Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He and Clark were still on maternity leave. At night during normal patrol hours, they took turns babysitting Jon. The newest addition to the family was getting bigger everyday.
Jonathan Bruce Wayne-Kent was now five months old and was now sleeping a little better through the night. Instead of waking every two hours, he was now sleeping for three hours at a time. Sometimes even four hours!
Most nights, Alfred volunteered for baby duty. But the boys were home. Clark felt that it was best to alternate the babysitting duties so that everyone had a chance to catch up on sleep and rest, himself included.
That evening, Clark voluntold Tim because it was his turn to relieve Alfred saying, “He needs to rest.”
Tim didn’t argue. He simply took the baby from Clark’s arms.
Seriously, he began explaining to Jon, “Dude, we’re going to go watch a classic movie flick. This is the start of your education. The Terminator is a fabulous analysis of the existential threat that AI poses. The double-edged sword of technology shaping our future. Opportunities mingled with the very real risk of losing complete control of our future lives.”
Clark watched him and then looked over at Jason who had been sitting at the kitchen island eating a slice of pie. He was holding the phone in one hand and a fork in the other while still managing to use the pinkie on his fork hand to manipulate the screen.
Jason looked right at Clark and shrugged, “I think it’s impressive that he can string those words together in a way that makes sense. Personally, I don’t think that he can spell most of them.”
Alfred stopped washing dishes.
“I’m fine,” Alfred said turning away from the sink.
He looked upset as evident by the deep creases in his forehead.
“I know,” Clark replied simply. “And we’d all like you to stay that way. I’m not going to push my newborn son off onto you every night because I can. You need to sleep just like everyone else.”
Alfred looked upset, still he turned back to the dishes.
Under his breath he mumbled, "I once went without sleep for forty seven hours while taking on hostile fire. A baby isn't going to jar me." Alfred turned away from the sink and then stiffly snarled, "I will have you know that I did it all with an infected knife wound on my left buttocks!"
Shortly after Kelex had first healed him, Alfred had started showing up every night for the regular training sessions. He’s started to push himself harder than a man half his age should. The usual pains of old age were gone. Old injuries that had sometimes plagued him as residual pain and stiffness were now a memory.
He and Bruce worried that perhaps Alfred was overdoing it. However, the man was resistant to the idea of slowing down.
Somehow, aging had become a slap in the face. Mentioning it was tantamount to betrayal. And it felt as if Alfred was now...sensitive.
Suddenly, there was a minefield layered in eggshells around any situation where Alfred was made to ’feel old.’
Still, Clark wanted to make sure that they rotated any babysitting duties fairly. While at the same time allowing him and Bruce a little adult time.
While Tim watched the baby through the night Clark planned on fulfilling his patrol in Metropolis.
Their official maternity leave from work had quickly morphed into a stretch of R&D, for Bruce, when they weren’t crime fighting.
Bruce’s maternity leave had quickly resulted in a new car for Night Wing. It has always been a project that Bruce had meant to get too, but never seemed to have the time.
Suddenly, he had the time.
Dick was overjoyed and excited at finally having his own vehicle.
“My ride,” Dick had said happily. “Is going to be called Night Bird.”
Bruce was still watching the final download into the car’s onboard computer as he said, “Instead of naming it and worrying about getting the emblem on the car just right, you ought to be worrying about the security and defensive features.”
“I already checked everything,” Dick insisted. “Defensive and offensive weapons are installed, working, and loaded. Smoke pods, the oil slick packets, parachutes, and grappling hooks all checked. And, the fuzzy dice are even in place.”
“Take it seriously,” Bruce grumbled.
As Dick put his mask on, Alfred didn’t hesitate to remind him, “Keep your communications open at all times.”
Dick threw a hand up in Alfred’s direction as he gunned the car happily.
Then he drove out quick enough to be a nuisance, but with just enough restraint for it to not be completely reckless.
Jason had been upgraded to a sports bike.
The paint job was planned as red as his hood.
At the design meeting Bruce had simply warned his son, “It has minimal features, Jason.”
“Ricochet,” Jason had said somberly as he looked at the bike's specifications. Jason had simply shrugged and said, “I just need it to go fast and be maneuverable.”
Bruce seriously warned him, “This is a fast arrival and a fast getaway. That’s all. It’s much quieter than the bike you’ve been training on. The autopilot is on the left like we discussed. Aside from an ejector seat that will shoot up and back a hundred feet, you don’t have anything else.”
Jason had nodded. “That’s all I want.”
“You’re going to need as much stealth as possible. I’ll keep working on the engine and cut the sound down while I can try to increase the speed.”
“What about the thrusters that you put on the Batmobile,” Jason asked seriously.
Bruce took a deep breath in and blew it out as he though it through while he stared at the red bike's design. “I can do it. It’ll be loud as hell.”
“If I need the thrusters, who cares?”
Bruce had only nodded in agreement.
And because it had needed minimal alterations, it was ready at the same time as Dick's car.
“Communications on, Master Jason,” Alfred said as Jason put his domino mask on and pulled his hood down.
Bruce went to stand near Alfred as they watched Jason straddled his bike. He didn't hesitate to take off into the dark maw of the cave entrance and the night beyond.
Alfred hit a button on the computer, closing off and hiding the Batcave’s entrance from the outside world.
Alfred didn’t hesitate to say, “They think that they are grown up and invincible.”
Quietly, Bruce admitted, “Every time I’m not with them out there, I worry.”
“I know this constant state of worry well,” Alfred said simply. “In this family, it’s called parenthood.”
Bruce didn’t respond.
Alfred sat down at the controls.
Kelex was near by. Floating silently.
Monitoring.
Learning.
Kelex seemed to constantly be expanding its understanding of the family of humans that surrounded it.
And again, it was hovering nearby observing as Alfred watched their backs and monitored their interactions.
Three computer monitors were already up. One was tracking the signal put out by the GPS tracker on each of the boys and their vehicles functions. The second was flipping through all available traffic cameras as the computers tracked their signals through the city. And the third, was real-time map of the city that showed traffic lights, police vehicles, active roadway constructions, and current detours.
Instead of speaking further on the matter, Bruce turned away and to got himself ready for his patrol.
It was a familiar ritual. Warming up his body. Donning his Kevlar and then the armor that shielded his body. Once his utility belt had been refilled and he was absolutely confident in his equipment, he began his walk to the Batmobile.
On his way out, he stopped.
His dark figure was already blending into the darkness of the cave.
“Don’t stay up all night, Alfred,” Bruce had said simply.
Alfred’s only response was, “You’ll be late to beat down some punk…sir.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Usually, Clark arrived first. His patrols over Metropolis were usually shorter since he extended his senses out. He monitored vast distances for the greatest threats and dealt with them accordingly.
The Batman’s patrol was uneventful. By his definition that meant that he wasn’t directly hurt during the few altercations that he’d had that evening.
The police had received the usual kind of wrapped up perps. Sobbing criminals grateful to be alive. Evidence and or stolen goods at their feet.
Clark was a little later than usual in getting home, but it worked out that evening.
Bruce had just arrived.
He had unclasped his cowl at the base of his neck.
He was just dragging his cowl up as Clark touched down.
When their eyes met, Clark couldn’t help but smile. Bruce’s eyes were bright. He wasn’t smiling, but happiness touched his eyes.
Clark walked right up to him and smoothed back his ruffled hair. It always looked wild when the cowl came off.
Bruce didn’t hesitate to take Clark’s hand and kiss it.
Clark smiled.
Finally, Bruce smiled too in that way. It was a filthy thing that mirrored exactly what he was feeling at that moment.
Clark turned to look at the open door to the bedroom at the end of the dais.
The bedroom was there for all the practical reasons.
Bruce turned to see Alfred still at the controller watching; the boys had yet to return.
He didn’t hesitate to say, “There is an extra power dampener on the nightstand.”
Clark smiled.
Instead of answering, he didn’t hesitate to use the very edge of his abilities to get himself naked in the bedroom’s en suite bathroom. Before the water fell, he was standing in the tiled shower area, waiting. The water eventually fell, and he washed off as much sweat as possible.
By the time Bruce walked into the bedroom, Clark was waiting in bed. He was toweled off and ready.
Bruce punched in the door code and scanned his eye. The giant, reinforced, metal disk that acted as a door slowly began to roll into place.
Bruce walked over to the bed as the disk continued to close.
He watched Clark with a content look on his face.
He unlatched the arm braces as he watched Clark open the small led lined box on their night stand.
Clark pulled out the dampener and put it on around his neck.
Bruce had taken the opportunity and time to craft the collar-like piece specifically for Clark. Instead of a delicate chain or cord, Bruce had created a thick foundation that wrapped around him making the squared off oval of the dampener's centerpiece. It housed and slightly altered the kryptonite inside. Under the treated glass, the centerpiece was able to dampen Clarks’ powers so that he could experience a normal life.
Or, as normal a life as two superheroes could have.
Once his arm guards and greaves were off, Bruce's uniform came off quickly.
Bruce slid into bed meeting Clark in a kiss. He slanted his mouth across the other man’s mouth. The kisses were slow. Deep. And messy.
Clark instantly felt the stress melt away as the contact soothed every stress in his body.

Chapter Text

He'd originally made the soft and spreadable chocolate sauce for one of Damian's school functions. He and Alfred had used it originally to make sandwich cookies for the kids.
The leftovers, they were smearing across each other's skin and then licking it up.
That Bruce liked being on top. This fact was not in question. He liked control. He liked making it good.
Their hands were tightly clasped as they writhed against each other.
The kisses were messy and tasting of chocolate.
Their movements dedicated.
Physical.
Beyond understanding was a place where they acted on instinct seeking pleasure.
Even with the power dampener sitting around his neck. It's effects were still enough to quiet his abilities and make life closer to normal. Still, his hearing was still sensitive enough that he heard it.
The sound was that of metal hitting sometime.
A cry rang out and echoed in the cave.
The distraction was immediate.
A moment later he recognized the voice.
"Dick!" he shouted as he jerked Bruce off of him.
Despite the erection, Clark reached for the power dampener and threw it into its lead lined box.
The moment the lid was closed he felt his powers return.
With its nullifying abilities gone, Clark rushed to the door. He knew that the wake that he'd left behind knocked Bruce onto the ground because he heard the dull thud of flesh.
He ran only stopping momentarily to pick up his underwear.
By the time Bruce sat up enough to ask, 'What's going on?' Clark had already typed in the code.
"Dick is screaming," Clark replied as he pulled up his boxers.
The door took forever. It rolled slowly out of the way.
It took so much time that Bruce had enough time to get up off the ground, find a pair of shorts, and join Clark at the door.
"What do you mean screaming?" Bruce complained as he put on his own shorts.
A second later, the door had opened sufficiently that Clark was able to fly out. He used every ounce of his speed to reach the car.
He found the Night Bird teetering off to one side. Held precariously by luck, at the edge of the ravine that began at the edge of the concrete dais where the vehicles sat.
He could see Dick inside. He was in pain, tilted to one side, and holding a his hand over his arm. He'd secured a tourniquet around what was left of his arm. It had slowed the arterial spurt of blood, but it didn't stop it.
The smell of blood was overpowering.
Clark gripped and righted the car.
As the car went down on all four wheels Dick grunted painfully again. Not only was the metallic smell of blood in the air overwhelming, but it was also already dripping out of the car.
"Dick!" Bruce called as he ran towards them.
Clark walked up and pulled the car's driver's side door off its hinges and more blood splashed out. He threw it away carelessly. Instantly, he saw the source of the blood.
Dick looked terrified as he screamed, "I wasn't fast enough!"
Under his hand blood gushed. His arm was held on by the uniform and flesh that remained attached. His arm hung uselessly. What little skin that was visible was unnaturally white. The flesh below the cut was starting to turn a white-grey color.
Clark rushed forwards and pulled him out of the car. Clark pinned the useless arm between them and carried Dick towards the medical area.
Bruce was already running, one hand holding down his painful erection.
Clark moved as fast as he could towards the medical area. His only thought was to get Dick to the metal table where they triaged all injuries.
Over the intercom, Alfred's voice could be heard, "What is happening? I just got an alert!"
"Dick came back hurt," Bruce said quickly. "We're handling it!"
The moment that Clark set him down, Bruce was ready with scissors in hand. He cut away Dick's uniform exposing the damage.
Dick's arm had been sliced almost by a third. The bone was exposed and cut free of his body. His flesh was exposed. The blood drain spurts out in time with his heartbeat.
After a moment, Bruce said, "I don't see threads or foreign matter. Kelex!"
Kelex was already close by. He floated towards Dick with one of his long fingers already held out.
Kelex immediately went to work as Clark held Dick down. Bruce busied himself with holding Dick's arm in place so Kelex could reattach it.
It only took a few moments for Dick to lift his head up.
"What!" Dick shouted confused. "What the hell is that smell?"
"That would be sex," Clark said calmly as he easily held the man's shoulder down.
"We were having adult fun," Bruce bragged. "Now, shut up and hold still! Or I'll shove my fingers in your mouth! You'll taste what we were up to a few minutes ago!"
Dick didn't hesitate to shout bloody murder. Despite the damage to his arm, Dick tried to pull away from them.
The moment Bruce said, 'Okay' they both let go of him.
Dick launched off the metal table and crawled away a dozen feet still howling in disgust.
Alfred ran in, shock written across his face.
Dick pitifully screamed out, "Cum and chocolate! Cum and Chocolate!"
Dick shook his head dejected.
Alfred turned to the two men and surveyed the area. Bruce and Clark still had erections jutting out under their underwear. The chocolate sauce stains on their skin. There was a mess of blood leading to the table and all over. And the robot, was slowly floating away.
"Ah," Alfred said turning to the boy sobbing on the bare concrete floor. "Alfred is here, young master."
Alfred walked over the Dick and helped him up.
Sadly, Dick explained, "Cum and chocolate, Alfred. They smell like...cum and chocolate."
Dick began to sob quietly.
"Yes, Master Dick. Let's get you upstairs. A warm shower and a meal will make all this unpleasantness a thing of the past. You need food and drink to replenish yourself."
Alfred walked Dick towards the elevator.
Bruce looked down at his hands. They were covered with his son's blood.
Bruce smiled a little so that it looked more like a grimace, and said, "I think we need a shower."
"I'll meet you there...slow poke," Clark said.
A moment later he disappeared, and Bruce smirked.

