Chapter Text
Life was good. There were battles and parties and meetings and funerals and 'hey you aren't dead after all!' celebrations. New friends were made, and old friends turned out to be enemies, and then friends again, and then enemies, and then maybe they were mind-controlled for a bit, or actually it was all a deep undercover investigation in the first place. Relics were found and restored and destroyed and repatriated.
And that was just the next two months.
"Ithoughtyoursuitwasmoredurablethanthat," Flash said, at the end of another battle, one which left Superman's suit torn into shreds and hanging off his unmarred body.
Superman rubbed one of the slippery pieces between his fingers. "So did I," he said. "I'll have to go change."
Green Lantern snorted from where he was leaning on a wall he'd just created, very unsubtly ogling Superman. "Don't rush on my account," he said, with the faintest hint of a leer, because of course he did.
There was a faint collective intake of breath and everyone turned to look at Batman.
“What?” Batman snapped, wiping gore off his cheek.
“They think you are going to fly into a possessive jealous rage,” Superman stage-whispered.
Batman snorted, focusing on cataloguing which tools were left in his belt. “I would never be so obvious. Even if I thought Hal Jordan was a threat.” He made Hal’s name sound like an insult.
“Threat to wh—?” Hal sputtered, defensive but confused until something about the situation clicked in his head. “You two are dating ?!?!” His green wall vanished and he stumbled, eyes darting between Batman and Superman as he processed this information.
“There must not have been much Earth-News on the Water Moons of Chesouphut,” J’onn said mildly.
“Batman and Superman are dating and it's in the news ?” Hal asked.
Flash shook his head. "Their civilian identities.” He quoted some headlines, “Brucie Wayne's Secret Boyfriend! Has Mild-Mannered Reporter Clark Kent Managed to Tame Gotham Playboy Bruce Wayne? Five Things You Don't Know About the Clucie Relationship, andstillwishedyoudidn't," he ended on a mutter.
"No one made you read it," Superman pointed out.
"Actually, I was wondering--" Green Arrow began, leaping off a piece of rubble and into their conversation.
"No," Batman growled, interrupting him.
"They, ah, used Dick as their source," Superman explained. "On a day he was pissed off at B." Not that Bruce's eldest needed the excuse of being angry to make mischief. None of the kids did.
"I'm going to need the link to that article," Green Lantern said to Flash. “And the others. Are there photos?”
"Enough!" Batman said, hands cutting through the air. "Go get changed, Superman. We'll clean up here and see you at the meeting."
“You could go with him.” GL suggested as Superman flew off. “Make sure he’s okay,” he added, though he completely missed the tone of innocence he was trying for.
Superman listened in over the increasing distance for Batman’s reply, which was simply a cool, “You’re the only one who uses chocolate milk as creamer.” Vague-yet-specific enough to be a threat, except that now Hal was forewarned. Which meant he’d spend the next two weeks worrying about his coffee, and Bruce wasn’t really going to do anything to him at all. Clark chuckled fondly to himself as he sped north.
--
"I'll have my men look into it," Commissioner Gordon said, accepting a file folder from Batman without looking at it--he tried to keep eye contact when he had another question to ask, and he didn't want the Batman to vanish before getting to ask it. Sometimes Batman even deigned to stay and hear it. "I've heard Bruce Wayne has finally settled down with that reporter from Metropolis."
"It's only been a few months," Batman growled, remembering the half-accusations Gordon had made back when he and Clark had first met.
"Right," Gordon nodded. "I thought it was fast, too. You've looked into him, then?"
Batman snorted, and let the commissioner interpret it as he would.
“Well I did. And it turns out he’s the guy that’s always writing about your teammate Superman.”
“Hmm,” Batman said, hoping Gordon would get to his point soon.
“It’s just that if Kent learned something about Superman that he’s using as leverage with your...ah...friend Bruce to—“
“No.”
“But—“
“No,” Batman repeated, more forcefully. “Kent is as disgustingly honest as Superman, who, I will add, views him as a friend. Stop investigating this.”
“But Bruce is out of—“
Batman growled. “Kent is worth a hundred Bruces. And you need to leave this alone .”
“Okay, jeeze, you sound like you’re the one in love with the guy.”
“Hm,” Batman growled again, though this time the anger was directed at himself for giving too much away. “Stay out of it.” He added, and then jumped for the shadows, wondering, as he swung home, how often they’d have to start inviting Gordon over for dinner before he finally understood who Clark was.
