plans."

Clark pulled out his phone and tapped a few buttons, pulling up his camera.

"Here. This is my oldest. When Bruce and I first took him in, we were only supposed to have him for a few months. The two of us had never discussed kids, I was in the middle of a pretty high profile investigation at work, and Bruce and I weren't even dating yet. In fact, I only spent my weekends in Smallville. But he didn't have anywhere else to go, and it would only be a few months, so we agreed."

Conner examined the picture quietly. "I take it that didn't work out?"

Clark shook his head. "No. Unfortunately, we ended up having to choose between giving him over to a facility, or taking him in ourselves. In the end, I took a demotion at work and moved back home."

He took the phone back and returned it to his pocket.

"We've had wrenches thrown in our plans before. But trust me, Conner, we'd rather have the opportunity to get to know you than a plan that goes flawlessly."

Yyyyy

Ace, arthritic and gray in the face, stood with a grunt and walked over to greet the newcomers, tail wagging.

Bernard was delighted to meet him and within a minute had the large dog on his back for a belly rub.

"Ma, Pa." Clark greeted his parents. "This is Conner and Bernard."

"Hello ma'am. Um, sir." Conner nodded, still standing back by the door.

"Conner, hi. It's nice to see you again." Ma stood and came over, taking his hand in hers. "I'm so sorry I wasn't more help last time you were here. I didn't know Clark was who you were looking for."

"Don't… don't worry about it." Conner shrugged.

"What did the test say, by the way?" Pa asked, setting down three more mugs of coffee, alongside his own and his wife's.

"It's positive. I'm really his father."

Pa and Ma shared a look. "And… with who?"

Clark took a drink of coffee before answering. "Do you remember Lex?"

"Luthor?" Pa raised an eyebrow.

"Yup." Clark nodded.

Pa looked back and forth between Clark and Conner, who was now in the living room with Ma, Bernard, Ace, and Haly, being excitedly shown the photos hanging from the walls.

"And Lex is his… bio dad, too?"

"Yup." Clark nodded again.

"Do we know how that happened?"

Clark shook his head. "No. And that's not the biggest mystery here, either."

"What do you mean?"

"Conner's sixteen. I had Lois and Jimmy look up his school records to be sure, and everything they found points to that being accurate."

Pa nodded, expression slightly confused. "Yeah? What about it?"

"Conner was born sixteen years ago, but the last time I saw Lex was right after I graduated college. *Twenty* years ago."

Pa's jaw dropped. "Twenty..? Wait, then… how on earth?"

"I don't know." Clark reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the flash drive. "But hopefully he's still using the same password."

Yyyyy

Clark, Conner and Bernard could hear screaming before they even reached the lagoon.

Damian had Garfield in a headlock and was refusing to let go despite both Bruce and Wally trying to pull them apart.

"Damian, let go!" Bruce ordered as Clark jumped off the end of the dock to help, pinching his cheeks until he opened his mouth and let Garfield go.

"He bit me!" Garfield yelled, being pulled away by his father. "He bit me!"

"I know, buddy. Let me see."

"What happened?" Clark asked, holding Damian out of the water so he couldn't try and swim after the other little green mer.

"Gar kept splashing Titus." Bruce sighed.

Tim, over by the doghouses, was holding Titus by the collar and drying him off with a towel.

"We told him to calm down but he thought it was funny to get him riled up." Bruce hoisted himself up onto the dock while Clark, still carrying the angry, growling Damian, walked up to the shore and joined him, Conner, and Bernard. "Dick took Raven and Victor to the harbor, and Jason's still at work. I'm sorry we're not all here."

"Don't worry about it. Conner, Bernard, this is my fiance, Bruce. Bruce, this is Conner. My son." Clark introduced.

Tim swam over to meet the boys, as did Wally, Gar tucked firmly against his chest to keep him from wandering off to harass the dog again.

Yyyyy

It wasn't until Clark had the ability to observe his interactions from a distance that it became more apparent, but Bernard seemed to be acting as an emotional regulator for Conner.

It was subtle, but as he noticed it, he started looking back on past conversations he'd had with the boys.

What he'd originally dismissed as Bernard just enjoying casual physical contact now appeared to be more for Conner's benefit.

Clark sat on the deck of his boat with his laptop open, trying to unlock the flashdrive while everyone got to know each other on the dock.

Damian, still in time-out for biting his nephew, pouted on his human father's lap, watching them.

Wally asked Conner what it was like living in such a large city and, before Conner could get more than a word out, Tim excitedly asked him if he'd visited the floating market.

Conner, initially, narrowed his eyes and shrank back a bit at the interruption, but Bernard shifted how he was sitting slightly to lean against the other teen.

Like magic, Conner's expression softened and he exhaled, shoulders dropping their tense hold.

The entire exchange between the two happened subtly and in just a matter of seconds Conner was carrying on with the conversation as if nothing had been wrong.

Clark watched them get to know each other, occasionally chiming in himself, as he tapped out what he remembered of Lex's favorite passwords.

The date he'd won his first science fair.

*INCORRECT PASSWORD*

Nikola Tesla's birthdate.

*INCORRECT PASSWORD*

Clark had to switch over and do a quick internet search to find out that Lex was currently dating a competitive mixed martial artist, Marcy Graves.

He tried her name.

*INCORRECT PASSWORD*

Her latest won competition.

*INCORRECT PASSWORD*

Growing mildly frustrated, Clark sat back, frowned and ran a hand through his hair.

"Hmph." Damian huffed, chin resting on his crossed arms.

Clark reached down and patted his shoulder. "For being a vegetarian, you sure tend to resort to biting pretty quickly."

Damian growled and flapped his tailfin, slapping it against the old, wood planks.

"He splashed Titus." The pup mumbled angrily.

"I know, buddy. But you know Titus likes being splashed. That's how he plays. And, besides, you can't be fighting like that. You hurt your nephew."

Damian just huffed and turned away again.

"So how did you two meet?" Bruce asked.

"School." Bernard shrugged.

"Yeah. You were cutting gym class, if I remember." Conner teased.

"I was lost."

"You were not."

They both laughed and Clark smiled, catching Bruce's eye.

They smiled at each other softly.

As the conversation continued, Clark looked back down at the computer and, almost half heartedly, entered his own birthday.

The flashdrive opened.

Chapter Text

There were no baby photos.

Clark felt rattled in a way he never had before.

He'd felt betrayal, but not like this.

This…

This was…

He had given Lex years of his life.

He'd spent late nights sitting up with him, comforting him as his hair fell out.

Telling each other their goals and ambitions.

Lex had spent several holidays at the Kent farm.

As a member of the family.

But it had all been fake.

A lie.

"Clark, what's wrong?"

All those late night talks.

Walking each other to class in the mornings.

"Baby, look at me."

"Hm?" Clark blinked and noticed that Bruce was right beside him. "Sorry?"

"You look like you've seen a ghost."

Clark cleared his throat and looked back at the screen.

"I… I cracked open the drive."

Bruce shifted to face the screen and started reading, and Clark could tell he hadn't mis-read anything by the tightening of Bruce's grip on his hand.

"What is it?" Conner asked, standing up. "What's wrong?"

"Conner, I'm sorry. Where did you get this?"

"I… I swiped it from Lex's desk the last time I was at his place."

Clark nodded. "And he never showed you what was on it?"

Conner just shook his head.

"What's on it?" Bernard stood beside Conner, concern evident in his face and stance.

"It's… everything. His entire plan regarding you and I."

"Clark, this can't be right. This… this is insane." Bruce scrolled further down, reading everything that appeared on the screen.

"Let me see." Conner stepped up onto the boat, but Clark held up a hand.

He was hardly able to process what he'd just seen. He didn't want Conner to have to.

"Stop. This is-,"

"Me. It's me, and I'd like to know what the hell you mean by 'plan'." Conner defiantly stepped over to the computer and turned it around, reading and scrolling down.

Damian growled at the invasion of personal space, but for once, no one corrected him.

"Conner…"

"Who's… Jordan L.?"

Clark took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "Jordan was my father. My… my biological father."

Conner frowned and kept reading.

"And… Kryptonite… I've heard of that before." He mumbled softly.

"His invention. Well, his team's. It was supposed to be a clean energy source. It ended up being radioactive enough to cause cancer in several of the scientists working with it."

"What does all this have to do with… me." Conner apparently found what Clark and Bruce had seen. "Oh."

As Tim, Wally, Gar, and Bernard watched silently from the dock, Conner read through the rest of the documents.

Some were old news articles, going over either Kryptonite and the downfall of CADMUS or the accident that had claimed the lives of Jordan and Lara, and very nearly their newborn son as well.

Some were files, all labeled carefully, detailing anything and everything Lex had learned about Clark.

His grades.

The fact that he'd been looking to apply to the Daily Planet right out of college.

A key to decipher his shorthand.

Even how he took his coffee.

Every little detail about Clark's life up until they'd lost contact had been taken down with an almost… clinical detachment.

Like he'd been observed and studied.

"CADMUS is… Lex's family's lab." Conner read.

Clark nodded. "When my father went public with what he'd found, they lost a lot. The lab almost closed down for good. As it stands, they were able to save face with the public by switching to solely doing medical research."

"Medical research like… fertility treatments. They've been able to have some success creating living, viable embryos from… same sex couples." Conner clicked open another file.

Lex had never been in love with Clark.

It had all been a lie.

But seeing all the proof laid out for him, in Lex's own words, no less, didn't make it easier to understand or accept.

"I had no idea he had any ties to CADMUS." Clark shook his head.

"But… according to this, he knew exactly who you were."

Bruce held Clark's hand tighter, and Clark could see the mer was also reading over Conner's shoulder.

"From what it looks like, after my father exposed CADMUS for trying to hide that they knew Kryptonite was dangerous, Lex's family dealt with a lot of money issues. They eventually made back their fortune, but not before nearly shutting down the lab." Clark took the computer back.

"He sought you out." Bruce concluded.

Clark nodded numbly. "The whole time we were together, he was studying me."

"He wanted to see if you were planning on going after his family, after they'd rebuilt CADMUS."

"I had no reason to. I didn't know he owned it. It's not exactly public knowledge that Luthor Industries owns CADMUS. But when he found out I was going to become a journalist, and that I was at the top of my class," Clark tapped the touchpad, bringing up one of the files he'd already read. "Lex decided to create a contingency plan. Just in case I ever looked any further into who killed my family."

"So… me." Conner stared blankly at the screen.

"We were open about our relationship all through college. If I ever started investigating my parents' murders… if I ever went public with anything against CADMUS, he'd be able to discredit my word and turn the whole thing into a scandal."

"A scandal he'd most likely come out on top of, once he produced a child biologically related to you, who you had never seen or sent child support to, right?" Conner reached over and opened another file to read. "But why did he wait four years?"

"... Because you were the contingency plan if I went after CADMUS." Clark looked over at Bruce. "I believed that everyone connected to my parents' deaths had been arrested, and the company was the same in name only. But Jimmy, Lois, and I got a tip several years ago that there were… not exactly legal… experiments being conducted there, so we started investigating."

"So… you went after CADMUS?" Tim asked, eyes wide and worried. "Isn't that why they killed your parents?"

Clark sighed and nodded. "Again, I had no reason at the time to suspect that the legally questionable experiments had anything to do with Kryptonite or the former CADMUS, but… the case was ultimately dropped."

"Wait, what? Why?" Tim leaned closer, resting his forearms on the metal railing of the boat.

"Because Dick showed up. I had to hand the case over to Lombard's team, and they ended up having to cover a serial arsonist. The case was dropped."

"And since you switched to remote work permanently, I guess Lex decided you were no longer a threat to his company." Bruce added.

Conner, slightly pale, looked up at Clark. "And… since he never actually wanted me in the first place, he put me up for adoption. Hell, even if you decided to look into CADMUS again, it's not like I ever left the city. He could have come and got me whenever he wanted."

Chapter Text

"Are you sure you don't want me to drive you back? Your motels on the other side of town."

"Thank you, Mr. Kent. But, I think we both just need to take a walk right now." Bernard answered.

Conner stood a few feet away from the both of them, glaring at the grass like he was trying to light it on fire with his gaze.

"Okay. Just, wait here for a second. Please." Clark jogged up the porch to the front door and pulled it open.

A second later, he returned, glad to see the boys hadn't left.

"Here." He held out a folded scrap of paper, having grabbed the first blank page he'd found. "I know… that wasn't what you were hoping for. The flash drive. And I understand if you decide you'd rather not see me again. But you said you wanted to know about your biological family. So, this is the contact information for my cousin, Kara. She's… she's my only other living relative."

Conner raised his head and half glared at Clark, like he was trying to read the other man. After a prolonged minute, he silently snatched the paper and shoved it in his pocket.

"It's up to you. Be safe on your way back." Clark waved at them as they left, Conner back to glaring at the ground and Bernard holding his arm, subtly guiding him so he didn't walk into anything.

Yyyyy

"How are you feeling after all that?" Bruce asked softly, a sound asleep Damian draped across him as he floated.

It was past his bedtime, but neither parent was too concerned, given the circumstances.

"It's a lot to process. I'm… I'm angry, for one. Lex knew I always wanted to be a father. And to put Conner through all that? *Our* son? His own flesh and blood? I can't understand how I ever used to love him."

"You were young."

"Yeah. And dumb. I'm a journalist. It's my job to be able to tell when people are lying to me." Clark sighed and rubbed his forehead. "I'm… I'm sorry you're getting dragged through this."

Bruce, with a slow wave of his tailfin, moved closer to the dock. "Don't be so hard on yourself. You couldn't have known he'd do something like this. I don't think anyone could have."

Clark didn't say anything, but reached his hand down to hold Bruce's.

"I just… I still can't wrap my mind around it. I've had a son this whole time. I could have been raising him. He could have grown up here. With our boys. With us. But… Lex couldn't even give him that."

Clark's phone rang just then.

A bit annoyed, he pulled it out to silence it, but instead answered it when he saw who was calling.

"Bernard?"

*Mr. Kent. Hi. By any chance, did Conner go back to your place?*

"Conner? Hang on. I'm down at the lagoon right now. Let me check up at the house."

He stood and retrieved the walkie talkie kept on the boat and pressed the button.

"Hey, is Conner with you guys?"

There was silence on the other side for a moment, and then Ma answered.

*No. Why?*

"Bernard's looking for him. Could you let me know if you see him? I've got to go."

*Of course.*

Clark put the walkie talkie back and picked his phone back up. "He's not here. What happened?"

*We were both pretty fried when we got back to the motel, so I laid down to take a nap, but Conner said he wanted to walk around some more. He was still gone when I woke up, and his phone's going right to voicemail.*

Clark frowned and hopped back down to the dock. "Do you know where he could be?"

*No. I'm heading out to look for him, though.*

"Okay. I'll help look. Call me if you find him."

*Same. Thank you, sir.*

"Conner's missing?" Bruce asked worriedly, shifting Damian as the pup stirred.

"Yeah. He's upset, and he doesn't know the area well, so I'm going to give Bernard a hand finding him."

Yyyyy

The sun hadn't fully set yet, which helped as Clark drove back towards town.

Smallville wasn't very big, population-wise, but due to how much of it was farmland there were back roads that went everywhere.

Conner could have easily gotten lost.

Clark tapped the brakes when he saw a figure up ahead, but quickly realized it was just a scarecrow.

In fact, it was the third scarecrow he had nearly stopped for.

He had been driving around for nearly forty-five minutes, mentally switching back and forth between cursing Lex, and hoping Conner hadn't wandered too far away.

There were wild animals in the area-

Wait.

Clark stopped his truck and backed it up until he was able to get a better look at what he'd seen.

Under a tree, several feet from the road, was a person.

He sat with his back against the trunk, knees pulled up to his chest, head bowed.

Clark pulled the truck off the road and hopped out.

"Conner." He called, approaching.

Conner ignored him turning his head away.

"Are you okay?"

"'M fine." Conner managed, voice thick.

"Bernard's worried about you. Why aren't you answering your phone?"

Conner closed his eyes and exhaled slowly, visably letting out some of the tension in his posture.

"The battery died." He admitted quietly.

Clark nodded and got down on one of his knees, giving Conner his space, but still talking to him on his level.

"Do you want to use mine?"

Conner didn't respond, and the two just sat in silence for a while, the only sound being the wind.

"I grew up with a sealed file." He finally whispered. "That means that whoever gave me up didn't want me knowing who they were. Contacting them. But I thought… I thought I was the product of an affair or something. That, maybe since it's been so long, it would be okay to find you guys."

"I'm sorry, Conner."

"I should have just stayed in Metropolis. Or actually stomped on that… that stupid flash drive."

He shifted a bit and Clark was able to see blood.

"Conner-,"

But as soon as he saw what Clark was looking at, he quickly shoved his hand in his pocket, wincing as the material hurt his raw knuckles.

"I tripped, okay? I fucking tripped."

"Okay." Clark said softly. It was obvious that he hadn't, that he'd punched something, but now wasn't the time to push. "Okay. Can I at least take a look at it?"

"No."

Clark frowned and looked back towards his truck. "What about Bernard? Will you let Bernard take a look at it?"

Conner glared at a bush, eyes fixed on it.

But he closed his eyes and exhaled again.

"Fine."

Chapter Text

Bernard and Conner's motel room was small, cramped, and cold.

There was a small box television on a dresser across from two twin size beds, old, yellowed wallpaper, and the lingering smell of damp, rotting wood.

Clark couldn't help but look around the room as Bernard tended to Conner's hands, using supplies he'd packed in a suitcase.

"This is gonna hurt." He heard Bernard say and watched as Conner barely flinched at the damp rag dabbing at his knuckles.

The blood was cleaned away and Bernard hissed softly, turning Conner's hands in the poor light to find and remove the splinters sticking out of his skin.

Both of his hands were torn up, bruised, and bloody, but what concerned Clark was the fact that Bernard had looked disappointed rather than surprised at the sight of them.

"You look like you've done this before." He remarked.

Bernard pulled another splinter out with his tweezers and glanced up at Conner rather than responding.

Conner stared back, and then dropped his gaze to the bedspread.

"I've… I've got anger issues." He whispered. "Been in therapy for them since I was ten. Bernard… he's seen me at my worst."

"I've seen you at your best, too."

Conner didn't respond to that, but Clark could see the tightening of his jaw.

He wasn't sure why, but seeing the two of them interact, like they were somewhat dependent on the other's presence, finally made something click in his head.

"Are you two here alone?"

Both boys froze.

"You're not in trouble. I'm just concerned."

Conner straightened up and rolled his shoulders, clearing his throat. "Don't be. We're fine."

"Are you two here alone?" Clark repeated.

Conner locked eyes with him, dropping his tone. "We're fine."

"Okay." Clark sighed and held up a hand, showing he wasn't trying to pick a fight. He'd been around enough traumatized teens to recognize Conner's defensiveness. "Look. You're both sixteen, in a filthy motel, in a town you don't know."

Bernard ducked his head and occupied himself putting everything back in his suitcase.

"Yeah? So what?" Conner moved himself between Clark and Bernard.

"Conner, I'm not trying to start a fight, but I need to know. Is there someone looking for you? Are you two runaways?"

"... No." Bernard whispered, putting his suitcase back and pretending like he didn’t notice Conner had put himself between him and Clark. “It’s complicated.”

Clark really didn’t like that answer.

"Look. Nobody's looking for us. We're each going to highschool online." Conner pointed to a laptop on a bedside table. "And trust me. We're used to worse conditions than this."

Okay.

Clark really, really didn't like that answer.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Nothing. Thank you for getting me back here, but we're fine on our own."

"I could smell from the doorway that these walls are filled with mold."

"We'll ask for a new room. Thank you and goodbye." Conner firmly stated, pointing towards the door.

"I don't think a new room will change much." Clark shook his head. "But does that mean you two will be staying in town?"

Neither responded.

"Where do you live, normally?"

"None of your business."

Clark decided to try another approach, as he seemed to be getting nowhere. "Where's the closest pharmacy?"

Both Bernard and Conner looked confused.

"Do you know where it is?"

They glanced at each other, and then Bernard shook his head. "No. Why?"

"Because that's something you're going to need to know if either of you gets sick. You also said you're both enrolled in highschool. While I'm glad you're getting an education, I know that doesn't pay anything. What have you been doing for money?"

Conner just stared at the floor, jaw tight.

"Have you just been going through savings?"

"What are you doing? Trying to scare us? Newsflash, asshole, we don't know you. Any connection we thought we had was fake. Fabricated. A lie. You don't need to worry about us, alright?"

"Conner, the circumstances-,"

"I don't give a rat's ass if we happen to share some DNA. The fact of the matter is you didn't even know I existed until I showed up and proved it. Bernard and I are fine on our own. Once again, goodbye."

Clark didn't want to, but he relented and turned to leave. "Okay. I'll leave. But, Conner, while you're still in town, could we at least get to know each other a bit?"

Conner, still standing firmly between him and Bernard, eyed Clark wearily for a long minute.

"... Fine."

Yyyyy

"Did you find him?" Bruce asked when Clark returned.

He'd curled up on the end of the dock to wait, Damian supposedly sleeping with the rest of the pod.

"Yeah." Clark sat down beside Bruce. "Yeah, I found him. He's angry about the whole situation. Did a real number on his hands, too."

That part, more than anything else he'd learned, worried Clark.

He'd been mad before, too.

But he couldn't wrap his head around how someone could be so filled with rage that they'd be able to do so much damage to themselves.

"They're going to be staying in town for a while, though."

Bruce nodded silently, looking a bit distracted.

"Is everything alright?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah. I was just thinking." Bruce admitted.

"Thinking about what?"

Bruce turned and scanned the lagoon before answering. "Clark, I love you. I do. But… I think we should put the wedding on hold for now."

Chapter Text

The boys had lied to him.

At least partially.

Clark frowned and tapped his fingers against the table his laptop was set up on.

Conner was officially listed as a runaway from his current group home, while Bernard had a single missing persons notice that had been retracted the same day it had been issued.

Which just so happened to be a week after an emergency room visit.

"You don't look like you found what you were hoping to." Pa sat down across from him.

Clark shook his head, letting out a deep breath.

"I've raised pups for years, but…"

"... Conner?"

"Conner." Clark nodded.

"Need any advice?"