Chapter Text

Clark didn't like it when his mother took the bus. And she preferred not to fly.
As a concession, Clark got his mother a pass for the train. It meant that she could travel to them whenever she wanted.
it also meat that, his action of giving her that pass could create friction between Bruce and his Ma. He worried at first. But, she was lonely and he knew it.
He didn't want her to fall into depression...again.
She'd been a bit lost since her husband died.
They'd gotten through relying on each other. But now, with his work, marriage, and the instant family that he suddenly had...
He couldn't get out to see her as often as he wanted or needed too.
It was better if she traveled...for every possible reason.
It gave her something to do. And more importantly, something to look forwards too.
Also, she didn't stay long because she still kept chickens. Her visits were usually overnight, just long enough to visit without butting heads with Bruce.
As was becoming normal, Ma arrived on Friday afternoon.
She brought with her a large plastic container full of brownies which she immediately opened the moment that she walked through the door. She quickly walked through the house offering the contents to everyone.
Clark and Dick were closest to her. Clark didn't hesitate to walk over and take a brownie. Dick hesitated, even going so far as taking a step back.
"I don't understand, sweetheart," Martha said confused.
He carefully explained, "Well, something happened during one of my patrols."
Dick hesitantly looked at Clark who gave him a stern look in return. "I think that I'm starting to understand why father wants us training so hard. I feel like I didn't have to work so hard at first. I was naturally fit and strong. Agile. All the junk food is catching up with me. If I want to keep my edge I'm going to have to work for it."
She tilted her head and said, "They're just brownies. You love brownies!"
"I do," Dick said in agreement. "And because of that, I'm willing to consider Keto based brownies if they come from you. Other than the times when you are here spoiling me, I will remain on a strict Carnivore diet."
Tim reached into the plastic container in her hands saying, "Don't worry, grandma. I'm not on a diet."
Jason reached for a brownie too saying, "We'll make up for his shortcomings."
Dick smiled. "I plan on putting on at least twenty pounds of muscle."
Marth turned to Clark and said, "I don't know what most of those words mean."
"It's a diet," Clark answered. "It's mostly meat and fat. I'll send you a few links to your tablet so you can read up on it. The recipes already exist. You just have to adjust the products that you use. It's mostly, no sugar. No flour."
Hesitantly, she said, "I don't know if I like this idea. Are you sure that it's safe?"
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
That evening at the family dinner they sat down to a beautiful table. Alfred and Martha had both cooked. Somehow, they'd found a cooperative place where they were able to work and match each other's skills without any apparent issues.
Alfred had concentrated on preparing meat for the table and had baked bread.
Martha had concentrated on sides. She put a side casserole of cheesy corn, mashed potatoes and gravy.
Just like at the farm, once the food was ready, Martha yelled out, "Supper's ready! Come and get it while it's hot! Last one to the table does the dishes!"
Clark heard her call from his desk in the library. He didn't hesitate to get up from his desk and run.
He ran with a smile on his face thinking that he'd be the first one there. Even with the power dampener around his neck, quick and decisive action was key.
When Clark arrived at the table, everyone was already sitting there looking at him. Even his husband was sitting at the head of the table waiting.
Without missing a beat, Bruce helpfully said, "It's polite to wait for everyone to arrive."
Clark blushed hard and sat.
“I have an announcement,” Martha said easily as she took her seat. “There has never been a question that the farm and all of the other Kent lands would go right to you after I pass, Clark. I never imagined that I’d have so many grandsons.”
“Handsome grandsons,” Dick said helpfully.
“Brilliant,” Damian chirped up.
“Lady killer,” Jason added.
Tim held up a fork with a piece of skewered steak adding, “Don’t forget charming.”
“So many grand babies,” Martha squealed happily. “I’m glad there are five of you. I wish there were forty more.”
Then he held her hands out instantly commanding everyone’s attention. “Whatever happens, I just want everyone to remember one incredibly important thing. One thing that I need all of you to do. Family responsibility doesn't end with a person's death. The farm land and the rest of the Kent Land, it never leaves this family. I don’t care what it’s used for. You don’t ever have to live on it. But, it has to remain in the family. And it will be protected...always.”
She turned to meet Clark’s eyes, “You know what it means to me. It’s sacred land. We are only the caretakers.”
Before Clark could say anything, Bruce said, “I’ll talk to the lawyers in the morning. This house is being held in trust. Can’t be sold. Can be lived in. Hopefully, forever. If you want to add the land. It'll be protected.”
She turned to look at Bruce. Her face showed a little surprise and a bit of hope.
He held a forkful of food up to his lips. A moment later, he said, “You have my word of honor. The papers will be to you as soon as possible.”
Then, e went back to silently eating his food.
Martha smiled a little and nodded. Then, she picked up her fork and began eating.
“Oh, my God that was civil,” Clark said flabbergasted.
Dick tipped over closer to Clark and whispered, “I’m scared.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
That night Bruce walked into their bedroom.
Clark was already in his pajamas and laying under the blanket.
“Coming to bed?” Clark asked as he lay down and put a hand on the baby at his side.
“Regretfully,” Bruce began to say. “I have some work that I need to finish downstairs.”
Clark already felt his eyes droop. He simply nodded feeling quite tired. "Weird. I'm really tired today."
Bruce walked over to him. "It's a lot and the baby needs a lot of attention."
Clark smiled sleepily. "Thank you for being so understanding with Ma. The land means so much to her. She considers herself the caretaker for her tribe's sacred land. She takes it incredibly serious."
Bruce bent down so they could kiss.
He even adjusted the blanket over both Clark and their son.
It was sweet.
Clark only had to close his eyes and nodded right off.
Jon was asleep in his side crib at his bedside. His hand was sitting just on Jon’s little body.
Bruce was smiling when he turned the lights off.
Clark fell into a deep dreamless sleep.
He didn’t even sense when Bruce got to bed that night.
It was simply a calm, dead sleep. The kind of sleep that only came when you finally got to sleep after being at the mercy of a newborn for five straight months.
At least it was calm, until Clark felt Bruce pull away from him and jump out of bed.
Clark rolled over just enough to see Bruce standing next to the window staring at him.
The early morning light was just starting to stream in which was odd.
He liked sleeping in a blacked out room. The morning light always bothered him. The light filtering window film and blackout curtains that he'd had installed simply weren't there.
Bruce looked upset.
Clark pointed up and said, “I thought I closed the curtains on all the windows last night.”
Bruce just stared at him.
Finally, Bruce asked, “Why are you here?”
Clark smiled like a complete smart ass and said, “Because I don’t like sleeping under the work benches in the Batcave as much as you do.”
The look on Bruce’s face didn’t change.
Clark instantly thought his reaction was odd.
He usually at least smirked a little and had just enough sense to look at least a bit sheepish. But none of that happened.
“Are you okay, Bruce? Did something happen?” Clark slid out of bed and stood up. He padded across the carpet to the end of the bed.
When he took a step towards Bruce, he watched a tight look on his face get more tense as Bruce took a step back.
Clark stopped moving.
Confused, Clark asked, “Bruce, what’s going on?”
Carefully, Bruce asked, “How do you know who I am? Where I live?”
It was Clark’s turn to be confused. Carefully, Clark asked, “Did something happen?”
Bruce sidestepped away from the bed and towards the other end of the room. Clark watched him move slowly. It took him a moment.
Very confused, Clark asked, “Bruce why are you… Are you trying to get to the…”
Clark shook his head. “We removed the kryptonite from the safe.”
Bruce looked momentarily startled.
“How?” was the only word that came out of this mouth.
“What do you mean how? The combination is your parent’s anniversary. I asked you to move it to the safe in the Batcave when I moved in.”
Clark went still the moment he saw it.
Slowly, Clark pointed up at Bruce’s hand. It was his turn to be god smacked as he asked, “Where’s your ring? You never take it off.”
Clark took a step back.
As if suddenly remembering, Clark turned to the side crib at his bedside and found nothing.
No side crib.
No sleeping baby.
The panic that rose up in Clark was sudden and complete.
“Jon!” Clark called out as he moved towards where the crib should have been. He even pulled on the blankets hoping that the baby was somehow still there on the bed somewhere.
He slowly turned and looked around the room and noticed that the room looked like it had before the renovation. The old bed. The old furniture. The old door before he’d had a pregnancy-related hormonal upset and thrown it out a window.
After Bruce had produced the first working prototype of the power dampener, they’d been able to move into the master bedroom.
Clark finished turning and surveying the room.
He faced off with Bruce and asked, “Are we married?”
Bruce didn’t answer.
His face was stone.
It was answer enough.
“I’m not crazy,” Clark said simply.
Clark held up his wedding ring.
The recognition on Bruce’s face was instant. Instead of the usual look, it was a dark thing that took over his eyes. It was the kind of look that he hadn't seen on his husband in a long time.
As he looked into the man’s eyes, Clark sadly said, “You aren’t my husband.”
The statement was more for himself than for the man in front of him.
“Husband?” Bruce said in a tone that said it all.
Almost immediately, Bruce snapped out, “Are you insane! Get out!”
Clark looked around the room feeling a bit dizzy.
He took a few steps back and walked towards their bedroom door.
No.
Not their bedroom.
Clark walked out the bedroom and gently closed the door behind him.
When he stepped further out into the hallway there were tears already streaming down his face.
Clark walked out and noticed that the children were already standing in the hallway. No renovation to the house meant no soundproofed walls.
The boys were in the hallway watching him.
They looked startled.
Clark cried harder when he saw their blank faces.
Clark watched Dick stumble out a guest room; he was holding onto the wall. He’d lost the arm that they’d worked so quickly to save. He looked drugged.
It ended abruptly a few inches under his shoulder.
What was left of his arm was heavily bandaged.

