Archive of Our Own ^beta

Clark could earnestly say that he loves his job. Really, he wouldn’t have gone through 8 years of schooling in a notoriously rocky field if he didn't have a strong passion for it. Marine biologists could expect to get wet, smelly, and even bitten; marine biologists who specialized in Mer study and rehabilitation definitely could expect all of the above: as well as the possibility of getting slapped, grabbed, stung, and any other manner of attacked. 

But, he loved it. Clark was extremely lucky to have his position; he could have just as easily been staff in an aquarium, or not on the field at all. But, he had been offered a position at the Justice Foundation Marine Rehabilitation Center fresh out of graduation and he had never looked back. 

Years working as one of the only Mer specialists in the area had been hard; when he was painfully green mistakes had been made. But now, Clark was proud to say that while he was never going to be prepared for everything, he could certainly roll with the punches of any situation. Well. almost any situation. 

“Bruce, what are you- oh no, no. Do not hand me your baby sir!” 

Case in point, the yawning little pup that was being held out to him by a very impatient looking Mer.

Bruce was a familiar face at the center, one of Clark’s very first patients. He was mean looking, huge with an equally massive glossy black tail. Spiny protrusions on his head, forearms, and fluke added to his overall terrifying demeanor.

He had been taken in years ago after a boat propeller gouged his tail. Bruce was technically fully rehabilitated and had since been returned to the ocean, but the Mer had simply started coming back every few days, getting in through their release bay. Nothing would keep him out, no matter what they tried.

It had been concerning at first, but it soon became clear that Bruce was returning in an attempt to see the Mer child he had shared a tank with; Richard. (Well, that was what was on his papers. He didn’t respond to anything but Dick and it was easier to administer medications to a Mer child who was willing to humor you.) 

Richard had been listless ever since Bruce’s release so Clark had figured it wouldn’t hurt to arrange a reunion. The rest was history.

Clark suspected that Bruce considered the Center as an infinite free baby source. The male Mer consistently latched onto child patients without parents or whose caretakers he deemed inadequate. Now, at least 3 of Bruce’s children had been sourced from the Center; including the one being held out to Clark now.

“Bruce, why?” Clark tried to ask. Bruce narrowed his eyes and continued to hold out the child. The donors Clark had been giving a tour stood there in shock and awe, thankfully delighted with the interruption.

“Bruce, I’m in the middle of something, I can’t take Timmy right now.” Clark tried to reason. Unfortunately, Bruce’s stubbornness was legendary. He also had a way of glaring that made any unlucky recipient feel like burying their head in the sand. 

Bruce actually growled at him, a low rumbling sound that vibrated out of his throat and into the air. His tail lashed under the water, spines flaring. Clark could tell it wasn’t an aggressive move, more for show, but he was worried about the donors behind him. Bruce’s little tantrums could look pretty scary if you weren’t familiar with him.

Biting the bullet, Clark resigned himself to getting his work shirt wet and took Tim out of Bruce’s arms. The child barely reacted, simply chirping then burrowing into the new source of the warmth. Bruce made a little noise back. Mrrp.

Trying to find a good way to hold Timmy was a little tricky. He was getting bigger, and slippery wet scales did not make the task any easier. After a moment of fumbling (watched very closely by papa fish to make sure the silly human didn’t drop his baby) Clark was able to find a hold that was comfortable to both of them.

“Happy now?” He asked rather sarcastically, half serious and half putting on a show for the donors. Bruce did look quite pleased with himself, letting out a happy rumble.

Then, as quickly as he appeared, Bruce ducked back under the water and through the exit tunnel built just for his comings and goings. Clark was left gaping, with arms full of wet baby and no idea what just happened. Tim, ever oblivious to what his dad just did, tried to stick his cold little nose into Clark’s armpit. 

Bruce had… never done this before. This was new behavior. What did this mean? Was he getting one of Tim’s brothers? Did he notice something wrong and wanted Clark to do a check-up? Why did he just dart off? 

