Chapter Text
Kon had always thought that Gotham would bite Tim in the ass before him, honestly. He should have known better.
That haunted city hates midwestern manners.
Flying over Gotham was an experience unlike any other—and not necessarily in a good way. It felt like the whole city was holding it’s breath, the way someone does in the middle of water torture. Taking in a big, desperate gulp of air right before your head is forced under the surface again. It was always tense and waiting for the next source of misery.
Today wasn’t any different, really. Kon did his best to see his fiance at least once a week. They were still apartment hunting, but he didn’t mind the short flight back and forth. It wasn’t like he didn’t spend the night at Tim’s half the time already. It was just easier to stay in Smallville or Metropolis on occasion because of work and his family.
He was nearing the apartment when a sniffle pierced through the windshear. Freezing midair, Kon did his best to pinpoint who it came from. Sounds that minor never made it through his flying mindset unless they came from someone he cared for, someone whose symphony he’d memorized. The sniffle sounded again, followed by a quiet little hiccup, and he couldn’t wait any longer.
Kon shot towards the noise. It was coming from an alley a few streets away from the apartment, not a bad area but not necessarily good either. He landed with barely a sound.
The alley was dim, but there was enough light coming from the setting sun that Kon was able to make out the shape of a small child by a fire escape. Something in his chest lurched harshly at the sound of sobs stifled with tiny hands.
He crouched, trying to make himself seem smaller than he was, and shifted his foot just enough to make a quiet sound. The kid’s head shot up, eyes darting to Kon’s.
His heart shattered. Big, wet blue eyes peered at him with blatant terror. Tears tracked down ruddy cheeks with prominent freckles spread across them. He was so small. The shirt he was wearing was at least two sizes too big, almost hiding the shorts the kid was wearing completely. He was only wearing one shoe—Kon could spot three used needles by the back wall, and his breath stuttered. Black hair fell in a messy shag across his face.
The second a tiny whimper escaped the boy, Kon held out his palms. “Hey, kiddo, are you alright? Do you need help?”
The kid shuffled back but his eyes never left Kon’s. Hesitation flashed across his face, but his gaze flicked down to the Superboy logo quickly.
Kon smiled with what he hoped was a comforting expression. “Do you like heroes? My name is Superboy, and I was on my way to hang out with Red Robin when I decided to look around a bit.”
He hoped he was making the boy more comfortable. Kon worked with scared kids pretty often as Superboy, but something about this kid was hitting him right in his soul. The coloring reminded him of Tim and himself, which definitely wasn’t helping, but his heart was screaming at him that this was so much more important than anything he had ever done as a hero.
“H-hero?” the boy whispered, voice so sweet and so scared. Kon schooled his expression before he scared him.
“Yeah, bubs, I’m a hero. And you wanna hear a secret?” he smiled slyly, leaning a bit closer.
The kid’s eyes widened as he leaned forward excitedly, a bit of that past fear leaving at the promise of hero secrets. Kon’s smile grew as fondness filled him.
He cupped his hand around his mouth as he stage whispered, “I’m half Kryptonian, and they’re from a planet super far away. That means I’m part alien.”
The boy’s eyes shined brighter than anything Kon had ever seen as he gaped at the knowledge of his biology. The alien comment was a hit with kids most of the time—especially nervous ones—but this little one took it a step farther. Kon blinked as his freckles, which had looked completely normal a moment ago, started blinking and glowing a vibrant bluish purple. Like stars, he thought with awe. Blue eyes started to shine an ethereal navy, shooting stars and imploding nebulas streaking across his irises.
“Space? Be’n to space?” He gasped in pure wonder. Kon watched with a similar feeling as the baby’s hair started to streak a vibrant white.
For some reason, Kon began to think of Clark. Their relationship had come leaps and bounds from what it was in the beginning, but it was still hard to think of the man as a dad when those feelings of rejection were still so close to the surface. But then Kon would remember the conversation they had after hashing out all of the issues, when Bruce and Tim had locked them in an indestructible room and forced them to talk one day after growing exhausted of the avoidance.
After hours of revelations and actual, constructive conversation, Clark said the one thing that stuck with him even now.
“Parents always talk about how when they hold their baby for the first time, it feels like the whole world flips on its head. Nothing and no one matters as much as their child. It took me way, way too long to realize that I struggled so hard with you because you did exactly that, but without any forewarning. Parents usually have an entire pregnancy to prepare, or hell, at least a childhood. Then I saw you for the first time and suddenly my world was flipped on its head and nothing mattered more—but I took those signals and made them into something malicious. I became a parent but I thought I gained an enemy.”
Kon had understood his point. That didn’t mean he thought parents weren’t exaggerating. Yes, loving your child was probably an incredible sensation, but to change your life that quickly? Now, though, looking at this tiny boy with starry eyes, who stared at him with a face full of amazement and what seemed like trust…Kon felt something fundamental to his being shift.
He made his decision in that split second. This adorable, tiny meta child was his.