Chapter Text

They wound up in the kitchen.
When they got there, Clark didn’t hesitate to go down to the servant’s quarters. There were three rooms present: Alfred’s bedroom, his personal weapons room, and his personal library/reading room.
“Alfred,” Clark called out. “We need you.”
Clark returned to the kitchen and immediately went to the cupboard. He got his and Bruce’s cups. He set them on the counter.
Out of habit he went to the kettle and set water to boil as he prepared two cups of coffee.
Dick sat down in a chair and leaned heavily on his good side. There were dark circles under his eyes. He looked thinner than the last time he’d seen him.
“First things first,” Clark said seriously as he set the two coffee cups on the counter. “No matter what is going on.
Damian walked up and sat at his usual seat.
Clark didn’t hesitate to go to the fridge and get the milk. He set it down next to him and then went to the cabinet that had the cereal. He got two boxes.
“You are my family,” Clark said firmly as he set the Cocoa Puffies in front of Damian and the Captain Crunchy Bits in front of Jason.
He went to the cabinet where the bowls were. He reached for two cereal bowls as he said, “I don’t know what is going on. But we’ll figure it out.”
Clark stopped to get spoons out. Then, he deposited a bowl and a spoon in front of each of the boys.
Damian didn’t hesitate to ask, “How did you know that’s my favorite cereal?”
Jason then asked, “How did you know where we keep the spoons?”
Clark turned to Damian and said, “You’ve loved Cocoa Puffies since you first had them which was when you first came to live with your father.” He turned to Jason and said, “You simply refuse to grow up. And Alfred moved the spoons to that drawer after the faucet mysteriously began shooting water across the kitchen one day.”
Clark turned to Tim and said, “We had our suspicions about the faucet spontaneously exploding and the cameras going out at the exact same time. But we never named a culprit.”
Tim only smiled hesitantly and looked away quickly.
“After, we never did put the spoons back.” Clark turned and pointed, “They used to be in that one. But, I have always suspected that Alfred likes them there. Because it makes the kitchen flow a little better. And let’s face it, Alfred isn’t going to admit that he didn’t think of it first.”
Someone cleared their throat.
Clark turned to find Alfred standing in the doorway.
No.
Not his Alfred. This Alfred had the same bearing, but he also had an eye patch and scarring that extended out from under the patch. The scars look like burns. Pink. Puffy. Angry things that spoke of pain.
Alfred didn’t look happy.
Still, Clark smiled. Gently, he said, “You know I’m right, Alfred.”
Clark went to the coffee press. He pulled it close and opened the cabinet above. He pulled out Bruce’s special coffee and spoon in enough for two cups. The water had already boiled. He filled the coffee press with hot water and unplugged the kettle.
He tilted the kettle over the sink to make sure that there wasn’t any water lingering so that Alfred wouldn’t get upset.
Clark picked up the coffee press and walked to the island where the cups were waiting.
Clark stood there for a moment. It didn’t take very long for him to say, “You are all my family. I won’t leave. Dick, we need to heal your arm.”
“It’s gone,” Dick said in a low hurt voice. His voice was raspy as if he hadn’t spoken in a while.
Clark managed a little smile. It was forced and so very fake. But he managed it.
Clark went to stand next to him. He put his hand on his eldest son’s good shoulder and said, “You listen to me. You are my son. And I will now allow you to hurt like this. I’ll get Kelex back here. He’ll heal you. It was the first thing that we did before.”
“There is no before,” Bruce said roughly.
Clark turned to find the man standing at the entrance to the kitchen.
Unlike Clark who was still wearing his pajamas, Bruce had dressed in his usual suit and tie.
Clark heard it in his voice.
Clark took two steps towards the man and clearly said, “I don’t care if you don’t remember marrying me. We’re married. Live with it. I’m going to fetch Kelex and then I’m going to put him back in the Batcave where he belongs. I’m here to stay. So figure out what happened, Bruce. Or…
Clark stood there for a moment unsure.
Clark shook his head.
Finally, he breathed out and sadly said, “Please figure out what happened. We just had our baby.”
Clark held up his hand showing Bruce his wedding ring.
Bruce didn’t speak.
“It’s your father’s,” Clark confirmed. “You gave it to me. And so, we are very clear, I can’t leave your side. I’m dependent on you to remain physically stable.”
Bruce’s face finally registered an emotion beyond annoyance.
Clark smiled a little saying, “I was infected with a pheromone-based drug. Your presence. Your smell. Your touch. It literally keeps me from dying.”
Bruce’s face was a mask.
It was Alfred that walked up to Clark. He didn’t hesitate to reach down for Clarks hand.
“May I,” Alfred asked.
Clark didn’t hesitate to hand his ring over.
Alfred looked it over. Quietly, he said, “I see.”
Then, he handed the ring back.
“That ring belonged to Master Thomas Wayne.”
“I know,” Clark said easily. “My husband gave it to me at our wedding. We got married out in his mother’s rose garden. It was a nice quiet day; no emergency calls of any kind.”
Alfred took a step back and said, “I’m going to prepare-
“Seven eggs, two sausages, four strips of bacon,” Clark said cutting in.
“Today is the second Tuesday of the month and Bruce has the usual board meeting. That means he’s going to skip lunch and he needs a solid breakfast that will stick to his ribs. And,” Bruce said turning his body completely towards Alfred, "he doesn’t particularly like smoked kippers. Does he?”
Alfred didn’t reply. Instead, he turned and walked the wall where his navy-blue apron hung. It was clear that he was about to begin his usual morning preparations.
Clark turned back and saw the look on Bruce.
Clark didn’t hesitate to shake his head. “I know my husband. You can stop making plans to subdue, imprison, or chase me off. You probably already have kryptonite in your pocket.”
Clark walked back to the coffee press.
He pressed down the plunger as he said, “Three weeks without you is enough to kill me. Suck it up because I plan on taking over your Superman’s duties while I’m here.”
He poured out two cups of coffee.
Clark set the coffee press down on the counter.
He pushed Bruce’s cup forwards and said, “Don’t be a stubborn ass. We both know that you don’t feel right until you’ve had your cup of elephant dung coffee.”
Bruce looked from Clark to the cup of hot coffee.
“I didn’t drug it,” Clark said picking up his own cup. He took a good sip. He let it go down hot and perfect. He held the cup up to Bruce and said, “When I’m done with this, I’m intent on flying immediately to Antarctica. I’ve got to get Kelex.”
“Who?” Damian asked already pouring cereal into his bowl.
“Kelex is your friend. He’s a maintenance robot that I keep at my Fortress of Solitude. I’m going to bring him back, so he can heal your brother.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Alfred volunteered.
Clark had expected it, therefore he wasn’t surprised when had Alfred insisted.
The older man stripped down to his shorts exposing a body covered in scars.
Even mostly undressed, he still managed to look dignified.
He even removed the eye patch. Revealing a white eye that looked as if it had been through a lot. The scars were certainly extensive across his face.
The entire process took all of five minutes.
He was holding his arms out as Kelex floated around him slowly. One of his long fingers was held out to the man. Kelex moved that finger slowly around certain areas of Alfred’s body. He never made direct contact with Alfred’s skin.
Kelex worked on the man’s eye last. As usual, the scars easily melted away. The eye took a little longer, but the color soon returned. And then came the shock on Alfred’s face as he began to look around…finally.
When he was done, Kelex simply floated away a few feet and said something in a high-pitched artificial voice that only Clark understood.
Clark didn’t hesitate to say, “Now go ahead and move. Flex. You always tell us how two minutes with Kelex is better than an Ibuprofen 600 and a shot of Glenlivet.”
After a little moving around, Alfred said, “Yes. My word. That is amazing.”
Clark turned to Dick.
Dick was sitting in a chair leaning heavily to one side. He looked a little glassy-eyed. It was apparent that he was on serious painkillers.
Clark walked over and smoothed his hair back. “You are a project. It’s going to be a millimeter at a time, but you will get your arm back. Do you understand?”
Dick nodded sadly but didn’t look at Clark.
"This was easier in my reality because it was a fresh wound. Your arm was still sort of attached. Kelex was able to simply reattach it."
Dick's only question was, “How did it happen in your world?”
Clark smiled. “I imagine that it was about the same as yours. Your dad and I were back there in bed making love-
“No,” Jason said shaking his head. “Not the same.”
“I heard you crash your car out here. We came out and found you bleeding out in your car. Your arm was half severed. I carried you over here and we distracted you so Kelex to re-attach your arm.”
Dick was quiet as he looked at nothing in particular. His eyes stared out a bit glassy.
Clark pulled on Dick’s shirt saying, “Will you let us help you take these off?”
Hesitantly, Dick nodded and allowed Alfred and Clark to strip his shirt off. They were careful to not disturb what was left of his heavily bandaged appendage.
Dick smelled like old sweat, and metal to Clark. His body was trying to detox the drugs out that were keeping him pain free.
Clark couldn’t help the look that came over his face. “The pain and the bruising. He’ll fix it. You’ll feel better soon.”
Clark turned to Kelex and instructed him in Kryptonian to help Dick .
Kelex came closer to the young man and began his work.
As they watched the bruising faded quickly.
They could tell just simply by watching that Dick was feeling better. Slowly, Dick straightened. His posture improved. He even seemed to stand more firmly against the floor.
The glassy-eyed look slowly melted off his face. They watched as Dick’s eyes even began to focus more as he became more alert.
After a few minutes Dick looked down at the few inches of arm that was left attached to his left side. He reached up and slowly began to unwind the bandages. A pile of stained bandages began to grow next to Dick’s feet.
Finally, he carefully began to pull at a heavy padding of gauze tapped down around the remains of his arm.
What he exposed was an arm that ended abruptly. The swelling had gone down, but it looked freshly removed.
Either Alfred or Bruce had sewn a piece of Dick's own flesh around the gaping wound. The surgical suture's were large enough that they stood out against his skin.
A part of Clark was appalled.
He certainly didn't want to harm him in any way because it looked red and angry.
But, he knew that it had to happen.
Clark gloved up.
He opened a pack of sterile implements.
Clark held up a pair of sterile scissors and a set of tweezers saying, "This is going to hurt. I'm going to do this as fast as a can. Hold still. By the time you feel it, I should be done."
Dick nodded.
He held his stump out exposing the flap of skin that had been sewn down over the jagged end of flesh and bone that had remained.
“Wipe off,” Clark said as he saw the ointments.
Dick began to carefully clean off his stump with the bandage padding still in his hand. He winced but didn’t cry out as he wiped away the shiny ointments.
"Ready," Clark said.
Dick nodded.
Clark gave him a moment and then he rushed forwards.
For a second he blurred out as worked as quickly and carefully as he could.
Dick's face tensed. He gritted his teeth.
Clark stepped back
Once disturbed, the massive wound quickly began to bleed as the flap of skin and flesh pulled away. A bit of clear fluid and puss also fell from the gapping maw at the end of his stump.
Kelex returned with his long finger. The tip was open revealing a wand. It retracted, and a secondary tool extended with a two-pronged tip.
Slowly, Kelex began to sweep the two-pronged extension across the torn flesh and bone.
The bleeding quickly stopped.
The jagged nature of the stump quickly began to change. The bone grew first. A few millimeters of bone smoothed out the jagged edges. Muscles slowly lengthened. Then, the skin grew. Thin at first. It was so translucent that they could see through it. They could see muscle and veins. And even, the blood rushing through the vein’s underneath.
Then the new skin slowly became opaque, like watching an egg white slowly cook on a warm pan. As it changed it began to hide the musculature underneath.
The color of it improved.
Finally, Dick said, “I like the idea of having Kelex here.”
“I know,” Clark replied in an exhale as relief flooded his body. “Superhero work hurts. I don’t care how strong you are. How careful. How much you plan everything out. You are going to get hurt. Kelex is an insurance that my family will remain functional and able bodied. I need that as much as you do.”
Dick met his eyes and said, “Maybe you haven’t lost your marbles.”
Clark laughed. “Yeah, I bet your father has a laundry list of theories at the moment. Anything makes more sense to him than the idea that he and I could ever fall in love. Let alone get married, raising kids, and having a baby. God in heaven forbid, that he’s a good husband, in a stable relationship.”
Jason quickly nodded. “It does sound like a fairytale.”
Damian then said, “Are you sure that you’re not possessed?”
Tim then suggested, “Secondary personality?”
Dick smiled. “Psychotic break?”
Clark didn’t hesitate to respond to Dick, “You hate green peppers, but you like hot chilies. You like peach flavored iced tea. Your favorite foods are fettucine Alfredo with beef strips. Rare. You like to spoon up the blood and cheese sauce off the plate like soup. And you absolutely hate jazz music.”
“Huh,” Jason said as he stared at Clark. “He’s got you pegged.”
Clark pointed at Jason and said, “Shepperd’s pie with ketchup, extra fresh ground black pepper. You don’t understand what a hamper is for; I usually have to hunt around in your shoes for dirty socks. You prefer to buy actual magazines and keep your porn in your night stand.”
Jason shrugged. “They’re more tactile.”
“And sticky,” Dick offered with a look of disgust.
“It beats getting my phone all nasty!” Jason replied quickly. “I hold that thing up to my face! I’m not touching it with cum fingers.”
Clark ignored them and continued with Tim, “You love time travel movies. All of them. We’ve been forced to watch so many. You hate scary movies, preferring comedies and sci-fi.”
Tim shrugged, “They give me nightmares.”
“And the baby,” Clark said to Damian. “You keep getting into fights at school. But when you do, you’re standing up for someone else. You love spaghetti and meat balls, but only if your grandmother makes it. Otherwise, you prefer Alfred’s chili, extra sour cream, extra jalapenos.”
“What grandmother?” Jason asked shocked as he suddenly sat up straighter.
“My mom,” Clark answered. “I’ll introduce you…again. She spoils all you horribly. The sheer amount of baked goods and cooking that she does while she’s here is unbelievable. All you boys do is eat. She and your father are basically the same person. They get on each other’s nerves and then they both drive me nuts.”
Clark fell silent as he looked around at the boys. “I’m not going to treat any of you like little kids. You aren’t. Until we figure out what’s going on, we’re sort of stuck together. The only thing that I know how to do is to keep being your dad.”
Clark didn’t hesitate to say, “You know your father… He’s a good father, but he has a little trouble expressing…
Jason said, “Anything.”
Damian said, “Love.”
Dick said, “Emotion.”
“Common sense?” Alfred offered.
When all eyes turned towards Alfred in surprise, he looked away quickly as if he’d been caught doing something wrong. He went back to getting dressed as if he hadn’t said a singular word.
Clark simply said, “I act a lot like support staff in his family. I’m pretty good at smoothing down the rough edges that he can leave behind. Teamwork takes more than one person.”
As Alfred adjusted his jacket, he said, “May I assume that you will not be leaving .”
“You may,” Clark said simply. “I’m not exactly sure what’s happening, but I do know that I will continue to be a part of my family.”
With his tie in hand, Alfred pulled up his shirt’s collar up as he said, “I shall prepare a room for you.”
The words made Clark sad. They hurt worse than he expected.
But as he thought about it, Clark realized that Alfred was right. He wasn’t even sure if this was his world, reality, dimension, or whatever.
This Bruce looked like his husband but might not be him at all.
Until they knew exactly what was happening it was best to keep his distance.
Clark nodded and said, “The green room. I’ll make a stop at your Superman’s apartment and pick up clothing and toiletries.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Clark knew that going directly to Bruce was a waste of time and spit.
He’d managed to build up a tolerance over time, but twenty-four hours was pushing his limits. By the time he and Alfred sat down in the kitchen for a conversation, Clark’s eyes had already started to change color.
“Metallic cobalt,” Clark answered the unspoken question when Alfred looked into his eyes. “Bruce says that it’s metallic cobalt. It’s my tell that we’ve been apart too long. I need something Alfred. Get him to meet me. I know that he’s more comfortable with ignoring me, but we need to talk.”
Alfred nodded his head quietly and walked towards the study and the entrance to the elevator that would take him down to where Bruce was.
Clark didn’t have to ask.
He didn’t have to wonder.
He didn’t even have to take off his power dampener and use his powers to know that Bruce would be down in the Batcave toiling away at something that would completely distract him. His go to move. Ignore it, get angry at it, or beat it into a bloody pulp.
Clark put his head down on the kitchen island and tried to rest.
He couldn’t help but laugh like a lunatic.
With his head still on the cool marble of the island, he said, “Call a Marine if you want something dead, broken, or pregnant.”
He huffed out another laugh. “Or my bat husband.”
He couldn’t help but think of him in terms of dead, broken, or pregnant because it fit. Even though he doesn’t kill, goes out of his way to not take a life, it still fit.
At some point, the counter reverberated.
Clark looked up and found that Bruce was there.
He didn’t hesitate to remove the necklace from around his neck. It landed heavily on the counter, “Put it away.”
Clark looked at the cabinet next to the refrigerator.
Bruce didn’t look happy but complied.
He took the necklace and moved to the cabinet.
He opened the cabinet. Inside was a small safe that took up a good six inches at the bottom of the cabinet.
He typed in this combination code and pressed his finger.
It unlocked with a click.
The moment that the safe was open Clark felt the Kryptonite inside cut right through him.
He groaned as it tore at his soul in a moment when he was already weak.
Bruce put the necklace away and closed the door.
The moment the safe’s door closed, Clark felt instantly better.
Clark smiled happily and held his hand out.
Bruce simply looked at his outstretched hand.
Clark didn’t hesitate to say, “It’s holding hands or kissing. Since you’re not my husband, I’d prefer to keep things platonic.”
Bruce thought for a few long seconds before reaching out and holding Clark’s hand.
Clark wasn’t surprised that it didn’t have the immediate effect that kissing, or sex had.
He breathed in deep taking in the man’s scent. It was exactly the same. The same smell produced by his skin. The same smell at his mouth. His genitals. His hair smelled the same. Even his anus.
Clark breathed in letting the man’s scent fill his mind.
“Thank you,” Clark managed. “I get weak and a little crazy.”
“How long?” Bruce asked quietly.
“Not sure,” Clark said seriously. “We never just hold hands. Not sure how long it’ll take to level out. Not sure how long the effects will last. Not sure how often we’ll have to do it again.”
Clark simply held on to the man’s hand as he continued to breathe.
Bruce’s first words were, “Since we’re all getting to know one another, I looked you up.”
Clark didn’t hesitate to smile. “Bruce, not only have I sucked your cock, I’ve born your child. Do you really think that you’re going to intimidate me by investigating?”
Bruce went quiet for a long moment. Finally, he said, “You haven’t left the house. Did you even call your work at the Daily Planet?”
“Yes, husband. I did. Thank you for your concern. I called my boss and told him that I was sick.”
Clark went quiet for a moment and then added, “The year and date are right. It’s not an issue of time travel. You’re the same. We had a sudden rat infestation. The rains flooded the caves and they came up through the tunnels. The kids dreamed up using a small drone inside the house equipped with a laser. The stone hallway and the staircase still have the burn marks.”
Bruce didn’t speak.
Clark shrugged and sadly said, “We just didn’t come together in this place .”
“You’re thinking… a different dimension.”
He thought about it for a good long minute before, Clark nodded. Then, he said, “Last night, you said, that you had something that you wanted to finish. I know I heard you go downstairs to the Batcave. The sound of elevator is distinctive. I fell asleep instantly. And then nothing till we woke up together.”
“What was downstairs?” Bruce asked.
Clark had to think. “The only thing that’s different is the shuttle.”
“What shuttle?”
“Mine,” Clark answered. “The shuttle that my birth parents sent me to earth in. In my version of reality, you sent Alfred to go get it two weeks ago.”
“Why?”
Clark smiled a little. “Ever since you began de-engineering Kelex you’ve done a deep dive into Kryptonian technology, the language, even our culture. You really wanted to understand. You needed more Kryptonian tech to fill in gaps in your research.”
“You think that the shuttle had the kind of ability to shift dimensions, altar reality, or something else?”
Clark met Bruce’s eyes and said, “I can’t think of anything else, Bruce. And, I’ve never really investigated what it can do. Why would I?”