The donors chatting behind him snapped him out of his thoughts. This was concerning, but he had to wrap up his current task first. The Center lived and died on good relationships with its donors; this wasn’t just something he could brush off.

But could he do it with his new cargo? Tim was still pretty sleepy, it was about the time his brothers liked to find a sunny patch and take a midday nap. If he stayed still Clark would wrap up the tour and then bring him to the clinic for some tests. He was near the end anyways; he liked to save the back enclosures for last in case any of Bruce’s family was visiting. It was a good way to show off the Center’s success stories.

Plan decided, Clark turned to the couple with a smile and tried his best at a nonchalant chuckle.

“That was Bruce, one of our former patients. He’s a real gentle giant. He likes to bring his kids around when he visits, probably so he can take advantage of free daycare.” Mostly true; Dick and Jason liked to pop in now and again and Bruce was never far behind when they did. Jason especially; he was still too young to really go anywhere without his dad. A giant, yes, but gentle? Maybe not by human standards. No. They had once had to hold a patient for another month after they got a little too close to Dick. Bruce had lunged. 

Hmm. Another strike for Bruce’s off behavior. The list of people he would let near his kids when they were small was very short, and never without his supervision. He was more lax with his older boys now, but pups Tim’s size? By all means Clark should have a big bulky shadow following his every move. 

Thankfully, the donors were very happy with the impromptu show they were treated to, and utterly enamored with Tim. They allowed Clark to spout off some fun facts before bringing them back to the main office for someone else to give them some free t-shirts and send them on their way.

The moment the goodbyes were over, Clark started powerwalking to his clinic space. Tim was still dead to the world, thankfully.

Clark carefully lowered him into the clinic’s tank, turning on the water heater so Tim would be comfortable. The child didn’t even seem to notice. It really was fascinating how smoothly Mer could switch between breathing in air and water. Clark knew Tim had been struggling with it for a bit, a side effect of the gill infection that brought him to the Center in the first place. Seeing the pup able to perform the task so effortlessly now warmed his heart. 

The rest of the afternoon was spent on running various tests and screening for sickness. Midway through Timmy had woken up and demanded to be fed, refusing to behave unless he was being held. So a late lunch was spent with a wiggly Mer pup in his lap while Clark tried to eat a sandwich around curious hands. Tim had devoured an entire fish, making an absolute mess and condemning Clark’s button-up to the trash once the day was over. 

After that the pup had gotten bored of the clinic and started escaping the tank with the goal of putting things into his mouth. Timmy was whip-smart, which meant keeping him occupied was an important consideration lest he start dismantling tank filters. Even the ring puzzles Clark kept in a desk drawer were soon solved and discarded. The blood tests had come back clean, and there was no sign of bruising or yellowing around his gills, so Clark made the executive decision that it was safe to move to a bigger enclosure. 

A decision made not a moment too soon, as Tim had somehow gotten an empty pill bottle into his tank and was doing battle with the child lock. (Now that was an idea- an enrichment toy made out of a pill bottle with treats inside? It would probably keep a curious mer busy for a bit. On the other hand, Clark really did not want to teach Tim how to get around child locks. Or to look in pill bottles for treats.)

Clark got a few raised eyebrows from his coworkers as he walked down the halls with a Mer pup. Clark knew he probably looked like he just got out of a warzone. Tim had been playing with his hair for the past 10 minutes and his white shirt was both wet and stained pink in patches from Tim’s lunch. There was a wet patch on his lap that probably made it look like he had an accident, but the overall soggyness of the rest of his clothes hopefully dissuaded that assumption. 

Tim started peeping excitedly once the back enclosure came into view. Clark barely had time to lower him closer to the water before the pup was wiggling aggressively to get out of his arms. As much as Bruce liked him, Clark doubted he would put up with the human dropping one of his kids. 

The moment his fins touched the water, the pup was off like a rocket to swim loops around the enclosure. Clark winced as there was an almost-collision with a rock. It was honestly a little dizzying to watch. In a way it was reminiscent of Dick, who would jump out of the water and do tricks for anyone nearby. 