"Plenty. But… I'm not sure you'll be able to help. This whole situation is just… I don't know if I should leave them alone, try and be some sort of responsible adult they can go to if they need help, or call the cops."

"What does Bruce think?"

"Bruce… he thinks we should postpone the wedding."

Pa grimaced. "Might not be the best idea there. You said he already feels you resent him for reminding you of Lex?"

"It might chase him off. Right."

"Find something small to do and see if he wants to join. That might be your best bet."

Clark nodded. "That sounds like a good idea. Thanks."

Yyyyy

Clark and Tim, two days later, pulled up to the motel to pick up Conner.

He had agreed to come with them to a neighboring farm, as Clark and Tim had been called to take a look at a new lamb.

Clark had figured that it wouldn't hurt to invite Conner along, as it was a short trip and he wouldn't be overwhelmed by the large family. He'd heard Bernard in the background of the phone call, encouraging Conner, but in the end, he was just glad he'd accepted.

"Hi." Tim greeted as Conner opened the passenger side door, scooting into the middle of the bench so the other teen could climb in.

"Hi. Um… Tim, right?" Conner tried, buckling his seatbelt.

Tim nodded. "So do you know what we're going to be doing?"

"I was just told someone's selling you a lamb."

Tim practically bounced in his seat. "Kinda. Except we're not buying it. If we want it, it's ours."

Clark backed out of the parking lot and pulled back onto the road, waving goodbye to Bernard, who smiled from the motel room doorway.

"They're just going to give it to you?"

Tim nodded. "Yeah. The ewe passed away and they don't have enough time to hand-rear it, but we've got a ewe who's experienced with raising lambs."

Clark could tell that Conner was still not comfortable around them, but Tim didn't seem put off by that at all. He was just happy to introduce someone to what was still one of his favorite animals.

"'Ewe'. That's the mom sheep, right?"

Tim tilted his head, slightly confused. "Yeah. Did you not know that?"

Conner shrugged. "Not a whole lot of sheep in the city."

"What, really?"

Clark took his eyes off the road just quick enough to get a good look at Tim's bewildered expression. "Really, buddy. You've been to Metropolis. I wouldn't be surprised if Conner's never seen a sheep before."

It didn't seem possible, but Tim managed to open his eyes even wider in shock. He whipped back around to Conner, but the teen was already shaking his head.

"I actually haven't. Just in movies. And some of those herding dog videos on the internet."

"So you've never pet a sheep before?"

Conner shook his head.

"What kinds of animals do you have in the city? I've only been out there once, and I didn't get much of a chance to look around."

"Well, pigeons, for starters."

Clark eased his foot off the gas and turned down the road the farm would be on, letting the boys talk.

"And?"

"There are a lot of stray cats. And pet cats and dogs. But there's really not a whole heck of a lot of animals besides that."

"Really?"

Conner nodded. "Most of us don't have the space for animals. My last place had six people living in a nine hundred square foot apartment."

Tim looked up at Clark, checking for any sign that Conner was messing with him.

Except Clark was looking at Conner, trying to figure out the same thing.

The conversation died as Clark pulled them into the driveway of their destination and parked the truck.

"Alright. Who's ready to see some animals?" Clark hopped down from his seat, hoping to brush aside the awkwardness. "Tim, come on out this way. I've got your chair."

"Okay." Tim scooted over and, using Clark's arm to brace himself, swung his tail down into the chair. "Let's go!"

Conner came around the front of the truck and fell into step beside Clark as they followed Tim over to the nearby barn.

"I've… never seen a mer use a wheelchair before."

Diana Trevor, the owner of the farm, appeared in the barn doorway and waved to them, greeting Tim as he reached her first.

Clark and Conner waved back, not quite as fast as Tim.

"Yeah. We've gone through a few modes of transportation over the years for him. When he was small, I used to carry him in a sling on my back."

"Is he not able to swim?"

"He can swim. He just prefers getting around on land."

"Clark, it's good to see you. Thanks for coming all the way out here." Diana greeted him with a hug, which Clark returned.

"It's no trouble. How have you been?"

Diana shrugged and gestured with her thumb back over her shoulder. "This is our first year lambing. We knew it wouldn't go perfectly, but Steve and I have been struggling to keep this little one alive. If Elizabeth was older, we'd let her help, but there's not much a two year old can do. What about you? Who's your friend?"

"This is…" Clark stopped talking as soon as he'd started, suddenly realizing he didn't know how to introduce Conner. "Um. This is Conner."

Diana smiled and reached out a hand to shake, which Conner accepted. "Nice to meet you, Conner. Now we might want to get moving. I'm sure Tim's already claimed the lamb as his own."

She turned and led them into the barn, down towards one of the stalls at the end.

Clark fell a few steps behind her, motioning Conner to do the same.

"Hey, I'm sorry about that. I wasn't sure how you wanted me to introduce you."

Conner, hands in his pockets, shrugged. "Just Conner's fine for now. I don't… really know how I feel about this whole situation, but 'son' or whatever feels like way too much, way too soon."

"Alright." Clark nodded.

They reached the stall and looked in.

Sure enough, Tim was sitting beside his chair in the sawdust, a very small lamb resting its head on his tail. Kneeling in front of him, holding their toddler on his knee, was Diana's husband Steve.

"Well, here she is. We've just been calling her 'Little One' so far, but feel free to change it. She was born three days ago, and so far we haven't had too much trouble getting her to take a bottle." Diana filled them in.

Conner, meanwhile, was staring at the lamb with such a look of confusion that Steve chuckled.

"You ever seen a newborn lamb before, kid?"

Conner shook his head and then looked at everyone else, apparently noticing that he was the only one weirded out.

"No, sir. But is she okay? I thought sheep had really short tails."

Steve nodded, standing up and hefting Elizabeth onto his hip. "Typically they do. But that's only because we dock them."

"Dock? Like, they're cut off?"

"That's right. I know it sounds bad, but we do it for their health."

The lamb, as if she knew they were talking about her, lifted her head slightly and headbutted Tim's hand.

Tim grinned widely, petting her. "I think she's hungry."

"I'll go get the bottle." Steve headed out of the stall, handing Elizabeth off to Diana.

"Conner, come here." Tim waved him closer.

Conner hesitated, but stepped through the door and knelt beside the two.

"Here. Do you want to pet her?"

Conner bit his lip and looked up at Clark and Diana, but the lamb, still looking for her bottle, headbutted him next.

Still a bit unsure, he reached out and carefully ran his fingers over the patch of wool between her ears on top of her head.

Growing frustrated, she bleated loudly, causing him to yank his hand back in surprise and Tim to laugh.

"Sounds like someone's getting hangry." Steve returned with the bottle and handed it down to Tim.

Tim passed it over to Conner, showing him how to hold it to let her eat.

Conner gradually relaxed and, pretty soon, was easily petting her.

By the time she finished the bottle and settled back down on Tim's tail to sleep, both boys were fawning over her.

Clark looked over at Diana and Steve. "Yeah, I think we're going to be taking her."

Chapter Text

"How long have you been out here?"

"Umm…"

"Tim." Clark crossed his arms.

"... What time is it?"

Clark closed his eyes and dropped his head. "Tim, you're a mer. You can't just stay out of the water like this. Especially when you're sitting in sawdust. You're going to dry out."

"She was crying!"

"I understand that. But you need to go take a soak in the pond for a bit. Now come on."

"Can I bring… uh, Icicle with?"

"Icicle?"

Tim ran his hand down the lambs neck. "I don't know what to call her yet, so I've just been going through names. I haven't decided on one, though."

"Alright, well, you can think up some more in the pond."

"Fine." Tim eased the lamb off his lap and set her bottle back in the stand he'd helped his grandfather make. "Bye, Elsa. I'll be back in a bit."

He then climbed back into his chair and headed with his father back to the pond.

"Do you have any name ideas? I'm kinda running out."

Clark shook his head. "Oh, no. I've picked out enough names over the years. This one's all yours."

"Are you sure?"

Clark nodded. "Good luck, buddy. I've retired from naming."

He got an eye roll in return. "Yeah, I'm sure 'Tim' took the last ounce of creativity you had."

"Hey, it was either 'Tim', or what Bruce wanted to name you."

Tim's head snapped up. "Wait, what? What did Bruce want to name me?"

Clark, noting that the ground was a bit more saturated than normal after the rain they'd had the night before, grabbed to back of Tim's chair to steady it so he could climb out and back into the water. "Bruce wanted to name you 'Drake'."

"Drake?" Tim grinned, moving his tail around, trying to alleviate the mild discomfort that always came with a dry tail. "Like… like a dragon? I could have been 'Drake'?"

Clark nodded and sipped his coffee.

"I could have been 'Drake' and you settled on 'Tim'?!"

"I suggested 'Tim' because, as Dick pointed out, you were going to be staying in what used to be our duck pond. And 'Drake' means 'duck'."

Tim's face simutaniously showed shock, disgust, and confusion. "Duck. Duck?"

"Yeah, 'Tim's' looking like a pretty good name now, isn't it?"

"He wanted to name me 'Duck'?"

"'Drake'. But, to be fair, he was thinking of the dragon."

Tim frowned and looked out across the pond, down towards the lagoon. "So I can't ask him for name ideas, either. Maybe Dick-,"

"No."

"What? Why not?"

Clark hoisted the wheelchair and moved it over to the boathouse, where it would be both safe, and easier for Tim to get back into it. Tim followed alongside in the water.

"You can if you want to. But I feel it's worth pointing out that, out of all the nicknames that can come from the name 'Richard', your brother has insisted for well over twenty years that he'll only answer to 'Dick'."

"So, you're saying the bar is so low it's on the floor."

"Precisely. You can call her 'Sheep' and it would probably be better than anything your family can help you come up with."

Tim frowned and then shook his head. "Nah. Damian's toy is already called 'Sheep'. And she deserves a name that's unique."

"Fair enough." Clark shrugged. "Well, you keep thinking, and I'll be back in a bit to help get Daisy into her pen so they can meet."

"Okay." Tim waved as Clark left the pond and headed down to the lagoon to see the rest of the pod.

Yyyyy

Dick, Victor, Wally, and Jason were on the dock, both fathers adjusting a few of Victor's prosthetics while Jason kept the pup occupied by showing off the tool belt he used for work.

Bruce, meanwhile, had the three younger pups in the water and was playing with a beach ball with them.

"Garfield, this one's to you. Get it!" Bruce tossed the ball up and smacked it deeper into the lagoon, laughing as the green pup bolted after it excitedly.

"What's this one do?" Victor asked, pulling out a small, metal device that was hooked to the belt by a retractable string.

"That," Jason proudly pulled it out and swung it around by the string before deftly catching and activating it, "is a high-powered, special issue, underwater flashlight."

"A flashli-ow."

"Sorry, buddy." Dick loosened the strap he'd been working on. "Is that better?"

"Yeah." Victor turned back to Jason. "You're salvaging old wrecks and they gave you a flashlight?"

"Hey. It's a very good flashlight, thank you very much."

"Jason, I hope that's not all they armed you with." Clark walked up to the group.

"Please. Do you have any idea how much I have to clear away before we're able to haul up most of our wrecks? I'm the most heavily armed one on the team. This here's just my basic, everyday tool belt." Jason grinned.

"Good." Clark leaned against his boat, watching Dick and Wally. "Is everything alright?"

Wally nodded, doing his best to fix Victor's tailfin. "Yeah. He's just been playing a bit rough. This thing's designed to be able to grow as he does, but sometimes the straps manage to shake loose."

"I think I've got it." Dick murmured. "There. Okay, Vic. Try lifting your tail. See if that feels snug."

Victor twisted around to look and braced his arms against the dock, wiggling his tail fin back and forth before lifting it into the air.

"That feels better."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Can I try it out?"

Wally scooted out of the way. "Let's go."

Victor scooted over to the edge of the dock and was lowered back into the water by his parents, who quickly followed.

Carefully, he flicked his tail and swam in a circle one way, and then the other.

When his tailfin stayed securely in place, he grinned and dove under the water, hurrying over to swipe the ball from his foster sister.

"Victor!" She slapped her tail against the water towards him but, as Clark was glad to notice, it wasn't in anger or fear.

She was playing with him, Garfield, Damian, and Bruce.

"Hey, Bruce." Jason called, swinging the belt back around his waist and fastening it. "Are you about ready to go?"

"Go?" Clark raised an eyebrow. "Where are you two off to?"

Bruce swam over, leaving the pups to Dick and Wally. "Jason's taking me to see where he works. He brought up something yesterday he thought I'd be interested in."

"Oh? And what's that?"

Bruce and Jason shared a look, Jason smirking.

"Just… something I asked him to keep an eye out for. If it's what I want, then you'll see when we get back."

Chapter Text

The lamb was named before Clark had finished preparing lunch.

Or rather, she was named while he was busy preparing Damian's lunch.

Dick and Wally had herded a small school into the lagoon so their pups could get some hunting practice, and Clark had taken Damian up to the house so they could do so without their uncle getting in the way.

As Damian was still adamantly vegetarian, he still needed his human father to make his meals for him.

"I asked you to watch your brother for ten minutes." Clark knelt beside Tim and Damian, handing over the food. "What did you do?"

Tim, grinning widely and snickering, failed completely at his attempt to look innocent.

"I didn't do anything-,"

"Cow!" Damian interrupted, pointing at the lamb in the stall.

Clark looked back and forth between his boys and then settled on Tim. "What did you teach him?"

"That was not me." Tim raised his hands in defense. "I don't think he actually knows what a cow is."

"I know what a cow is!" Damian demanded. "Her name's Cow!"

"She's a sheep." Tim tried, but the pup just shook his head.

"Cows have spots!"

"Dami, hey, look at me." Clark got his attention. "Do you think she is a cow? Or do you want to name her, 'Cow'?"

Damian huffed like it should have been obvious and thrust his tiny fist towards the lamb. "Cow!"

Clark sighed. "Okay, well. That's something we're going to have to figure out."

"Again, he came to that conclusion on his own."

"Really. So why were you grinning when I came in?"

Tim snickered again, trying to hide it behind his hand. "Damian and I named her."

"Dear god." Clark whispered and dropped his head.

"It's not a bad name! And it's unique, like I wanted. And Damian helped."

"What did you name her?"

Tim mumbled something.

"Couldn't hear that. Try again."

"I said we named her…" He broke off into a mumble again.

"Timmy, buddy, I love you. I do. But please speak up. I can't hear-,"

"Batcow."

"... What?"

"Batcow."

"Yeah, no. That time I did hear you. I just… what?"

"Her name's Batcow."

"Mhmm. Okay. And… how did we decide on 'Batcow'?"

Tim pointed to the lamb's ears. "When she's hungry or wants attention, her ears flap. They look kinda like fluffy bat wings. And Damian kept insisting she's a cow, so… Batcow."

"Batcow." Clark repeated the name.

Tim nodded. "Batcow."

"Batcow. Okay. And… you're sure? That's the name you settled on?"

Tim crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. "You know, you might want to be a little less judgemental given that you were the one who pointed out that you have a son named 'Dick'."

"You were waiting to use that one, weren't you?"

Tim grinned.

"Right." Clark got back to his feet and looked into the stall. "So, how are they doing?"

Daisy, their most experienced ewe, had been brought in to meet the new lamb and bond with her.

"They're doing really well together. Daisy's a good mama, and Batcow seems excited to have her attention. She keeps bouncing around."

As Daisy hadn't been bred that year and therefore didn't have a milk supply, Batcow the lamb would still have to be a bottle baby until she was old enough to graze, but she would now be able to socialize with her own kind.

"You know you're going to have to tell everyone who asks what her name is." Clark pointed out.

Timmy, his brilliant, snarky, smart-ass of a son just grinned wider. "That's what I'm counting on. This is going to be so much fun."

"Why are you like this?"

Tim looked him dead in the eye. "I blame my upbringing."

"I blame your father."

"I blame you, too."

Clark chuckled and ruffled Tim's hair. "I hope you realize, you're the reason for every one of my gray hairs."

"I do realize. But, you should really give Dick more credit. He's the one who taught me to swear."

"Yeah, about that." Clark pointed down at Damian, who was too busy eating and trying to share with Batcow to notice he was being talked about. "No teaching this one curse words."

"None?"

"None." Clark confirmed.

"Okay." Tim relented. "He won't learn any from me."

"Thank you."

"Starting now."

Clark closed his eyes and hung his head. "Starting now."

Before the conversation could continue, his phone rang.

*Incoming Call- Leslie*

"Leslie, hi." He greeted.

*Clark, you need to get to the clinic. Now.*

Instantly, his stomach dropped.

"Why? What happened?"

*Jason was just brought in. He's alive, but it looks like he was attacked. He's unconscious and cut up pretty badly.*

Chapter Text

Clark parked his truck and ran into the clinic lobby. There were already four people standing and sitting around the room.

As the front desk was empty, most likely because Leslie and Alfred were currently both tending to Jason, Clark walked up to the one person he recognized.

“Artemis, hi. What happened? Leslie said Jason was attacked?”

Artemis, the tall, red headed, salvage boat capitan Jason worked with, looked worried.

When she uncrossed her arms to shake his hand, Clark was shocked to see blood on her shirt.

A lot of blood.

She saw him looking and was quick to close her jacket. “Sorry.”

“Was there an accident? Is… is Bruce back with Jason?”

Artemis shared a look with Roy, another one of their team.

“No. I'm sorry.”

Artemis was about to say more, but the door opened just then and Alfred stepped out.

“Clark, good timing. He just woke up.”

“Can I see him?”

Alfred nodded and stepped aside, letting him walk through to the pool room while he informed Jason's team of his condition.

Clark headed straight for the pool Leslie was beside. It was one of the bigger ones towards the back, past the shallow pup-pools Timmy had been in.

Leslie stood to meet him partway.

“I need you to take a deep breath. He's going to be okay, but right now, he's in pain and confused. We don't want to stress him out and risk him hurting himself further.”

Clark listened and made sure he was calm when he approached the water.

Jason was on his back, held up by a special floatation device so he didn't have to struggle to stay afloat.

His eyes were half lidded, and there was a large bandage across his forehead, with dark bruising already forming below the edge of it.

His right arm was wrapped tightly up to his elbow and his torso had several rows of stitches weaving all different directions.

As Clark got closer and sat down beside the pool, he was able to recognize the unnatural blue tint in the water as a similar treatment to the one he'd used on Timmy.

“The water treatment is only being used as a precaution, to make sure he doesn't end up with any sort of infection. You won't need to keep it up once he's able to go home.” Leslie filled in, noticing him looking.

“When's that gonna be?” Jason asked, his voice soft.

“Depends on how your head heals up. You've got a pretty nasty concussion, though, so maybe a few days.”

Jason didn't look happy, but knew he wouldn't be able to fight his grandmother on something like this. “Great.” He then looked up at Clark. “What about Bruce? Did he make it out alright?”

Clark straightened up to check the other pools, noting that they were all empty.

“Is Bruce out back?” He asked Leslie.

Leslie just shook her head.

“Clark?” Jason flicked his tail a bit in worry, now a bit more alert. “Where's Bruce? He… got away, right?”

“Got away from what, Jay? Where were you two?”

But Jason wasn't listening. He was twisting himself around, craning his neck to look around the room.

“Bruce?! Where is he?”

“Jason, stop. You need to calm down. What happened? Where did you last see him?”

Clark was trying really hard to remain calm, but no one had told him anything yet, and it was starting to look more and more like Bruce was missing.

“Jason.” Clark knelt closer to the pool, close enough to reach out and put a hand on Jason's shoulder. “What do you remember?”

“I don't…” Jason looked up at him, and then around the room again. “I- I don't know. Where is he?”

“He might have some mild amnesia.” Leslie frowned.

“Jason, look at me. Okay? Take a deep breath.” Clark waited until his pup had done so before continuing. “Do you remember this morning? You were playing with Victor?”

Jason nodded. “We were horsing around and his tailfin slipped loose. Dick and Wally had to fix it.”

Clark nodded encouragingly. “That's right. What about after that? Do you remember anything?”

“You came down to talk to us. Bruce was hitting a ball for the younger pups and… you were holding your coffee.”

“Yes. Good. You said you were taking Bruce to show him something you'd found at work. Something he'd asked you to find.”

Jason nodded, and then his eyes widened and he tried to sit up again. “My tool belt. I didn't lose it, did I?”

Clark looked up at Leslie, who stood and retrieved it from a plastic bin beside the pool.

“We had to remove it so we could stitch you up. Here.” She handed it over to Jason.

Quickly, Jason fumbled to open the smallest pocket, but with a head injury and only the use of his left hand, he ended up nearly dropping it.

“I've got it. Hand it to me.” Clark held out his hand.

Jason glared at the hand, frustrated, but closed his eyes and relented.

“What am I looking… for…” Clark trailed off.

He was holding a ring.

“I didn't want to lose it. It… it took so long to find a good one.”

Clark barely heard Jason, but he heard his voice.

It was soft.

Hoarse.

Jason stared at the ring, fear and grief in his eyes.

“Sometimes we come across wrecks that have been officially abandoned. The people who own them don't want to pay for someone to drag them up, so we're allowed to keep whatever we find in the process of cleaning it up. I… I collected some jewelry and showed it off to Bruce and he asked me to let him know if I found a good ring for you.”

The band was black, with a clear stone set into the center of it, and a pale blue stone on either side.

“That yacht that went down eight months back? The one that was all over the news? We've been working on it for weeks now. The owners told us that, since everything's been dunked in saltwater for this long, we can keep anything we want. For… for bringing it back up for them. All they want to pay to restore is the boat.”

“Jason?”

“I brought up some rings for Bruce to go through, but he asked me to take him to the wreck, so he could see if there were any more that would suit you better. He had his heart set on a stone with meaning behind it, like the one you gave him.”

Clark stared at the ring in his hand, only then noticing that he'd begun shaking.

Only slightly, but still shaking.

“Jason? Where's Bruce?”

“We… We were just leaving the yacht. He came out of nowhere. A huge, red mer. He didn't give us any warning. Any chance to defend ourselves. I remember fighting, but he was… he was strong. Really strong. And then I woke up here.”

He looked up at Clark and Leslie, watering eyes showing just how scared he was.

“Where's Bruce? Please, just… just tell me he got away?”