Chapter Text

Clark stood towering over the dinner table.
“I wonder how many of you actually know that story of the bat man. No You’re all far too young.”
He took a deep breath and dramatically said, “Once upon a time, in a time long, long ago, there was a land known as Eng Land. And in this fairytale kingdom there was an unjust war. And the King fought it with his ministers and many brave lads.”
His audience smiled.
One or two laughed.
“They had to fight insurmountable odds. They accomplished this with an army of gentlemen. The bat man was a soldier or airman assigned to a commissioned officer as a personal servant. Before the advent of motorized transport, an officer's bat man was also in charge of the officer's ‘bat-horse’ that carried the officer's kit during a campaign. The soldiers that fought through that war didn’t all leave service after.”
Clark easily assured them, "They won...of course."
Clark stood up a little straighter and then said, “By the time I joined her Majesties army, it was the 70’s. The officer that I was assigned too was one of those few, dedicated and very traditional gentlemen who couldn’t do without his bat man. I served as his bat man. And, thus the first in this family.
“The word bât comes from the French word, meaning pack saddle. A bat man was, therefore, the man who took care of the luggage carried on the pack-horse or pack-mule. A servant. A person who does for others. Seeking neither compensation nor glory, it is a position which demands dedication and perseverance.
“As such,” Clark said and then paused. He had to stop and swallow hard. “I think that I’ve gotten to know you well enough Clark. I know that you will take very good care of him. You’re able to call him out of his single-minded focus better than anyone I’ve ever seen. Don’t let him get too sidetracked in tunnel vision.”
Clark picked up his glass of water. “For the toast you said, remember that a perfect marriage is just two imperfect people who won't give up on each other.”
Clark set his glass of water down and then sat.
Everyone sitting at the table was quiet as they watched him.
His shoulders slumped a little. “I remember the quote because Damian painted it on one of the windows and then used one of the lasers to try and etch it in.”
Clark smiled more than he thought he was capable of at that moment. He turned to Damian and said, “I guess you used the wrong setting. The window melted. The laser shot out and burnt up two of the trees on the perimeter, near your grandmother’s rose garden.”
Jason nodded, “Sounds like something he’d do.”
“Dumbass,” Tim muttered as he shook his head.
Dick turned to Alfred and asked, “How were the details?”
Alfred sat stiffly. Hesitantly, he said, “He isn’t wrong that is the history of the bat man. And, I was a bat man to an officer while I was in service.”
“Anyone can be researched,” Bruce commented easily as he continued to pick at his meal. His complete focus only on his plate.
Alfred turned to Bruce and said, “I’ve used that story before. Once and only once before, when I told it to you the day you decided to become a vigilante.”
Bruce’s eyes met Alfred’s once in anger.
Then he put his eyes back on his food and continued to pick at his meal.
“So,” Tim said slowly. “Where does the baby come out of?”
Clark turned to Tim and almost in a practiced way said, “The baby goes up not down. As we get further along the pregnancy, a pouch opening begins to form. I will temporarily lose my abilities as I get closer to giving birth and it rips open during the actual birth.”
“Cool,” Tim replied. “Does it hurt?”
“Yes,” Clark replied evenly. “But at the end of it I had a beautiful little boy. Your brother’s name is Jonathan Bruce Wayne-Kent. Right now, he’s five months old.”
“Is he a super?” Damian asked wide-eyed and full of curiosity.
Clark smiled. “Your father is convinced that he is. But, he’s only a baby. When I arrived on earth I was older than him by a year maybe. The sun powered me enough to destroy my crib during a nightmare after being here six months.”
“You didn’t answer the question,” Tim chimed in quickly.
“Because I don’t know,” Clark said sadly. “Jon’s still too small. But the longer that he’s on earth the more likely he is to develop abilities. I was strong and fast at an early age, but it felt as if it grew exponentially around the time that I was about sixteen. I didn’t fly till a few months after I turned eighteen.”
Dick didn’t hesitate to ask, “Really? It’s not like, here you go! Unlimited power!”
Clark laughed. “No. The longer I’m under the sun, the more power I seem to build up.”
Dazzled, Dick said, “That sounds great.”
Clark shook his head slowly. His picked up the power dampener hanging around his neck and said, “This keeps me from accidentally ripping doors off their hinges or breaking your bones.”
He dropped his head a bit. “It’s a personal fear, that one day I won’t have it on and accidently turn. Without thinking, I could hurt any of you... badly.”
Clark carefully said, “When I’m in the house. I try to always have it on.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Clark went downstairs. In his hand he had a cup of coffee, a plate of food in the other hand and a tumbler full of cold water under his arm. A sandwich with a side of baby carrots, and a few strawberries.
Easily eaten, finger foods that didn’t require him to stop whatever he was doing. Experience had taught him that those were the best choices to make when Bruce was in obsession mode.
That he found Bruce working was no surprise.
He’d done the same thing the last time too. Refusing to stop his work. Obsessing over Kelex, his internal functions. The math behind his circuitry. The materials that had been used to create him. And, his capabilities.
Clark walked in and set the food down.
Bruce didn’t budge.
He didn’t look up.
Bruce was far too busy ignoring him while maybe trying to concentrate.
Clark purposefully walked over and looked over the man's shoulder. He looked over at what he’d done so far. His sketch book was full of illustrations and ideas of what was happening in the circuitry.
He’d seen those illustrations before, or at least a version of them. He hadn’t understood most of it then either.
Clark turned away saying, “I need to borrow your computer for a minute.”
He didn't wait for a response. Clark didn’t hesitate to sit down at Bruce’s computer.
And, really it was Clark's computer. Clark had brought in the Kryptonian computer that he had kept at the Fortress of Solitude. He'd helped Bruce attach it to the central computer. And, Kelex had helped combine the two technologies by interfacing with both just like on Clark's world.
He typed in the oldest passcode that he could remember Bruce ever using. He knew that it wouldn’t be any of the newer passwords that had anything to do with their newborn son’s name.
Clark smiled when he got into the computer on his second try.
He opened a blank document and began typing. He easily began recreating several documents. The first was a technical reference document that Bruce had created comparing Kryptonian robotics to what currently existed on earth. Clark literally did a mental dump of images and phrases. He didn’t understand a lot of what he was typing out, he was simply regurgitating.
The second document was everything that he could remember from the scientific paper written by Martha Lara Wayne-Kent; a gift sent from the future by their daughter who had yet to be born.
The last thing he did was open drawing program. With a connected tablet and a stylus, he drew what he could remember directly into a program. He labeled it Kish’far an Ju Sha/Power Dampener.
When he was done, Clark got up.
He turned to find Bruce staring at him. He looked upset.
Clark pointed at the computer and said, “You’re better at this stuff than I am. I don’t find it all that interesting. This is as much as I remember.”
“Why are you giving me any information?”
Clark didn’t hesitate to respond, “Because I trust you. But it’s not free, you have to eat and drink whatever I bring you. No arguments. No complaining that I’m always bothering you." Clark dramatically called out, "My God! The constant interruptions!”
Then, Clark left because he knew Bruce well enough to know several things. He would be honorable enough to eat the food. He needed to be alone. He was about to become extremely busy and even more obsessive. And, he needed the space to do all those things.
Clark went upstairs and wandered into the kitchen.
He found Alfred in the middle of baking something.
Clark waked in and asked, “Madiera cake?”
Alfred turned to look at him and then easily corrected, “Victoria Sponge. The boys requested something sweet.”
“Ah!” Clark said nodding. “I want you to know that I just cut a deal with Bruce. He’s not allowed to turn down food or drink while he’s down there studying Kelex.”
Alfred took a step back and stared as if in shock.
“I know,” Clark said completely understanding the man’s reaction. “But I gave him a lot of information and I told him there was a cost.”
A bit surprised, Alfred said, “All food and drink!”
“All,” Clark confirmed. “I need you to keep him fed and watered. I need to go home to Kansas. I should be back by this evening. I’ll call Bruce when I’m close. I’m bringing back my…space ship.”
Alfred stood up somehow straighter than usual. He wasn’t looking at anything in particular when he breathed in deeply and said, “Yes. I believe that a space ship will most probably make him that much happier. He enjoys tinkering so.”
Clark smiled. “He enjoys becoming intellectually lost in a subject that challenges him and focuses him on one topic. He sinks into it wholly. Then he stops eating, drinking, and everything else. It’s fun for him. Hopefully, this time it won’t make us worry.”