After five or six more loops (All supervised by Clark in case of high speed Timmy collision) the pup switched missions to carefully follow some of the fish milling around the enclosure. 

It was so fascinating to be able to observe these behaviors in person. This play-stalking would teach him how to hunt as an adult, once his second set of teeth grew in and his claws were big enough to pierce straight through flesh. Jason was getting to that age, forgetting that he could now hurt others if he grabbed them the wrong way. 

It felt like not so long ago Clark was opening clams for him; they grow up so fast… 

A small wet hand latching onto his ankle startled Clark out of his nostalgia. Tim was right below him now, and determined to ruin as many articles of clothing Clark had on as possible. He made a series of peeping noises, smacking the water with his free hand. When this didn't get Clark to do anything except bend down a bit, he started tugging on the captured ankle. Oh, OH!

“Timmy, I can’t play in the water the way you can. Your papa will be back soon and I’m sure your brothers will play with you then.” Actually, this raised a very valid concern. Where was Bruce? It was getting late, the sun was about to set. He had never left his kids alone in the facility for so long before, usually only an hour at most for medical necessities. Clark had been pushing it to the back of his mind, but as the sunlight waned and the artificial lights turned on the issue was becoming more pressing.

A little pit of worry formed in Clark’s stomach. Bruce had seemed perfectly fine when he left… did he get into a fight? There was nothing much in the ocean that would be stupid enough to pick a fight with Bruce, and even fewer that would win, but he was still vulnerable to nets and toxins. Dick was old enough to fight now but it was possible that Bruce didn’t take him with for whatever reason. He could be alone, trapped or incapacitated somehow. The area was generally pretty safe, but…. 

It was times like these where Clark wished that tagging Bruce actually worked. 

There was a second, almost worse option as well. One that he didn't really want to consider. 

Was Timmy… abandoned? Mer parents did it sometimes, it had even happened to Tim before. His parents had been brought in with him to be treated for gill infections, and had simply left him in the release tank when it was time to go. Bruce, who had been circling Tim like a baby-seeking shark for his entire stay, had very quickly scooped him up. There was no indication that Bruce couldn’t care for Timmy or was displeased with him somehow; both Dick and Jason were just as fond of him. Tim didn’t seem upset either. He had a good appetite and didn’t show any signs of stress. 

Clark suddenly felt very bad. A sick twist in his stomach as he looked down at the child. He was still tugging at his ankle, flashing pup-dull fins in an attempt to seem bigger. Bruce was his friend, and was a dedicated father. Clark shouldn’t theorize like this until all other options have been exhausted. It was a little silly to defend Bruce from his own mind like this, but Clark tried to believe the best of people before assuming the worst. 

Tim clearly wasn’t going to give up, and he felt a little bad for the pup now. So Clark gently removed the hand from his ankle and straightened up. 

“Tim, I’m going to put a wetsuit on. I’ll join you in the water once I’m all suited up, ok?”

Clark didn’t really know how much the pup understood, but it was good to cover his bases. Still, it was a little heartbreaking to hear the whines behind him as he made for a locker.

The wetsuit was mainly for his own comfort; the water could get pretty cold in this area. Some subspecies of Mer could thrive in subzero temperatures; Clark’s comparatively weaker body could not. Bruce seemed unbothered by cold weather and his boys all followed suit. 

It was probably the fastest Clark had ever suited up, nearly tripping over himself to get it on. He could hear Timmy’s frantic peeping spurring him on. Clark wondered if Bruce could peep. He mostly vocalized in grunts and rumbles, but Dick still peeped and chirped sometimes so it wasn’t that mature Mer lost the ability to do so. 

Well- maybe? There still wasn’t much known about Mer lifecycles. Dick had fully lost the “baby colors” on his tail, so Clark considered him an adult, but that was just a guess on his part. It was a bit scary to think that CLARK could be considered one of the foremost experts on Mer maturation, as someone who has observed two juveniles from puphood. 

