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cakeandpi · 8 years ago

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~8.5k words of post-s2 somewhat angsty, mostly fluffy AU. I’m not entirely satisfied with it but also everything I add at this point is more angst than fluff so this is the end product, faults and all.

Unapologetically ignores much of s2 - Tula doesn’t die, the Cave doesn’t blow up, Wally never ceases, and Kaldur doesn’t immediately take back over the team. Kind of an expansion / 'other side’ of this fic.

They barely get there in time.

He skids to a stop, Garth a half-step behind him, as the room opens up. Before him, there’s the team, battered and hurt but alive. Behind them a creature fills most of the room, thrashing and screaming as it’s forced back by bright blue-white light.

The light comes from Tula, standing defiantly between the creature and the team, and Kaldur sucks in a breath as he takes in her state. Her tattoos are glowing, the light of her magic spilling over their boundaries and outlining her body in stark relief. The sight stills his breath and his heart, even as the shivering power in the air makes his bones itch.

There’s no time to be careful with this. Tula doesn’t have time for careful. So he forgoes his waterbearers and slams forward as much raw power as he can muster. He can feel Garth do the same beside him. With any luck, they can give her enough power that she doesn’t have to draw too deeply on her own dwindling resources. If she hasn’t already.

The very idea terrifies him to his core.

The creature Tula's fighting screams, shattering the air. The temple collapses and everything goes dark.

Something grabs his shoulder, shakes him insistently. It's annoying; he's tired and he hurts, can't he rest? Kaldur forces his eyes open so that maybe the shaking will stop.

“Garth?” Kaldur murmurs blearily. Garth’s hair is disheveled, a large bruise spreading across his face, and Kal means to reach up to touch it but something’s not right with his hand. His bones feel about as strong as kelp, and his chest feels hollow and empty after that rush of pure, unrefined power. It had felt like trying to reign in a tidal wave and succeeding.

“Hey, you back with us? Can you sit up?” A hand, gentle and soft, runs over his hair and Kaldur’s eyes slide closed again. His head hurts, and by the dull, distant throbbing from his wrist he’s pretty sure it’s at least sprained, if not broken. Licking his lips, he makes himself murmur a yes and lets Garth pull him into a sitting position, too weak and spent to help. “Okay?”

“Yeah.” The room doesn't spin, for all that it feels like it should. “Tula?”

Garth squeezes his shoulder. “Alive,” he says, and Kaldur exhales in relief, then winces at a fresh stab of pain from his ribs.

Tula’s caught under the rubble, and she doesn’t wake when the team finally frees her. She’s injured badly, and Kaldur clenches one hand uselessly, the other too stiff to move without pain. She’s breathing, albeit weakly, but her skin is deathly shade of pale. His throat is tight the entire short journey back to Atlantis. What if the healers cannot help her? What if she does not know them anymore when she wakes? What if she doesn’t wake?

The healers whisk her away. Others fuss over him and Garth. It feels like hours before they are allowed to see Tula again. He and Garth sit with her through the night, the healers’ insistence that they go home be damned. Tula should have her family around her when she wakes. They aren’t about to leave her side if there’s any other choice.

Late into the night, or early in the morning - it's hard to tell given that neither of them have slept - the king visits. There's little improvement to update him with. Concussions all around, Kaldur with a broken wrist and two cracked ribs, Garth nominally okay but sporting an impressive amount of bruises and only not swimming as if drunk through sheer stubbornness. And then there's Tula's state. None of them are going to be fit for training, let alone combat, for a while.

The king nods, then fixes his gaze on Kaldur. “I need to talk with you privately.” And this is his king, he should not refuse, except that right now he cannot even bring himself to care that he doesn’t care.

“Whatever you have to say, my king, it can either wait until Tula has recovered or it can be said right here and now.” Garth's hand on his back lends him enough strength to make his voice firm, and the king sighs tiredly.

“I apologise for not being entirely forthright with you before, about your parentage. About Black Manta.” That hollow feeling returns with a vengeance, only this time there's no yearning for a lost sense of power. Instead, he thinks that this betrayal might swallow him whole. Kaldur turns his head away as soon as he realizes what the king is talking about. “I did not want you to leave us to go chasing down your father.”

“My father is with my mother in Shayeris.” He whispers, not looking up.

“Calvin and Sha'lain’a are good citizens.” The king comments. “I do not worry about you taking after them.”

The tight ball of worry in his stomach collapses in on itself and sinks impossibly deeper. There's no way his father, the one he's always known, isn't his father. It's impossible and nonsensical and yet. And yet.

Garth tells the king to leave, and if it weren't for the fact that Kaldur was floating somewhere a foot behind and above his own body, he'd scold Garth for his less than respectful tone.

Then solid strong arms wrap tight around him, and Kaldur clutches at Garth as if he were a lifeline. “That doesn't make you his son,” Garth says, his tone firm and fervent. “None of that has to mean one damned thing, okay Kal?” Kaldur tucks his head into Garth's shoulder and tries not to think about anything.

Tula’s color slowly improves and her breathing strengthens, and at some point Kaldur lays his head down on Garth's shoulder and closes his eyes, only for a moment. But he falls asleep anyway, and wakes to Garth resting heavily against him and snoring softly.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” a voice croaks from nearby. Kaldur looks up and grins tiredly at finding Tula watching them, her eyes a bit glazed from pain but aware.