Chapter Text

Clark flew straight up about a half mile and then turned in the direction of home.
He knew exactly where it was. He knew exactly how fast he could fly before his speed would cause issues with the people and buildings on the ground. He knew what landmarks to look for so that he could avoid populated areas.
The weather around him changed with the landscape. The high plains and the hill country soon reached out. They called him home.
The mountain that overshadowed the Kent farm was quickly in sight.
He could smell the lake and it's deep waters.
The forest that surrounded their home smelled strongly of Walnut, Elm, Mulberry, and Osage.
That smell always spoke of home to him.
He smiled.
The smell of manure was stronger then he remembered.
He turned to find cows in the West field. A herd wandered slowly, lazily chewing.
Clark stared at the cows for a long minute.
The last time he'd visited his mother didn't have any animals aside from a few chickens. She hadn't had a herd since Pa died. The weight of his father's death and the passing years had killed the ability to care for large animals.
Kelex had healed his mother's body on her last trip to the manor. He knew that she was more than capable. But, she hadn't mentioned that she was going to buy a herd.
He didn't even know that she'd had that much money on hand.
Clark bent his head and made a mental note to discuss money with his Ma. After investing in a herd, she was probably low on funds. And the idea of his mother barely scraping by bothered him beyond mention.
Besides, he worked and Bruce had given him access to lots of money.
Clark silently shook his head, his Bruce had given him lots of money. This world's Bruce wasn't his. Neither was his money.
Still, Clark wanted to make sure that his Ma was doing well. Even if she technically wasn't his Ma.
He began walking to the house.
It was lunch time.
He knew that his mother had cooked.
And, when the wind changed directions, it hit him.
His Ma had made Cheeseburger pie. He could smell the butter filled pie crust. The meat. The spices in the gravy.
She always made extra gravy, just in case he came by. She knew how much he liked the gravy, just like Pa had when he'd been alive.
A moment of sadness overwhelmed him. It always did when she made cheeseburger pie.
As usual, he swallowed the sensation of loss down and pushed it away.
He made an effort to put that smile back on his face and began walking towards the back door.
"Ma! I'm home!" he called out as he stepped up on the back porch.
He stopped two steps from the door. He stopped and turned.
He looked down and realized that the loose board had been replaced. It's replacement was clearly new wood and a lighter color than the rest.
He'd only noticed the loose board on his last trip. He'd made a mental note to fix it.
"Ma!" Clark called.
He turned and went inside as he called out, "Did you hire a handy man? I told you that I'd fix the porch-
Clark walked in and froze.
His body went cold.
His mind simply stopped working.
Sitting at the kitchen table was his father. He had a plate sitting in front of him. Cheeseburger pie, extra gravy, with a side of carrots. There was a fork in his hand.
He was wearing the same plaid checkered shirt that he'd worn for years. The same jeans. The same work boots.
The smell was the same. His skin and hair.
He smelled like hard work.
Motor oil.
Sweat.
"Clark?" his Pa called out.
His voice was the same.
Clark still didn't move.
His Ma walked up and hugged him.
Instinctively, he smelled her, just to make sure.
It was her.
He looked back at his Pa. Despite what his mind was telling him, he knew that it was his Pa.
No one could fake that smell, the sound.
"Clark," his Pa said. "Are you alright? You look pale."
His Ma stood back and looked up at her much taller son.
"Oh, my goodness!" she called. She touched his face. "You are pale! Clark, what's happening! It's not a fever!"
Clark dumbly shook his head.
To himself, Clark said, "He's not dead in this world."
Clark looked at his mother.
His father was getting up from the table.
"I'm okay, Ma," Clark said leaving her.
He took a few steps towards his father and said, "Pa, can I give you a hug?"
Clark couldn't help the tears that filled his eyes.
"Please," Clark said. "Can I hug you, Pa?"
Jonathan stared at him in confusion, but nodded.
Clark didn't hesitate to embrace his father carefully.
Even thought he didn't need to do so, he pressed his nose into his father's shirt and deeply inhaled. It made him laughed as tears streamed down his face.
Clark nodded quietly saying, "It's you. It's really you."
"Clark," Martha said seriously. "You're scaring me, boy. What's happening?"
Clark released his father and looked at him carefully. He looked older than he remembered him. He knew that the Jonathan Kent that he remembered died seven years prior. This Jonathan was greyer. His hair a little thinner. The lines around his eyes and around his mouth were deeper. Even his gut was bigger.
Clark smiled sadly.
Clark sniffed up the wetness.
When he thought he could speak, he cleared his throat.
He turned to his mother and said, "I'm not your son. Your Clark is missing. I think that I'm from a different dimension because in my reality Pa died seven years ago."
Clark looked at his father saying, "You were working on the back forty. I was visiting that day. I actually heard the sound, Pa." Sadly, Clark said, "One of the walls in your heart burst. By the time I got to you..."
Clark felt the familiar weight in his chest as he admitted, "I couldn't save you."
Johnathan put his hand on his son's broad shoulder. For a long time, he didn't say anything. They simply stared.
Clark felt tears slide down his face.
Finally, he said, "Son, when it's your time to go, nothing can stop it. Not even you. Don't carry around this pain that I'm seeing."
Martha didn't hesitate to ask, "What do you mean missing?"
Clark wiped at the tears on his face.
"I don't really know with 100% certainty, Ma. We're theorizing that we switched places"
She stared at him in that way of hers. It was the same way that she laser focused and dissected with her eyes.
It never failed to make him feel like he was about to be punished for something.
Finally, his Ma said, "You're telling the truth."
"You know I'd never lie to you." Clark held his head up and said, "In my world, Pa is gone. I'm married."
Clark smiled. "Turns out that Kryptonian biology is comparable to human. Bruce and I gave you a grandchild, Ma. He is five months old."
Clark turned to his father and said, "We named him after you. Ma insisted. I agreed. His name is Jonathan Bruce Wayne-Kent."
"Bruce Wayne," his Ma said disapprovingly. "That playboy in the papers!"
Clark shook his head. "That's just a cover for what he really does."
"Which is?" Martha Kent demanded, her hands already on her hips.
Clark smiled a little and explained, "He's the Batman."
The rising anger in her face seemed to melt away as she considered the new information.
Clark then added, "He has four boys: Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian. Also known as Night Wing, and the Red Hood. Tim and Damian are still training, but they plan on joining the family business."
Jonathan blew out a long stream of air. He shook his head saying, "That's hard on a parent."
Jonathan then pulled on Clarks arm saying, "Sit. Your Ma made cheeseburger pie. We're going to eat and then you're going to tell us what we can do to help."
"The shuttle, Pa," Clark said easily as he walked to the table.
Clark sat down next to his father and said, "In my world, Bruce already had the shuttle. He was backwards engineering it's technology."
Jonathan sat in his chair as he asked, "Does that have anything to do with this situation?"
"I think it does, Pa. This Bruce is just like mine. Too smart for his own good, and infinitely curious about everything. He's willing to try. But to do that, we need the ship."
His Ma arrived with a plate of food that he put in front of him. As she set a fork down for him, she said, "It's still under the barn. You can take it...after you eat."
Martha sat down.
She picked up her fork and pushed her food a little before she asked, "So how similar do you think your biology is to our Clark's."
Clark smiled. "The same. He can give you children too. Your midwife skills aren't helpful."
He thought before he said, "When it's your Clark's turn. Tell him that severe back pain is labor. Getting very sweaty is normal."
She leaned closer.
"He needs be on the floor. Laying forwards is a resting position. He's going to want to arch backwards, like in yoga. It's the pushing position. Once the baby is out, reach into the pouch, find the base of the cord, and pull it out. Quick and fast."
After a moment of thinking, she said, "Because you'll heal."
"And it hurts if it's caught under the healed skin."
Clark turned and caught an odd look on his father's face.
Clark swallowed hard and said, "I'm not human, Pa."
Jonathan only nodded.
He picked up his fork and began to eat.
"I've never thought of myself as being gay. I was never really attracted to man," Clark explained.
Jonathan looked up confused.
"I was exposed to something. A drug. For whatever reason, I went to Bruce. We were always...in a strained relationship. All I wanted was to be his friend and he'd push me away every time. Then that drug twisted my head and all I could think about was him." Ashamed, Clark said, "I'm glad that I didn't hurt him."
Everyone went quiet.
It was Jonathan played with his fork.
When he finally broke the silence when he asked, "Are you happy?"
Clark didn't hesitate to smile. "More than I've ever been in my life. I have an amazing family."
Then, Clark just as quickly shook his dead insisting, "It's not perfect. Like when the boys set fire to the stairway. Or when I first got pregnant and my hormones went nuts. I almost destroyed the house."
His Ma leaned in and nudged him with her shoulder saying, "We wouldn't know anything about that kind of thing, would we Jonathan. When you landed you set fire to the North and South fields."
Jonathan picked up his glass of lemonade. The ice clinked in the glass. He didn't hesitate to say, "He ran through the living room wall when he was three."
"Jonathan, don't forget that he walked through the kitchen wall too. Destroyed two cribs."
"He broke the door of the fridgedor three times," Jonathan said as he contemplated the cheeseburger pie sitting on the end of his fork.
"Okay," Clark said with a sheepish smile. "I get it."
"We can keep going," Martha said helpfully. "We were living with a force of nature."
Jonathan shook his head saying, "I had to keep ply wood sheets in the barn for emergencies. Do you know that half this house is held together with joint compound and good wishes?"
Jonathan ate what was on his fork.
Clark smiled and replied, "I'd forgotten how well you two worked together to put me in my place every time you ganged up on me."
Martha reached up and smoothed his hair back as she said, "It's not ganging up. It's called parenting. Since, you are one now, you need to learn how it's properly done."
Clark turned to her and said, "Please be nicer to this Bruce. You're kind of a nightmare to my husband."
"Your mother is not a nightmare!" Jonathan said sternly. Then a little more quietly, he conspiratorially he leaned closer to Clark and said, "She's kind of a pain in the butt though. A little crazy too."
"Pa," Clark warned. "She's in the room."
"And, she's staring at me. Giving me the eyes." He looked right at Clark and said, "I'm probably going to hear about this when you leave."
"Probably," Clark agreed. "You know she's just like my husband. Same scary warrior side to his personality. The only real difference between them that I can see is that mine is a vigilante."
His parents exchanged a look.
And then, Jonathan smirked.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
He had lingered for longer than he should have because he hadn't seen his father in so long. Clark had helped him with his afternoon chores.
They got to talk.
It was more than nice.
Clark hadn't smiled so much in years.
Clark was moving a stack of fifty pound bags of feed when he suddenly felt off.
He steadied himself against the wall and looked over at his Pa.