Chapter Text

Artemis hadn't seen Bruce, and neither had the rest of the team. They'd seen Jason bring him by the boat, but, as the yacht wasn't too far of a swim, Jason and Bruce had left on their own to explore it.

Roy had been the one to notice that they'd been gone for longer than Jason had told him and insisted on heading out to check on them.

Which was when they'd found Jason, unconscious, bloody, and floating on the waves.

There had been no sign of Bruce and, since Jason was the only mer on the team and they hadn't brought any diving equipment, they had no way of checking if he was still with the boat.

As they'd needed to get Jason to the clinic quickly, they had radioed for the police, who were now checking.

Clark decided against waiting to hear from them.

Jason, Leslie, Alfred, and everyone else were also desperate for information, so he left the clinic and headed back to Smallville. He reached the harbor about half an hour later as a result of ignoring several speed limit signs.

He'd called ahead to keep his parents in the loop, and Pa ended up meeting him at the harbor.

Seeing him walk up, Clark felt his heart drop.

“What? What's wrong? Did they find him?”

Pa held up a hand, stopping him.

“Pa?”

“Clark, I'm sorry.”

“No.” Clark could see the growing crowd by one of the fishing boats.

There were two police boats with lights on off in the distance, and one more at the launch ramp, being off-loaded.

“They haven't found him yet, but…” Pa looked over at the small crowd. “Someone caught a video.”

Clark took off running.

Pa yelled at him to stop, but Clark was already pushing past people.

Someone was holding out a phone, playing the video.

Two large mers thrashed about at the water's surface, fighting and spraying up a massive amount of water.

Bruce.

He was being attacked by a large, red mer, easily several feet longer than Bruce and, as Clark realized in horror, a much better fighter.

The water turned red around them.

Bruce grew slower.

And then, with one hard tackle, the both of them vanished under the water.

“Where… where was this? How long ago did you take this?!” Clark demanded.

“Out there.” The fisherman, Arthur, pointed. Towards the yacht.

“That's Bruce. That's my husband!”

“I know. I showed this to the cops and they're keeping an eye out for him.”

What?

“Keeping an eye- What else are they doing?”

Arthur rewound the video and paused it on a clear shot of the red mer's face.

“That's the boat sinker. Trigon is in our waters!”

Yyyyy

That afternoon, the entire family was gathered in the swimming area behind the clinic.

Jason was free from his floatation device, but was curled up in the shallow end.

Dick was in the deepest part, ottering with Raven curled up against his chest, trying his best to hold himself together.

Not only was Bruce missing and injured, but, now that Trigon had shown up, Raven was no longer safe with them.

Her social worker would be coming in two days to take her to an inland facility.

Raven had already cried herself to sleep in his arms.

Wally was floating beside him, ottering with Victor, and occasionally bumping into Dick with a whispered word of comfort or two.

Clark held Damian and had one arm wrapped tightly around Tim, while Leslie was seated in a nearby chair with Gar.

Alfred and both of Clark's parents had gathered around an outdoor table, keeping themselves distracted by going over Raven's paperwork, trying to see if there was any way they'd be able to regain custody after Trigon was arrested.

Anything to keep their minds off of the continuously silent phone.

Anything to keep their minds off the fact that one of them was missing.

“The cops are going to find him. Right, Dad?” Tim whispered.

Clark wanted to say yes.

He desperately wanted to.

He even tried to.

But…

He'd already told himself that once before.

When Jason had vanished.

He'd been wrong then, and this time, finding Bruce wasn't even the cops' top priority.

He couldn't let Bruce just disappear.

He wasn't going to just let the cops handle the search.

“Your father will be home before you know it, Timmy. I promise you.”

He'd make sure of it.

Damian made a small noise and shifted in his sleep, and Clark looked down at him.

“How? They don't even know if he's…”

“Hey. He'll be okay.”

“Dad, I'm not a pup.” Tim whispered, not wanting their conversation to be overheard. “Trigon’s been sinking boats. Bruce… the biggest thing he's ever fought off was a lemon shark. A-and that wasn't even really a fight. He just scared it and it left.”

Clark opened his mouth, but then closed it again. He wanted to comfort Tim. He wanted to tell his family that Bruce would be alright.

He wanted to tell himself.

But…

Jason was also bigger than Bruce.

And stronger.

He had also been trained specifically to fight ruthless opponents.

And he hadn't stood a chance.

Clark knew the odds weren't good, but…

He couldn't accept that.

He wouldn't accept that Bruce was gone.

Not when there was still a chance.

Not when he still had a boat.

Chapter Text

There wasn't even a sputter when Clark turned the key.

“Tim, come sit here.” He got up from the chair by the steering wheel and held out a hand to help Tim up onto the boat.

Tim accepted the help and used his arms and tail to make his way to the chair. He pulled himself up and settled in his place, looking expectantly at his father.

“Turn that key when I say so, okay? Just like you're starting the truck.”

“Okay.” Tim nodded and positioned his hand by the key.

Clark knelt and opened the engine-,

*Snap!*

The handle broke off the latch to the engine compartment the moment Clark applied pressure.

“Uh, oh. That's not good.” Tim winced.

“No.” Clark dropped the latch, letting it clatter against the deck. “That's not. But it's an easy fix. Can you hand me a screwdriver? We're just going to have to break in.”

Tim hopped back down from the chair and scooted over to the toolbox to grab the tool.

“Hey, Dad? Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

Tim handed over the screwdriver.

“Are you sure this is a good idea? Going after Trigon, the boat sinker, in a boat?”

“I don't really have much of a choice, buddy. But don't worry. Trigon's only ever targeted boats before.”

“Oh, wow.” Tim deadpanned. “You're right. How comforting.”

“What I mean is, he's never kidnapped another mer before. Chances are, he's not in the area anymore.”

Tim frowned and looked out over the water to the inlet. “If that's the case, why hasn't Bruce come home?

Clark paused his attempt to unscrew the latch. “... Buddy-,”

“You said he was hurt. What if… what if he's more than that?”

“Right now, I'm just choosing to focus on the fact that your father's got a horrible sense of direction. It won't be the first time he's gotten lost.”

“You think so?” Tim asked, picking out another screwdriver from the box and started working on the screw closest to him.

“I really hope so.” Clark finished his side of the latch and pulled it out. He then reached into the hole it had left and pulled up the hatch to peer down into the engine.

Tim gagged and jumped back, knocking the lid back down.

“That's nasty. What is that?”

Clark used a finger to lift it again, enough to see inside.

“I think it used to be a rat. Maybe.”

“Ew. Well, at least we found out what happened to the engine.”

Yyyyy

Clark and Tim spent the next several hours taking the engine apart and carefully removing any and all trace of the rat.

Rats.

There were four dead rats.

They had gotten in through a small knothole in the wood that had slowly rotted over the years.

Wood was also added to the list of things they'd need from the hardware store, though they both agreed that replacing the hatch door wasn't as pressing of a problem as fixing the engine was.

Down below in the lagoon, Dick, Wally, and their pups spent the day together.

They had officially decided to skip the last four months of their migration and move into the lagoon so they could both help in the search for Bruce, and try to fight for custody of Raven.

Taking her to an inland facility was something that was going to be nonnegotiable, as Trigon was too dangerous to risk keeping her in the water.

But she was their daughter.

After they had switched to respecting that she wanted to answer to ‘Raven’, she had started opening up to them.

Dick and Wally were the first ones she'd met, human or mer, who actually listened to her, and, if she were taken away, there was no guarantee that she'd end up with caretakers who would continue calling her ‘Raven’.

She was scared, and they were all scared for her, but her safety was still what took priority.

So she got to spend two days with her foster family while her transportation was arranged, and her dads were making sure to spend that time making her feel like a normal pup, as much as they could.

They were currently giving all three pups a hunting lesson, having herded a sizable school of fish into the lagoon. The inlet was in the process of closing and trapping them all, but it wasn't closed yet so Jason positioned himself at the opening, making sure none of the fish escaped.

“Raven, watch your tail. Keep it under the water. If you splash, you'll scare the fish.” Wally directed.

Raven quickly lowered her tail, eyes fixed on the fish he'd helped her corner.

She lunged towards it with her spear, but missed and ended up stabbing a tree root.

“Good try. You almost had it that time.” Wally encouraged her.

She huffed, frustrated, and set her sights on a new fish.

“You've got it. Nice and slow.” Wally whispered, creeping up alongside her and subtly blocking the fish's escape.

Once again, she lunged.

This time, though, her spear caught the fish. Not solidly, but just enough to wound it.

Excited, she dropped her spear and flicked her tail, catching her fish with her bare hands and killing it.

“I did it. I caught it! Did you see that? I caught it!” Raven beamed, holding her fish up for them all to see.

Clark, Jason and Tim applauded while her dads and Victor hugged her.

Gar was still too young to fully understand what was going on, so he just clapped along with the others for a second before returning to chasing the fish around the lagoon. He wasn't able to start actually hunting yet, so he assisted by tiring the fish out for his siblings.

“Good job, Raven!”

“You did it!”

“We're so proud of you.”

Dick took the fish from her and led her over to the dock, away from where Victor was continuing his hunt.

“Come on, let's eat over here. I'll take out the bones for you.”

Raven nodded and followed him, and Clark and Tim turned back to dismantling the engine.

Only to pause when they heard Raven's voice once again, this time much softer.

“Hey, Dick?”

“Yes?”

“Do you… do you think I'll ever see you again?”

Dick was silent for a second, hands freezing in the fish.

“I really, really hope so, sweetheart.”

“Me, too. I think I kinda liked having a family.”

Chapter Text

The day they had to hand Raven over to her social worker was hard.

She cried, and Clark could see it in his eyes that Dick had to fight the urge to grab her back, but in the end, they knew she would be safer at a facility.

So they hugged her, and promised she'd still be able to talk on the phone with them, and tried their best to let her see this as just another adventure rather than something that had to be done to protect her life.

And then, with heavy hearts, they let her go.

Yyyyy

Clark grunted in frustration and sat back, wiping his brow with the back of his wrist.

Tim was up at the barn, taking care of the animals, while Dick and Wally had taken the boys to explore the harbor now that the last of the migrations had moved on, and Jason was out with his team to help with the search.

None of them voiced it out loud, but they all knew that Bruce's odds weren't good, given how long he'd been missing, and they kept getting worse the more time passed.

Not for the first time, Clark wondered if it would be better to just try and buy an entirely new engine, but that would take months to arrive. He had enough salvageable parts to rebuild the one he had, but that was also going to take time.

Significantly less time than ordering a new one, but still time that Bruce might not have.

He had just picked his wrench back up to keep working when the sound of footsteps on the dock let him know he wasn't alone.

“Clark, hi. Um… your dad said you were down here.” Conner, hands shoved deep in his jacket pockets, looked uneasy.

Possibly due to the fact that Bernard wasn't with him.

“Conner. I'm sorry I haven't called in a few days.” Clark stood and wiped his hands on a rag, though that did nothing to clean them of the black grease they'd gotten covered in.

Conner just shook his head. “Don't worry about it. I just heard what happened to Bruce. I'm… I'm so sorry.”

“Thank you.”

“I don't…” Conner started, and then stopped. He bit his lip and studied his shoes, looking like he was struggling to find the words. “Would you like help? With… with that?” He finally pointed at the engine pieces Clark had strewn about the deck of the boat. “I don't know anything about boats, but I did general maintenance on a motorcycle engine for a few years, so I know… some things.”

“Are you sure?”

Conner nodded. “I want to help. If that's alright.”

Clark held out a hand to help Conner over the railing of the boat. “I'll take all the help I can get. Watch your step.”

Conner walked around to the other side of the hatch and only had to move a few parts to be able to kneel down.

“Do the police know anything?”

“He and our son Jason were looking through an abandoned shipwreck when they were attacked. The police think that the reason they haven't had much luck finding Trigon until now was because he's been hiding out in sunken ships.”

“So… he went after Bruce and Jason because they swam into the wrong shipwreck?”

“Can you hand me the wire cutters?”

“Here.”

“Thanks.” Clark adjusted his position so he could reach more comfortably into the hatch to attach the wires where they needed to go while Conner watched. “And, yeah. Trigon must have just moved in, though, because that wreck had only been empty for a day.”

“How do you know? Is that when it sank?”

“No. Jason's on the team that's been working to bring it back up. They got permission from the owner to take what they wanted, since all he wanted to keep was-,”

“‘The Queen of the Sea'.” Conner finished for him.

Clark sat back and raised an eyebrow at him. “I don't know what the boat’s called.”

“Was it a yacht? It sank eight or nine months ago a few miles off the coast?”

“I just know what Jason told me, but that does sound like the same boat. Why? How do you know it?”

Instantly Conner clammed up, dropping his gaze back to the hatch. “I, uh… I know the owners.”

Clark didn't push for further information, but he did feel his suspicion rising.

He didn't want to feel uneasy around Conner, especially when he was still trying to get to know him, but he couldn't shake the feeling.

How did a foster kid know someone who owned a yacht?

“Owners?”

“It's not Lex.” Conner picked up a socket wrench and started fiddling with it, making it click. “I'd tell you if I knew he was in the area.”

“Okay.”

Neither spoke for a second, and Clark leaned back down to continue his work.

“Look, I-,”

Clark sat back again. His knees weren't built for this.

“I know we didn't get off to a great start, and now probably isn't the time, but… I wanted to thank you.” Conner held out one of his hands, showing the fresh bandages. “For getting me back to Bernard that day. And… for not just ditching me as soon as you saw what I did to myself.”

“You were scared. And angry.”

“Please don't try the whole, ‘just doing what anyone would have done’ thing. You didn't. Or… most anyone else wouldn't have. What I'm trying to say is…. in sixteen years, you're one of the only people who… still treated me like a person.”

Clark frowned.

“My anger issues are usually written off as, well, optional, I guess. Like I can control them, but just decide to act out. I've had several foster parents who tried to take me out of therapy because, in their minds, anger issues are a sign that someone just hasn't been punished enough.”

Conner kept clicking the tool in his hands as he talked, the constant sound apparently giving him something to focus on.

“You talked to me. I came into your life at the worst possible time, dredged up memories of your bastard ex and your parents’ deaths, and then went and got myself lost. And you… you found me. And talked to me. And made sure I was okay.”

The clicking stopped.

“I don't want to overstep or anything, but… would it be alright if the two of us started over? Like, from scratch?”

“You mean put aside everything having to do with Lex?”

“... Yes. I really would like to get to know you.”

Clark got to his feet, hearing his knees crack as he did so.

Conner copied him, hesitating only slightly when Clark stuck out his hand.

“In that case, hello. I'm Clark Kent, and I'd really like to get to know you as well.”

Conner smiled in relief and clasped his hand in a firm handshake. “Conner Jones. It's nice to meet you.”

Chapter Text

“What's your favorite Tim Curry movie? Don't think about it, just answer.” Tim crossed his arms.

“Um-,”

“Ah! I said don't think.”

Conner crossed his arms and stared back at Tim. “Don't laugh?”

“Won't laugh.”

“The 2008 Speed Racer live action adaptation with John Goodman as Pops Racer.”

Tim nodded in approval.

“Favorite Michael Caine movie?”

“Christmas Carol. Orrr… maybe Flawless?”

“Okay.” Conner bit his lip, pausing to look back through the manual he was using to figure out what part to grab next. “Can you hand me that?”

Tim picked up the piece Conner had pointed to and handed it over. He had maps of the surrounding coastline and seafloor spread out around him, marking off any area an injured mer might be.

“What about… favorite Scooby-Doo movie?”

“Hm.” Conner thought for a second, tightening down a screw. “I think… Pirates Ahoy.”

“That's a good one.”

“Thanks.”

Clark listened almost absently to the boys talk, most of his attention going to installing the repaired or replaced parts into the engine hatch.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Tim asked.

“Sure.”

“Where's Bernard? You're usually always with him.”

Clark tried to pretend he wasn't just as curious.

“Bernard’s up at the house. He managed to talk your grandma into some cooking lessons. And we're not always together. He just… helps me. I'm not great with handling really stressful situations, but I'm doing better. Setting goals and all that. So, we've been working on doing our own things.”

“That's cool that you have a friend like that.”

“Yeah. He's a good guy.”

Tim shuffled around a few of the maps, quietly fidgeting.

“So… so that whole ‘setting goals for yourself' thing really works?”

Conner handed his part over to Clark and looked back down at the manual. “Well it's worked for me. Can't really speak for everyone, though.”

“Do you think… you could give me some advice, then?”

Clark looked up, paying more attention now.

“Advice? On what?” Conner asked.

Tim turned to look over towards the inlet and Clark felt his heart clench slightly.

It had been nine years since Tim had come to live with them, and he'd still not managed to swim beyond the inlet.

Once, during one of Tim's good days back when he was still mute, Dick had tried to carry Tim past the barrier so he could show him their meet-up spot for if they ever got stuck during low tide.

It had been the only time they'd tried to force him.

“Don’t laugh?” Tim asked.

“Won't laugh.” Conner promised.

“I… I can't leave the lagoon.”

“Can't like… you're not allowed?” Conner glanced at Clark.

Tim shook his head. “Can't like… can't. I almost died when I was young and ever since…” He sat back and hugged his arms over his chest. “I've tried psyching myself up. I've tried forcing myself. I've even tried getting into the water from different banks and boat launches. But every time, no matter what I do, my… my body will just freeze. You know those dreams where something is trying to hunt you down, but you can't see it? And no matter how hard you struggle you can't move? It's like that.”

“Is that why you're usually on land?”

Tim nodded. “I want to get better. I want to be normal. I… want to be able to help find my dad, or… or even just visit the harbor. I've lived here over half my life and I've only ever seen it from a humans point of view.”

Conner appeared to study Tim in silence for a minute before coming to a descision. “That pen and paper over there. Can you hand them to me?”

Tim picked up the small notebook and pen and had to reach to get them to Conner without disturbing any of the boat parts and tools.

“So, like I said, this doesn't work for everyone, but I can walk you through what's helped me.”

“Okay.”

“What's something you've always wanted to do? Something that you've always dreamed of doing, but you can't because you can't leave the lagoon.”

“Like… going to the harbor, all by myself?”

“Ehh, maybe dream a little bigger. For example, I've always wanted to perform on stage.”

Tim thought quietly, face scrunched up in concentration.

“Coral reefs.” He finally said. “My Uncle Jimmy is a photographer, and anytime I see him, he's always got these amazing photos that he's taken. And with each one, he's able to tell a whole story about what it was like to be there, to get the shot. I want to do that, too. To not just have photos, but to be able to point to any of them and say, ’I was there. I took that photo.’ I… I want to be able to take my own photos of coral reefs one day.”

Conner nodded in approval and wrote down Tim's goal on a blank page.

“There. Now you have something firm to work towards, rather than just a vague idea. 'Normal' doesnt do a whole lot to help here.”

“Great.” Tim sat back, and looked at the page expectantly. “Now what?”

“Well,” Conner turned the notebook around so Tim could read it. “This is your end goal. Do you feel like going out and accomplishing it right now?”

Instantly, Tim frowned and sat back, glaring suspiciously.

“Don't worry. You don't have to. But you can start taking baby steps towards this goal until you're ready to reach it. Just think of it like this; you might not be ready to photograph coral reefs, yet, but that's okay. You don't need to. Right now all you need to do is-,” Conner tossed a nearby ball out towards the inlet. “Go get the pups' toy.”

Tim stared wide eyed at the ball as it bobbed lightly in the small waves, slowly inching it's way further into the inlet.

“What?”

Clark wanted to step in, but something told him to wait.

“It sounds like you keep overthinking what's out there, and that leads to you getting overwhelmed. The lagoon is home, so it's safe, while out there is… literally everything else. So right now, I want you to just focus on the ball. Not what's out there. Not the harbor or the coral reefs or anything else. Those are bigger goals that are further down the list. For today, right now, your end goal is that ball. That's it. That's as far as you have to go.”

“That's…” Tim cleared his throat and exhaled slowly. “Okay.” He whispered, gathering his maps and setting a toolbox on top of them so they didn't blow away.

He then scooted to the edge of the dock and dropped down with a splash.

Clark sat back to watch, and then stood, the engine temporarily forgotten about as Tim swam closer and closer to the inlet.

He reached the enterence and paused, poking his head out of the water.

The ball was just a few feet in front of him, but that still put it further into the inlet then he'd ever managed to get before.

He seemed to hesitate, but slowly, determinedly, he crept closer.

And closer.

And closer.

The instant it was within arms reach, he grabbed it and, in a single, fluid motion, flicked his tail as hard as he could, propelling himself back into the lagoon.

“I did it!” He cheered, holding the ball out of the water the whole way back to the dock. “I did it! Did you see that? My whole body was in the inlet and I didn't freeze once!”

Clark held out his hand and hoisted Tim back up onto the dock, wrapping him in a bear hug. “I saw, buddy. Good job. I'm so proud of you.”

Tim laughed and, when Clark set him back down, smiled wide at Conner.

“Thanks. Thank you, Conner.”

Conner smiled back and passed him the notebook. “Go ahead and mark it down. Little victories, big ones, don't forget to keep track. And, if you ever feel like you aren't actually making any progress, you can look back at how far you've come.”

Tim nodded and set the notebook on the wood planks, drying off his hands before picking up the pen.

Goal- Swim into the inlet.

Success.

Chapter Text

Bruce had been missing for three days.

The police had no leads.

Jason's team hadn't found anything.

And Clark was still not able to get out on the water.

It was at the point that he was almost tempted to dig out his canoe and head out to search in just that.

But he knew that wouldn't work.

He wouldn't get Bruce back by making dumb, impulsive decisions.

But he also felt helpless just working on-,

“Ow!”

Clark jerked his head up, startled.

Conner held his hand, wincing in pain.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah.” Conner’s voice sounded tight. “Yeah, I'm fine. Just got myself with the screwdriver.”

“That looks bad.” Dick pulled himself up onto the dock, being careful to not bump into anything they were working with.

Clark rose and walked over to take a look as well, kneeling beside Conner and pulling his hand away from the injured one.

“That looks deep. When was your last tetanus shot?”

“Uh, two years ago?”

“Okay. You should be fine, then. But let's still get you up to the house. We need to get that cleaned up.”

“Yeah, okay.” Conner let himself be helped to his feet.