The water was still cold, even with the wetsuit. But Tim was very warm as he barreled into Clark’s chest and curiously poked and prodded at the specialized fabric. Deeming it acceptable by whatever his mysterious fishy standards were, it didn’t take long for him to start tugging on Clark's arm. Clark obliged, moving forward to the deepest area he could stand in while still holding his head above the water. 

This was considered a pretty risky move, all things considered. But Timmy was tiny, and was very used to Clark. He would never do this with a Mer he hadn’t practically co-raised. Still, Clark could practically hear the wail of despair of his Mer Handling and Interactions professor. Great class, spent a very long time on the ethics module. Clark should probably email her about this new behavior from Bruce, actually. 

Tim realized that Clark wasn’t going to go any deeper, and leveled a disappointed little glare at him. Clearly this was something he had learned from Bruce. All of his kids seemed to have picked it up to varying degrees of success.

Clark, now used to and utterly unaffected by this look, merely held up one of the weighted toys he had brought with him into the water. Predictably, this flipped Tim’s expression from annoyed to pleading quite quickly. After years of observation Clark could conclude that Mer pups LOVED playing fetch.

20 minutes of tossing the toy later, Timmy’s energy was finally flagging. When he failed to retrieve the final toss in favor of swimming head first into Clark’s chest and just floating there, it was time to stop. 

Clark gathered the yawning pup into his arms and moved to a shallower part of the pool. He sat down and made himself comfortable, keeping Tim in his lap, held underwater. Tim quickly grabbed on to one of his arms, a natural reflex meant to keep him from being swept away by currents while he slept. A tasteful rock decoration was kind of digging into his back in an uncomfortable way, but this was so cute Clark didn’t mind. As long as he didn't sit on a crab or something. 

Clark didn’t know how long he sat there with Tim, but it was enough time for the sun to set fully and the reserve lighting to turn on at the bottom of the pool. Normally at this hour Clark would have shut the pool’s outdoor access and gone home, but no one had come to pick up Timmy yet and he didn’t want to lock anyone out. It was honestly quite nice, the peaceful sound of water lapping and the low lighting was making Clark a bit drowsy himself…

All encroaching fingers of sleep were yanked away as a large black shape entered the pool.

Clark shot to his feet as fast as he could, holding Tim close to him and moving to get out of the pool. A familiar call caused him to pause, taking a moment to really look at what just entered the water. 

It was Bruce!

Relief flooded his body and Clark could practically feel all the tension leave his shoulders. He stepped back into the water, carefully cradling Tim who had somehow remained asleep through the jostling. He waded in back up to his waist, intending to meet Bruce halfway.

Bruce wasted no time in swimming right up to Clark. He held out his arms with an expectant expression on his face. Straight to business, as usual. 

Tim was gently traded hands and Bruce immediately started inspecting him for any wear or tear. Clark would feel offended if this wasn’t entirely on brand for the ever cautious Mer. 

Two other shapes made themselves known, both smaller than Bruce and more colorful to boot. Dick chirped happily as he twined his long tail around Clark’s legs, and Jason made his own greeting while hovering closer to his dad. The whole family had come to pick up Tim!

Bruce made a grunt of approval, apparently pleased with Tim’s lack of injury and well-fed demeanor. He flared the spines on his head at Clark then made a trilling call that pulled his children back to his side. As fast as they had appeared, the pod was on their way out. Dick did a showy twirl in the water as a cheerful goodbye. 

Clark was left alone in his wetsuit, still without answers, tired, and a little cold. 

-----

After locking up and biking back home, Clark barely had enough energy to shower then send an email from his phone before passing out. The next morning, he was surprised to see a quick response from the old professor he had messaged about Bruce’s strange behavior. 

He read the email’s first paragraph and groaned as it became clear this was something Lois was going to tease him about until the end of time. 

“It is so nice to hear from you, Clark! As for your question about the behavior you observed, are you familiar with how cats will ‘co-parent’ with other adult cats in their colony?”