The healers give the okay some hours later and they bring her home so she can be a terrible patient in comfort. And she is a terrible patient, trying to swim rather than drift, forgetting that her arm’s immobilized and trying to do two-handed things anyway, and generally insisting that she is fine and doesn't need fussing over. Kaldur simply hums and nods and stays nearby for when her small bursts of energy fade and she finally allows herself to be helped, while Garth, as the least injured of the three, does his best to get to chores before Tula can notice there was even a need to do them.

Tula is blissfully unaware of what the king had said, and Garth doesn't bring it up, not once. He’s grateful that it is being left alone for now, as if it is not even worth even a simple acknowledgement. Surely, he can continue as he has been, as if nothing has changed? But it grates on him, even as he wishes nothing more than to never have to deal with it. Nothing has changed, not even a little, and yet it’s like one of those child’s games of two very similar pictures where only the smallest, subtlest bits have shifted. Only instead of pictures its his own life.

He waits until Tula recovers enough that she's napping only once a day, then visits his parents. As always, they are delighted to see him, even unannounced, and as always, his mother tells him he's too thin. As always, his father chuckles and tells him can take back to Garth and Tula what he doesn't manage to eat.

It's like everything is normal. He hesitates, here where he used to live, his parents trading idle gossip back and forth. It's familiar and calm and he doesn't want to disturb it. But the king's words echo in his head, and if he tries to ignore it, it'll only bother him more and more.

He cannot avoid this forever. He cannot let his fear petrify him. And yet it feels like he just stepped away from one yawning chasm, when Tula woke with her mind intact, and now he’s about to fling himself over another. Even so, he must ask.

The look his parents share before they even begin to answer his question confirms that the king is not simply mistaken. He's Black Manta's son, and no one had thought to inform him. Were they afraid he would choose a person who wanted to destroy everything he held dear?

His mother's mouth twists, and Kaldur belatedly realizes he said that thought out loud. "No more than we fear the Earth to stop going around the sun, or for the tides to not follow the moon,” his father answers. And that could have been all of it, except…

“I used to work for him.” Kaldur's jaw drops. That's impossible and ridiculous, and yet he knows he didn't mishear his father's words. “I believed in the ideas that David - don't look so shocked, of course he has a name - I believed in what he claimed to be trying to do. Over time it became clear that all he wanted was to destroy King Orin, with his promises of creating a better world simply empty words. I defected.”

“Whereas I was only ever shown a 'simple treasure hunter’,” his mother adds. “I suspected that there was more, but I never pressed for it until, well, I got pregnant with you. And I found that I didn't, after all, like him all that much.”

“Then how -” Kaldur begins before knowing what he wants to ask. “That is, how -”

“’Lain’a was in distress, and I was disillusioned, so we left together.” His father reaches out and covers his wife's hands with his own. “Love didn't come til later, not until you were about ready to join the world. We made the decision to not tell you, in the hopes that you would never need to know. That it would never be something you would have to deal with.”

Kaldur stares at them. He cannot imagine his father as one of Manta's men. He cannot imagine his mother so carefree as to not care what someone did with most of their day. He's jolted from his reverie by his father's words.

“If you… if you don't want me to call you son anymore, I understand.” It's a ridiculous suggestion and he says as much.

“Then who would be my father?” His voice wavers unexpectedly, and he's enveloped in a crushing hug that he returns wholeheartedly.

The king is wrong. Because it doesn't matter who he's related to, that won't override the family he has.

But it does matter.

If he plays it right, it could be a way to swim right into enemy territory and gather information. Information that’s desperately needed, as his team continues to be stymied at every turn by this Light that seems to always be one step ahead. Of course, it could all go south at a moment’s notice too.

He hates thinking like this.

Garth and Tula argue against the idea. Not that he expected them not to, but it makes it harder when the idea already makes his own insides churn and he’s only talking about doing it.

“Shit, Kal, how am I supposed to pretend to believe - and have people believe me - that you're betraying all of us?” Garth demands. “How’s anyone supposed to believe that of you?”

It’s distressingly easy to answer Garth’s last question. “The king already thinks it only a matter of time before I do.”

Garth's eyes go dangerously flat and Tula stiffens in unbridled fury, and for a moment Kaldur almost fears for the king's well being. It is gratifying to see them outraged and furious on his behalf.

He has no answer for Tula’s questions, though. “What are we supposed to do when it comes to a fight?” He shakes his head, and her frown deepens. “Do you really think he won’t make you ‘prove’ yourself by attacking Atlantis, let alone us? Or your team?”

He has no answer, but between the three of them they craft some possibilities. In some ways it’s frustrating, because the longer he waits to put the plan into motion the more he doesn’t want to go through with it at all. In more ways he’s glad they insisted on helping him plan, because once he does leave it’s going to be a long, long time before he feels their arms around him again. It gives him a chance to store up these small moments of Tula’s idle humming, of Garth distractedly playing with his hair - or Tula’s, or trying to with Kaldur’s - while lost in thought. Of them, together, all knees and elbows and kisses and laughter and terrible jokes and even worse puns. He breathes deep and takes it all in against the upcoming famine.

Saying goodbye takes several long, lingering hours that pass by far too quickly. After, he watches Tula and Garth doze, exhausted from the process of saying their goodbyes. Tula’s heart beats steadily under his hand, and Garth’s breath brushes softly over his shoulder. Despite their efforts to tire him, he doesn’t sleep until it’s nearly morning, wanting to be sure he has every detail of them memorized.