“Dick, could you keep an eye on our things here? Just make sure nobody touches anything.”

Dick nodded and got in the water, swimming back over to his pups.

Yyyyy

Bernard was just pulling a fresh baked loaf of… something… out of the oven when Clark and Conner walked in.

“Hey- What happened? You're bleeding.”

“I'm fine.” Conner shrugged easily, quickly hiding the injury under a few paper towels. “Pay attention to the oven before you burn yourself.”

Bernard frowned but didn't protest when Clark led Conner over to the kitchen table and handed him a damp rag to clean his hand with.

The screwdriver had poked right through the bandages that were still wrapped around his knuckles, so those had to be removed before they could see just how deep it had gone.

“This has been really well taken care of.” Clark commented, depositing the used bandages into a nearby trashcan.

“Yeah. Bern took a first aid class about a year ago. He knows his stuff.”

Bernard turned somewhat red in his cheeks, flattered at the praise. “That was back when I thought I wanted to go into the medical field.”

“What made you change your mind?” Ma asked. She handed over a first aid kit she'd retrieved from the restroom and came over to check out what Bernard had just pulled out of the oven.

“I, uh… realized I didn't have the stomach for it.”

Clark was almost about to ask him to elaborate, just in the name of keeping the conversation going so Conner would have something to focus on while he worked, until he saw the way Conner's eyes hardened.

It was only for a moment, though, because right after Clark noticed, Conner nodded at the oven.

“What'd you make? It smells good.”

“Oh! Ah… it's… toast-bread.”

“Toast-bread?”

Conner hardly flinched when Clark dabbed his wound with rubbing alcohol. It wasn't too deep, and it was almost done bleeding, so he decided to just wrap it in some new bandages.

“Toast-bread.” Bernard confirmed with a nod. “It's like regular bread, but pre-toasted because we forgot to set a timer.”

“Jonathan is out in the barn helping Tim with Batcow and Bernard and I decided to go see them while it was baking.” Ma filled in.

“I see.” Conner stood and clenched his hand a few times, testing his range of movement with the new wrapping. “Thanks, Clark.”

“No problem. Does that feel alright?”

“Yeah. It feels great, thanks.” He replied, and then walked over to Barnard. “Is it still okay to eat?"

“It should still be fine to eat. It's just a little well done.” Ma grabbed some mittens and transferred the loaf to a cooling rack. “It should be cool enough to slice soon, and we can send it home with you boys. Does that sound alright?”

“Yes, ma'am. That sounds great.” Conner smiled, looking excited.

“I'm going to get back to work. Conner, are you staying up here?” Clark asked, putting the first aid kit back together.

“No. I can keep working. I'll just be more careful with the tools.”

“And water.” Bernard called after them as they left. “Don't get ocean water in that.”

“I won't.” He promised.

The two made their way back down to the lagoon, opting to take the easier trail as kneeling on the deck and working in the engine hatch had been doing a number on Clark's joints.

“Hey, um… thanks. For letting me help.” Conner rubbed the back of his neck. “And… I'm sure Bruce will be okay.”

“Thanks. I'm sure he will.” Clark looked down at his hand, the ring Bruce had found for him already on his ring finger. “And you've been a great help. You said you've worked with a motorcycle engine before?”

“Yeah. One of my old foster families had one. Their grandfather found out I'd never had anyone teach me anything about them before, so we spent a whole summer fiddling with it. He showed me how to read the manuals and figure out what needed to be fixed, and even how to navigate an auto shop.”

“You seem to have learned a lot from him.” Not for the first time, Clark found himself… almost mourning.

There was so much of Conner's life that he'd missed out on.

So many experiences.

Milestones.

Moments.

He was glad to hear that, despite growing up in foster care, Conner had still managed to find role models and mentors.

“I did. He taught me… more than anyone else bothered to.” Conner cleared his throat, seemingly to help change the subject. “I take it you learned how to work on your boat by helping… uh, Jonathan?” He made a face, pronouncing the name slowly. “I'm sorry. I realized part way through asking that I still don't know how to refer to them.”

“That's alright. You can ask them, if you'd like. I promise they won't try to get you to call them anything you're not comfortable with.”

“... Okay. I think I will.”

“But, yeah. Pa always made sure I knew how to work on everything we owned. Come to think of it,” Clark nodded up the trail towards the lagoon. “I was sixteen when I bought that. Spent quite a while fixing it up with… my dad.” Clark turned to scan the waterline.

Conner was quiet, and then he heard, “That's pretty cool.”

They walked in silence for a ways, still not quite used to talking.

This silence, though, felt a bit different than ones they'd shared in the past few days. They were growing more comfortable with each other.

“Hey, who's that?” Conner asked suddenly, stopping in his tracks.

“Who?” As he asked, Clark's eyes landed on two mers, seated on the bank, glaring at them.

Two tri-colored mers.

Chapter Text

The mers held their looks of disgust and annoyance in silence for long enough that, despite the shock of recognizing their scales as being nearly identical to Tim's, Clark almost felt like he was the intruder.

Finally, though, the man turned to the woman, presumably his wife, and muttered what sounded like, “humans.” under his breath.

“Can I help you?” Clark stepped forward, motioning for Conner to stay where he was.

“Yeah. Leave.” He sneered, flicking his hand like he was dismissing Clark. Or maybe trying to shoo him away. “We're mourning in private. Now move along.”

“You're on my property.” He took another step towards them, less friendly now. “What are you doing on my property?”

The closer he got, the more he was able to pick out familiar features and his doubts fell away.

The wife had long, dark hair that curled the exact way Tim's did, while her husband's dark blue eyes looked so similar to his that Clark felt almost sickened.

These mers… it couldn't just be a coincidence.

They were Tim's bio parents.

“Like I said,” the husband braced his arms against the ground, turning to fully face Clark and Conner. “Mourning. Our son died here. Now do you mind?”

“Your son?” Clark's mind was racing, but at the forefront of it all was the urge to get mad.

To chase them off.

To make sure they knew that, no, Tim wasn't theirs.

And they had never been his.

“Yes. Our son. Now, please, do you mind?” The wife crossed her arms.

Clark was not a man who showed anger easily, but in that moment?

Bruce was both missing and injured.

Raven had been taken from them right when they'd been making progress.

And now Tim's parents had shown up suddenly.

The husband huffed and leaned closer to his wife, muttering something Clark couldn't hear, before turning back to them and growling lowly. “I'm not in the mood to dumb this down any more for you, human. Leave.”

“Get off my property.” Clark stepped closer. “Get the hell off my property.”

“Jack, let's just come back later.” The wife put her hands on her husband's arm, holding him back, and Clark was suddenly reminded of the couple he and Dick had seen in the floating market.

The couple that had been watching Raven and Tim.

‘...looks so much like him…’

That's what had been said, and Clark was hit with the startling realization that… they hadn't been comparing how much Raven looked like her father.

They'd been remarking on how much Tim resembled their son.

Was that why they were here now?

They had just been reminded of him?

“Get out of here.”

“How dare-,”

“Now!” Clark snapped, swinging an arm up to point out to sea.

“Jack. Come on.”

Jack snarled at Clark, livid and making sure to bare his teeth.

The two stared at each other in tense silence, until Jack finally relented and allowed his wife to drag him away.

“Um. Clark?” Conner's voice was soft behind him, and Clark squeezed his eyes shut.

“Conner, I… I'm sorry.”

“Do you know them?” Conner looked like he was wary, but trying to withhold judgment until he found out what had just happened.

“Not… directly.” He sighed and ran a hand down his face. “But I'm almost entirely certain that they're Tim's biological parents.”

Conner nodded and gazed out towards where the mers had vanished. “Tim said he almost died. I take it… they had something to do with that?”

Clark nodded.

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

The companionable silence they had shared not even a minute ago was now gone, with Conner awkwardly standing back where he was and Clark, taking a deep breath, trying to figure out what to do next.

“Look, um, I'm… I'm really sorry you had to see that, but would you mind running ahead and letting Dick know that we saw them? I need to make sure Tim stays up at the house.”

Conner nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

Yyyyy

Clark found Tim in the barn with Pa, Batcow having just settled down to sleep.

Pa heard him approach and turned to greet him, but stopped when he saw Clark's expression.

“What's wrong?”

“I need to have a talk with Tim.”

Tim frowned, backing his wheelchair out of the stall and sliding the door shut. “Did I forget to turn the hose off again?”

“No.” Clark shook his head. “You're not in trouble. But… something's come up-,”

“Is it Bruce? Is he back?” Tim excitedly cut him off.

Clark just gave his father a glance, nodding his head back towards the entrance.

Pa, thankfully, got the message and nodded. “I'll be in the house.”

Tim watched him leave and looked up at Clark. “Dad? What's going on?”

Clark thought carefully about what he wanted to say, and then got down on one knee so that he and Tim could talk on the same level.

“Buddy-,”

“Is- Is it the dogs? Did something happen? Are they okay?” Tim asked.

He was scared, able to see in Clark's face that this wasn't going to be a good conversation.

“The dogs are just fine.” Clark assured, clearing his throat. “But… buddy, I'm pretty sure I just ran into your bio parents.”

Fear flashed in Tim's eyes where a second ago there had been concern.

“W-what?”

“Look at me. You're going to be safe here, do you understand?”

“Are you sure it was them?”

Clark was sure, but he'd also never actually met them before.

“Is your father's name Jack?”

Tim's knuckles turned white as he gripped his wheels, and his gills flared.

“Tim.”

His eyes widened even more as he realized he couldn't breathe, his gills currently being nowhere near water.

“Tim, look at me. Look at me. You're okay. You're okay, buddy. I'm right here. Just breathe.”

Tim didn't appear to be able to hear him, though, as his gills flared out again, trying desperately to breathe despite the lack of water.

Clark jumped up and grabbed his shoulders, but Tim's eyes were glazed over in panic.

“Tim!”

Tim's hands came up and clutched at his throat, fingers scrabbling frantically.

“Tim, breathe!” Clark, not knowing what else to do, gave his shoulders a firm shake, just trying to snap him out of it.

It worked and, with a gasp, Tim started breathing correctly again.

“I've got you. I've got you. Are you okay?”

Tim didn't answer right away. He just sat there, working on slowing his breaths, rhythmically tapping his fingers.

Clark took one hand off his shoulder and gently brushed Tim's bangs out of his eyes. “Timmy, are you with me?”

He nodded.

“Okay. Listen to me. You're safe here, okay? You're safe. From what it sounds like, your parents… they think you passed away.”

“They… think I'm dead? So… so they're not here to… take me away?”

“They're not going to take you away. No one is.”

Tim stayed silent, still tapping his fingers.

“Tim?”

“I'm just… thinking. W-what now?” He swallowed and looked up at Clark. “What do we do now?”

“Well, Tim, that's up to you.” Clark sat back a bit, just out of his personal space. “You're almost seventeen. If you feel that… meeting with them, letting them know you're alive, will give you some sort of closure, then… we can see about arranging that. Or if you're sure you don't want to see them, then you don't have to. No one will force you.”

Tim blinked and looked back down at his hands, still tapping his fingers. “It’s up to me?”

“It's up to you.”

He breathed out a soft, humorless laugh. “I don't suppose I can have someone else decide?”

“Timmy.” Clark shifted closer, taking Tims hands. “Look at me. You don't have to decide right now, but… we'll support you. Okay? No matter what you choose.”

“... Okay.” Tim whispered, leaning forwards to wrap his arms around Clark, burying his head in his shoulder.

Clark hugged him back tightly.

“Hey, um… no… no matter what I decide,” Tim whispered. “Jack isn't my dad's name. My dad's name is Clark.”

Chapter Text

Clark wasn't old.

He wasn't.

He had just spent all day kneeling on the hard wooden deck of his boat, only to hike up the hill to the house, and then back down, and then back up again to kneel on the concrete floor of the barn.

So, while he wasn't old, his knees were.

They needed a little break, and he wanted to make it up to Conner for having seen his outburst, so after convincing Tim to take a break in the pond, the two of them had decided to head into town to pick up some lunch for everyone.

“I know it's not my business, and you don't have to answer, but… I'll admit I'm curious. What happened between Tim and his parents?”

Clark frowned, steering his truck in the direction of town.

“Like I said, I fully understand that it's none of my business. It's just… kinda weird. They kept talking about Tim like he's dead, but… he's not.”

Conner’s voice grew somewhat softer as he talked, like he was just rambling to fill the silence.

They reached the first stop sign at the end of the road and, despite there clearly being no other vehicles, Clark stopped.

And… sat there.

“We don't know how old Tim is. All we've got is the hospitals best guess. His birthday is the day his adoption was finalized.”

“He doesn't know how old he is?”

“Not exactly. Our best estimate is that he was about seven when he was found.”

“How long ago was that?”

“Nine years.” Clark sighed. “Timmy came to live with us just over nine years ago.”

Conner turned to look out the windshield, slowly shaking his head. “Wow.”

“Yeah.”

Clark had wondered over the years if they'd ever encounter Tim's parents and what he'd do.

So many scenarios had crossed his mind, but somehow he'd never imagined… hating them so much more than he already had.

Tim had been alive, alone, scared, and in pain when he'd been found, and his parents were acting like he'd been taken from them in some sort of tragic accident.

Not to mention, with how quickly Jack had jumped to aggression, Clark could see pieces of the puzzle that was Timmy's youngest years begin to fall together.

Caring for and raising a small pup with so many health issues had been difficult and, at times, frustrating, but Clark had always made sure to be patient and take things slow.

He got the feeling that Jack had had a different parenting style.

“So… what happened? Was he just left there, and they swam off?”

“Kind of. He's severely allergic to shellfish, and when we found him his allergy had been triggered. Badly. He had been left tangled in the vines growing at the shoreline and… given how weak he was at the time, it's strongly suspected that…”

“They tried to-,”

“Yeah.”

“Wow. That… that explains quite a bit.”

Clark nodded.

He pressed the gas and they were on their way again. “Again, I'm sorry that happened in front of you.”

“Yeah, no worries.” Conner shrugged. “I mean, it was kinda surprising in the moment, but… I get it.”

They reached the only drive-in restaurant in town and Clark pulled into line. “Do you know what you'd like?”

“Me? Oh, I'll just have whatever everyone is getting.”

“Are you sure?”

Conner nodded. “I'm not picky.”

“What about Bernard?” Clark asked, trying to steer the conversation away from Tim and his parents.

It was a bad, stressful, messy situation all around and he didn't want to pile all of it on Conner.

“Could he have a chicken sandwich? He doesn't like beef, really.”

“He doesn't?” It seemed so mundane after everything that had happened in just the past few days, he wasn't sure why it struck him as odd. Maybe his mind just needed to latch onto something small for a moment, needing a break from processing major issues.

“No. He doesn't like the taste.”

Clark made a mental note so he could make sure to let Ma and Pa know.

They were next, so Clark rolled down the window and ordered, and then pulled forward.

“Hey. I think, speaking of Bernard, he and I are going to head back to our motel after we eat. If that's alright. Today's been a lot.”

Clark nodded. “No problem. I understand. How's your hand, by the way?”

Conner held it up and flexed his fingers. “A little sore, but that's it.”

“That's good. Make sure to keep the bandages clean. Have you two got enough supplies for that?”

Conner’s mouth twitched just subtly enough that Clark wasn't entirely sure, but he thought he saw a small smile.

“Yeah, we're… we keep our first aid kit fully stocked.”

“You're sure?”

“Yeah, I'm sure. Thanks, though.” Conner replied.

A minute later they had their burgers and were on their way back to the house.

Or, almost.

They had to pull over to let an ambulance running its lights and sirens pass.

“That's weird.” Clark muttered. “I wonder what's going on?”

“What do you mean? Aren't farms known for being dangerous places?”

“Somewhat, but this is a backroad that heads up into the woods. The only people who live on farms up this way are the Gordon's and…”

He trailed off, already seeing the ambulance turn right up ahead, nearly taking out the mailbox labeled ‘KENT’.

“Oh, no.” He barely heard Conner say as he stepped on the gas, whipping them back onto the road.

He pulled into the driveway and saw the ambulance had pulled up right beside Pa's old farm truck.

Which was, in turn, parked right outside the boathouse.

Clark parked his truck and hopped out, pausing just quick enough to address Conner, who was still holding what was going to be everyone's lunch.

“Head on into the house, okay? I'll see what's going on.”

“What? What if it's Bernard?” Conner got out as well, eyes wide as he turned, searching.

Clark stopped and grabbed his arm. “Over there. He's over there.” He pointed at the porch, where Bernard stood watching the ambulance. “Go.” He directed, and Conner didn't wait to be told again.

Clark then turned back to the ambulance and jogged over, heart sinking when he saw Pa seated on the back step, arm dripping blood.

Chapter Text

“Pa! What happened?” Clark stepped towards his father, but stopped, not wanting to get in the way of the paramedics pressing towels to his bloody arm.

“Is that- were you bitten?”

“Clark, look at me.” Pa's voice was both calm and stern, and Clark tore his eyes away from his father's arm. “I'm fine. I'm going to be fine. Your Ma's just grabbing our things from the house and then I'm going to go get some stitches. I'll be fine. You need to check on Tim.”

“Tim?”

“Yes, Tim.” Pa held up his uninjured arm and gestured to the boathouse.

Clark turned to look at the door, and then back at the blood-

“Tim didn't hurt me.” Pa said.

“Sir, can you tell us who did?” One of the paramedics asked, hopping back into the truck to grab a clipboard that he then began filling out. “These marks are deep, and a mer that's this human aggressive needs to be reported.”

Pa looked up at Clark and then sighed. “Jack.” And then he clarified further for the paramedic. “My grandson was adopted. His bio parents just showed back up. They're long-fins.”

“What was Tim doing down in the lagoon?”

“You might want to ask Dick that. I saw Tim leave the pond and head down the hill, so I followed him.” He pointed to his truck.

Both doors were open and there was a wet, red stain on the seat.

“I think he went to grab the maps he had been working on down there, because he was holding them when I caught up, but… everything happened so fast.” He shook his head. “I didn't see them until it was too late, but two mers just like you'd described were in the lagoon. Talking with Dick.”

“What? In? Why would he let them in?”

“I don't know. But Jack saw Tim and just… went for him. Yanked him right off the dock. I managed to grab him before anything happened which is how I got bit, and Dick chased them off, but Tim's still pretty shaken up.”

“Alright. Thank you, sir. Was your grandson injured?”

Pa shook his head. “Not physically, no.”

“Okay. Sir,” the paramedic turned to address Clark. “we’re going to take your father to the hospital for stitches. He should be fine, but given his age he'll most likely be staying the night for observation.”

“I’m going with.” Ma jogged up, holding both of their jackets, her purse, and her cellphone. “Clark, you call and let me know how Tim's doing, alright?”

“I will.” Clark agreed.

The doors slammed shut a second later and the ambulance pulled away.

Taking a deep breath, Clark turned and entered the boathouse.

Pa appeared to have been right about Tim heading down to the lagoon to retrieve the maps. They lay, scattered and crumpled, across the floorboards with a few even floating on the surface of the water.

As they were maps that had been borrowed from Jason and his team, they were all waterproofed and undamaged by their time spent soaking.

Clark fished them out and set them aside with the other maps, just able to see Tim's bright tail curled up in the deepest part of the boathouse.

The latch on the far wall, which allowed the doors to open out into the rest of the pond, had water dripping off of it, almost like Tim had tried unlocking it but had given up.

Slowly, Clark inhaled deeply.

And then, just as slowly, exhaled.

He had been gone less than half an hour. How had so much happened in such a short amount of time?

Tim didn't seem to be moving, so Clark sat down and leaned back against the wall to wait for him.

Damian was with his nephews and Wally, and he wasn't ready to confront Dick, so waiting was his best option.

Yyyyy

Clark hadn't meant to fall asleep.

He didn't even remember falling asleep.

But he woke up to the sound of something moving in the water.

He heard dripping, something sliding across the floor, and then cold, wet arms circled his chest.

“Hey, buddy.” Clark rubbed his eyes with one hand while his other arm wrapped around Tim's back. “I heard what happened. How are you holding up?”

Tim didn't respond.

He just stayed snuggled tightly against Clark's side.

“Did they hurt you?”

Tim shifted slightly, head pressed against Clark's chest, and unwrapped one of his arms from the hug.

His forearm had the beginnings of a large bruise right where he’d been grabbed, and it was dark enough to make out individual fingers.

Clark held his hand, rubbing the back of it with his thumb, as he gently examined the arm.

“I'm sorry that happened to you, buddy. Do you want to talk about it?”

Tim again, didn’t respond.

“Do you need to have a quiet day?” He asked.

Back when Timmy had been first working on speaking, there had been several times he'd gotten stressed or overwhelmed and, in an effort to keep him communicating in some form, they would encourage Timmy to sign.

It had worked, allowing him to still be able to express himself without needing to rely on verbal communication.

Tim pulled his arm away again and closed his hand into a fist, bringing it to his chest and rubbing it in a brief circle.

'Sorry'.

“What are you sorry for?”

Tim splayed his fingers out wide and tapped his thumb to his forehead, bouncing it twice as he pulled it away. He then curled his fingers into a circle, and then raised his pointer finger up, slightly higher than his middle finger, which he touched his thumb to.

'Grandpa o. k.?’

“Grandpa's going to be just fine, buddy. Don't worry. He's just going to spend the night at the hospital so they can keep an eye on him.”

‘Sorry.’

“Don't apologize. You're not the one who bit him.”

Tim unwrapped his other arm from around Clark and crossed them both over his chest, curling up against him.

“Grandpa said you went down there to get the maps?”

Tim raised his hand, pointer and middle finger pressed together and bent, and then tapped them against his forehead.

'Stupid.'

“Hey, no. Stop that.” Clark pushed Tim's hand down, away from his face, but Tim just yanked it back in frustration, repeating the gesture.

'Stupid. Knew they were here, but wanted the maps.’

Clark watched as Tim rubbed his arm, not touching the bruise.

‘Thought…’ he paused and looked back down at his arm. 'land was safe.’

“It should have been, Timmy.” Clark exhaled.

He was exhausted.

Physically.

Mentally.

Emotionally.

“How about you hang out up here for a while? The police are looking for them, so it won't be permanent, but now that they know you're alive, it might be the safer option.”