"I love this," Clark said simply. "But I don't feel right. I haven't since I got here. I think I've been away from Bruce for too long."
"You're going to go."
"Yes, sir. I think it's best."
Clark hugged his father again.
Then his father led him to the section of the barn floor closet to the entrance.
He watched his Pa use a drill to remove several screws.
Together they pulled up several panels off the floor and moved them outside.
Below the floor joists was a void.
Covered under several heavy duck canvas was what he'd arrived for.
"I had to rebuild this section of the barn around it. You're gonna have to remove these two floor joists out. It should slid right out."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Flying back wasn’t as easy as he’d imagined.
He felt weak and had to stop several times. He preferred it to falling out of the sky. He didn’t want to damage the ship.
When he was finally close enough, Clark contacted Bruce over his communicator and told him to open the Batcave’s doors, ‘I’m coming in with cargo.’
Clark made one last push towards the finish line.
He picked up the shuttle and flew low to the ground until he crossed over the dense trees and then down into the open maw of the Batcave.
He instantly heard the difference in sounds once inside the cave.
Echoes.
Dripping water.
Bats.
The smell was distinct.
Bat droppings and motor oil.
He stayed low and close to the concrete as he tried to be careful with the cargo sitting on his back and legs. It was just larger than a minivan. Compact, and sleek.
The concrete strip took him all the way inside to the concrete dais. The color difference in the concrete was immediate.
When he couldn’t go any further, he simply went down.
Clark felt the shuttle settle on top of him as he lay listlessly.
He saw a set of feet walk over.
Bruce ducted down and laid down on the concrete. He casually looked at him and asked, “Cargo?”
“Shuttle,” Clark huffed out. He used his last ounce of strength to extend his hand out towards Bruce.
Bruce didn’t hesitate to take his hand.
“What kind of shuttle?” Bruce asked.
Clark had to take a breath in and steel himself before he said, “It was my ride to earth.”
“Your eyes look weird again.”
“I know.” Clark took a deep breath in. Filling his chest with air caused the shuttle above him to teeter precariously.
Jason quickly arrived. He got down and crawled closer. The first words of his mouth were, “You’re eyes really are weird! What color is that?”
“Cobalt,” Bruce replied. “Metallic cobalt.”
Bruce turned to Clark and said, “If we hoist it up a bit, do you think you can roll out?”
Clark nodded.
“What if we drop it on him?” Jason asked.
“We can’t squish him. Hopefully, we won’t damage the shuttle. Where’s your brother?”
Bruce moved away.
Jason followed his father.
Clark heard Alfred.
After a minute, Bruce bend down so that Clark could see him. “Get ready to roll.”
Bruce moved away again.
Clark took another deep breath. The shuttle rocked again. As it rolled back to the other side in rhythm to his breathing, he heard Bruce call out. As they heaved, Clark pushed up. He managed to get out from under it as he moved the shuttle off to the side.
Clark managed to push away. Most of his body was out from under it, his foot was somehow caught.
Clark pushed up as hard as he could as he pulled his foot free. His boot did not make it out.
Still, he didn’t care as he fell back onto the concrete floor.
Bruce walked over and sat next to him as he said, “Is this the part where we hold hands and you sniff me...again?"
Clark didn’t hesitate to grab Bruce as he rolled over onto him. He pinned the man down and shoved his nose directly into his neck.
“Okay,” Bruce said a little surprised. “Wasn’t expecting that?”
Jason took the opportunity to lean casually against the alien ship, so he could say, “You know, you two make a cute couple.”
“Couple of what?” Tim asked as walked around the small ship. Then, he pointed and asked, “Is this the front door?”
“Don’t go inside,” Bruce said as he pulled up without being able to get away from the alien. His arms were locked around his body, like bands of flesh covered steel. Bruce couldn’t move. All he could do was flail his legs around like an idiot.
Bruce gave up and fell back.
“Do not go inside,” Bruce called out again.
As he watched as his kids very quickly figured out how to work the outside controls. The hatch door opened.
Bruce called out, “Don’t you touch anything?”
Bruce reached down and tried to pry Clark’s fingers. He wasn’t surprised when he couldn’t even move the man’s pinkie.
“Clark,” Bruce called.
Clark lifted his head slowly. He looked sleepy and tired.
“The ship,” Bruce hissed.
Clark turned.
When he saw that Tim had already gotten the small shuttle open and had half his body inside, Clark said, “No. I think the ship is the reason that I wound up here. Your father has to go first. Leave it alone, guys.”
Damian walked over to them. He was holding Kelex by one of his long fingers. Damian didn’t hesitate to say, “Father, what do you think is in the ship?”
Bruce lay his head down on the concrete. “Their technology is thousands of years ahead of ours. I’m still trying to figure out how the robot works. We’re chimps playing around with quantum computing power that we can’t even begin to understand, use, or replicate.”
Bruce wiped his face with the one hand that he had free. “Clark. Your husband is an idiot for thinking that he could just play around with it without any consequences.”
Clark sat up enough to say, “He’s trying to figure-
“I know. But it isn't exactly a baby carriage, is it? Your parents used it during an emergency situation. If I had to guess I’d say that he tripped something from its original programing.”
Dourly, Clark responded, “It’s a scout shuttle meant for exploration, long range.”
Dick sat down on the ground nearby.
“Long range,” Bruce repeated. “I wonder if that long range had anything to do with interdimensional travel?
Dick didn’t hesitate to say, “Conquering one planet is nice. I guess that conquering the same planet in five different dimensions is nicer.”
“Five?” Bruce asked. “Depending on who you ask, there might be an infinite number of dimensions.”
Jason smiled. “That’s sick. They could have wound up with millions of planets all the same one in millions of different dimensions. All paying their own taxes.”
“Gold,” Tim added. “Minerals. And whatever natural resources that they might have needed.”
Dick’s voice was unhappy but steady as he said, “Slave labor, women, anything.”
“I want to argue,” Clark said simply. “But I honestly I don’t know. My parents recorded a message. I know that Kryptonians were conquerors, but I don’t know the extent of what they did.”
Dick easily responded, “Even our first world country is propped up by third world labor. As advanced as your people were, I can only imagine that somewhere, someone was doing the dirty work.”
“If those extensions on the sides are weapons, then this very well could be military grade.”
Dick didn’t hesitate to get up and walk around to the front of the shuttle. He looked the ship over before he said, “One on each side and one at the top. They don’t look like turrets, but they could be weapons. They stick out of the body and they’re pointing forwards.”
Jason and Tim joined their brother.
They studied it for a moment longer before Jason turned to Tim and said, “This thing reminds me of a sports car.”
Jason nodded and replied, “It just looks like it’s built for speed and maneuverability.”
Dick stepped up and pounded on the armor plating of the hull. There was practically no sound.
Dick didn’t hesitate to say, “That is dense. This reeks of military.”
“I want to sit up,” Bruce said to Clark.
Hesitantly, Clark nodded and then allowed it.
Once Bruce was sitting up, Clark didn’t hesitate to spoon up behind him. He wrapped his arms around Bruce again and put his nose back into the neck.
Bruce did his best to ignore Clark as he said, “The easiest way into that ship’s onboard computer is to use Kelex. Which is why I can’t do it.”
Dick walked back close enough to say, “The other Bruce would have done the same thing. Hook Kelex up and have him negotiate with the onboard computer.”
“And something went wrong,” Bruce concluded. “I have to avoid that misstep and figure out what actually happened.”
Jason walked back close to his father and said, “You can take any plane and use it for civilian purposes. But it’s core programing is always going to be military.”
“And,” Bruce said pointing behind him. “It knows who Clark is. He was its last passenger. My guess is that it had to be programmed to take care of him. When the other Bruce disturbed the controls-
“Oh,” Tim said immediately brightening up. “It’s like in Back to the Future Two!”
Dick instantly said, “Loser!”
Damian quietly said, “No. Please, just no.”
Jason shook his head and said, “Shit, man!”
Tim quickly insisted that, “The Delorean is struck by lightening and Doc gets sent back to 1885! The only difference, Clark got pushed into a dimensional rift.” He then logical concluded, “We’re probably like the next dimension over from his, that’s why everything is almost identical.”
Dick shook his head saying, “It constantly shocks me that nothing actually happens in your life that you can’t translate in terms of some sci-fi flick.”
“It’s a gift! And, it makes sense!” Happily, Tim smiled and insisted, “It explains everything!”
Bruce blew out a long stream of air. “At the risk of having to endure another movie marathon, I…”
Bruce closed his eyes and steeled himself. When he’d found the courage, Bruce finally said, “I’m going to agree with Tim’s assessment.”
Tim jumped up with his arms in the air. He began whooping and hollering as he began running around the concrete dais.
Dick didn’t hesitate to fall down on to the ground as if his legs had been swept from under him. His butt hit the concrete. He turned to look at his father and hissed, “Do you know what you’ve done?”
Hesitantly, Bruce direly said, “Yes, son. I do.”
Clark lifted his face so that his chin was sitting on Bruce’s shoulder. “It’s going to be a Back To The Future kind of night.”
Bruce turned towards Clark and helpfully said, “Maybe there will be an invasion. Wouldn’t that be nice?”
Clark didn’t hesitate to respond, “If he says one word about Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure… There's nothing to learn in those movies, Bruce. I’d rather just leave the planet forever than have to sit through that again.”
Clark suddenly tensed.
“Clark!” Bruce called out. “Too tight!”
Clark let go of Bruce.
Then suddenly, Clark moved away. He crawled away quickly a half dozen feet before he began to gag. The gagging quickly turned into violent retching.
The taste of partially digested cheeseburger pie, extra gravy, and bile filled his world.
"Are you sick?" Dick asked as he stepped closer.
"He gets sick?" Tim asked no one in particular.
Bruce stood up from the ground.
Bruce stepped closer and carefully said, "You don’t get sick.”
Clark shook his head.
Then he bent his head down and retched again.
When he was done, Clark sat back on his legs.
He looked down at his stomach.
A moment later, he pulled his shirt up.
“Oh,” Clark said pulling his shirt back down quickly.There was a finality to the one word.
“No,” Bruce said quickly and simply.
He shook his head saying, “No. You can’t…that can’t. And, this isn't...that”
The boys were suddenly there.
They surrounded him.
Dick stepped around the vomit on the ground and said, “Can I see?”
“Yeah,” Jason said a bit shocked.
Clark lifted his shirt.
“Dude!” Dick huffed unsure. “You said that there was a pouch!”
"I don't see a pouch!" Damian cried out in disappointment.
Clark pointed down to the small bruise forming just under his ribs. “That isn’t a bruise. It’s the edge of the pouch starting to form. When it’s completely formed, I’ll lose my powers.”
“When?” Bruce asked already concerned.
Clark shook his head. “I can’t be more than three months or so along. We have a ten-month gestation like humans. Plenty of time.”
Clark stood up slowly.
He turned to Bruce and said, “This is all your fault!”
“Not mine!” Bruce shot back.
Dismissively, Clark said, “Close enough!”
Then Clark turned and walked away