---

“Kaldur’ahm!” M’gann greets him, cheerful and bright and energetic as ever in the morning. “How are you doing? Aquaman told us you had been injured, are you well now? How are Garth and Tula?”

Kaldur smiles, amused even through the heavy weight of the plan he’ll be putting into action soon. “I am much improved, thank you. Garth and Tula are doing well, though Tula remains on light duty for the time being. I’m sure they’ll both return to active duty soon.”

M’gann catches him up on the gossip she deems important that he’s missed over the past month. Kaldur half-listens with one ear as they walk to the sparring room, where Conner is doing his best to catch Nightwing. From the sweat drenching Conner’s shirt, they’ve been at it for more than a few minutes. “Stand still!” Conner growls in frustration as Nightwing twists out of range.

“Nope.” Nightwing smirks as he lands on his hands and then flips neatly onto his feet. “Not happening. Unless Kal wants to swap out with me?”

Kaldur shakes his head - his ribs have only recently healed, he doesn’t want to stress them overmuch so soon - and clasps Nightwing’s offered hand. “Another time, perhaps. How have all of you been?”

Conner straightens from his last lunge and brushes off his hands. “Good. Better, now that you’re back.”

“Conner’s right.” Nightwing says. “I know I’m more than ready to go back to following commands rather than giving them.”

The comment isn’t unexpected but Kaldur suppresses a sigh all the same. “I’m sure you are doing fine.” He says, swallowing his irritation. “And the only way to improve is to keep trying.”

“Ugh, you sound like Batman.” Nightwing groans.

“Do not.” Kaldur snorts. “I haven’t asked for a multi-page report on your progress, after all.”

M’gann grins. “He’s got a point.”

“I did, however, want to talk with you about something. All three of you, actually. When you have a moment.”

They are distraught at what he intends to do. What he intends to put himself through. Well, M’gann and Conner are vocal about it. Nightwing is quieter, less insistent, though clearly unhappy. But Kaldur isn’t coming to them for permission, only to inform them because as Tula rightly pointed out, the chance that Black Manta would have him fight his teammates his very high. He doesn’t want to do that without giving them a chance to prepare.

His main regret is not getting to tell Roy. But as entrenched in the Shadows as Roy is in his search for Speedy, it's safer for both of them this way. And at least the team knows, so they can tell him once it's safer.

---

Cleaning up after the Reach’s failed last ditch invasion effort takes time. After a flurry of discussion, most of the disabled magnetic field disruptors are sent into asteroid belt for ‘safe keeping’. One they bring to the Cave for study. Sphere takes an instant disliking to it, and the afternoon Kaldur meant to spend writing up reports on his recently completed mission is instead spent comforting Sphere. And Roy.

“I cannot believe you did that to me.” Roy says, not for the first time.

Kaldur gives him a tired look. “You were searching for Speedy.” He responds mildly.

Roy absently pats Sphere when it nudges against his knee. “Yeah, but you could trust the entire team and not me with the whole ‘hey I’m going to pretend to be evil’ thing?”

“Not the entire team. Only Nightwing and M’gann and Conner.”

“Uh huh.”

Kaldur looks up from the report he’s been trying, and failing, to write. “Roy, I am sorry. Would you have wanted me to put you in more danger by seeking you out and telling you the truth? When you were busy getting elbow deep in the Shadows?”

Roy sighs heavily. “Yes. No. I don’t know. I guess it would’ve been bad, if I had gotten tortured and that slipped out or something.”

“Mm.” Kaldur goes back to his report, but not before nudging Roy’s foot with his own. “You ever wish we had lives where we didn’t have to worry about that sort of thing?”

“What, and be boring?” Roy returns the nudge, and Kaldur smiles to himself. “Though it hasn’t been exactly relaxing, being out of the game. Anyone who says raising a kid’s easy is a liar.”

“How is Lian?”

“Loud.” Roy says without hesitation. “She loves exploring the kitchen cabinets and scaring the shit out of me by hiding in them when I’m not looking. Hasn't figured out how to climb up to the counter yet, thankfully.”

Kaldur laughs. “Practice for when she takes up being a vigilante too, hm?”

“I don’t even want to think about that.” Roy sighs and shakes his head. “I know it’s probably a given, but as far as I’m concerned that can take forever to happen.”

There's a blessed moment of quiet during which Kaldur manages to finish an entire paragraph. Then -

“What about you? Do you ever wish you had a different life?”

“No. Not ever.” Kaldur says. It’s not precisely true - he’s spent plenty of hours wondering what his life might have been like if something had gone differently. There's certainly things he'd like to change, or undo, but not at the risk of the happiness he's found. So it’s true enough.

Sphere beeps at them then. “You’re as bad as Lian, I swear.” Roy mutters. “What is it?”

“You’re in her way.” Superboy leans against the doorway, waving at the two. “Wally and I are back. We’ve disabled those teleporters as best we could.”

“And not the old fashioned, violent way!” Wally calls from the hallway. “Mostly!”

Roy moves so that Sphere can follow Superboy and complain to him about the half-gutted MFD currently residing in their base. “So, you going to take back over the team now? Nightwing keeps making noises about that.”

Kaldur sets his report down and leans back. “Actually. I was going to ask a favor of you.”

“Uh, Kal, you know I love you, but we both know I am not cut out to be a leader.”