Tim nodded and looked over at the maps. 'I want to find Bruce.'

“I know you do. I want to find him, too.”

'I want to help.’ Tim signed slowly. ‘I’m sick of…’ he let out a breath, dropping his hands and closing his eyes for a moment. 'Sick of staying safe.’

“It's just for a little bit, buddy-,”

'I know. Just hate that my world keeps shrinking.’

Chapter Text

Clark had had to take photos of Tim’s arms to send to the cops, and it was growing dark when he made his way down to the lagoon.

Tim was still not speaking, but he was focused on his maps for the moment, determined to find any place Bruce could be.

Dick was sitting on the end of the dock waiting for him.

“Wally just put the pups to bed.”

Clark nodded quietly as he took a seat across the dock from him.

“How are Tim and Grandpa?”

“Your grandfather's going to be alright. He's staying overnight in the hospital to get stitches. Tim might need some space for a bit.”

“Clark, I… I'm so sorry.” Dick bowed his head. “I never meant… If I had known…”

“Dick, what were they doing in the lagoon?”

“... I invited them in.”

“Why?”

“Just to talk. I figured… you're busy with Conner, and the boat, and Tim, and the farm. I just wanted to… I thought I could help.”

Clark looked out across the lagoon, making sure they were really alone. “What did you think that would accomplish?”

“I don't-,”

“Son, Tim's not one of your pups, okay? A situation like his birth parents returning shouldn't be handled by you.”

“I'm sorry.”

“They thought he passed away years ago. Now that they know he's alive, we don't know if they're going to be a danger to him.”

Dick closed his eyes and exhaled. “I never meant to… I just wanted to help.”

“Usually I'd appreciate the help, but this time-,”

“I know.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I know. I'm sorry. I just… Conner told me they were here and… I thought I could at least let one family reconnect with their pup.” He whispered the last part.

“What do you mean?”

Dick let out a heavy sigh, arms crossed over his chest. “Raven. Wally and I took the boys to the clinic for a video call with her. She's… she's scared. Stressed. They're taking good care of her, but… I talked to her social worker afterwards. I brought up the fact that we wanted to adopt her permanently after Trigon is captured.”

“Was there a problem?”

“Yeah. She said that, since Trigon has been able to avoid the police for this long, they don't want to just keep her in a tank on the off chance he does manage to be apprehended. It's in her best interest to just… be relocated.”

“Relocated? Where?”

“The Pacific. There's a migratory pod there that can foster. They have experience with pups who need special attention, they're far enough away that he'll never find her again, and they have pups her age she can grow up with.”

“But, since she'll be in the Pacific…”

Dick just nodded, not needing to finish Clark's sentence.

They'd never be able to see her again.

The waves swishing against the dirt and rocks was all they heard as they both sat in silence, the night growing even darker around them as the sun set.

She'd be safe, but… she'd be nowhere familiar.

She'd have no one familiar.

Would this new pod remember to call her ‘Raven’?

“I'm so sorry about Tim. I didn't mean to put him in danger.”

“I know, Dick.”

“I just… I remembered you, me and Bruce talking about how he might have ended up alone. How they must have left him so they wouldn't have to see him die slowly. I thought they'd be thrilled to know he was alive.”

“That was one of the theories we came up with, but that was still not your call to make.”

“I know.” Dick closed his eyes. “Do you think he'll talk to me? Maybe in the morning?”

“He might. You can always try.”

Dick turned to look back up onto the boat, where they always kept the walkie talkie.

Dick had been a kid when they'd taken in Tim.

A kid who had already lost his parents, his pod, and, most recently, his brother.

There had been things Bruce and Clark opted to keep from him, such as just how extensively Tim had been affected by the mistreatment and neglect of his past life.

They hadn't been able to keep everything from him, of course, but Dick had been spared from seeing quite a bit of Tim's early days.

“Is he okay, though?” Dick asked softly.

“He's shaken up. Angry. He's using the search for Bruce to distract him.”

Dick shook his head slowly back and forth. “This whole thing is just a mess. I just wanted one thing to go right. Just one damn thing.”

“I know what you mean.” Clark muttered. “I'm sorry, by the way. About Raven.”

“Thanks. I'm… I'm sure she'll be alright. This new pod sounds like they'll be good for her. They'll love her in no time.”

“I know they will.”

“I just…” Dick turned and nodded his head over to the root system they were sleeping in. “Wally and I still don't know how we're going to tell the boys. They keep asking us about when she's coming back. We didn't want to make a whole family announcement about it until we'd talked with her social worker, but,” Dick rubbed his eye with the palm of his hand. “We asked them how they'd feel about having her as a sister. Victor's excited. He loves playing with her, and having someone around who isn't quite as energetic as Gar is good for him.”

“And Garfield? How does he feel about it?”

“He was two when he was adopted, so he's been having trouble understanding what we're asking him, but he knows he wants her to stick around. Apparently she's been teaching him how to catch frogs.”

“That's an easy way to that kids heart.” Clark commented softly, trying to smile.

He failed.

“I'm trying to stay optimistic for their sake, but… Clark, I just don't know what I'm doing anymore. I don't know what to do.”

Clark didn't either, so he did what felt right.

He stood, crossed to the other side of the dock, and sat beside his son, wrapping him in a tight hug.

Chapter Text

“Damian, here. Hold this.”

Damian yawned widely and sleepily took the socket wrench, curling up with it like it was a teddy bear.

Clark smiled and quickly snapped a picture, ruffling his pup's hair as he fell back to sleep.

Conner and Bernard were staying at their motel for the day, Tim was still in the pond, and Dick and Wally were busy with their boys in the heated section of the lagoon, so Clark had Damian helping with the boat.

As much as a four year old mer pup who still needed his naptime could, that was.

Which just meant that Clark had someone holding tools for him while he worked so he didn't lose them.

He was actually making quite a bit of progress, too.

With any luck, he'd be able to be out on the water by the next day-,

“Bleh.”

Clark, eyebrow raised, whipped his head around to look at Damian.

The pup, still half asleep, had his tongue sticking out and was staring with a mix of disdain and confusion at the wrench.

“Bud. Did you just lick that?”

Damian looked up at him with a crinkled nose. “This tastes bad.”

“Yup. I'm sure it does.”

They just looked at each other in silence, Damian still holding the wrench like a theme park lollipop, and Clark not having expected this turn of events.

“Here.” Damian held the tool out to his father, who took it back.

“Yeah, maybe you need a… new job.” Clark stood and picked up his now-awake pup, carrying him over to the other side of the hatch where he had the toolbox. “Okay. Here we go. This will take you some time to get the hang of it, but it's how I learned.”

“I get to help?”

“You get to help.” Clark confirmed, setting him down and kneeling beside him. “Now this is a very important job, alright?”

Damian nodded. “Right!”

“Do you think you can handle it?”

Damian nodded again, looking so determined that Clark couldn't help but smile.

“Okay.” Clark reached into the toolbox and pulled out a screwdriver. “What is this?”

Damian frowned and stared at it. “Hoof pick?”

“No. This is a screwdriver.” Clark corrected, making sure to say the word slowly.

Damian nodded. “Screw-wire.”

“That's right. Now, when I ask you to hand me the screwdriver, what are you going to do?”

Damian took the screwdriver, examined it closely, and looked back into the toolbox.

“Damian. When I ask for the screwdriver, what are you going to do?” Clark repeated.

Damian excitedly handed the screwdriver back.

“Very good.” Clark praised. “Now do you know what this is?” He picked up the socket wrench again.

Damian's face scrunched up again. “Yucky.”

“Yes. It is yucky. Now, do you know what we call it?”

Damian glared at the tool, like that might clear things up. “Screw-wire?” He guessed.

“Not quite. Can you say ‘wrench’?”

“No.”

Clark had to stifle a laugh. “Can you try?”

“Yucky.”

“Yes, it is yucky. But it's called a wrench. Can you say ‘wrench’?”

Damian frowned, and then shook his head. “No. It's yucky.”

“I know it's yucky. But it's called a ‘wrench’. Can you say ‘wrench’?”

“Yucky.”

At this point, Clark realized that he had a decision to make.

He could give in and allow his toddler to rename his tools, which would keep Damian entertained and engaged in helping, or he could fight a losing battle against a four year old.

“... Can you please say ‘wrench’?”

“... No. Yucky.”

“Okay.” Clark sighed, dropping his head. “So… when I ask you for the… yucky… what will you do?”

Damian proudly handed the wrench over.

“Good job, buddy. Thank you.”

Damian smiled widely, his smaller fins flapping happily under the praise.

“Okay.” He sighed. “Are you ready to help?”

Damian nodded. “I can help!”

“Are you sure?”

Damian nodded again.

“Okay. Can you hand me the screwdriver?”

Damian looked down at the two tools laying on the deck in front of him and, after a prolonged moment to think, snatched the screwdriver and handed it over.

“Good job! Thank you.” Clark praised and Damian giggled, pulling himself closer to the hatch to watch what Clark was doing.

“You're fixing it?” He asked.

Clark nodded. “I'm fixing it.”

“And then it will go vrrrrroom! Like the truck?”

“That's the idea.”

Damian nodded seriously, like he understood perfectly. “That's an idea.”

Clark, going slowly so Damian could watch what he was doing, tightened down the screw he needed to and handed the screwdriver back.

“Here you go.”

Damian excitedly snatched it back and, using his arms and tail, scooted back to the toolbox.

“Now what?”

“Now can you hand me the yucky?”

Damian, grinning even wider, happily carried the wrench over to his father and presented it to him.

“Thank you-,”

Clark frowned and looked around, hearing a motor.

The inlet was dry, and he couldn't see any boats approaching.

There were no signs of movement that he could see along the trail.

So he turned to look up the hill towards the pond.

Tim, driving his ATV, was on his way towards the lagoon.

He ignored Damian's cheerful greeting and pointedly avoided making eye contact with either of them as he drove to a more overgrown corner of the lagoon. It was directly across from the inlet, and as far from the heated section as possible.

“Hey, sit here for a second, okay buddy?” Clark closed the hatch and stood, taking a quick look around to make sure there was nothing laying out that he could choke on.

“Okay, Papa.” Damian nodded, head tilted in confusion at his big brother.

Clark hopped off the boat and walked over to where Tim was digging around in the storage compartment and pulling out the maps he'd been pouring over, a notebook and pen, a compass, and, surprisingly, a pocket knife.

“Tim-,”

“I'm not staying in the pond.”

“Tim, your parents might still be in the area.” Clark tried.

Tim simply whistled, calling Titus and Haly over. “If I see anything orange in the water, I'm siccing them on it.”

Clark got down on one knee beside him. “Buddy, I know staying up at the pond isn't the most ideal situation, but it won't be forever.”

Tim sighed heavily, eyes closed.

Titus reached him and flopped over thinking he was about to be loved on.

Tim petted him, rubbing his ears.

“Dad, I'm not staying up there any longer.”

“They might come back. We don't know.”

“Let them come.”

“Tim, please.”

“No.” Tim finally looked up at him. “I lost out on too much of my life already because of them. They don't get to show up out of nowhere and have this kind of impact on me again. They don't get to be that important.”

Clark didn't like his decision.

He wanted to pick Tim up and carry him back to the pond where he could know that he was safe.

But he knew that it was Tim's decision to make.

“Okay.” He relented, patting him on the shoulder. “Okay, buddy.”

Tim reached up and held the hand on his shoulder. “Thanks, Dad.”

Chapter Text

“Go away. I don't want to talk to you.”

Clark looked up and saw Tim, still curled up on shore, glaring viciously at Dick.

“I'm sorry, Tim. Please, I just want to apologize.”

Dick swam closer and Tim growled, slapping the water with his tailfin.

“Tim!” Clark scolded. “Dick, let him have his space.”

Dick looked torn, and Tim growled again, lowly.

“Okay. I'll… I'll stay back here.” Dick, out of Tim's reach, raised his hands to show that he wasn't coming any closer.

Tim didn't say anything.

“I'm sorry I talked to your parents. That was wrong of me. I just… I thought they'd be happy to know that their pup was still alive.”

“I'm not theirs.”

“I just meant-,”

“I'm not theirs. And that decision wasn't yours to make.”

“I know. I was just trying to help.”

“You want to help, Dick? Leave me alone.” Tim snapped.

“Hey. I'm trying to apologize-,”

“And I'm trying to find our father. The least you could do is not invite strangers into our home.”

“I had no idea they'd attack you. I never would have let them in if I'd known.”

Tim narrowed his eyes, and Clark stood up, ready to intervene if they needed it.

“Papa? What's going-,”

“Victor, come back here. That's a grown up conversation.”

Wally shushing and pulling Victor back to the far end of the lagoon was the only thing audible as Tim and Dick stared at each other.

“Fuck you.”

“Hey! Watch your language.”

“No. Go away.”

“Tim-,”

“Leave me alone!” Tim snapped. “You said you just wanted to apologize, and you did. Now leave.”

“What's with you? I'm trying to make things right, and you're biting my head off.” Dick flicked his tail getting closer to the shore.

“You want to make things right? Leave me alone! I'm not down here to forgive you. I'm not down here to clear your damn conscious. I just want to find Bruce.”

“Tim, I made a mistake. I wish I could take it back, but I can't. What more do you want from me?”

“Privacy? Basic respect? Is the ability to make my own choices too much to ask for?”

They were both shouting at this point and Clark hopped off the boat.

“Boys.”

“Dick, why the hell would you even think I wanted to see them?”

“I know they weren't the best, but they're your parents, Tim! They were paying their respects at what they thought was your grave.”

“You mean the place they left me to die?” Tim snapped back.

“You were dying! Do you have any idea how rare a shellfish allergy is? They might not have had any idea what was wrong with you.”

“And that excuses what they did to me?”

“Of course not! But you were a pup when it happened. What the hell do you even remember about them?”

“I remember everything!” Tim shouted, slamming his fist into the dirt. “Isn't that enough? I remember everything they did to me! I remember everything they put me through. Why can't you get it through your thick fucking skull that my parents weren't yours? They didn’t love me! They didn't die trying to save me! They threw me away because I was useless! I never wanted to see them again, and that should have been my choice to make!”

“I'm sor-,”

“I get it, okay? You're sorry! You didn't mean to get me attacked, or to be the reason grandpa had to go to the hospital. I heard you! Now can I get back to looking for Bruce?”

“Boys, that's enough.” Clark tried to step in, but Dick was already gesturing emphatically.

“You’re drawing on Jason's maps, Tim! What do you think that's doing to help? You don't even know how to read them!”

“I'm doing the best I can! That's more than I can say for you!”

“You think I'm not just as worried about Bruce?”

“Are you? Because you haven't been much help these past few days.”

“I have pups to raise! Wally and I lost our chance to adopt Raven because of this! I wish I could spend all day drawing and pretending I'm actually helping, but guess what? I can't.”

With a snarl, Tim grabbed and threw his pen at Dick, hitting his square in the forehead.

“Agh!”

“Alright, that's enough!” Clark planted himself between the two of them. “Both of you, separate. Now!”

Dick, wincing and rubbing the red mark on his head, made a move like he was going to say something, but Clark cut him off before he had the chance to try.

“Dick, go for a swim.”

“He-,”

“Dick.” Wally came over, having left both boys by the heaters. “Listen to your father. Go cool your head.”

Dick looked back and forth between the two, and then back at Tim.

Now that he was no longer in the heat of the moment, Clark was able to see the guilt in his eyes as he realized what all he'd said.

Without another word, Dick nodded and flicked his tail, sinking below the water.

Clark turned and knelt beside Tim, who was already turned away from him. “Tim?”

“Sorry for cussing.” He muttered, gathering up his maps.

“Are you alright?”

Tim paused, hands freezing on a sonar image of the ocean floor.

“Buddy?”

“I can lie to you, or you can accept that you already know the answer to that.”

Clark sighed. “Dick didn't mean what he said-,”

“He still said it.”

“... I know.”

“I'm… I'm trying my best to help.”

“I know you are.”

Tim was silent, staring down at the maps, and then made his way back to his ATV and began digging around in the storage compartment.

“Tim-,”

“Daddy! Gramma's calling!” Damian yelled from the boat.

Clark hesitated, but Tim, holding a new pen, just nodded his head in the direction of the dock.

“You'd better go see what's up.”

“Are you sure?”

Tim looked out at the inlet, where Dick had vanished, and nodded. “Yeah. I'm sure.”

“Okay.” Clark relented and headed back to the boat.

“Gramma called.” Damian held up the walkie talkie for him.

“Thanks, Dami.” Clark took the device, ruffled his pup's hair, and hit the button. “Ma? Is everything alright?”

*Clark, could you come up to the house? Sheriff Gordon's here to see you.*

Chapter Text

Sheriff Jim Gordon had been the Kent's next door neighbor ever since Clark had been in middle school.

Well, closest neighbor, that was, as the Gordon property was still about a mile up the road.

Clark had known the man long enough by this point to be able to recognize from his stance alone that he was there as the sheriff rather than a family friend.

“Good afternoon.” Clark greeted, walking up to the front porch. “Is there any word about Bruce?”

Sheriff Gordon shook his head. “Not yet, I'm afraid. We're still looking for him. I'm here about the mer who assaulted Jonathan, here. We've got him in lockup at the moment, just waiting on transport to Metropolis, and he's not going to be allowed back to Smallville once his time has been served.”

Tim was safe.

Clark let out a breath, feeling such a wave of relief after so long with nothing but stress and emergencies.

“Thank you, sir.”

“He shouldn't be bothering your family anymore.” Sheriff Gordon turned to Pa and gestured to his car. “I'm just going to need you to come down and confirm that this is the mer who hurt you.”

Pa nodded. “Of course. Just give me a second to get ready.”

“Alright.” He then turned to Clark. “You might want to tag along as well.”

“Me? Why?”

“His wife wants to talk with you. She says she’ll understand if you don't want to see her, but she wants to discuss your boy.”

Just like that, the relief Clark had felt was gone. “Tim?”

“That's right.”

“She's not taking him back.” Ma stated firmly, arms resting on the porch railing.

“No.” Sheriff Gordon confirmed, shaking his head. “She's not. And I made sure she knows that custody isn't even an option. But she says she still wants to talk to you.”

Clark clenched his jaw, thinking.

He needed to get his boat working.

Search for Bruce.

Keep an eye on Dick and Tim.

But…

He was curious about what she wanted.

And why she did what she did, leaving Tim.

“Okay.”

Besides, just because her husband was under arrest, didn't mean that she was also going to be banned from returning. Maybe if he heard her out, she would stay away as well.

Yyyyy

At the police station, Pa was led into the building while Sheriff Gordon directed Clark to walk around back, where the police boats were docked. Most of them were currently out being driven, so there were a lot of empty spaces.

Clark walked up the large, main dock, footsteps alerting the mer seated at the end of it to his arrival.

She turned around to face him, and he stopped a short distance away. They were close enough to talk, but he was still far enough away that she wouldn't be able to attack him.

“You wanted to talk to me?”

She was just slightly bigger than Tim was, though her tail was darker, with shades of purple mixed with the red and orange scales.

“Yes. You've been raising Alvin?”

“What about him?”

She frowned, but didn't appear to be otherwise surprised about his attitude towards her.

“My husband was in the wrong for what he did. I'm not about to defend him.”

“How noble.” He replied.

She sighed and adjusted herself so that she was facing him fully.

“You've taken good care of him. I never thought I'd see him again. Especially not… looking like that. He looks perfectly healthy.”

“What do you want? Why did I come all the way down here?” Clark asked, about to just turn and leave.

“Honestly? I'm not sure. I think I just… wanted to confirm that that really was him.”

“... He was found in the bushes where you and your husband left your pup and was so far gone he almost didn't make it.”

She pursed her lips and bowed her head. “Yeah. That's him. You probably think I'm a monster.”

“You don't want to know what I think.”

“That's fair.”

“I hope you're not expecting to be able to see him.”

“... No. I said my goodbyes years ago. I know that wouldn't be fair to him.”

Turning back to the police station, Clark could see Pa and Sheriff Gordon talking near one of the windows.

“It wasn't an easy decision to make, leaving him there.” She spoke again. “But Jack and I couldn't keep him. I know it sounds horrible, but… we never wanted to be parents. I got pregnant by accident, though, so we decided to make the most of it. We give guided tours to visitors of the floating market and, well, a cute family-to-be showing around tourists means more money. For a while, we thought we could make it work.”

She turned and lifted her arm, letting Clark see a large, jagged scar that started just below her ribcage and ended near her dorsal fin.

“I was hit by a boat. Alvin was born early enough that we were told from the start he wouldn't make it. I was still recovering so a lot of his early care was handled by Jack.”

“I have a feeling that explains a lot.”

“He didn't know what he was doing. He was worried about me the whole time and… I was the one who was more excited about being a parent. At first, that was. He was sick all the time. He never slept. He needed constant attention. When I recovered enough to go back to giving tours, we didn't have much choice but to bring him with us. When he was tiny, it wasn't much of a problem. We even started getting more money, since tourists wanted to help out with the baby. But… then he started getting older. Harder to care for. Do you have any idea what it's like having to come to terms with the fact that you'll never hear your pup speak? Eventually-,”

“Wait. Stop. What do you mean he never spoke?” Clark held up his hand, cutting her off.

“Just… what I said. He never spoke. Never even tried. I saw other pups and even human kids do the whole, ‘ma-ma’ thing, where they start trying to make words, but he never did. I just had to accept that he was mute.”

Suddenly Clark was back in the boathouse, getting ready for his day and hearing a tiny, ‘Sheep?’ behind him.

That hadn't been the first word Timmy had spoken around him.

That had been the first word he'd ever said.

“I take it you've figured out how to communicate with him?”

“Yeah.” Clark found himself replying. “Vocally.”

“What?” She blinked at him, not understanding.

Not sure if he was making the right decision, Clark took a step closer to her and pulled out his phone. He thumbed open his camera roll and pulled up a video that had been taken by Tim a few months ago.

The footage was shaky, as Tim could be heard laughing, but it showed Damian biting a lemon and then making a shocked and disgusted face, crinkling his nose and sticking out his tongue while waving his hands.

*I told you you wouldn't like it.* Tim laughed, turning the camera towards himself. *I can't wait to show this to Steph.*

The video ended and Clark returned his phone to his pocket.