Chapter Text

It was twelve fifteen in the afternoon. He and Alfred were in the kitchen putting the finishing touches on lunch when the
By the time Clark got the call it was too late.
There was nothing to be done.
There no reasoning to be pled.
His easy greeting was followed by his mother saying, "We're at the airport, Clark."
"Airport? Which airport?"
"Gotham City Airport you big silly!"
" Why?"
Martha didn't hesitate to reply, "Because my son is missing!"
"What? Oh," he gasped already standing that much more straight. "I'll be right there!"
"No. No. We just need an address. I brought brownies and I made Grandmother Kent' blue ribbon chocolate chip cookies for the boys. Your father is already getting us a cab."
"Ma," Clark said already not enjoying the turn of the conversation.
Sternly, Martha replied, "We love you. We will always love you, but I want my son back. Give me the address?"
The last words were not phrased gently.
There weren't any options.
Clark rattled off the address and told them to be careful.
Clark hung up and found Alfred watching him.
Clark smiled a bit and said, "I have to go apologize to Bruce now. We are going to have guests. And, my Ma will probably take over the kitchen. The last time she visited, it felt like you were both engaged in some kind of weird cook off trying to out do each other." As if needing to explain, he added, "You both just like feeding the boys. And...you seem to compete."
"I see," Alfred responded without further comment.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Grandmother Kent's blue ribbon chocolate chip cookies were a big hit. Everyone had a few.
Just like in his world, the boys immediately loved having a doting grandma to love them.
Clark got to watch his mother blossom as she became grandma for the first time...again. She relished in becoming grandma. She doted on the boys from the moment she walked in the front door. After she handed out baked goods, she announced that she'd be making dinner.
And then, she disappeared into the kitchen.
His father happily settled into hanging out with the 'children.' He told d "Clark" stories and sat with the boys. These stories revolved around Clark's youth. Mostly about him being a baby and doing very 'Clark' things like running through walls. The time he almost burnt down the barn. And who could forget when he was three and pulled the bathroom sink off the wall one morning. And, the resulting shenanigans.
It was completely humiliating.
It was completely wonderful.
Clark could only remember the good times with is Pa. But being able to create new memories with his Pa was a privilege that could never have anticipated. It was a gift. And, he wasn't sure if he was deserving.
Because Clark had tried to prepare Alfred, it felt as if Alfred was being the perfect English host by ceding certain duties to Ma Kent.
He didn't argue.
He didn't fight.
Instead, Alfred quietly moved around in he background. Stirring pots. Performing the sous chef duties of finding ingredients and pre-chopping the basics like onions, garlic, and celery. He even peeled potatoes. And, prepped the salad.
When dinner was ready the kitchen island was loaded down with a full of roast beef, mashed potatoes, brown gravy, and coleslaw. She even baked a blueberry pie for dessert.
To drink there was iced tea, and pot of hot spiced cider was ready to share after dinner. She had remembered to bake kolaches before they got on the plane. And Clark could smell that the little yeast buns were stuffed with cheese, apricots, and cherries.
"There are bierock's," Martha called out as she walked a large platter of to it's final place on the island.
"What's a bierock?" Tim asked confused. "Those just look like buns."
"They're German pastries," Clark explained. "You love them. They're stuffed mostly with meat and cabbage. And they smell great."
Tim looked right at him and said, "Well, if I like them."
"You do," Clark confirmed as he watched Tim put two on his plate as he grabbed a third to directly shove into his mouth.
Clark watched amused as he smiled and grabbed a fourth.
The boys ran through the line of food like hungry locusts once they realized that Grandma Martha was a hell of cook.
Clark filled up one plate with hot food. A second plate had a selection of bierocks and kolaches. He put them on a tray with a large glass of iced tea, and a large mug of spiced cider. The blueberry pie he placed separately.
"Are you peckish? Is that enough?" Martha asked sarcastically.
"It's for Bruce. He's working," Clark explained. "He won't come up until he's done."
"This is a family meal. He should have at least sat at the table with his boys. He's their father," Martha complained.
"Perfectionists, rarely go easy on themselves," Clark retorted as he walked away with he large tray of food and drink.
After Clark left, Alfred picked up a plate and quietly said, "He's right. Master Bruce won't stop until the task is done and he is 100% percent certain that he can solve this situation."
She fell quiet. After a few long moments, she asked, "You act more like his father than servant. Is Master Bruce a term of endearment or something else?"
Alfred smiled only a little saying, "Habit mostly."
She watched him for a long moment. Studied his movements. It didn't take long for her to say, "You remind me of my uncle."
He looked over at her unsure of the comment.
"He was a soldier too," she simply but sure that she was correct in her assumption.
Alfred didn't respond. For a moment, he seemed not to know what to do but then went back quietly serving his plate.
Martha walked over to the last dish at the end of the island. She picked it up and considered the dish in her hand as she said, "I think that I understand this house now. Why Bruce is the way he is. I can see why the other Bruce and the other Martha butt heads."
Alfred placed a bierock on his plate as he said, "You're both far too similar."
This time it was Alfred who looked through her with a sharp glance. Without hesitation he asked, "I wonder, Mrs. Kent, what kind of mission encompassed your life?"
When she didn't answer or react to his question, he added, "I can see it in your eyes woman. I've see that same look in old soldiers. You know the hunt."
She thought carefully before she vaguely answered, "My uncle Clark used to say, time on our side. Nothing is urgent.”
She simply watched her still holding his plate.
Wistfully, she sighed as she rubbed her forehead. Almost as if she were talking to herself, she said, "The longer I walk this earth the more that I find myself missing him. My mother used to say that he could fly, you know. I find it ironic that I named Clark after him."
She smiled happily. "I always attributed his gift to our Comanche heritage. He was a real warrior."
Alfred scarcely breathed. Finally, he carefully asked, "His surname was...Clark?"
Her smile slowly lost it's shine. It no longer reached her eyes. She nodded and said, "Native Americans didn't have a choice in the names that they were given by the American government once they surrendered and placed on reservations."
Carefully, Alfred asked, "John Clark. Sergeant John Clark."
She didn't answer. She didn't have too. He could see her eyes.
Alfred set his plate down. "Vietnam. He had his pinkie finger shot off on right hand and a scar on the left side of his face. "
Alfred showed her his face and drew the very familiar scar across his own face.
Still, she said nothing.
Her eyes said more than she would ever.
Alfred didn't hesitate to walk away towards his rooms beyond the kitchen.
She didn't move.
Martha could only stare at the doorway that the quiet Englishman had walked through.
She waited exactly two seconds before she reached over to the magnetic strip on the wall. She picked out a sharp boning knife and casually held it behind her back.
She waited.
The Englishman returned with a wooden box.
He set it down on the countertop and opened it quickly. The box was crowded with items: smaller boxes, uniform pieces, and small weapons. In a corner of the box, he reached for an old envelop. It was yellowed with age, and slightly torn. It was stuffed with pictures.
He quickly flipped through the pictures until he stopped suddenly. He stared at the picture. Slowly, he picked it out the stack and handed it to her.
Martha moved the knife to her other hand and reached for the offered picture.
She considered the situation before taking her eyes off him and looking down at the image in her hand.
That was when her breath caught in her throat.
She stared at the old black and white picture for several long seconds as she tried to make sense of it. Her uncle John Clark was standing in a small clearing smiling with a young man. The youngster was thinner, and very white compared to her uncle.
Finally, she said, "It's my uncle. That's John Clark. How?"
He didn't hesitate to respond, "If you would do me the courtesy of putting the knife away. I will explain...what I can."
She had to think for a moment, but she did put the knife down the counter.
Carefully, he said, "The older I get the more I know that history is just a bunch of lies. Stories told to appease children."
He flipped through a few more pictures and found another picture to share. He smiled at the picture happily and offered it to her saying, "Technically, neither the United States nor Great Britain were in Laos during that war."
It was a group picture. She easily found John Clark and the skinny, white boy in the mix of raggedy-looking men.
"Most of it is still covered under secrecy and lies. We operated together with...other fellows. I was a cherry...new, all paperwork and no grit."
Alfred went through the stack again. "One day, we were somewhere unpleasant, doing something not quite good. One of the boys stepped on a bouncing betty, an anti-personnel mine. Sarge moved very fast. I fell into a ditch. When I'd crawled out, four men were down, including Sergeant Clark."
Alfred found the picture.
He stared at it with intent. The memories evident on his face.
Then, he offered her the picture saying, "He saved my life that day. It wasn't the first time. He was a good man. A good solider...an excellent warrior."
She looked at the picture and felt the tears gather in her eyes.
This picture was of John Clark sitting back in a bed. He was staring off with a look on face that was very familiar. She'd seen that look a lot growing up. He had bloody bandages on his face. There was bruising. He looked tired.
She looked at all three pictures in her hands. They weren't large pictures. But, they were the most precious things she could imagine.
She shook her head saying, "You just gave me information and a glimpse into someone that I truly loved."
She felt the tear slide down her face as she said, "Thank you."
He took the pictures saying, "I will make sure that you get copies, Mrs. Kent."
She wiped her face leaned back against the kitchen counter.
Alfred carefully put the pictures back into the envelope. He closed the box and carefully picked it up.
She stared off.
As he began to walked away she quietly said, "Alfred, wait."
He stopped walking immediately and turned towards her.
She looked at him.
She really looked.
It didn't take long to make a decision.
She said, "Alfred, I don't think we should spend time together."
He studied her for long moment before he nodded his head slightly and said, "I believe that would be for the best...Mrs. Kent."
He took a step forwards. Stopped. Then, he turned towards her, "I think I'm going to read in my room. I'm suddenly not very hungry."
He walked away without another wood.
Martha continued to stand in the kitchen.
Alone.
She could hear Jonathan and the boys in the dining room. They were carrying on and talking loudly despite the fact that they were eating.
She changed her mind about dinner too.
Suddenly, she wasn't in the mood for food.
Instead, she picked up a sponge and started washing dishes.