Kaldur bites his lip to suppress a grin at the distressed look Roy gives him. He suspects he fails miserably. “Not that. More of just trying to get along with the team and looking in on them now and then for me?”

“And why would you not be able to do that yourself?”

The urge to grin fades. “I… am tired, Roy. I need a break. To that end, I would like to return to Atlantis soon, to rest.” He doesn’t mention that there’s been talk of a trial. There’s nothing either of them could do about such a thing, and so far it has only been talk.

“... How long?”

“I do not know. Ideally, as long as I need. Realistically?” Kaldur shrugs. “Who knows. But I would rest easier knowing that you were keeping an eye on the team.”

“Okay. Okay, fine, I'll do it. I'll make nice and everything, cause it's you. But in return, you are going to come over and meet Lian before you go home.”

Kaldur nudges his foot again. “I’d be delighted to finally meet her.”

---

Lian is adorable, and far from shy. She toddles over to them immediately before the door even closes and demands, “Up!” Roy caves to the demand, pausing in pulling out his wallet to pay the babysitter.

“She’s eaten, and had a nap. I haven’t had a chance yet to wear out her post-nap energy, though, so good luck.” The young woman says, waving goodbye to Lian. “Next week, same time?”

“That would be great.”

Kaldur steps aside so she can leave. “Took forever to find someone that Jade didn’t terrify into quitting.” Roy comments.

“Perhaps we should recruit her to the team then.” Kaldur jokes, earning a scowl from Roy.

“Haha, very funny. You do that, you get to babysit Lian during your sabbatical.”

“That would hardly be an imposition.” He smiles at Lian, who’s looking up at him curiously even as she tries to stuff Roy’s shirt in her mouth.

Soon enough she’s making grabbing motions towards him. Roy gleefully transfers Lian to his hold, and Kaldur stares down at Lian as she stares up at him. “Hello.” He tells her, and she burbles in delight and pats at his gills. “Ah, no, lets not.”

“No!” She repeats. “No.”

“No indeed.” Kaldur agrees, glancing over at Roy, who’s trying to smother - and failing terribly - laughter. He shifts Lian so he can hold her one-handed and presents a less delicate target for her curiosity. “Here.”

It works. The webbing of his fingers fascinates her, and she keeps poking at it and giggling. Eventually, though, she gets bored with his hand and demands to be put down - “Da. Da da da.” - which Kaldur initially mistook as desire to be returned to Roy.

“Hah, no, I am daah, not da. Very different and all.”

“I see,” Kaldur says with fake graveness, kneeling down to set Lian on the floor.

She toddles away, then immediately turns around and comes back. Pats Kaldur’s leg then toddles away again. “She wants you to follow her.” Roy says, not bothering to hide his grin.

Kaldur shakes his head and does as suggested.

A little later, he looks up at the feeling of cold plastic on his neck. “Ah, thank you.” He takes the offered water bottle and drinks half of it immediately.

“Thought you might want it. You’ve been playing with her for an hour.”

“... I did not realize so much time had passed.” He looks down at where Lian has been building, and subsequently destroying, a city made of soft blocks. “She’s nowhere near as loud as you made her out to be.”

“You haven’t been trying to sleep when she decides to be wide awake though.” He sighs as he sits on the beat-up couch nearby, rather than on the floor with Kaldur and Lian. “Hey, you take as much time as you need before you come back. I promise I’ll do my best to get along. At the very least, you won’t have to worry about returning early on my account.” He twists open the cap on his own water bottle.

“On your account? Are you saying you don’t want to see me?” He asks in a light tone.

A prickle of guilt runs through him as Roy startles and spills water on himself. “Uh, no, fuck no, that's not what I-”

“I know.” Kaldur interrupts, reaching over and squeezing Roy's knee gently. He hadn't wanted to distress Roy, only tease him a little. Apparently he needs to work on not sounding so serious. “I know. I would promise to see you, but I also know myself. If I come back up here, and the Team asks me to rejoin, I would talk myself into accepting, ready or not. I will call you, I can promise you that much.”

A damp hand covers his. “I'll be fine. You just focus on taking care of yourself, okay?”

“All right.”

---

Kaldur’s not really sure what he’s going to be greeted with on his return. Some of the things he’s done, he wouldn’t blame Garth nor Tula if they did not want to welcome him back to Atlantis, let alone their home.

He’s not imprisoned on sight, which is something at least. The King must have successfully argued that Kaldur’s activities were done at royal command. It feels like an apology of sorts, one he doesn’t want. He chose to go undercover, he chose to go through with the assignments Black Manta gave him, he chose to attack the very people he was supposed to protect.

He chose, and he doesn’t deserve to be excused for it.

His thoughts are cut short by a body slamming into his. He reacts, grabbing back at his attacker, and twisting about to throw them. It’s wildly unsuccessful and limbs wrap around him. “I am not sorry for surprising you like that.” Tula says into his ear, and he exhales and immediately loosens his grip. Looking up, he finds Garth a short distance away, grinning broadly.

“I could have hurt you, love.” He grumbles, shifting so that he’s holding her instead of trying to pry her off. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, and you could try to hurt me.” Tula pulls back only to lean in to kiss him deeply. “I know what you can do, Kal, but don’t think for a second that I haven’t kept up.”