She had her hands over her mouth and tears in her eyes. “He…”

“He grew up. He's healthy. Smart. Inventive. Stubborn. And incredibly determined when he sets his mind on something. He's also severely allergic to shellfish, which most of his medical problems stemmed from.”

“We… we used to leave him at home while we worked. We'd leave him crabs or other things like that to eat while we were away. I just… I always thought he'd been… we were poisoning him.”

Clark didn't say anything.

“He got really sick once. I couldn't keep him awake for more than an hour at a time. He couldn't keep anything down. It went on for days. I wanted to take him to a clinic, but… Jack convinced me it was time to let him go. The older he got, the worse he'd gotten, and… we knew it was only a matter of time. So… we took him away. We… we didn’t want to have to see where he'd died during our tours, so we took him and swam as far as we could. And then we just… we said goodbye.”

“My family must have found him right after.”

“Is… I know you said I can't see him, and I… I understand that. But is there any way you can let Alvin know that I'm sorry?”

Clark suddenly just wanted to go home.

To pick Tim up and hug him and make sure he knew just how much he was loved and cherished by everyone in the family.

“I'll let him know we spoke. But I don't know if he'll want to hear from you.” He said as he turned to walk away.

And then he paused and looked back. “His name's not Alvin, by the way. He goes by a new name now.”

She closed her eyes and nodded. “If… if he ever wants to… I don't know, see us- me.” She cleared her throat. “If he ever wants to see me, well, you know where we are.”

Clark just nodded and walked away.

Chapter Text

Luckily Pa wasn't needed for very long and he and Clark were given a ride back to the farm soon after the conversation with Tim's mother.

The ride back was spent mostly in silence.

Pa had confirmed that, yes, Jack had indeed been the mer who bit him, and he was now waiting for transportation back to Metropolis to serve his time.

Clark couldn't stop thinking about Tim.

How silent and scared he'd been when they had first met him.

The way he'd only be able to calm down if Clark let him cling to his hand.

How hard it had been to convince him to eat.

So much of his odd behavior was suddenly making sense.

“So what did she want? To see Tim?” Pa asked.

Clark shook his head. “To explain why they left him.”

Pa, being in the front passenger seat, looked into the rearview mirror at him. “Are you ok?”

Tim's tail had been so faded when he'd been found.

He'd been so scared that Clark was usually the only one able to take care of him.

He couldn't stop thinking of him being left alone, in a cave, for hours on end.

“I… I'm not sure. I just want to give Tim a hug. Let him know his bio parents shouldn't be bothering him again.”

“Can I offer you some advice?”

“Please.” Clark replied, absently scrolling through his camera roll.

“Take a minute before you go see him. Just because you found out what he went through before you knew him, doesn't mean he's any different now. He doesn't need you acting like anything's changed, especially since he's not the one who told you what happened. I'm not saying to hide the fact that you talked with his mother, just keep in mind that you’re the one who gained information. Nothing about him has changed. He's still the same pup he was before you had that talk.”

Clark inhaled and held his breath.

And then exhaled slowly.

“Yeah. You're right.” He said, looking down at a photo of Tim holding Garfield, carefully showing him how to pet Ace. “Thank you.”

“I gotta tell you, Jon.” Sheriff Gordon commented, turning back into the Kent driveway. “That's advice I wish you'd given me a few years back.”

“Hm? Oh, Stephanie?” Pa guessed.

Sheriff Gordon nodded. “Barbara was so easy to raise for most of her childhood. But it's always been just her and I. Steph came along and, well, I’ve done my best, but I never really learned how to approach sensitive situations with her. Now that she's moving out, I'm just hopeful that… she knows I tried my best.”

Clark paused, hand still on the seat belt release. “Steph’s moving out?”

“Yeah.” Sheriff Gordon turned to look at him. “Tim didn't tell you? She just got accepted to Gotham University.”

“No, he didn't.” Clark shook his head. “Um, tell her we said congratulations. And thanks for the ride.” He got out and walked down to the boathouse, needing just a minute of silence.

And Bruce.

He needed Bruce.

His other half.

His partner.

So much was happening and he kept feeling that, no matter how much he tried, no matter what he did, nothing was going right.

Everything just kept getting worse.

Bruce was gone-,

No!

Bruce was missing.

For now.

He was missing for now.

He'd be back in no time.

And Raven…

He sighed.

She might not be able to be with them, but at least she'd be safe.

Dick and Tim were both very understandably upset and stressed, but were currently taking it out on each other.

The interior of the boathouse was dark, until Clark pulled the chain that turned on the light.

The space had been kept as Tim's personal bedroom, even after he'd moved down to the lagoon. Now, though, he mainly only used it when he needed some space from his family or a soak after spending the day with the animals.

The hammock was gone, and he and Clark had hung posters of movies Tim loved around on the walls.

It was currently empty, though, which was what Clark had been hoping for.

He leaned back against an empty part of the wall and closed his eyes, just focusing on breathing.

In.

And out.

Bruce would be okay.

Tim's parents were gone.

Dick and Tim… they'd fought before.

They'd worked through issues before.

But, they'd both said things-,

No.

Breathe.

In.

Out.

They'd be okay.

They were brothers.

Bruce would come back.

Everything would be okay.

They would be okay.

Taking one last deep breath, Clark shook his head and left the boathouse, walking down the hill to the lagoon.

The dock was occupied by Jason, who was sprawled on his back across most of it.

“Everything alright?” Clark asked, stepping around his tailfin.

“I am fucking exhausted.” Jason grumbled, rolling over and pushing himself up into a sitting position. “What about you? Where have you been?”

“At the police station with Pa. Tim's parents are being sent back to Metropolis tonight.”

Jason heaved a sigh of relief, shoulders going slack.

“That's good. That also means he'll be able to hang down here again. It's a pain in the ass working with him when he's in the pond.”

“He went back up?” Clark turned to look.

He really didn't want to have to walk all the way back up the hill, but it appeared that Jason was right. The shore just past the ATV was bare of any maps, navigation equipment, or mers.

Jason tilted his head. “He was down here?”

“Yeah. He was down here when I left. I was just at the pond and didn't see him, though.”

“Probably with his cow.” Jason snorted.

Clark chuckled and shook his head. “Alright. I'll go get him.”

Tim must have not wanted to stay in the lagoon without Clark there, but Clark actually felt a bit relieved about that.

He wanted to at least be on hand the next time the boys spoke.

Knees aching, Clark had to pause at the barn door for a moment before going in.

“Tim, Jason's back.” He called, walking down to where Batcow was staying.

There was no reply, and when Clark got to the stall, he saw that Tim wasn't there.

Great.

He must have gone back to the pond.

Sighing and ignoring the voice in his head calling him old, he turned and headed for the pond.

Again.

A few minutes later, he opened the door to the boathouse and stepped inside to see…

Nothing?

“Tim?”

The double doors on the far side were both closed and latched, which meant he might have been out in the pond.

But in order to get to the pond, he would have had to park his ATV right at the edge of the water.

And he hadn't seen the ATV at the edge of the water.

But…

He had seen it.

Where had he seen it?

He'd seen it…

Clark felt his blood run cold.

The ATV had been right where it had been before he left.

Parked beside the lagoon.

And Tim didn't have a way other than the ATV to get back up to the pond.

Clark swallowed and, trying to convince himself that he was just worried about nothing, picked up the walkie talkie that was kept in the boathouse.

“Jason.”

*What up?*

“Are you sure Tim's not down there?”

There was a pause, and then, *Uh, yeah? Why? What's wrong?*

“Just… check. Check the lagoon. Make sure he didn't fall asleep somewhere.”

*Clark, what's going on?*

“Jason, please. Just check.”

*Yes, sir.*

Clark left the boathouse and jogged down the hill, still clutching the walkie talkie.

This couldn't be happening.

No.

Not now.

Not Tim.

But he reached the dock and found Jason, along with Dick, Wally, Victor, and Gar, all looking worried and confused.

“Clark, what's going on?” Dick asked.

“We looked all over. He's not here. What's going on?” Jason took over, face deadly serious.

“Tim has three ways out of this lagoon. Robin's still in his paddock, my truck hasn't moved, and his ATV is right there. Where is your brother?”

“He…” Wally looked towards the inlet. “He must be here somewhere.”

“Maybe not.” Victor pointed at something sitting on the seat of the ATV.

It was his notebook.

Clark hopped off the dock and ran over to it.

And had to read the note scrawled on it several times before he managed to grasp it.

‘I’ll be back. With Dad. Pinky promise.’

Chapter Text

“Tim!” Clark yelled, sprinting back to the boat.

“What's going on? Where is he?” Jason asked, moving aside so Clark could jump back on the boat.

“He's going after Bruce.”

“What? What do you mean?” Dick handed Gar to Wally. “He can't leave the lagoon!”

“He just did.” Clark responded, running to the steering wheel and…

The engine.

“Daddy?” Damian rubbed his eye with a fist, sleepily blinking up at him from the seat.

His boat couldn't move.

He couldn't go after Tim.

“Daddy, are you okay?”

“Clark.” Jason grabbed the railing. “Call the police. I'll go find him. He might still be in the area.”

Bruce.

Raven.

Pa had been attacked.

“Clark.”

And now Tim.

“Daddy?”

“Clark. Listen to me.”

Clark's body was frozen in place.

His hands were on the steering wheel, feet rooted in place.

“Clark!”

“Yeah.” He muttered, shaking his head. “Police. Got it.”

“Daddy!”

Damian, not liking being ignored, shouted, hands raised in the air to be picked up.

Clark, head going a million different directions, did so.

And then handed him immediately over to Dick.

“Watch him.”

Dick accepted Damian, who both looked not too pleased with this turn of events, as Jason and Wally dropped back down into the water and darted out to the ocean.

Dick and the three pups stayed on the dock in silence while Clark headed partway back up the trail, needing both silence and space to make his call.

As he was typing out the number in his phone, though, he caught sight of his engagement ring.

The ring Bruce had never gotten to give him.

The ring…

The ring he'd been attacked while finding.

Suddenly his phone screen was far too blurry for him to read, and he had to sit down, head between his knees.

The call was made ten minutes later.

Yyyyy

Wally and Jason returned well after dark, having never found Tim.

The police came and went, taking their statement and promising to do their best to find him.

The same promise they'd given about Bruce…

Clark knew it wasn't their fault that they hadn't found anything yet, but still. Hearing the same promise as last time…

He couldn't lose both of them.

He was barely holding his family together as it was.

Damian was already spending more time with his nephews and brother than he should have been.

Jason was running himself ragged with his team pretty much any time he wasn't sleeping.

And Ma and Pa had had to call Steve and Diana to come down and lend a hand with the animals a few times.

Clark fell asleep that night listening to the deafening silence and wondering… hoping, praying, not for the first time, that he'd wake up and find out that this had all just been a nightmare.

Something he could tell Bruce about over breakfast.

And Bruce would comfort him.

And Tim would tease him.

Because they'd both…

No.

He couldn't do this again.

Not another night in a row.

He'd woken up too many times already and had to face reality crashing back down on him.

He knew they were gone.

And, while he was far from giving up on finding them, he knew he couldn't delude himself again into having false hope.

Not if he wanted to be able to keep going.

Yyyyy

Clark was snapped out of staring blankly out the kitchen window the next morning, absently drinking his coffee, by a heavy knock at the door.

“Hello?” He opened the door to a large, frustrated looking black man wearing a business suit.

He didn't look like a cop.

Or even a fisherman.

Or… even a local.

“Can I help you?”

“Clark Kent?” The man asked.

“That's right.”

“Where's Conner?” From his tone, this was less a question and more of a demand.

“What?” Clark just blinked.

Conner?

“Yes. Conner. Where is he?”

Clark was immediately on guard.

“Why? Who are you?”

“John Jones. I'm Conner's foster father.”

Chapter Text

Conner opened the motel room door, eyes growing wide when he saw John standing beside Clark.

“Shit.” He muttered.

“Conner,” John sighed, sounding relieved to see him.

“Who is it- oh.” Bernard called from inside the room.

Clark couldn't see him from his angle beside the door, but he saw the way Conner slowly reached over to grab the doorframe, blocking them from entering, and the way John's eyes widened slightly.

“Leave him alone.” Bernard, still wearing pajamas, demanded, pushing between Conner and the doorframe, spreading his arms wide as if to block the much larger teen from the two men outside. “He didn't do anything wrong.”

John looked calmly at them both and just let out a tired sigh. “Boys, we can talk out here, and risk being overheard, or you can invite us in and we can have a private conversation.”

It was Conner who moved first.

He deflated and closed his eyes, hands releasing the doorframe.

“Bear, come on.” He turned and let them into the small room, Bernard reluctantly following him.

“Thank you.” John stepped in, Clark coming in last and closing the door.

“How did you find us?”

“Dinah.” John crossed his arms.

Conner looked surprised. “I never told her-,”

“No. But your sessions with her are over video. And that tipped her off.” He pointed to a large, black and white, framed photo of what the town looked like a century ago. Engraved in bold letters was the title, ‘Smallville’. “And there is only one reason you'd come to Smallville.”

“... Oh.”

“Conner, you know me. You know I just want what's best for you. What happened that you couldn't come to me for help?”

Conner didn't respond. He just stared at his socked feet.

“Conner, please.”

Still no reply.

“Conner, do you know why *I* am here and not the police? It's because I knew that if they were the ones to find you, you'd end up in handcuffs. This, on top of your assault-,”

Conner's eyes flew open wide and he looked right at Clark, panicked.

John grimaced and then let out a breath. “I’m sorry. But, what possessed you to run away? Was there something going on you couldn't tell me?”

Clark watched Conner's face closely, not having expected John's slip up.

Assault?

Conner thought for a moment, and then turned. “Bear-,”

“No.” Bernard, seated on the edge of one of the beds, crossed his arms across his chest.

Except…

His voice was scared.

Almost pleading.

“Bear, show him what they did to you.”

Bernard looked at John, and then at Clark.

They stood in silence, no one speaking, until finally he stood and walked over to Conner.

It wasn't until he was standing well inside Conner's personal bubble that he faced them and shakily began unbuttoning his pajama shirt.

Closing his eyes tightly, he pulled the material off and spun in a slow circle, letting the adults see everything.

His torso and arms were riddled with welts.

Bruises.

Lashes.

Clark gasped and he saw John take a step forwards, but Bernard had already covered himself back up, head bowed like he was ashamed.

“Who.” Was all John demanded.

“It doesn't matter.” Bernard muttered.

Conner rubbed his back, trying to comfort him.

“Conner, if someone did this to Bernard, they need to be held accountable.” Clark pointed out.

“You're assuming the laws actually give a damn about right and wrong.”

“I am a lawyer.” John stated.

“Yeah, and I've never been fucked over before just because I'm the convenient scapegoat.” Conner snapped back.

John didn't reply.

“Boys, just tell us what happened.” Clark took over. “We're here to help.”

The two of them shared a look, and then Bernard stepped back over to the bed and sank down, Conner right beside him.

“Hindsight being what it is, I know now that it was a stupid decision. But… I just wanted to have some fun.”

Clark and John grabbed a couple of chairs from the nearby table and sat down.

“My family's always been hard on me to get good grades. And… I used to be able to. But then I got to high school and… I think I just got burned out. Don't get me wrong, I didn't just give up. I… I tried. I tried to focus. Tried to study. But it was like I was walking up a hill, and with each step it would get steeper and steeper, and I'd be carrying more and more. Nothing I tried worked. I talked to my counselor, who just told me that no one wanted to do schoolwork, but that was no excuse. My parents started punishing me for being lazy.”

Bernard reached over and grabbed Conner's hand, lacing their fingers together.

“I spent my whole school career up to then as the kid in class with the highest marks. Anything less was a failure. Every resource I tried just kept telling me that, if I was failing, it was my fault. ‘Work harder’. ‘Apply yourself’. ‘Stop being lazy’. ‘Stop pretending to be stupid, we've got your old test results. We know what you're really capable of’. And the whole time I just kept getting more stressed, which made my grades keep going down, which just made everyone more convinced I was doing it all to spite them.

“One day, I came across this online game. It was in a group chat for kids in my school, so we could help each other with homework, but these kids… they started doing this Truth or Dare thing. Rule number one was that the teachers were to never find out, which honestly should have been my first red flag, but… I'd been going to faculty members for help for months and they all just brushed me off. I was at a point where… I saw that rule and figured that these were just other kids like me. Sick of… everything. The whole deal. Of doing everything we were told, working our asses off, stressing about every little detail, only to end up barely able to drag ourselves out of bed in the morning just to do it all over again while the people we're doing it for waste no opportunity to remind us that we're stupid, lazy and worthless.”

Bernard seemed to realize he'd gotten off track and awkwardly cleared his throat. “Um. I… I decided to join the game. It was just little things. No one was being disruptive. No one was vandalizing or anything. It was just… a group of us playing our own little game. That was all. At first.”

Chapter Text

Clark leaned against the bed of his truck.

John was inside documenting and photographing all of Bernard's injuries while Conner had walked down to the nearby gas station to buy a soda, needing to clear his head.

The whole situation made Clark both sick and relieved that his kids had never had to deal with public school.

They had all been homeschooled on some level by Clark and Bruce, but Clark still vividly remembered how bullying had worked back when he had been a student.

What Bernard had gone through…

If he hadn't seen the proof, he might not have believed him.

The Truth or Dare game had started out small, and somewhat juvenile. If it wasn't filmed and posted to the group chat, it didn't count.

Bernard had been talked into doing just one, subtly flipping people off during passing period without being caught, and posted it.

He hadn't planned on doing more than one, but the response to his one post had been so positive he had done another with hardly a second thought.

And then another.

Conner had started growing concerned, but Bernard hadn't seen an issue.

He'd just known that he had an escape from the stresses of his daily life.

He didn't start to notice that things seemed wrong until they'd already spiraled out of control.

The Dares had started growing more risky.

The Truths more personal.

But Bernard had just kept telling himself that it was all in good fun.

That they were friends, and it was all just in the spirit of playing around with friends.

Until he'd been dared to change someone's grade.

Bernard had refused, since this was blatantly not just for harmless fun.

The problem was that, if someone decided they didn't want to follow through in their Truth or Dare, they had to take a Punishment.

And Bernard's Punishment had been that his parents would be told about his and Conner's relationship.

Bernard had begged them not to.

He had asked for another Dare, tried to tell them that there were reasons his parents didn't even know he was gay, but they hadn't listened.

In desperation, Bernard had come clean about the entire group chat to his principal.

There were tons of videos of everyone involved, so proving what had been going on had been easy.

The hard part had come after school, while Bernard was walking home.

He lived on a relatively secluded street, which meant no one was around to witness when he was jumped by several of the boys who had started the Truth or Dare game.

He hadn't stood a chance.

After they had all left, Bernard had managed to call Conner, who took him immediately to the emergency room.

Where his parents had then been called.

They showed up and had Conner barred from the room, demanding that their son be released to them despite his injuries.

The nurses had tried to talk them out of it, insisting that Bernard needed medical attention and they'd only been able to check out his head, confirming a concussion, but his parents signed him out against medical advice anyway.

His recent string of failing grades, along with the calls they'd gotten from his classmates and principal, the Truth or Dare videos they'd found on his computer, the fight, and the fact that Conner had been the one to take him to the hospital had all led them to conclude that the only thing left for them to try was sending him to a camp.

Bernard, trying to rest in his room, had overheard them talking on the phone.

Signing him up for one that specifically had a conversion program.

He had packed a bag and called Conner immediately, and the boys left that same night.

“Here.”

Clark blinked in surprise when the bottle of soda was handed to him.

Conner leaned back against the truck beside him, small plastic bag around his wrist.

“Thanks.” Clark took it.

“I…” Conner sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Look, I just wanted to apologize. I told you I'd help out with the boat, and then I canceled on you.”

Clark shook his head. “I was worried I'd scared you off. I'm sorry, too, by the way. For… well, everything that's been going on. Our lives aren't usually this crazy.”

“I figured.”

“Hey, Conner?”

“Hm?”

Clark glanced down at the soda in his hand before exhaling and continuing. “I can't just pretend I didn't hear what John said in there.”

Conner closed his eyes in what appeared to be resignation and bowed his head, but didn't interrupt Clark.

“What was that about you having an assault charge?”

“I wish I could tell you it's bogus but… yeah.” Conner muttered. “It's currently pending. And… not inaccurate.”

“So, you did-,”

“Yeah.” Conner cut him off. “I did.”

Before the conversation could go any further, John opened the motel room door and beckoned them back in.

Bernard sat on the edge of the bed, right where he had been when they left, although his eyes were now red.

Conner went right to him and sat beside him.

Bernard grabbed his hand and held it like it was the lifeline he'd needed.

“So what's the plan?” Clark asked John, noting that the other man didn't look too happy.

“That's what the four of us need to decide. Right now, as far as the law is concerned, Conner is a runaway and Bernard is in Gotham.”

“What? I'm where?” Bernard looked up, brow arched in confusion.

“That's what your parents’ official statement is. They filed a missing persons report on you, but retracted it and told officials that you’d contacted them and were staying with family.”

Bernard's jaw tightened and he stared at his socks, but didn't otherwise react.

“I will have to investigate and collect evidence of your story, but that, combined with the paperwork your parents had to fill out to remove you from the hospital before you were treated, and the photos of how your injuries look right now should be enough to remove you from their custody.”

“But that'll take time, right?” Conner asked.

John nodded. “That's right. And if I bring you back to Metropolis, Bernard will most definitely be put into foster care for his own safety.”

The boys' grips on each other's hands tightened.

“Is there any way they could stay here?”

John turned to Clark. “That's what I'm thinking of. But I don't want them staying in this motel. They're teenagers.”

Clark nodded. “I agree.”

“Could they stay with you until I've got things sorted out back home?”

Clark nodded and then looked at the boys. “Does that work for the two of you?”

“A- are you serious?” Bernard's head twisted between both adults, and then to Conner. “We get to stay?”

“Bernard, you're turning seventeen in a few weeks, if I'm remembering correctly. Given what's been going on and the fact that, according to the online GED course both you and Conner have been attending, you're actually doing well in your studies, you should have a strong case for emancipation. I can say that you and Conner messaged me and sent your side of events, in addition to these photos, and I, being Conner's foster father, of course had to look into things.”