--
"You two are really serious?" Selena asked a few galas later. She'd been in Rhelasia until that very morning, Bruce knew, because he’d received the reports about the sabertooth skulls that ‘mysteriously’ reappeared at one of their museums.
"Selena, darling!" Brucie said draping himself drunkenly over her--and taking the moment to retrieve all the things she'd stolen so far that night. "I haven't seen you in ages ."
Selena made a face--though she'd been pretending to be drunk most of the evening, too--and shoved him off. Bruce went with the motion and collapsed into Clark, who smiled tolerantly and supported his 'stumbling drunk' boyfriend.
Bruce still mostly hated all the public appearances and parties, but his reputation as Brucie gave him the most wonderful excuses to be all over Clark in public, so sometimes they were tolerable.
"Mm-hmm," Clark agreed with Selena. "He hasn't figured out how to get rid of me yet, anyway."
"Aww, Clarkie," Bruce said, rubbing his cheek on Clark's shoulder. "I haven't even been trying."
Selena had a complicated expression on her face. "I don't know if I should ask for your registry or vomit," she said.
"Selena, please," Bruce said, with a mock-gasp and a flip of his wrist. "You would never do anything so crass as buy something off a registry."
"Well," Selena said to Clark, giving Bruce another dubious look. "I suppose you've kept him longer and better than I ever managed." She gave Clark a little nod and vanished back into the crowd.
“You could tell her,” Clark said. “About me, that is.”
Bruce snorted as he looked over the loot he’d retrieved from Selena. “That would ruin at least half the fun.” It would take him the rest of the evening to figure out how to return this stuff. Oh well, best get started.
--
"Mom! Dad!" Clark said, rushing to hug them even as they struggled out of their winter coats. "How was your flight?"
"It was fine," Martha said, handing her coat to Alfred. "Aside from the delay."
"I offered to fly you," Clark reminded her.
"Oh, it's no trouble," Jonathan said, handing off his own coat. "And we were already at the airport by the time we knew about the snow."
"Besides," Martha said with a mischievous smile. " Someone upgraded our flight to first class."
"I thought it might be easier on your knees, Martha," Bruce said, sweeping into the entrance hall.
“Oh, Bruce,” Martha said, giving him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “It was lovely, but much too easy to get used to.”
“My money has nothing better to do than spoil you,” Bruce said as he and Jonathon clasped arms.
“Speaking of spoiling…?” Martha smiled and looked behind Bruce to where Damian was haughty defending the stairs.
“Martha, Jonathon,” Damian said with a dignified nod when he got close. “It is good to see you both.”
“Such manners!” Martha said, but swept him into a hug anyway.
Damian stiffened, but he also cautiously brought a hand up to pat Martha’s back.
Meanwhile, Dick entered the room at the top of the stairs, yelled, “THE KENTS ARE HERE,” over his shoulder, slid down the railing, and flipped to land right in front of Jonathon. “Grandpa!” He flung his arms around Jonathon, who returned the hug just as enthusiastically.
Jason and Tim followed Dick at a more sedate pace, but before they reached the ground level, Cas appeared behind Martha and tapped her shoulder. “Hi,” she said shyly when Martha turned in surprise.
“You have to stop doing that, dear,” Martha said, though her heart wasn’t racing nearly as fast as it had the first few times Cas had done that.
The whole party drifted into one of the sitting rooms as they continued their greetings.
“Is Conner here?” Martha asked.
He was running a quick errand for Clark, as a matter of fact, but before Clark could explain that, he appeared at the door.
“I’m here!” Conner said, dusting snow off his shoulders. He discreetly handed off the small package to Clark while simultaneously catching Tim, who literally pounced on him the moment he walked in the door. “Hey Tim.”
“So,” Jason said, "If Connor is effectively your son, but he's dating Tim, who is effectively your grandson...who gets the shovel talk?"
Dick smacked him on the back of the head. “It wasn’t funny the last three times you asked, either.”
“But I still don’t have an aaannnswer,” Jason groaned, rubbing the spot Dick had hit.
Bruce cleared his throat from where he was standing by the fireplace. “Now that we are all here, Clark and I have something we wanted to share with you,” he held his hand out as Clark approached, and Clark took it and stood next to him.