Garth kicks over to them and drapes his arms over both of them. “Meanwhile I have a healthy respect for both of your ass kicking abilities.” He pecks Kaldur on the lips. Then his cheek. His ear.

“Tease.” Kaldur murmurs, closing his eyes against the emotions stirring inside him. This is far more than he had hoped to return to, when he had left.

“You like it.” Garth chuckles before kissing Kaldur’s mouth thoroughly. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

Home. He had not let himself think about going home in nearly a year. He swallows thickly and nods, not trusting his voice to remain steady.

They don’t break apart from him on the swim home, instead crowding up against him so that they have to synchronize their movements in order to get anywhere. It takes a few tries to get started, a misplaced kick here and an overcorrection there sending them out of their intended path and into a wall a time or two. Once it wouldn’t have taken any effort to synch up, and Kaldur reminds himself that they can regain that. Just because he’s not in tune with them right now doesn’t mean he’s lost that forever. And then Tula bumps her hip into his and sends them off course again and he realizes with a start that they’re doing this on purpose.

Neptune, he's missed them.

When they finally arrive home, he feels tension drain out of him. He’d been half-expecting to turn a corner and meet a squad of soldiers, sent to detain him so he could explain his actions of the past year. Not that that still couldn’t happen. But it was pretty rare for people to be dragged out of their own homes. It would be messy, and the Atlantean military preferred to be neat about these things.

“How is everything on the surface? You don’t have to go back very soon?”

Kaldur shakes his head. “Good, and no. For the time being, I am ‘on break’ from the team. Roy has promised to look after them for me, even.”

“Oh? That’s good to hear. We will have to thank Roy for his noble sacrifice.”

“Hopefully not in the same way you ‘thanked’ me the other day.” Garth pokes Tula in the side.

She swats his hand away playfully. “Hah, hardly! Though Kal might enjoy watching. His two favorite redheads, together.” She bats her eyes at him, and Kaldur flushes. What is he supposed to do with that mental image?

“I… don’t think Roy would be up for that. Um.” He hopes not, at least. As… fascinating… as that the idea is, he can’t see the two of them actually getting along like that, not when he and Roy rarely went that far in the first place.

Tula laughs. “I’m just joking, Kal. He’s far too abrasive for my tastes. Nevermind that I have my hands full with just you two. We do have you back for a while, then?”

“I hope so. Though that may change at a moment’s notice.” Kaldur’s smile fades a little, thinking of all the ways missions have gone bad in the past.

“Hey. Kal, hey. Stop worrying for half a second, love?” Tula grabs his hand and tugs him toward their bedroom. “You look like you haven’t slept in days. Rest, relax. You need it.”

“Uh huh.” Kaldur lets himself be tugged. “And just how much resting am I supposed to get with both of you here?”

“As much as you need. No fun for anyone if you have to tap out early, you know.” Tula pulls him down to lie back against her and her fingers lazily scratch through his hair. He lets his eyes close, matches his breathing to hers, and against his every expectation finds it hard to open his eyes again.

“No that we don’t plan to wear you out later. Thoroughly.” Garth’s voice is a low rumble full of promises, his body a warm comforting weight on top of him. If he weren’t so tired, Kaldur would’ve made him make good on those words immediately. He’s still tempted.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

They don’t make good on it immediately. They’re insistent on him actually resting, no hidden meanings implied, and the gleam in Tula’s eye makes him think that this is, perhaps, light revenge for all the bedrest he and Garth had pushed on her, back when she had been so seriously injured.

Two entire days of being shooed away from anything but the lightest chores. It’s endearing, even if he’s also bored out of his mind. There’s only so much sleeping to be done in a day, though, and the exhaustion of the past year cannot be made up so easily. He manages to talk them into going out without him, with promises of doing nothing more strenuous than some mild cooking. He meant it, truly, but he's interrupted halfway through preparing some of their favorite foods. His communicator beeps, sending his heart racing. “Aqualad.” He says into it as he hastily snatches it up, food forgotten.

“Nightwing.” Comes the response. “Hey A, how’s it hanging?”

Kaldur closes his eyes and exhales slowly. From Nightwing’s tone, there’s nothing wrong. No emergency. He rests his back against a wall and tries to draw the cool calm of the ocean into himself. Fails. “I am well.”

“Good. That’s good. We’re missing you up here.”

“So this is a social call?” He’s proud that he manages to keep his voice level and composed. There’s no need to get worked up if his team just wants to chat.

“Ummm…” The hesitance in Nightwing’s voice does nothing to help him relax. His own words to Roy, about having difficulty saying ‘no’, ring in his ears. “Actually. I was going to ask if you could help out a little? It’s just some back-end stuff, nothing strenuous.”

He really does have a problem saying no. He should work on that, one of these days.

Which is how Tula and Garth return home to find him watching a backlog of video surveillance feeds. Tula crosses her arms and fixes him with a stern look. “And just how is that ‘taking a break’?” Garth comes over and kisses his cheek, wrapping his arms around Kaldur’s shoulders.

Kaldur pauses the video and sets the tablet aside. “It is far more restful than going on missions. And might I mention, I have done essentially nothing for the past two days?”

“Hmph.”

“Nightwing asked you, didn’t he?.”

Garth knows him too well.

“He’s a bit overwhelmed.” Kaldur explains. “They’re monitoring several locations, and while the Watchtower’s algorithms are good at flagging potential sensitive data, an actual person still needs to go over the video.”