Chapter Text

Bruce typed for a while longer.
Finally, he said, “Okay. I think I’m close.”
“This is mostly guess work,” he said as he moved to the homemade device.
Bruce had literally thrown it together overnight. It was a compilation of wires, circuits, and cannibalized parts from other devices. He’d secured everything to a piece of ply-wood which he screwed down to table. The wires snaked their way into the shuttle and disappeared below the flight controls. The control panel had been taken apart so he could directly access every part.
“Let’s see if the unevolved earth chimp got it right.” Bruce turned a dial. He flipped a few switches and went back to the computer. He typed a few lines of code and then finally hit enter.
He stood back and said, “Your universe should be in this cluster. If I’m right, then we should see something right about there.”
He pointed at a section of wall inside the ship.
Clark looked through the entrance of the shuttle. Opposite was a semi-dull section of the wall.
The dullness of the metal changed quickly. Its surface changed slowly from a dull surface to a shiny one. Then it became watery like the clear surface of reflective water.
That clear surface slowly morphed into a picture. The picture was on its side. The picture was one of destruction. The world on the other side was full of darkness. Charred remains that might have once been trees could be seen in the background. The sky was dark, but it was clear that it was daytime. In the beyond two cyclones swirled in the sky swallowing the grey and black clouds. Lightening cut across the sky lighting up a desolate landscape of nothing.
As serious as he’d ever been, Bruce said, “That looks like nuclear winter.”
“That’s not home,” Clark huffed out.
“Moving on,” Bruce said as he reached for the dial and gently moved it.
The picture changed.
This time Clark saw his husband on the other side of the mirror. There was a Clark standing next to him.
“Bruce!” Clark called as he stepped away and moved closer to the shuttle.
The Bruce on his side of the mirror reached out to him the moment Clark took one step towards the mirror.
The Bruce next to him didn’t hesitate to grab his arm and say, “You need to be absolutely sure. That is a one-way trip, Clark.”
His father didn’t hesitate to say, “He’s right, son. You need to be cautious.”
Clark closed his eyes and nodded.
Hesitantly, Bruce said, "Clark's hair looks a bit shaggy."
Clark moved closer to the shuttle until he was in the doorway.
“Close enough,” Bruce said as he stepped back towards his controls.
Clark smiled and held up his ring to the Bruce in the mirror.
The Bruce in the mirror frowned and held up his hand. The ring on that Bruce had a bright red stone on it.
Clark shook his head and so did the Bruce in the mirror.
Clark turned, “Next world, please.”
Bruce adjusted the dial carefully.
The picture changed again.
This time there wasn’t just a Bruce and a Clark. His mother was standing nearby holding a baby in her arms.
“Better,” Clark said as he held up his ring.
The Bruce in the mirror smiled and held up the same black stoned ring.
The Clark in the mirror was studying his side too.
Clark turned his attention to his mother. She wore her hair down which was a bit odd. That was when he noticed that the baby in her arms was wrapped in a pink blanket.
Clark rocked his arms and then pointed to the baby.
The Martha in the mirror didn’t hesitate to turn the baby and show him the little girl in his arms. She even had a little pink bow in her hair.
Clark shook his head and so did his counterpart in the mirror.
“Close. But we have a son, not a daughter.”
“Next,” Bruce said as he again adjusted the dial ever so slightly.
Again, the picture changed.
This time Bruce saw his family on the other side. Bruce, his mother, the baby, Alfred, and all the boys. The Clark on the other side was already looking in.
What instantly caught his eye was that not only was Dick’s arm was missing. Damian was wearing an eye patch. His face was scarred so that they went up into his hairline as if something had scratched down his face. Tim was sitting in a chair and holding a cane in his hand. His back looked...crooked.
“No,” Clark said shaking his head.
Clark didn’t hesitate to hold his hands up indicating to them to wait.
He did the motion again.
Wait!
Clark turned to Bruce and said, “Where is your back up?”
Bruce quickly asked, “What back up?”
“You always keep a back up on your research. They need the information, Bruce. Look at them!”
Clark moved to stand in front of Bruce and waited.
Bruce was quiet for a long moment. Finally, he reached into one of his pockets. He pulled out a flash drive saying, “You may not be helping that world. We don’t know what’s happening in that place.”
Clark took the flash drive and said, “I will always trust you.”
Clark walked back to the shuttle’s entry. He showed them the flash drive before tossing it at the mirror. It quickly disappeared into that reality with a blink.
Clark turned to Bruce and said, “Next.”
Bruce again adjusted the dial.
The picture changed again.
Again, Clark saw his family on the other side. Bruce, his mother, the baby, Alfred, and all the boys. This time his sons were not broken or damaged in anyway.
The Clark on that side of the mirror was also interested in what he was seeing.
Hopefully, Clark held up his wedding ring.
The Bruce in the mirror smiled and held up his ring.
They both looked identical.
Clark made a rocking motion with his arms and pointed at the baby again.
The Martha in the mirror turned the baby in his arms and held him up.
The Bruce in the mirror wrote on a small dry-erase board. He turned the board towards Clark. It said, “Jonathan Bruce Wayne-Kent born 4/19.”
Clark instantly smiled.
The Bruce in the mirror turned the board around. He wiped it clean with his hand and wrote something else. When he turned the board, it said, “Cum and Chocolate!”
Clark laughed and silently gave thanks.
He turned and looked at his parents. “Ma. Pa. Come look at your grandson.”
Clark pointed and said, “That’s my family. And, if that’s your Clark, he needs to see both of you.”
Martha didn't hesitate to step up. Very quickly she huffed out, "That's my boy! I'd know if it wasn't!"
Martha watched the other side already with tears in her eyes.
Then, just as quickly, she covered her mouth in shock.
She looked at the baby that was not more than fifteen feet away, but also incalculably far.
She turned and gushed out, "Jonathan looks exactly like you did! Exact same eyes! Those fat little legs! Oh!"
His Pa walked over and looked through the portal.
Jonathan reached for his son’s shoulder and gave him a squeeze saying, “You did good son. That is a beautiful little boy.”
He turned to his wife saying, "The exact fat, little legs. Even the dimples on his knees."
"Exact," Marth agreed.
“I get to go back to my life, Pa.” Clark turned to his father and said, “But you won’t be there. You won’t see our other children.”
Clark had to swallow the lump in his throat. “I miss you every day, Pa.”
Jonathan reached up and stroked his son’s hair back affectionately. It was the same way that he’d brushed his hair back when Clark had been little.
Clark couldn’t help the tears that fell down his face.
He wanted to memorize everything about him. The feel of his hand. The smell of his skin. The sound of his voice.
“When you get back, you tell your Ma that I’m always with her.” Jonathan turned to look at the woman standing next to him. He smiled and looked at Clark.
Easily, Jonathan said, “I’ve been head over heels in love with this lady since I can remember. It wouldn't feel natural for us to be apart. In the meantime, she's still a young woman. I want her to live her life to the fullest. We'll see each other again.”
"I'll tell her, Pa."
Clark turned to the family that wasn’t his and said, “Thank you for letting me stay. Thank you for helping me. It doesn’t matter what reality we’re in, you’re all just good people. I need to go home now.”
Clark began to turn his body towards the ship, when Martha quickly said, "Clark.
He turned to his Ma.
She was watched the people on the other side.
"I can't imagine what your mother's been through," she said simply. She looked at the Clark in front of her and said, "I think she's holding on tight. That's why she and Bruce are sometimes butting heads. I know that you're a good and patient man. Just..."
She closed her eyes and shook her head. "Do your best to be understanding. You're mother isn't perfect. I know she loves you...so much."
Clark didn't hesitate to kiss his mother and pull her in for a hug.
He even reached out and hugged his father one last time.
Both.
The two people that raised him. Loved him. Made him the man he was.
After a moment, he pulled away because he knew that he otherwise might not.
Clark turned away and stepped into the ship.
The other Clark on the other side was already waiting for him.
The two Supermen walked up to the mirror and looked at each other.
Clark walked up and held his hand up. The other Clark did the same.
They each held up three fingers.
In unison they mouthed, 'Three.'
The dropped on finger.
They mouthed, 'Two.'
Then they touched the mirror.
Nothing happened.
"Bruce," Clark said quickly. "I think we have a problem!"
Clark turned back to the people behind him. He instantly noticed that his father was gone. His eyes quickly sought out Dick and he saw that he had both of this arms. His mother was holding Jonathan.
"Clark!" Martha said happily.
Clark turned back to the mirror and noticed the other Clark was back home. His father was just a reflection in the mirror.
Sadly, Clark turned away.
"Clark," Bruce said stepping closer.
"It's okay," Clark said softly. "I'm home, Bruce. For a moment, I wasn't sure."
Clark took the two steps to the door and stepped down.
His mother was watching him with big, wet eyes.
Clark quickly said, "He's still the same, Ma. Same smell. The same sound of his voice. A little older, but the same."
Bruce took Jonathan from Martha's arms. She let the baby go so she could put her arms around her son.
"He gave me a message for you, Ma."
Clark purposefully pulled away from her so he could move her closer to ship's opening. Jonathan was still standing by the doorway in full view of the mirror.
"You're still young and you need to live."
The older Jonathan on the other side slowly blew a kiss at her.
"He'll see you again, but not for a long, long time."
He looked sad but managed a smile.
"He's always with you."
The tears flowed down her face in a way that she couldn't control.
Her first words were to Bruce. "Shut this thing down."
Her voice was firm, and serious.
"Martha," Bruce said seriously. "Are you sure-
"It's dangerous," she said like a general. "A threat."
Bruce didn't argue.
He it didn't take much to turn off the system that he'd created. He pulled cords out and flipped switches.
The image froze like a picture, and then it slowly began to fade.
She stared at the wall until it was just dull metal again.
"Ma," Clark said gently.
"I'm fine, baby. It was just nice to see him again." She patted his hand saying, "You're family has missed you. Go spend time with your husband, he's been a real ass lately."
Clark kissed her temple. Still pressing her lips to her skin, he whispered, "Thank you for holding it all together while I was gone."
"That's what mommas do," she said simply.
Martha turned away and slowly began walking behind everyone.
The small elevator was a bottleneck of activity. Bruce, Clark, and baby Jonathan went up first.
The boys wanted to be polite and let their elders go first.
Alfred and Martha waved them off reminding the children that the food was getting cold.
The boys didn't need much more coaxing then that. They went up taking their noise with them.
Martha wiped at her face as Alfred asked, "Are you alright?"
"Yes," she said managing a smile. "I never imagined that I'd see him again in this lifetime."
They both fell silent.
Finally, Alfred said, "If you need time-
"Clark's wearing his power dampener. I'll come to your room after the boys have gone to bed."
His smile mirrored hers.
Without hesitation, he said, "I'll do my best to put a smile on your face."
"I expect one, Alfred."

Chapter Text

Bruce, Clark, and Alfred stayed behind as their Clark's family moved towards the elevator.
There was a long silence.
Finally, Bruce turned to look at his Superman. He didn’t hesitate to say, “You should stay for dinner.”
The man turned and said, “Alfred was making Fettuccini Alfredo. Ma was made a giant vat of chicken and dumplings. Bee Sting Cake. Apple Strudel. Alfred even made a bread and butter pudding. Honestly, I wasn’t sure if I was going to come back. The house just smelled good.”
“Easily fixed, Master Clark. I was considering making it for dinner with sliced steak. I should go and see I have enough cloves for the garlic bread.”
Alfred quickly left.
Clark looked at Alfred’s retreating form and smiled. “He’s just as wonderful here as he was there.”
“I need to ask a favor,” Bruce said. “We need to ask if we can borrow Kelex for a while longer because Dick isn't fully healed. The other guy flew him over. Technically, this Kelex wasn’t his to lend.”
Clark opened his mouth to answer.
Before he could make a sound, Bruce said, “I also have your shuttle.”
Clark looked away and thought it through. Finally, he said, “The other Bruce told me that he had access to Kryptonian technology. He let me read his notes. I was impressed with how much he understood.”
Damian walked over and said, “Clark, can I keep Kelex for a while?”
“I guess-
“Good,” Damian said quickly. “I’m going to take a nap until dinner is ready.”
Damian walked away from them. The took Kelex by one of his long fingers and led him away.
Bruce tilted his head towards Damian and Kelex. “Damian’s grown kind of fond of the robot. Like a pet.”
Dick nudged his brothers and they moved away without a word.
Once they were alone, Clark shyly pulled something out of his pants pocket. He handed it to Bruce saying, “You need to put this in a refrigerator so that we can discuss it.”
Bruce accepted what was in Clark’s hand without comment.
Clark deposited a vial in Bruce’s hand.
Bruce held it up closer to his eyes. The blood did look normal, except for a slight sheen to it. He inverted the tube a few times and watched very fine bits in the blood that looked almost like glitter swirl and bounce.
“Your blood?” Bruce asked.
Clark shook his head. “This is the other Clark’s blood. It’s contaminated with the pheromone drug. The other Bruce offered it to me saying that he theorizes two things. First, it should do the same thing to me. Making me fall in love and become absolutely dependent on you.”
“If,” Bruce emphasized. “If, the same thing happens in our universe. If our physiologies are the same as theirs."
Clark nodded and added, "If there isn’t anyone more compatible with me in this universe. And, If we want to accept everything that comes with it.”
“That’s why I said, put it in the fridge. Otherwise, the blood will be useless in about twenty minutes. At that point, there is no decision.”
Bruce simply looked at the vial.
When the man didn’t move, Clark glumly said, “If you don’t want to do this at all, just smash it and the conversation doesn’t even have to take place.”
Bruce met Clarks solemn face.
After a moment, Bruce reached into his pocket.
In Clark’s hand he deposited a pouch.
Clark didn't have to open it, he felt it before he ever saw it.
Bruce didn't hesitate to say, "The pouch is lead lined. I didn't want to overwhelm the other Clark."
Clark opened the pouch and found a power dampener inside. Instead of the necklace that the other Clark wore, his Bruce had created a bracelet.
Bruce turned and walked the vial of blood to the small refrigerator that he kept for biological samples.
“The other Clark wore his on a collar," Bruce said as he put the blood away.
He noticed that it was already labeled. He memorized the code on it and placed it somewhere safe. “I figured that the bracelet would be faster for removal, if anything ever happened.”
He didn’t normally lock the refrigerator but this time he set the electronic lock. “You should wear it. Alfred took everything that you said as a personal challenge.”
Clark smiled. “I accept your invitation to dinner. I don’t mind telling you that being there was very strange at first. I woke up in my apartment, but someone else was living there. The lady freaked and I almost got arrested.”
“Did you fly away?” he asked seriously.
“The moment her back was turned. I simply didn’t have an explanation. Then, Bruce found me and was so...open, and emotional. He’d been very worried about his husband.”
Bruce shrugged. “Clark was nice. Loving. Thoughtful. He jumped right into our family. He knew us and cared. He was right about one thing, he made everything...easier.”
“I noticed that. The others just expected me to fill that gap. It wasn’t even that hard to do.”
"Want a drink?" Bruce asked.
"I don't drink alcohol. And, neither do you."
Bruce smiled, "I actually meant a spritzer. Alfred got these mocktails that you mix with seltzer water. It's supposed to be full of probiotics and fruit. I haven't had the time to actually sit and even try it.
"That sounds nice. I don't think that we've had much in the way of purely social interactions."
"What were they like?" Bruce asked as he led the way towards the elevator.
"That family. I could see how much they all love each other. They were broken without him. Lots of trust. They gave me a lot of hope." Casually, Clark added, "I never really imagined that I could mate with a human." Clark blushes and hold up the bracelet. "He actually gave me his research on a flash drive so I could make a power dampener. He wanted me to have a real relationship when I felt ready."
After a few steps, Clark asked, "How was your encounter with the other me?"
"You sure, you want to know?" Bruce asked seriously. Without waiting for a response, he said, "He won everyone in my life over. And he made me feel really sad inside. It was like seeing a life I'll never have."
"Why?" Clark asked just as seriously.
"Because," Bruce replied far too honestly. "My personal bullshit contaminates everything. Happiness has never been something that I've even considered."
"They're happy," Clark countered easily.
"I know. But I don't see how they even got there."
They stood by the elevator and listened to it come down to them.
Clark only had to think for a few minutes. Finally, he turned to Bruce and said, "I'm willing to consider the possibility."
The corner of Bruce's lip turned up a bit. "Are you saying that you want to date me?"
"And your personal bullshit," Clark declared. "But I see the wisdom in first having a family dinner... and a fake-hippie cocktail."
"That is generous," Bruce replied. A moment later, he said, "Navigating blended family drama can be highly dangerous and it was a functional mocktail. It's supposed to be good for you."
Clark laughed a little.
Bruce shook his head saying, "Okay, I heard it the moment the words were out of my mouth. It is a hippie cocktail."
"With ice please. Maybe a twist of lemon," Clark replied.
Bruce managed a small smile.
It was real and relaxed.
Without reservations, they stepped into the elevator content to just take the ride up.

The end.