Clark took a deep breath. “We’ve been together for a serious amount of time now, and we feel that it’s time to show the world just how serious we are.”
“To that end,” Bruce said, pulling his own small package out of his pocket. “Clark, will you marry me?” He opened the ring box and a quiet diamond glittered inside.
Clark smiled at him, “Only if you will marry me, Bruce,” he replied, pulling out his own ring box, and adding a second quiet glitter to the room.
Martha squealed, Cas gave a delighted squeak, Dick whooped, and Jason said, “so then is Tim and Conner’s relationsh—oof,“ he was cut off when Damian jabbed him—probably with an elbow, since he wasn’t bleeding.
“Congratulations, Father—Fathers,” Damian said very gravely.
“Master Bruce, I—“ Alfred began, but was too choked up to finish. He reached out for a hug, and then it was hugs and back patting and congratulations all around.
—
It was late evening when Clark got the call from Lois.
“There’s something here for you,” she said, sounding annoyed, but with some undertones he couldn’t place.
“Something…there for...me?” Clark said, aware that he sounded like an idiot, but not only had he not ordered anything recently, he had no idea why something would have arrived for him at an address he’d only used for a few months—and that years ago.
“Yes,” Lois said, still annoyed, but then she relented a little. “Maybe it was meant for both of us.”
“What does th—is that a baby ?” There was a faint string of babble from the other end of the line.
“Just—come here,” Lois said. “Now. Please.”
Five minutes later Clark was standing in Lois’ living room, both of them staring at a baby wrapped snugly in a red blanket with the symbol of the house of El on it. The baby stared quietly back at them, blinking its large blue eyes innocently.
“What?” Clark said, stunned and confused.
“There’s a letter,” Lois said, holding out the pristine white page to him. “Says he was sent for us, since we can’t have kids, I guess?”
“But—“ Clark wasn’t even sure where to begin with his questions. “We don’t—we aren’t even—Where—? How—? What—? What?”
Lois shrugged helplessly. “You now know as much as I do. Maybe your child-hoarding fiancé can investigate where your son came from.”
“My son,” Clark repeated absently, then snapped out of his confusion enough to look at her. “Isn’t he our son?”
Lois shook her head. “I have a flight in an hour, Clark, I can’t—I can’t,” she kept shaking her head as she said it.
Now that he was looking, Clark realized he’d never seen Lois so shaken. She was still forcing herself to act cool, and was hiding it under faux irritation, though she was anything but. Which made sense because she was a bit like Bruce in that she could handle anything—so long as she could anticipate and prepare for it.
A baby appearing on her doorstep in a package addressed to her and her ex was not something anyone could reasonably be expected to anticipate.
“Okay,” Clark said. “Okay, we’ll—I’ll take him home, and Bruce and I will figure this out.” He slowly reached out and pulled her into a hug. “I’ll let you know what we learn.”
She didn’t quite relax into his hold like she did in that brief window where they’d been dating, but Clark could hear her heart settling, feel some of the tension leak out of her shoulders.
“Yeah,” she said. “I’d like to—to know.”
They both heaved a sigh of relief, and Clark released her. He picked up the basket with his—with the baby, tucked the letter back inside and left, walking almost three blocks before remembering he could fly.
—
“Bullshit,” Bruce said as they stood there staring at the baby in the basket. Clark had told him what he knew, and they’d read over the letter three or four times just to be sure. “Lois is playing a trick.”
Clark just kind of looked at him because there was no universe where that could possibly be true, and they both knew it.
“Not Lois, then, someone else. That fourth-dimensional asshole who messes up your life.”
Clark shook his head.
“Luthor.”
Clark shook his head again, but this time helplessly because Luthor clearly had the technology to do this, but he didn’t know Clark was Superman, and didn’t have the heart to give his nemesis a son to raise.
“So somewhere in this universe of universes there’s a world where someone just...made a baby for you and Lois, and then, what? Sent it with a stork on a years-long journey on the assumption that you two would still be together and wanting a kid when it arrived?”
“I don’t know,” Clark said. “It seems that way, I guess.”
They fell back into silent contemplation of the basket and its contents, which cooed adorably at them and vaguely waved a hand around.
“Couldn’t they at least have sent a girl?” Bruce muttered.
“What?” Clark asked, both certain and uncertain of what he’d heard.