“Okay, but why you?” Garth asks. His words tickle Kaldur’s gills, and he shifts around so that Garth’s no longer speaking right into his neck. “There’s a billion other people he could have outsourced that task to.”

“The League does not have a billion members,” Kaldur retorts on automatic, and frowns at the look Tula and Garth exchange. “What is it?”

“How long will it take to finish whatever Nightwing has asked you to do?” Tula wants to know. “We had, well, plans. But if this is going to take a while…”

Kaldur blinks, glances at the tablet, then back at Tula. “Plans?”

“A surprise.” Tula smiles at him, and Kaldur’s heart thumps an extra beat, remembering their promise of a few days ago. “But not one that allows for work.”

Garth kisses his ear, which does nothing to help him keep a hold on his composure. “It will be a couple of days before the surprise is ready.”

“Just what sort of surprise is it?”

“Hardly any sort if we tell you, silly.”

---

Finishing up the video logs takes a few days. Putting together a concise report another. Once it’s done he sends it off to Nightwing immediately. He half considers Garth’s comment about a consulting fee, but ultimately dismisses it as rude.

He does silence his communicator for Nightwing.

That project done, and with whatever plans Garth and Tula are forming not ready yet, he doesn’t have an excuse anymore to put off seeing his parents.

His limbs feel like lead the entire trip there. His parents would have certainly heard of his ‘betrayal’ long before now. He’s not really looking forward to hearing their opinions on how he’s spent the past year. He makes himself go anyway.

His father envelopes him in a hug before he even crosses the threshold into their home. “My boy,” is all he gets out, all hoarse and strangled, like seaweed has choked up his throat. Kaldur returns the hold, not quite shaking but close to it.

Another set of arms close around him - mother. “Kaldur’ahm.” Her voice wavers.

“I’m home.” He whispers.

---

As usual, he leaves his parents’ place with a full stomach, a bounty of food, and a lighter heart.

---

Tula is entranced by something when he arrives home. She does not greet him or even glance at him as he puts away his parents’ cooking, and does not move as he comes up behind her. “Weather patterns? In the Pacific?”

Tula jumps and gasps and Kaldur kicks back just a little to give her space. “Kaldur! I didn’t realize you were back.”

“I have been for a few minutes.”

“Huh!” She hastily grabs the tablet that had been sent floating away when she jumped and turns the screen off. “You’re going to ruin your surprise that way, you know.”

“Hmm. Is it perhaps a trip somewhere?” He clasps his hands behind him, clearly unable to grab the tablet and gather more details.

“Maybe,” she allows. “How’re your parents?”

“Good. They say hello and sent enough food to feed a small army.”

“Excellent, we’ll be fed for, oh, an hour.” Tula grins and kicks forward to kiss him lightly. “Is that okay, if it's a trip somewhere? Or we could stay here at home. Whichever you like better.”

“As long as it is with the two of you.”

Tula grins and tosses her head. “Trying to flatter me to get more details, are you? Well, it won't work.”

He brings his head in close, to nuzzle against her cheek. “I thought, maybe if I asked really nicely.” She gasps when he gives her ear a soft nibble.

“Kal…” Her hands come up to rest on his shoulders. “I'm well trained in withstanding interrogation, you know.”

“Hmm.” He pulls back to look at her. Her eyes are sparkling, playful, like the light tone in her voice. He unclasps his hands to pull her body flush against his. “I’m told I can be very persuasive.”

“Oh my. And who told you that?”

“This redhead I know. Goes by Aquagirl sometimes. Hangs out with Tempest and Aqualad. Maybe you know her?”

Tula places a hand on her chest, faking shock. “You have another redhead? Wow, Kaldur. Maybe I should be the one getting you to talk.”

“You could try.”

---

He doesn't actually manage to get more details, which is perfectly fine. He does get the chance to show off just how rested he is.

---

“You two didn’t wait for me.” Garth whines. Kaldur doesn’t even crack open an eye, just reaches out and grabs Garth and yanks him close.

“Then next time get home sooner.” He tells him.

---

“Oh, wow.” Kaldur shields his eyes against the glare of the sun off the water. Up ahead, there’s a pristine beach, with a forest full of various flowering plants beyond the sand dunes. Off to the side a cliff rises, with deep enough water clear of dangerous rocks to make for good diving.

“The place is uninhabited, by the way. Too small for people to bother with.” Tula says. “Good surprise, huh?”

“Yes.” His feet tickle, and he looks down. A crab crawls across his toes and away, and he can see the tiny divots it leaves in the sand under the waist deep water. “How did you ever find this place?”

“Luck.” Garth steps over the crab and close to Kaldur. “Got lost on my way home from a mission, one time. Found this place. Rested here for a bit before actually going home.”

“How did you get lost?”

“Oh, that’s a good one.” Tula comments with a laugh, moving onward to the beach.

“I was… drugged. During that mission. It had not quite worn off by the end of it, but I just wanted to go home. I could walk and swim well enough again, but my sense of direction, well. That was still a bit shot.”

Kaldur snorts. “Didn’t keep up with your jellyfish toxin resistance, did you?”

“Nope!” Garth grins at him like it was some bit of childish foolishness that he’d been involved in, and then waggles his eyebrows. Kaldur can’t figure out why Garth thinks that’s enticing. Probably because every time, Kaldur winds up kissing him.

This time’s no different.