And Tim’s, but finders keepers.
He smiled gently, knowing that his eyes were all gooey and fond. “Yeah, bubs, I’ve been to space. It's amazing out there, but I think I like your rendition better. You make stars so much cuter than they are out there! The real thing is way too hot, I think,” Kon grinned goofily, taking a risk and ruffling the kid’s hair.
A shaky giggle sounded. Kon felt like he was gonna implode. “m’ not cute!” the boy laughed, shying away from the hand. “m’ Danny.”
Kon narrowed his eyes playfully, practically vibrating from finding out his kid’s name. Danny. “Hmmm,” he hummed, pretending to inspect Danny. “Let’s compromise. You can be both. I think you’re the cutest, and your name is Danny. Deal?”
Danny covered his laughing mouth with one hand and reached out to shake Kon’s with the other. The movement pulled his kid more into the light, and Kon hoped his inhale wasn’t as loud as it seemed. There was blood on his shirt. So much that it coated the fabric and practically glued it to his skin. Small scrapes were scattered across his arms and legs, but Kon could only focus on the amount of red, red blood coating his kid.
Danny seemed to follow his stuck gaze, shrinking back a bit from the stare. “I don’ wanna go back, please.”
And he sounded so sad. So convinced that Kon wouldn’t listen, that he would send Danny back to a place that made him bleed. To a place that made his stars dim and his skin dull. Kon didn’t hesitate.
“Look at me, bubs,” he whispered calmly, waiting until Danny was looking up and cupping his tiny face in his hands. He didn’t move away. “I will never send you to a place that hurts you, or makes you sad and uncomfortable. Never. Do you want to come with me instead? Red Robin has a lot of cool stuff at his house, and I’m pretty sure there’s a moon rock there that I gave him.” Kon grinned small when Danny began to glow. “We’re both heroes. We’ll keep you safe. Does that sound like a plan?”
Danny stared at his face, gaze zipping around and searching for lies. Kon let him. His focus was on how small Danny’s face was compared to his hands, the warmth of his star-dusted cheeks against his palms. He met the boy’s eyes once more when the glow grew stronger.
Danny tucked his face into Kon’s hands, shifting closer. “Wan’a go with you, please.”
Kon beamed.
Tim was sitting on the couch with his laptop when his work phone buzzed. He groaned before picking it up.
Kon had sent him a message using the morse code tech built into their comms. It allowed them to tap out a message on the in-ear device and send it to a team mate without speaking, a perfect trick for stealth missions. What made him raise an eyebrow was that Kon had sent him a stealth message while on the way to date night, and the message told him to suit up but stay put. Neither of those things screamed “peaceful night in with my fiance” to Tim, but he knew better than to not listen when something insane was probably happening.
He was fully suited up a minute later, leaning against the couch near the balcony doors, Kon’s preferred landing place. Tim had early on created a device that made people want to look away from their balcony constantly—extremely intense heat wave mimicry and some uncanny valley style alien technology he stole from Bruce was very effective—so Kon can fly over whenever and no one will know exactly where he stops. It only took a few more moments for him to spot his partner.
Tim strode forward to unlock and open the doors, so focused on letting Kon in and finding out the situation that he failed to notice the extra passenger—until said passenger sneezed.
Tim’s head shot up at the kitten-like noise. His wide eyes first met the guilty but pleading eyes of his fiance, then he saw the kid.
Oh, fuck, Jason was gonna win the bet.
There was a little boy, maybe four years old, tucked into Kon’s jacket. He was snuggled deeply into his partner’s chest with only his eyes and hair peeking out from above the leather, his neck twisted to peer out at Tim. Deep blue eyes and scrunched up dark brows, dark hair ruffled into an adorable mess from the wind. Tim could see the pattern of freckles on the boy’s face as his nose scrunched up in another quiet sneeze.
The family had created a betting pool forever ago to make wagers on which BatKid would adopt a stray first. Most had bet on Dick for obvious reasons, but Tim and Cass had placed their money on Damian. The teen had a veritable zoo at the manor, the next logical step was children. Jason, though, had confused the masses when he placed a huge sum of money on Tim. All he had said at the looks of befuddlement was, “I have my reasons.”
He owed Jason so much money, because this kid was his.
Kon must have realized what the look on his face meant because his shoulders slumped minutely. He peered down at the baby in his arms who immediately looked up at him, and Kon’s face melted. The way his fiance was looking at this kid was all the proof Tim needed that he was marrying the right person—not that he didn’t know that already.
“Hey, bubs, this is Red Robin,” he spoke quietly to the boy. “He’s gonna help us out a little. And he’s gonna show us his super cool moon rock, like I promised.”
Kon looked back up at Tim quickly as he pulled back his jacket and unveiled the kid for the first time. Tim wasn’t entirely sure what the look meant until he caught sight of the most precious toddler he’d ever seen—and the big red stain on his torso.
“Red, this is Danny.”