“What?” Bruce just looked back at him and pretended he hadn’t said it.
Their staring contest may never have ended, except that Dick arrived just then.
“Hello, fathers and assor—is that a baby ?” The baby was swept out of his basket and into Dick’s arms. “I love babies! What’s this one’s name?” He tossed it—him—in the air
“Jonathon,” Clark said.
Bruce gave him a pointed look.
Clark shrugged.
“Do we get to keep him?” Dick cooed to the baby, though he was probably joking.
Bruce cleared his throat. “There are things we need to check first, but probably.”
That made Dick look up. “Really? You two adopted another kid? Another boy ?”
Bruce held up the letter so he could read it.
“Oh,” Dick said. “Oh wow. So you and Lois were destined to be together, then?” He looked at Clark when he said it.
Clark scrunched up his nose. “It seems to imply that. And maybe I could see it. In a different timeline, of course,” he added hastily at Bruce’s pointed look.
“This raises so many questions,” Tim breathed, startling every adult present. Apparently he’d crept up behind them at some point. “Where did the timelines diverge? What caused the divergence? Will it try to right itself? How long ago did they send the baby that it arrived after the divergence?” He ended the last question with big eyes and a hopeful look at Bruce.
“Is the baby sent in every universe or timeline? And what happens if neither Lois nor Clark is there to receive it?” Bruce said, and the two started grinning at each other. “Is it genetically theirs, or not, and if not, whose?”
“Is it fully Kryptonian, and if so, how?!” Tim was nearly bouncing with joy.
“Whelp, we’ve lost them,” Dick said to Clark as Tim and Bruce kept listing questions and grinning ever more maniacally. “Does Alfred know yet?”
“Not yet,” Clark said, and he and Dick started their own shared grin. “I only just got back with him.”
“Come on!” Dick said and started walking away. Clark followed. “We’ve got to tell everyone .”
“I’ll need to run some genetic tests!” Bruce called as they left the room, and Clark waved in acknowledgement.
—
“What do you mean ‘ another brother’?” Damian asked, folding his arms across his chest. “Where is he? I will fight him for my place—“
“I thought you were over all that, Little D’,” Dick said with a sigh.
“I have accepted my place in the current roster of family, but—what is that…?”
Clark had unwrapped Jon, and held him up so the full power of his giant innocent blue eyes was turned onto Damian. “This is your new brother, Jon.”
“I—I—“ Damian stammered, clearly going through something as he attempted to resolve ‘helpless adorable creature’ with ‘new threat to inheritance’. Luckily his need to protect the helpless won out. “I will protect you with my life, I swear.” He reached out, and Clark handed over the baby. Dami held his new brother close and cooed something to him that, honestly, sounded a bit like a training regimen, but there was probably time to talk Dami out of the worst of it.
—
“Alfred!” Jason yelled. “Why is there a baby in the kitchen!?” It was lying on its tummy in a playpen, struggling to reach a toy.
Alfred appeared in the doorway. “He’s Master Clark’s new son, and Master Bruce’s as well, I suppose.”
“Okay, first, you’re going to have to explain that, and second, how come no one told me?”
“Surprise,” Cas said, nearly giving Jason a heart attack because he hadn’t realized she was there.
“Indeed,” Alfred agreed, “he’s only been here since last night, and I believe Master Clark and Master Dick both tried to contact you, but you did not respond.
“Roy hid my phone,” Jason muttered. And he hadn’t thought to check messages when Roy returned it; he’d be home shortly, and surely nothing important had happened.
“And before you ask why no one came in person, Master Jason, let me remind you that you were quite clear about remaining undisturbed on this occasion.”
“Yeah,” Jason said, because he did remember what he’d said when he stormed out last Thursday. “But a baby . That’s...important.”
“Perhaps you will learn to check your phone messages, then,” Alfred said, pulling some eggs out of the fridge.
Jason grumbled in agreement and stared at the baby, who had wriggled forward enough to grab the toy and put it in his mouth.
“Does Super Robin have a name?” He asked.
“Jon,” Cas said. “Hold him,” she added, answering Jason’s next unasked question.
Jason approached the playpen cautiously, and reached out. “I’m your big brother Jason,” he said, “I’m going to hold you now, and I’m going to love you forever.” He picked up the baby and curled him close to his chest. “Welcome to the family, Super Robin Jon.”