“Never built up a resistance to you either.” Garth adds as the kiss breaks, murmuring it against his lips. “You hungry or anything? We did have a long swim out here.”

“Not really.” Kaldur smiles and drapes his arms over Garth’s shoulders. “I’m feeling rather well rested, actually.”

“Ah?”

“Mhm. And the two of you have promise to keep, doesn’t you?”

“Indeed.” Garth smiles broadly and kisses him again.

---

It’s a good, long, tiring two weeks before they return to their home in Atlantis.

---

Work has piled up in their absence. Tula has to go back to it almost immediately, as a specialist for the Atlantean military, while Garth gets to ease his way back into his teaching duties at the Conservatory of Sorcery.

Kaldur, on the other hand, had made his work mainly with the team. Beyond taking over most of the daily chores, there’s little lined up for him to do. Toying with his communicator, he thinks about unsilencing it. About asking if Nightwing needs more lighter backend work done. But that would probably make Roy upset with him.

Speaking of -

“You actually called.” Roy’s sounds pleased. In the background, he can distantly hear Lian laughing.

“I did promise, Roy.”

“You also once promised me that you didn’t eat fish.”

Kaldur laughs. “All I had said was that it was not in my diet. Which was true at the time.”

“... I do not believe you. I refuse to believe that you, of all people, go on diets.”

“Not like what you mean.”

“Please explain.”

“Ah, it has to do with building drug resistances. Eating fish interacts badly with the treatments, but it’s only something to avoid for a week before and after. And the treatment only has to be updated every few years.”

“You -”

“It is not my fault you took that as a long-term literal thing. As if I’d survive on kelp alone for long.”

“You aren’t fucking with me, are you?”

“Not in the least. Most people don’t keep up with it after their stint in the military.”

“Well shit. Okay. Tell me next time you and Tula and Garth are doing that, so I don’t accidentally poison you three or whatever.”

“So long as it’s not accidental.”

“Hilarious. How’re your better halves doing? They aren’t letting you overwork yourself, are they?”

“They are doing well. And it's quite the opposite. I’ve actually discovered retirement is rather boring.”

Roy cackles. “Well, you are always welcome to babysit Lian if you get tired of being bored. And knowing you, you’ll probably find something to occupy your time soon enough.”

---

Sometimes, he wishes Roy wasn’t so good about being right in unexpected ways.

---

“So.” Tula sits sandwiched between the two of them, her fingers intertwined with his and Garth’s into one big knot. “So.”

“You know we’ve got your back, whatever you decide.”

Tula’s grip tightens painfully. “Yeah, I know that. But it’s also not the same as you wanting to go through with this. I don’t want there to be resentment, or whatever, later.”

Kaldur carefully extracts a hand from the pile and wraps an arm over her shoulders. “I want you to be happy,” and he’s expecting the way she looks at him with narrowed suspicious eyes. Yes, the final decision is hers in the end, but just reiterating that when she’s asked for their input is the easy way out. That doesn’t mean it’s not difficult to put his feelings into words. “And … I think - no, I would like this. Now, or later, whichever. But, to be honest, I’m kind of terrified.” A lot terrified. But he's been terrified and out of his depth before. He'll survive. “And I’d still be happy, here, with the two of you, if you decided you never wanted this, Tula.”

“Won’t this affect your work, though?” Garth asks.

“Mm.” She relaxes her fingers some. “A little bit? A good seventy percent of what I do is focused on either tactical use of the mystic arts, or paperwork. That wouldn’t need to change for months. I would have to put aside working with the team much sooner in comparison.”

“Are you okay with that?”

“I… think so.”

Kaldur squeezes her shoulder gently. “You don’t have to go through with it right now. We can always come back to this.”

“True. But the work we do with the team, as vigilantes, is dangerous. Very dangerous. If we wait, and then something happens to one of you… or both of you… I…” Her voice chokes up.

“Don’t think like that.” Garth leans in, resting his forehead against hers. “You don’t want us to resent anything. We don’t want you to, either. Don’t use that to talk yourself into this.”

“I’m not talking myself into anything. Just…” Tula sighs and shakes her head. “You haven’t said what you want.”

Garth makes a face and sits back. “I… don’t know? Kids have never been something I’ve strongly wanted or not wanted? Honest.”

“Well then.” Tula looks at the two of them. “I do want kids. Or a kid. I don’t know about more than one. As for now… hm. The world is relatively at peace for the moment. And all three of us here, together. So why not now?”

“You’re sure?”

“Mm. I mean, if I wasn’t already, well. Then it’d be different?”

“We’ll need a bigger place, then.”

---

Between finding a new place, getting co-opted into rescue efforts for ocean-related disasters (he remembers once complaining of boredom - he will not jinx himself that way again), consulting with Aquaman on what he’d learned of Black Manta’s operations, the months fly by. He never manages to get a hold of Roy long enough to tell him the news, because every time he tries something comes up on one of their ends. He supposes he could relay the news via the team, but this wasn’t something he wanted Roy to find out about second-hand.

He honestly, truly, did not mean to leave it for so long.

---

Small. So small. Had he ever been that small? Kaldur supposes he must have been, at one point, but he cannot even begin to imagine such a thing. And yet, here, small enough to easily fit into the crook of Tula’s arms, are his kids. Tula’s and Garth’s and his.

He traces a finger down one of their cheeks, barely daring to touch them. “Wow. Oh, wow.” Tula grins at him.