Both boys sighed in relief.

“Alright.” Clark gestured to the door. “Go ahead and pack your things. Make sure you've got everything, and we can get you two checked out of here.”

“Yes, sir.” Conner rose and stepped past them to grab his suitcase, only for John to grab his hand.

“Before I go, what's this?” He asked, indicating the bandage.

“An accident.” Conner made no move to pull his hand back, which somewhat surprised Clark.

“On both hands?” John pressed, not believing him.

Conner's eyes flicked over to Clark's briefly before returning to John's. “A mistake.” He relented. “I found out some new things about Lex. I'll… I'll call you later.”

John sighed and let go of Conner's hand. “Alright. Just make sure it was a one time thing.”

Conner nodded, and then quirked his mouth up into a smile. “You got it, Cobra Bubbles.”

John rolled his eyes and joined Clark at the door, though Clark noted that he didn't look like he hated the nickname.

It must have been some sort of inside joke between the two.

“I’ll call tonight to check in on how everyone's doing. Hopefully I'll have some news myself.”

“Alright. Bye, Mr. Jones. And thank you.” Bernard smiled gratefully at him.

“It was great to meet you, John.” Clark shook his hand, and Conner waited patiently for the two to notice him waiting his turn to say goodbye.

John turned to him and, with a sigh, pulled him into a hug. “You stay safe, okay? You scared the hell out of me when you just vanished.”

Conner returned the hug. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to worry you. I just wanted to protect Bernard.”

“I understand that. And that was very brave.” John pulled back from the hug and placed his hands on Conner’s shoulders, looking him in the eye. “But if you ever do something so stupid again, I don't care how old you get, you will never be ungrounded again. Do you hear me?”

“Yes, sir.” Conner nodded. And then he held out the gas station bag. “Here. For the road.”

John took the bag and looked inside, shaking his head when he saw that Conner had bought him a full pack of Oreos.

Chapter Text

While the rest of the pod was busy welcoming and making room for Bernard and Conner, Tim was out in the open ocean.

And he was quickly learning that he may have gotten in over his head. A day in the ocean was so much harder than he had anticipated.

Fishing was a skill he'd learned as a pup, but he'd only ever fished inside the confines of the lagoon.

Out in the ocean, the fish could simply avoid him by going… anywhere.

Even down.

Which was another thing he was struggling to get used to.

Down.

The lagoon had deep areas, but nothing compared to what he was seeing now.

Most of the time, he couldn't even see the seafloor.

Logically, he knew it was there, but a decade of living in shallow water meant that he was used to being able to see the bottom.

And he was used to knowing that there was nothing dangerous swimming below him.

The wide open endlessness that stretched out all around him made him feel queasy, and thinking about how vast and just… big the ocean was almost made him want to turn around and go back home.

Where it was safe.

And familiar.

And small.

Tim shook his head vigorously and held up the map again. The waves pushed it around a bit, but he had gotten used to reading against the currents.

He had been given several maps of the surrounding coastline, in several different formats, and had noticed something odd.

There was a rocky outcropping that had been dismissed as a possible hiding area due to being a rocky outcropping that, when viewed on a sonar map, almost looked like part of a ship.

It was a bit further up the coast then the search parties had been going, and no one had checked it out yet.

So Tim would.

Inhaling the frigid water, gills flared wide, he steadied his nerves.

And then dived.

The ship, if it really was a ship, was deeper than he'd ever gone before.

It was deep enough that his vision was starting to be affected and he had to strain his eyes to see in the darkness.

But he kept going.

He'd come this far.

He wasn't about to turn back.

The ocean floor came into view and he was able to make out geological formations he'd only ever seen in photos or on tv.

It was breathtaking, and he felt his heart skip when he got close enough to the sand that his tail disrupted a stingray, which immediately fluttered away.

Grinning at the fact that… this was all real, not some dream or show or picture book, Tim propelled himself forward, after a nearby fish.

It swam away and, just for fun, he followed it.

The world was… silent.

And dark.

And so different from home.

He felt a jolt of excitement go through him when he saw the fish had led him to a rather large cliff.

He had done it!

He had read the maps correctly!

So far, that was.

He still wasn't sure he was reading the sonar map correctly, and even if he was, he had no way of knowing if Bruce had really made it this far.

Slowly, carefully, he crept closer to the edge.

It all hinged on this.

Please be a ship.

Please let Bruce be there.

Taking one last breath, he swam past the edge and looked.

Yes!

He pumped his arms in victory and dove down, stuffing the maps into the drawstring bag he'd found and wrapped around his waist.

There was the front of an old ship poking out from a pile of boulders. Apparently it had sunk so close to the cliff that the last time there had been a landslide it had partially buried the rest of the vessel.

Without a moment of hesitation, Tim began circling the wreckage, looking for any opening, and peeking in every window-,

Wait.

Was that..?

Tim actually had to back up and look in the last hole he'd passed again.

It was hard to see inside due to the depth and lack of light, but Tim squinted and stared nonetheless.

There, inside what may have once been a storage room, was a large, dark shape.

A mer.

A large mer.

He appeared to be sleeping, stretched out on his side with his back facing Tim.

Desperately, not wanting to be wrong or get his hopes up for what turned out to be nothing, Tim strained to see more of the mer.

He had a very dark tail, but so did most mers who lived at this depth.

He was a Longfin, but Dick, Wally, and their pups were the only Shortfins left in the area, so that wasn't surprising, either.

But…

Tim looked closer.

He was alone.

Maybe the rest of his pod could have been in different areas of the ship, but something told Tim that wasn't the case.

He wasn't sure what gave him that feeling, but he just knew-,

The door.

Realization hit him the instant he saw it.

The thick, bent, metal door, the only way in or out of the room, was shut.

And, judging by the fresh claw marks gouged into the filth that coated the door and surrounding wall, he hadn't been the one to shut it.

Someone had trapped him in that room.

Bruce.

He had found Bruce.

He had found Bruce!

After six days of worrying, and searching, and heartache, and even running away from home…

He was now a scant few feet from his father.

The hole he was looking through was far too small for either of them to fit, so he darted away towards the back of the ship. The falling boulders had smashed open much larger holes in the hull, allowing him to enter with no trouble at all.

Slowly, he made his way through the ship, pausing at every door to see if it was the one he was looking for.

Until he finally found the bent door he'd seen from outside.

There was a tiny gap, just wide enough to let him peek in. Sure enough, laying on the floor, gills fluttering slowly, was Bruce.

Tim almost burst into tears on the spot, so relieved to finally see him again.

He had to get him out of there.

Moving back, Tim looked down and saw that a boulder had been dragged from the back of the ship and placed in front of the door, blocking it from opening.

Gritting his teeth, he braced his tail against the door and used it to help him push the boulder away.

It moved an inch.

Panting, Tim adjusted his grip and tried again.

The boulder moved, though slowly.

It was heavy, but Tim was determined.

He pushed again, and paused to lean on it for a moment.

That… yeah, that looked like it was far enough away to let him open the door.

He grabbed the handle and tugged, and the door scraped open, stopping when it hit the boulder.

But it had managed to open wide enough for Bruce-,

Something plowed into Tim before he even sensed danger.

He was just suddenly thrown to the floor, seeing stars.

A massive shadow loomed over him and he reacted on instinct, diving forward and just managing to slip by it-

No.

Him.

Trigon.

Tim's blood turned to ice as he took in the sheer size of the red mer now snarling at him.

Trigon.

The boat sinker.

He hadn't left after all.

But why stick around when every cop for miles around was searching for him?

Tim's eyes flickered back into the room.

Bruce.

Had he wanted something from Bruce?

Raven?

But… how would he know that Bruce had any connection to her?

Trigon lunged for him again, and Tim turned and bolted for the back of the ship.

He almost made it.

Just as he reached the closest hole, he felt something clamp down on his tail and yank him back.

Trigon whipped him back into the ship and across the room, quickly blocking the way out with his body.

Tim pushed himself up and winced.

His arm hurt, but he couldn't think about that now.

Trigon snarled and went for him again, and Tim scrambled to get out of his way.

Trigon was both huge and strong, but in the confines of the ship those attributes worked against him.

Tim was able to duck and dodge as the attacking mer flailed, trying to catch him.

He needed to get away.

He needed to get Trigon away from Bruce.

It had been six days since they'd last seen him and Tim had no idea how badly he'd been injured.

Gritting his teeth and hoping he was fast enough, Tim made another try for freedom.

And made it!

He turned the instant he was free and dove down, just barely managing to avoid being tackled by Trigon as he followed Tim.

Panicking but not hesitating, Tim picked up a metal pole from the wreckage scattered across the seafloor and kept swimming.

He banged the pole against the ship as he swam, trying to wake to Bruce so he could get out while his jailer was distracted.

Trigon, no longer restricted in his movements, caught up to Tim in no time and reached for him again, only for Tim to grit his teeth and swing wildly at him with all he had.

He made contact, knocking Trigon’s hand away.

Giving a vicious snarl of his own, Tim spun and bolted back towards the cliff.

He didn't have anything even close to a plan yet, but he wasn't about to let Trigon keep Bruce.

He wasn't going to let Trigon win.

Something caught his bag and yanked him to a sudden stop.

Tim twisted in Trigon’s grip and managed to solidly crack him in the side of the head, stunning him just enough to let Tim wriggle free.

The day he had seen his bio parents had been terrifying, but once he'd calmed down, something had occurred to him.

His parents were tiny.

And, sure, he knew that they were coastal Longfins, but in every single memory he had of them, they were big.

Huge.

Scary.

Threateningly imposing.

And every time he tried to leave the inlet, he'd been hit by crippling waves of terror that they were waiting just outside the border of his safe, little lagoon.

And that fear had followed him as he grew.

They would snatch him up.

Take him far away.

Far from his family.

His fathers.

His brothers.

His grandparents.

Friends.

Pets.

Home.

Far enough that he'd never see them again and there wouldn't be anything he could do because they had always been so much bigger and stronger than him.

But then he saw them again and, after the fear faded, all he had been left with was anger.

Anger and the realization that, after all the time that had passed, they no longer held the power over him that they used to.

He no longer had to fear them.

Trigon barrelled after Tim, who quickly dodged, much more built for changing directions in a hurry than the red mer.

He pushed himself to swim faster, dodging another blow.

Tim had survived his parents

He had survived seven years alone with them.

He wasn't about to die here.

Reaching the wreck, Tim whirled around and raised the pole, bracing one end of it against the ship, just fast enough to catch the full weight of Trigon the ship sinker.

Unfortunately, he wasn't fast enough to get himself out of the way.

Tim was knocked back against the ship, hearing something crack, and then he sank down to the sand.

Stars danced in his vision as he held his head and felt the water move around him as the large mer thrashed wildly, wrestling with the pole now sticking out of his chest.

He tasted blood and wasn't sure who it came from.

Trigon turned and swam off.

Heart still racing, Tim pushed himself up-,

And almost passed out.

Something was wrong.

Something hurt.

His chest.

His side.

He lay in the sand, vision growing darker, feeling consciousness slipping away no matter how hard he tried to fight it.

The last thing he saw, off in the distance, was a glowing…

Something.

A light.

Coming closer.

Chapter Text

The sound of the boat's engine turning over was music to Clark's ears.

“Whoo! Yes!”

And apparently Conner's as well.

Clark, Conner, and Damian had been working on the boat all morning, having spent all of the previous day getting Conner and Bernard moved out of the motel and into the Kent house.

Ma and Pa, upon hearing the whole story, had basically adopted Bernard on the spot.

He was currently staying up at the house on account of the low fever he was running, which also ended up being the reason Conner had canceled his plans to help Clark with the engine.

The two had stocked up on medical supplies before running away, but had struggled with rationing them. Treating Conner's hands had tapped into more of their dwindling supply than they'd really been able to afford.

But now they were no longer on their own and no longer had to worry about rationing medical supplies, food, money, or anything else.

“You know, I don't think I've ever seen this thing actually run.” Jason, home for a short break, commented.

“Well, you're about to-, wait, really? I thought you were adopted when you were a kid.”

“Pup.” Jason corrected Conner. “And, yeah, I was. But Clark had already started treating it like a gondola by that point.”

“You remember what Dick was like as a kid.” Clark broke in, holding Damian and making sure all of their tools were returned to their boxes.

“I don't have to remember. He hasn't changed much.” Jason shrugged. “But good point. I wouldn't want that dumbass anywhere near a propeller.”

“Precisely. Though, I'd like to remind you that I never turned it on even when he was migrating.”

“What's that got to do with-, Hey!” Realizing what his father was implying, Jason's expression turned from smug to offended.

“So, does this mean we can help with the search now?” Conner asked.

“Yes.” Clark nodded, mirth fading.

They had finally (finally!) fixed the boat's engine, but that was only part of their current problem.

They still had an entire ocean to search.

“I'll tell you what. Can I borrow your phone?” Jason climbed from the dock onto the boat and held out his hand.

Clark pulled out his cellphone and handed it over.

Jason dialed a number and held the phone to his ear, waiting for the call to be picked up.

“Artie, hey. It's me. Listen, you guys head back out without me. Clark's boat is working again so I'm going to stick with him today…. Yeah… Great… Okay, I'll see you tomorrow.”

Jason handed the phone back and began helping clean up.

“You're coming with us?” Clark adjusted Damian so he could step back on the dock and offload his tool chest.

“Bruce and Tim are already missing, this boat hasn't been mobile in almost twenty years, and according to Bruce you didn't learn to swim until after you had adopted me.”

Conner whipped his head around to stare at Clark, who offered no comeback this time.

“All things considered, I'd feel better if I was out there with you.”

“I'd like to vote for Jason coming with us.” Conner raised his hand. “That way we'll be able to search more than just the shore.”

“Alright. That's a good idea.”

“Jason's coming with?” Damian asked, craning this neck to look up at his father.

“Jason's coming with.” Clark replied.

Yyyyy

If he was being honest, Clark knew he should have expected issues given the selection of his children that were coming with, but he had been more focused on Bruce and Tim to consider that.

Not to mention remembering how to pilot his old boat.

“That looks rough. What happened?”

Conner, taking his eyes off the surf for the first time since they'd cast off, looked down where Jason was pointing.

A scar on his bicep.

“Hn? Oh. Broke my arm when I was nine. Football.”

“Dang. It looks like it was painful.”

Conner shrugged. “How about that hole in your tail? What's that from?”

Clark watched them both from the wheel, ready to step in of nescecary.

“Spear.” Was Jason's overly casual answer.

“Spear?” Conner repeated. “You mean like a ‘spear’ spear?”

“A ‘spear’ spear?” Jason raised an eyebrow. “As opposed to what, a toy spear?”

“How'd you get it?”

“... Training.” He finally said. “I lived with another pod for a while and learned the hard way a lot. Hey, Clark!” Jason turned and called back. “Stop here. Go ahead and drop the anchor.”

Clark did as directed, Damian watching from his bucket of water beside the captain’s chair, and dropped the anchor.

“Where are we?”

Jason slipped under the railing and held on, dangling over the water. “Theres a series of underwater caves and tunnels in this area. It's already been checked, but not thoroughly. I'll be back in a few.”

He let go and hit the water with a splash, disappearing from view quickly as his tail blended in with the surrounding darkness.

Not too long after he left, Clark became aware of the fact that he and Conner were left on the boat together until he came back.

Without anything to really do.

Damian had snagged a rubix cube from the toy chest before they had set out and was occupied.

All of his fishing equipment had been left on the dock.

The only thing they had to pass the time was…

Talking.

And it seemed like that was the conclusion Conner had come to as well.

“Hey, um,” he came over and sat, legs hanging off the side of the boat, “now that we're… out here, I think I owe you an explanation. About the whole… you know… assault thing.”

Chapter Text

Clark sat beside Conner silently, both of them watching the waves until he was ready to talk.

“I never… Bernard and I never really planned on sticking around Smallville for very long. Not that we had any kind of plan, just… I knew that, if I didn't meet you now,” Conner looked down at his hand, turning it over to see the full bandage. “there's no way I'd ever come back to try again.”

“Because of Lex?” Clark guessed.

Conner nodded. “When I was fourteen I started telling my therapist, John, my old coach, anyone I thought could help, really, that I wanted to track down my bio family. But I had a sealed file. They couldn't help me. But Bernard went and secretly bought me one of those DNA test kits. The ones where you can find out your whole lineage. I, uh, was a bit surprised when I got the results back.”

“The two cis men part, or the local billionaire part?”

Conner let out a little laugh. “Ehh, both. I mean, I figured one of you was trans, but my school had just taken a field trip to LexCorp a few months prior. Lex himself gave us a speech about working hard and never giving up, so… finding out that that was my dad, that I had not only seen him in person, but the first thing I'd heard him say was one of those stereotypical ‘dad speeches' that always happen on tv,” Conner bent his head. “I was so excited that… it felt like fate. Like I was the main character in one of those corny old movies.”

Conner absently picked a leaf of the railing and let it fall to the waves below.

“I told John I was going to hang out with Bernard one day, took that paper, and just… went to LexCorp.”

“Did he hear you out?” Clark asked.

“No. But… that's because I got there and just… sat in the lobby. I was too scared to say anything. To anyone. Eventually I just went home and told John what I had done. He helped me get in contact with Lex’s secretary and, after explaining who I was, a meeting was scheduled.”

“I won!” Damian squealed with joy, holding his toy high above his head. On one side, two red tiles were right next to each other.

“Good job, buddy! Can you do that again?” Clark praised.

“Imma get blue!” Damian declared, already twisting the toy back and forth.

“Sorry about that.” He turned back to Conner. “You were saying?”

Conner didn't respond right away.

He just watched Damian play in silence for a minute, his expression unreadable.

“Conner?” Clark reached out and touched his shoulder.

“... Did I tell you I used to play football?”

“No, I don't think so.” He wasn't sure what had caused the sudden topic switch, but Conner was focused back on the water again, already talking.

“I know people who used to play sports always talk about how they were ‘the best of the best’, or they ‘could have gone pro’, but… I was the first freshman in the past ten years to make the varsity team.”

“Wow. That's impressive.”

“Yeah. I was never a great student, but I wasn't too bad, either. My lowest score was a C-. By the time I was a sophomore,” Conner trailed off and rubbed the back of his neck, “I… had offers from a few colleges already rolling in. They wanted me to keep them in mind for when I graduated, and two of them even wanted to have me enroll in some college credit program that I could do in addition to my regular school. They all said they wanted me on their teams. That they saw this great, bright future for me.”

He swallowed hard and absently ran his fingers along the scar on his arm.

“When I met Lex, I… I was intimidated. I had dreamed of that moment for so long, getting to meet my parents. But he was an insanely successful businessman, and I was… just a high school student. I was so desperate to impress him that, during our conversation, I told him about everything that was going on with football. And then I invited him to a game.”

“Did he go?”

“I honestly didn't think he would. But… that weekend he just… showed up. He brought a bodyguard. Sat in the stands. Ate popcorn. Cheered me on.” His voice dropped to a mutter. “It was the best night of my life.”

Clark felt a mess of emotions as he listened to Conner's story.

He knew first hand just how skilled Lex was at making someone feel special.

And how quickly he lost interest in something once he found it wouldn't make him money.

He hated that Conner had had to meet Lex at such a vulnerable age, without any sort of prior knowledge of who he actually was.

“My whole life I'd only ever had stand-ins. People who showed up, filled the role of a parent when needed, and then passed me on to the next. But that night? I'd never felt anything like it. I don't think I'd ever been that happy. I…” Conner huffed out a breath and turned his head away, but not before Clark saw the slight redness in his eyes. “Looking back on how everything went, I feel so stupid for having been so happy. I never should have trusted him. But… in the moment? I had a dad. And… he made time for me. He actually came to my game, and cheered for me, and met my coach. And John. And Bernard.”

Conner's voice broke and he crossed his arms, resting them on the railing.

“Conner, if you're not ready to talk about this, we don't have to.”

“No. You took us in, knowing that I assaulted someone. You deserve to know what happened. And… I… I think I just… need to tell someone what he did to me.”

Chapter Text

“Lex started coming to all of my games after that. Sometimes even practice, too. My coach didn't mind because I was suddenly playing better than ever. My teammates loved it because Lex would occasionally let his bodyguard play around with us. The only ones who had any issue with him were Dinah and John.”

Conner set his chin on his arms.

“I just… thought John was jealous. Or worrying about nothing. And… despite everything else in my life going great, I was regressing in therapy. My anger issues had been getting somewhat under control, I had exercises and breathing techniques that helped, but after I met Lex, they worked less and less often. Which was a problem because I needed to use them more and more. I kept getting worked up. Things that usually didn't bother me, little things I'd typically be able to navigate emotionally on my own. It was like I was a powder keg and everything around me was a lit match. And then I started having trouble calming down in completely unstressful settings, because I was stressed, angry, and confused about *why* everything was setting me off.”

“Were you trying to focus too much on Lex? Showing off for him?” Clark ventured.

“That's what we thought at first. John kept trying to get me to uninvite him from coming to my games anymore, and even my coach brought it up to me at one point, but I refused. He was my dad, and he was coming to my games, watching firsthand as I impressed college recruiters. I'd wanted that for my whole life, and there was no way I was going to just throw it away. Not… not even when Bernard suggested it.”

Conner trailed off, once again tracing the scar.

“What was going on?”

Conner inhaled, and then exhaled.

Slowly.

“One day, we were in the locker room after practice. Just me and my teammates. Coach was… I don't remember where he was. Just that… we were alone.”

His voice was tight, and Clark could tell that this was difficult for him to talk about.

“We all were friends, and jokes and pranks were common. Little things for a laugh, nothing serious, you get the idea. Just… boys being stupid. But my heart rate wouldn't slow down that day. I was just trying to get changed and get out of there so I could call Dinah, but… I opened my locker and one of those spring loaded snakes jumped out at me.”

Clark really, really didn't like what he was hearing.

But… Lex wouldn't-,

No.

The Lex he thought he'd known wouldn't.

The man Lex really was, though?

He didn't seem to have limits.

“Conner?”

“The guy who's locker was right next to mine started laughing about how he'd gotten me, and… I don't… really remember what happened next. Just… everyone was yelling. Grabbing me. Holding me down.”

His face scrunched up and he closed his eyes, like that could let him hide from the memories.

“He put a prank snake in my locker, and… I put him in the hospital. I was arrested. No one would tell me what was going on. My… my arm had been broken, so I was stuck in the hospital, handcuffed to a bed, with a cop watching me. They wouldn't let John in the room. They wouldn't let me talk to Dinah. When the doctors came to check on me, I was treated like I was a danger. Like I was just waiting for an opportunity to hurt someone.”

Clark's insides twisted and he scooted closer to Conner.

“My blood test came back positive for steroids. Coach gave me a huge speech about how disappointed he was in me and that I'd just thrown away my future. How I was off the team and, now that this was on my permanent record, all my scholarships would be pulled. John kept demanding to know who had sold them to me. Where I kept them. He… he tore apart my whole room looking for my stash. But… I've never taken steroids. I'd never do that. Coach always made sure we knew the risks and consequences, and my anger issues are something that I've been working my ass off for most of my life to get under control.”

“Did… Conner, was Lex… dosing you?” Clark could hardly believe what he was hearing.

Over the years he would occasionally think back on his relationship with Lex.

The good times they'd shared.

The way he'd always be able to tease him into showing that goofy little smirk of his.

The night there had been a blackout in the dorms due to a thunderstorm and the two of them had shared blankets and ramen by candlelight until the sun came up.

He knew now that that hadn't been who Lex really was, but it was still so hard for him to really grasp the reality that…

"He wanted a stupid 'feel-good, wholesome' story for the press and saw the perfect opportunity."

Lex had been a monster.

He'd never known the real Lex.

But his son had.

"'Local billionaire reunited with football prodigy son, years after giving him up for adoption.' I overheard him pitching headlines once."

Their son had.

Conner bowed his head, jerkily rubbing an eye with the palm of his hand.

“Everyone said that I was lying when I tried to defend myself. I'm not someone who's innocence is easily believed. But John and Dinah stuck up for me. They begged the police to look further, and… I guess they did. One of their detectives got suspicious that Lex hadn't made any effort to visit me, or even ask anyone how I was. They found that my water bottle tested positive and checked the school's security footage, which showed them that Lex brought me water. I… I never thought twice about it. I was never suspicious… because that's… that's what parents just *do*, right? Bring you water when they come to watch you play?”

“That's… that's what they should do. Conner, I'm so sorry. That never should have happened to you.”

Conner cleared his throat. “Yeah, well. Since he always had his bodyguard carry his shit and the cameras were image only, no audio, all that could be proven is that I got the spiked water from him instead of Lex. He insisted that he'd never do something like that to a kid, that he didn't know there was anything wrong with the water and he was just holding his boss's shit-,”

Conner broke off and quickly slapped a hand over his mouth, eyes wide.

“What? What's wrong?” Clark looked around, but the water was free of any mers.

“No, I just… I'm sorry. I just realized I was still talking in front of your kid.”

Clark turned, but Damian was fully fixated on the puzzle, alternating between twisting the cube and chewing on it.

“He's growing up with several older brothers, and Dick's kids already know every curse. Don't worry.” He assured. “And he's too young to understand what else you're talking about.”

“Are you sure?”

“I'm sure. What happened with the bodyguard? I haven't heard about any court case involving Lex lately.”

Conner shook his head. “And you probably won't. The guard confessed right around the time his sister was suddenly able to afford a major surgery she needed, if you know what I mean.”

“Lex paid him to take the fall?”

“Yeah. I don't know the full extent of what happened, there was a lot of legal talk going on that I couldn't follow, but… I'm not welcome in football anymore. For high school or college. John switched me to online school since there were a lot of rumors going around about me, and helped me get back into learning to play the guitar. But Devin's parents still want to press charges against me. I… I broke his nose, jaw, and cracked a few ribs. The case is still pending because we're both minors, I had no idea I was being drugged but I still attacked him unprovoked, and no one's really sure how to proceed.”

“Damn. That's messed up.”

Clark and Conner turned as Jason climbed back on board.

“I'm sorry, kid.”

“... Thanks.”

“Did you find anything?” Clark asked.

“No. Nothing.” Jason shook his head. “Lets keep going.”

Chapter Text

Several hours of searching later, and they still hadn't found any sign of Bruce or Tim.

Damian was starting to get fussy with only his rubix cube to play with, and all four of them were hungry, so Clark turned the boat back towards home.

“Check this out.”

Clark took his eyes off the surf when he heard Jason's voice. The mer was stretched out on the front of the boat right next to where Conner was sitting, one arm raised.

“Swam too close to a barracuda.”

“That's a… isn't that a car?”

“What?”

“A barracuda's a car, isn't it?”

“It's a fish. A very pointy, angry fish.”

One hand was on the throttle, about to bring them to a stop, when he noticed that Conner was grinning.

Jason rolled his eyes and elbowed Conner, who removed one of his shoes. He pulled his sock halfway down his foot to show something to Jason.

“German Shepherd. Four stitches.”

Jason nodded, impressed, and pointed to his collarbone, right below his gills. “Bitten by my friend's toddler. Has anyone ever told you that you humans are bloodthirsty?”

Conner laughed and turned, pulling up the back of his shirt slightly. “Don't tell John, but… a motorcycle fell on me.”

“What?” Clark blurted, momentarily forgetting that he was trying not to eavesdrop on their conversation. The two of them were bonding and he didn't want to interfere.

“It wasn't moving.” Conner defended quickly. “I tried to swing my leg over the seat to look cool getting off, my shoelace caught on the tail light and pulled it down on me. I landed on some rocks.”

“Butt out, Clark.” Jason called back to him, “We’re trauma-bonding. That's how we do it in this family.”

“That is not… how… oh, fine.” Clark gave up.

At least they were getting along.

“So Clark mentioned you're working on ‘The Queen of the Sea'?”

Jason turned back to Conner. “Yeah. Why? You know it?”

“I've seen it. Never been on it, but I know the owner.”

Jason raised an eyebrow. “Which owner?”

“Dinah. She's my therapist.”

“You meet her husband?”

Conner hesitated, examining Jason's face carefully before responding. “Yes, I've met Ollie.”

“Annnd?” Jason smirked.

“Annnd I'm not saying anything else until I know what you think of him.”

Jason laughed. “That bad, huh? Don't worry. He's a client, not a friend.”

Conner’s shoulders slumped as he sighed. “Oh, good. I didn't realize until after I'd asked that I didn't have anything nice to say about him.”

“Trust me, Dinah's spoiled trophy husband annoys everyone. He's a good guy, just…”

“Also an ass.”

“Precisely.”

The two of them fist bumped.

“Ever since he got swept out to sea years ago, he's gotten used to everyone doting on him.”

Conner rolled his eyes. “He's the reason I had to start doing my therapy sessions online. I'm not allowed in their house anymore. After he heard that I was going through withdrawals he flipped out and forbade me from ever being there again.”

“What?” Clark hadn't heard this before. Hadn't he said that Dinah was someone who had always looked out for him?

“Ooohh, yeah.” Jason winced. “I… think I know what that was about.”

“What?” Conner blinked.

Jason pushed himself up, pulling his tail in so he was seated at Conner's height. “My friend, Roy, is their son. He was a patient of Dinah's when he was young, and she adopted him when his parents passed away. He's… struggled over the years with substance abuse. They've gotten him clean before, but…”

Conner frowned. “The yacht?”

Jason nodded. “That was the last time he relapsed. He'd just gotten a call from the police that an ex-girlfriend of his passed away and he was going to be granted custody of their daughter. He didn't know he had a kid and… panicked. He ended up stealing and sinking the boat that night.”

“Wow. I guess that explains some things.”

“Yeah. Dinah and Ollie currently have custody of Lian while Roy works to prove that he's actually ready to be a parent. Which is also why our team has this job. It's part of Roy making up for what he did. I know that the way Ollie reacted to you was wrong, but… he was just trying to look out for his son. They're both… pretty protective of him.”

Conner crossed his arms and leaned back against the railing. “Look, I understand why he reacted the way he did, I won't fault him for that. But I still don't like-,”

He broke off with a lurch and they both grabbed the railing when Clark cut the engine suddenly.

“Hey, what-,”

“Shh!” Clark held up his hand, silencing Jason.

He could see the inlet just up ahead, but that wasn't what had caught his attention. He heard… barking.

“They don't usually bark like that.” Jason whispered. “That doesn't sound like they're playing. Something's wrong.”

“Do you think something snuck in while we were gone?” Conner asked, standing and coming over to Clark and Damian.

“Or someone.” Jason flared his fins and made a move to jump back down into the water, only to be stopped by Clark.

“Hang on. You're not going in there alone.”

“Why not?”

“Stay on the boat. We don't know what's in there yet, but if it's a mer, you'll be safer up here.”

Jason scowled but didn't argue.

He did drag himself back to where everyone else was gathered, though.

“Conner,” he ordered as Clark started the engine again, “pick up Damian. No matter what happens, stay on the boat and keep him with you. Got it?”

Conner nodded and complied, picking Damian up out of his bucket.

Clark steered them slowly through the inlet and looked around, quickly spotting Titus and Haly bolting up and down the shore, barking wildly.

They saw the boat and ran into the water, very clearly trying to get their attention, and then turned and bolted back up the shore again.

Towards…

“Oh, my god.”

A mer.

Laying limply in the dirt.

The only movement Clark could see was from the tide pushing his long tail around.

“Bruce.”

Chapter Text

Clark pulled the boat up to the dock and hopped off, hardly remembering to call over his shoulder for one of the boys to tie it up as he sprinted down the shore.

“Bruce!”

He could see blood.

Deep gashes down his back.

Forearm.

Tail.

Titus and Haly kept pawing at him, but he showed no sign of movement.

“Bruce!” Clark reached him and pushed the dogs away, dropping to his knees.

Should he touch him?

Roll him over?

He could see Bruce's chest moving, which was a relief, but that was it.

“Clark! I got Grandma on the walkie talkie!” Jason called from the dock. “How is he?”

Heart in his throat, Clark yelled back. “Bad! Call an ambulance!”

Clark couldn't tell how injured Bruce was beyond the cuts, so he carefully reached out and, with one hand on his shoulder and one hand on his torso where the scales began, rolled him over.

Or, he tried to.

Bruce's eyes suddenly flashed open and he jumped back, snarling and flicking his tail in an attempt to splash Clark.

The sudden movement must have hurt something, though, because just as quickly as he'd jumped up he grimaced and slumped back down, panting.

“Bruce?” Clark stayed back. “Bruce, it's me. It's Clark. Can you hear me?”

Bruce grunted and cracked one eye open, growling lowly.

And then he blinked.

“C… Clark?” He rasped.

“Yes. It's me. You're home. Can you tell me what happened? Where are you hurt?”

“Clark..?” He reached up a hand shakily, eyes widening when he made contact with his cheek.

“It's me.” Clark whispered, grabbing the hand.

Oh, god.

His hand.

Every fingertip was raw and bloody, and he was missing three nails.

Scooting closer, Clark was able to see his other hand was similarly injured.

Wherever Bruce had been, he'd been trapped.

He felt Bruce's fingers twitch, weakly trying to hold his hand tighter.

“You're going to be okay. You're going to be okay, sweetheart. Just stay with me. An ambulance is on the way.”

“Made it… home…” Bruce whispered, eyes slipping closed again.

“Bruce? Bruce!” Clark patted his cheek, trying to wake him up, but he gave no response.

His hand rested limply in Clark's.

Yyyyy

The swimming area behind the clinic was silent.

That was what kept dragging Clark out of his thoughts.

He wasn't used to it being silent.

Every time they'd been there before there had been noise.

Conversation.

Laughter.

Pups splashing about.

Dick or Jason picking fights the moment they were bored.

Bruce… reining them in when they got out of hand.

Now the only noise came from the waves passing through the wooden slats in the fence.

Jason and Dick were in the water beside his chair, both of them silent.

Ma, Pa, and Wally had left hours ago to get the pups home to bed, but Jason, Dick, and Clark weren't leaving.

Not until they knew how Bruce was.

Leslie and Alfred could occasionally be heard through the closed door, but none of them could make out what was being said.

It was probably for the best, though, since they could tell from the tones being used that it wasn't good.

Besides, they had all seen him.

They were worried enough as it was.

“Hey, boys?”

“Yeah?” Dick snapped his head up to look at him, apparently lost in his own thoughts.

Clark swallowed hard before speaking, needing another moment to go over what he was going to say.

“When… when we're allowed back to see your father,” he sighed. “please don't mention Tim.”

“Bruce’s going to wonder where he is.”

“I know. But for right now, everything that can be done to find him is being done. He doesn't need to be worrying about anything other than recovery right now.”

“Okay-,”

Dick was cut off by the sound of the door opening.

All three of them whipped around, not expecting to see Sheriff Gordon.

“Clark. Boys.” He greeted, stepping out and closing the door behind him.

“Sheriff.” Clark returned. “What are you doing here?”

“I went by your house to talk to you and your parents told me you were here with Bruce.”

Clark sat up straighter. “Talk to me about what?”

Sheriff Gordon walked over to a nearby chair and sat down, removing his hat before speaking. “We found Trigon.”

“You did? Did you catch him? Was he arrested?”

“Somewhat. He was found washed up on a public beach a few miles up the coast. It looks like he finally picked a fight with the wrong person, and he's got to have surgery to remove a metal rod from his chest before anything else can happen.”

“Do you think Bruce managed to do that?”

Sheriff Gordon, looking slightly distracted, rubbed his chin. “Maybe. We don't know much of anything yet, but the investigation's still ongoing. Oh, but- just so I'm clear, if it turns out that Bruce was the one who injured Trigon, he won't be in trouble. This is a pretty clear cut case of self defense.”

“That's good.” Clark nodded, studying the other man's face. “You look like you have something else to say.”

Sheriff Gordon closed his eyes and sighed deeply. “Yeah. I… might also have a lead on your boy.” He pulled out his cellphone and tapped the screen a few times before handing it over to Clark.

It was a photo of maps.

The maps Tim had been obsessed with before taking off.

They were laid out on a wooden dock, from the looks of it one of the ones down in the harbor, but it was another detail that made Clark's heart stop.

They were nearly shredded.

“You said he took some maps with when he left. Do you recognize these as the maps?”

“... Yes. Where… where were they found?”

“In a bag in the belly of a tuna, unfortunately. The fishermen who found it know the general area they were fishing but not where that particular animal came from. And even if we did, we don't know where the fish could have picked it up.”

Clark barely heard him.

All he could focus on was…

Tim's handwriting.

He so clearly, so vividly, remembered Tim working on those maps.

So determined to find his father.

So careful to always keep them rolled and never folded.

“Clark.”

And now they were…

Destroyed.

“Hey.” Sheriff Gordon took his phone back, snapping Clark back to the conversation at hand. “We're not giving up. We've still got people out searching for him. But…” he frowned and leaned forward, forearms resting on his knees, fingers laced together. “I'm very sorry to say it looks like something has indeed happened. You might want to prepare for the worst."

Chapter Text

The yellow flotation device Bruce was strapped to was hardly noticed when Clark was allowed back to see him.

He wasn't allowed in the water with Bruce, but they held hands and kissed like they never thought they'd see each other again.

Because, for a while there, they hadn't.

Even when they separated, their hands remained clasped together.

Bruce was thin, weak, and dazed from the pain medication he was on, but held on tight to Clark's hands regardless.

Despite the fact that his fingers were tightly wrapped thanks to the damage he had done to them.

“Where were you? What happened?” Clark whispered, running his thumbs over the white bandages.

“It was Trigon. He… he locked me in some kinda sunken barge.” Bruce's voice was soft and hoarse as, on top of everything else, he was also sick and running a high fever.

“Is that why…” Clark adjusted his grip to carefully hold Bruce's fingertips.

“Tried to escape…” Bruce whispered. “But I couldn't.” He reached up and cupped Clark's cheek, needing the contact to assure himself that this wasn't some sort of dream or hallucination. “I thought I was going to die in there, but then I woke up one day and… the door was just open.”

“You think he let you go?” Clark asked.

Bruce hesitated a bit before shaking his head. “Thought it was a trap at first, but… there was blood outside the ship. A…” he broke off and closed his eyes to cough, breathing shakily for a minute once he was done. “A lot of blood. I could taste it in the water, and it was soaked into the sand.”

Clark shifted his position to a more comfortable one so he could still hold Bruce's hands while they talked.

“Did you hear anything?”

Bruce shook his head. “No. I'm not used to being underwater for so long and he barely fed me so I was asleep for a lot more of this past week than I'd like to admit. Why?”

“Because, a few hours after we found you, Trigon washed up on shore. It looks like he lost a pretty bad fight.”

“What?”

“He was stabbed through his chest with a pole and they had to airlift him to a clinic in Metropolis, but if he survives he'll be incarcerated for life thanks to everything he's done.”

Bruce frowned and blinked slowly, growing tired already. “I wonder if he was trying to bring someone else to the boat, like me.”

“Do you know… why he did that? Why he was keeping you?”

Bruce exhaled and weakly shook his head, drifting off once again. “He kept gesturing, like he was signing to me. But I haven't talked to anyone in that language since I was a pup.”

“Bruce?”

“Hm?” Bruce grunted, eyes closed.

“... I love you.” Clark whispered, leaning down to kiss Bruce's cheek. “Sleep well. I'll still be here when you wake up.”

Yyyyy

Bruce was awake off and on throughout the rest of the day, and only a few minutes at a time.

Leslie and Alfred were strict about him only getting one visitor at a time, so the two of them, Clark, and Jason took turns sitting with him.

Dick couldn't bring himself to face his father, though, so he and Wally kept busy trying to figure out where they stood with Raven's custody.

She was still in the inland facility, as transporting a lone pup across the country was a big ordeal and, since Trigon was now officially no longer a threat to her, the argument was able to be made that such a huge change would be more of a detriment to her than it was worth.

Due to his health and the exhaustion that still had its hooks in him, Bruce had yet to ask about where the rest of his family was.

Which meant that no one had told him about Tim.

That he was missing.

That the police had recovered proof that…

Something had happened to him.

And they might never see him again.

Clark was dreading that conversation.

He fell asleep that night, stretched out on a cot beside Bruce's pool, thinking.

Going over all of the non-lethal ways Tim's maps could have ended up destroyed and eaten.

Yyyyy

He woke up hours later to the sound of something falling.

Something loud.

Quickly, heart racing, he stood and…

Realized he couldn't see anything.

The room was completely dark, with the only exception being the machines at the side of Bruce's pool, dimly glowing and giving a constant readout of his condition.

But the rest of the room was pitch black…

Except…

For the…

Fairy..?

Clark wavered and slowly took one step forward, eyes fixed on the softly glowing, floating orb of light.

Was… that real?

Or was he dreaming?

He didn't… feel like he was dreaming.

But… he must have been.

Because that was a fairy.

Or… maybe a firefly?

Oh, goddammit.

Shaking his head and rubbing his eyes, he mentally scolded himself for freaking out over a bug in his half asleep state.

Something must have been left on the edge of a counter, which had then fallen over and scared it.

With a tired sigh he pulled out his phone and activated the flashlight so he didn't trip into any of the pools on his way to go clean up what had fallen-,

Beneath the firefly, reflecting the light, were two glowing eyes.

Clark felt his body freeze.

What… was that?

Whatever it was seemed to be just as afraid of him, though, as it was similarly frozen, staring right back at him.

Before he could think to move or even process what exactly he was seeing, two hands reached up, grabbed some sort of hood, and yanked it down, covering both the eyes and the… fairy?

In one fluid motion, it dropped down from the counter it had been seated on and scrambled across the floor, sounding just like a mer.

Clark was too shocked to think to follow it for a moment, his hesitation providing just enough time for it (them?) to reach the propped-open door and slip out.

By the time Clark managed to pull the door open again, there was no one in sight.

They had vanished, back out into the water.

Chapter Text

Clark didn't sleep the entire rest of the night.

The visitor never returned and Bruce hadn't woken up once, so by the time Alfred walked in the next morning to check on Bruce, Clark had almost convinced himself that he had in fact been dreaming.

Until Alfred, satisfied with how Bruce's vitals looked, stood and walked over to the counter where their guest had been and began looking around.

“Clark, did you happen to need something over here last night?” He called.

Clark shook his head and stood, focus shifting away from his still sleeping fiance. “No. But I think someone was here last night. I… guess I wasn't dreaming.”

“Someone?” Alfred raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah. I woke up when they knocked something off the counter and…” Clark hesitated, still not entirely sure what he'd seen. “You might get a better description from a security camera. I… was still half asleep, and they bolted pretty quickly. I don't think they stole anything, though.”

“That's good. I'll check the tapes once I'm done with Bruce.” Alfred nodded, moving over to a cabinet at the far end of the counter and pulling out what would be needed to clean and re-dress Bruce's wounds. “Are you doing alright?”

Clark ran a tired hand down his face and nodded. “Yeah. They didn't come near us, and Bruce slept through the whole thing.”

“I appreciate the information, but that's not what I asked.” Alfred replied, using a tone Clark had never heard from the man before.

A tone he'd only heard from his own father.

“I’m… honestly pretty exhausted.” He admitted.

This past week had been emergency after emergency.

Crisis after crisis.

And, while Bruce was home finally and Trigon was gone, he still had to worry about Tim.

Where he was.

If he was okay.

… How to tell Bruce that he didn't know where Tim was or if he was okay.

Not to mention the fact that he still had other responsibilities, what with Damian, Conner, and the farm animals.

Wally and Dick were watching Damian temporarily, but they had their own pups to look after as well as Raven's custody to figure out.

And Conner was helping Ma and Pa take care of the farm, but he had still never had experience around barnyard animals before.

“Go home.”

Clark blinked and looked up, not knowing exactly when he had spaced out of the conversation.

“Hm? What?”

Alfred leveled a look at him. “Go home. Get some sleep. Shower. Eat.” He continued gathering what all he needed as he spoke, voice gentle yet still leaving no room for argument. “You've got bags under your eyes and I can tell from here that you're run down.”

Clark frowned and looked back down at Bruce, still floating quietly as he slept. “I can't-,”

“Clark.” Alfred stopped splitting his attention between the medical supplies and Clark, turning to face him fully. “You need to.”

“Alfred… I can't.” He sighed.