“Come on, Kal. They won’t break.” Carefully, she shifts one over into his arms. A moment later, Garth’s holding the other. “See?”

“It’s just. They’re so small.” Garth says, echoing Kaldur’s thoughts.

“Average sized for twins, actually, the healer said.” Tula says, drifting back down to rest. “They’ve got your gills, Kaldur.”

“Yes.” Kaldur smiles down at the infant - theirs, Neptune, he can’t get over that - in his arms. “Think they’ll have Garth’s eyes?” Right now their irises are as dark as the ocean deeps. It will be a few days before color settles in.

“Beautiful, no matter what.” Garth curls up between Tula and Kaldur. “Now we really need to decide on names, huh?”

“For sure. And find time to -” Kaldur begins, and then freezes with a sudden, horrifying realization.

“What is it?”

Kaldur looks from Tula to Garth back to Tula. “I forgot to tell Roy about any of this.” He’s a dead man. Roy’s going to find a way to murder him via comm.

Tula and Garth exchange a glance, then look back at him. “Well, I highly doubt he will actually murder you,” Garth says dryly. Kaldur closes his mouth with a click as he realizes he’d said those words out loud. “Would be rather hard for him to meet these two, if he did.”

“Mm. Why don’t you go ahead and call him?” She shushes him when he starts to protest, taking the infant back from him. “Bring the tablet in here so he can meet them.”

---

“You what?!” Roy yelps, and Kaldur’s glad he decided to break the news away from where Tula’s resting. “You’re shitting me. No, no, you don’t pull crap like that. You’re fucking serious? Oh my god you’re fucking serious.”

It’s kind of hilarious that Roy’s in more denial over this than he ever was.

“I’m very serious.” Kaldur replies, not bothering to hide the smile that won’t go away. “I… might be longer than I thought, returning to the team.”

“If you return one millisecond earlier than you absolutely must -”

“I have zero intention of doing so. The team, and the work they do, is important. But this is more so.” Kaldur interrupts. “Also, Tula would strangle me.”

“No she wouldn’t.” Roy snorts. “But I would help, if she did.”

“I don’t doubt it. Now, do you want to see them?”

“Fuck yes, how could you even think otherwise?”

---

For all that he’s thousands of miles away, Roy is appropriately mesmerized by the babies, leaning forward as if that’d make the picture bigger. “Wow. From being team-dad to being an actual dad. I’m impressed.”

Kaldur glances sidelong at the screen and smirks. He can almost see Roy’s dawning realization of the opening he left in slow motion. “Hi impressed, I’m Kaldur.”

“I regret ever introducing you to memes.”

---

“How have you three not decided on names yet? Fucking shit.”

“Language.”

“Garth they are too small to understand -”

“Between the three of us, we’ve got… what, four different naming traditions? It’s hard to find names that hit the important parts and sound nice.”

“I bet you guys end up with at least one water-themed name.”

“Just because we’re Atlantean -”

“And go by Aqualad and Aquagirl and Tempest.”

“Okay, Speedy.”

“… That was a low blow. See if I impart any parenting experience to you.”

“They have like, six grandparents. Lots of readily available advice.”

“You know the team will adopt them on sight. They already did with Lian.”

“I’m sure they will.”

---

La’gaan visits and scolds them for keeping this to himself and immediately calls M’gann to share the news. He can hear M’gann shriek over the call from the next room, and Kaldur winces at the volume.

“That’s … a rather long time.” Nightwing comments on it maybe taking two years before visiting the surface with kids would be an option. He can hear the unstated criticism in Nightwing's words, the 'you were never meant to be gone that long’. It's difficult to silence the sour words he wants to give voice to. Tula squeezing his shoulder helps him refocus. Roy's firm response helps him let go of the sourness.

“Who is who’s?” Raquel asks, setting off a flurry of confusion.

“They are ours?” Garth responds slowly, unsure of exactly what he’s answering.

“What does she mean?” Tula whispers as Artemis attempts to clarify. “Aren’t there surfacers with more than two parents?”

Kaldur frowns, his brow wrinkling, pitting the question against everything he’s learned of the surface over the years. “My only guess is that this is not how they are used to things working.” He offers at last. “That, or our biology differs more than I thought.”

“Huh!” Artemis leans back, clearly intrigued by the idea, when Kaldur finally answers her in English. “We’ll have to compare notes sometime.” He hopes she’s not actually serious. He has incredibly little interest in the science she’s studying.

The call ends a few minutes with several promises to do better about staying in contact, and La’gaan himself leaves soon after.

“I don’t think we’re going to have a problem with babysitters,” Garth chuckles. “Ah, such a strong grip! You’re going to be a great fighter, yes you are.” He grins down at the baby he’s holding, who just blinks up at him with light purple eyes, absently holding onto one of Garth’s fingers. “Yes, little terrors, the scourges of the seven seas.”

Kaldur looks over and smiles fondly. For all of Garth’s ambivalence from months ago, he’s rarely not holding one of the babies. Tula has the other just now, ducking away to catch a nap. He wraps an arm across his shoulders and presses a kiss to his forehead. “Hopefully not for a few years.”

#young justice #kaldur'ahm #kaldur #aqualad #tula #garth #tempest #aquatrio #roy #(background) koy #cake and writing tag #('science doesn't work like that cake')#(yeah well people don't breathe underwater so there)#fanfic #fic #lizziegoneastray #rockscanfly

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