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emperorsfoot · 1 year ago

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Fic Idea, FREE TO GOOD HOME!

(I was gonna throw this up here with no tags to ensure that no one would read it, might orphan later, idk)

Summary: Earth is not livable anymore. The plan was to just get the family off world and safe. Bruce was content to die in Gotham. Bruce wanted to die in Gotham. The family had other ideas.

When the ship became unusable, the plan changed to just getting them into the escape pod. Bruce was content to die alone on the ship. Bruce still wanted to die. Again, the family had other ideas.

Fic under the cut:

This was not the death Bruce planned for himself.

Sitting alone on an empty spaceship. The failed life-support making it a race between the freezing cold and the lack of oxygen to see which would kill him first.

Bruce planned to die in Gotham.

Ideally, Bruce would have liked to be gunned down in the same alley his parents died in. There was a kind of narrative symmetry to it. To end his story in the same way, in the same place it began. Like bookends. Batman was born from two bullets in a filthy alley, that was how he wanted to die.

With a grunt, Bruce gathered his blanket tighter around him. The quickly dropping temperature was going to win the race to kill him. Bruce already knew. After he sent Dick away with the others, there was no one left he needed to share air with. There might even be some breathable oxygen left long after Bruce’s frozen corpse was mummified by the ship’s dry air.

He glanced at his watch.

It wasn’t even one of the ones he liked. It was some fancy, artisan, luxury timepiece he only had because Brucie Wayne was expected to wear the hottest fashion items, and keep up with the trends. Bruce only took it with him because he was wearing it when Alfred knocked him out to make sure Bruce left Earth with the kids.

The watch was still set to Eastern Standard Time; it was still set to Gotham’s time.

In Gotham the time was a few minutes past 3:30 in the afternoon. Damian would be just getting out from school. Alfred would be sitting in traffic on his way to pick him up. Tim would be in his office at Wayne Enterprises, but his attention for work would be flagging and he’d be watching fan vids for whatever game was his new hyper-fixation on his office computer. Dick would be swinging by the clock tower with afternoon coffee for Barbara, maybe they’d make dinner together before Oracle parked herself in front of her monitor array and Nightwing hit the streets.

Bruce shivered and wondered what Alfred was doing right now. Without Damian to pick up from school. Or Tim to remind to eat and drink water. Or Bruce to… manage.

Alfred was supposed to be the one to escape with the family. Bruce planned to die in Gotham. Bruce wanted to die in Gotham.

He glanced at his watch again and waited for the freezing cold to take him. Bruce never really decided if he believed in an ‘afterlife’ or not, but if such a thing did exist, it would be nice to see his parents again.

…

When Bruce woke, he wondered if he was dead and there was an afterlife.

And it was boring!

He was enveloped in warm energy. Almost as if he were floating in a pool, except the pool was full of light not water. It seeped into his skin and chased away the hypothermia. He inhaled and his lungs filled with oxygen. The pain in his joints was almost gone and old injuries seemed not to bother him as much anymore.

But his parents weren’t there. Neither was Jason. If an afterlife were real, it should include them. If his afterlife had him alone, floating in a (admittedly comfortable) void, then Bruce did not want it. He would choose his own afterlife. One that did include Thomas and Martha, and Jason.

Bruce began to struggle, trying to propel himself somehow in this void of warm light.

Somewhere, on the other side of the light, someone said something in a language Bruce did not understand. Some exclamation of alarm.

“What’s happening? What’s wrong?” That sounded like Dick’s voice.

“It appears he has regained consciousness and is rejecting the healing matrix.” Answered the first voice, now speaking English.

“Ugh. Of course he is.” That sounded like Tim.

Were they just on the other side of the light? Could he get to them?

“May I have permission to sedate him?” Asked the unknown voice.

“Will it be safe for a human?” Dick asked.

At the exact same time that Tim very decisively barked, “Do it.”

Then everything went blank again.

…

When he woke again, Bruce was laying in a bed.

Soft plush sheets over a firm mattress. Luxurious in a way that conveyed wealth, very similar to what Bruce had in his own bedroom at Wayne Manor.

He stared up at the unfamiliar ceiling. Blue and white and glassy, like ice. Or crystal. Not any kind of architecture he was familiar with. An alien ceiling.

What fresh hell did he just wake up to?

No sooner had this question crossed his mind, then the door opened; the crystal of the wall sliding away.

Moving quickly, Bruce rolled out of the bed, placing the mattress between him and the door as cover. He peered over it to see what entered. What kind of captor was holding him?

It was Dick.

Dick walked through the door. Closely followed by Tim and Damian, and a small hovering robot of an alien design Bruce was unfamiliar with.

“I think he’s feeling better.” Dick laughed.

Bruce paused. If Dick felt safe enough to joke around… but then, Dick always could laugh down even the most dire of situation, Bruce looked to Tim and Damian for cues.

Their expressions were unreadable.

That’s not to say they were impassive or guarded, but that there was so much going on, on their faces that it was impossible to decipher.

Damian looked annoyed mostly, which was also his resting expression. But underneath that was a conflicted apprehension. Like he was waiting to learn the terrible price of Bruce being saved. Of all his children, Bruce assumed Damian would adjust to leaving Earth the fastest, since he was so young and (presumably) adaptable. But Damian cycled through so many emotions in their time in space that Bruce just did not know where his son landed in this situation.

Tim mostly looked satisfied. Also resigned and at peace, but mostly satisfied. He did something. Whatever it was, Tim got his desired result. Now he was prepared to face the outcome of that action.

The thing that was now strange about Tim were his clothes.

Since living on a spaceship for some time, they each at some point all gave up on both regular clothes and vigilante uniforms. All of them had been living in their pajamas for months. Bruce was used to seeing Tim in sweat shorts and an oversized tee-shirt. When the ship’s life-support failed and Bruce sent them away in the escape pod to the nearest planet, they were all wearing their uniforms. Tim had been wearing his Red Robin costume.

Now, Tim was dressed in a layered fabric, draped over a skintight body suit. On his chest, framed by the layered drapes of the fabric was a shield, like a triangle with two corners cut off to make it a pentagon. Filling the pentagonal shield was what looked remarkably like the letter S.

Calmer now, Bruce stood from behind the bed. “Brief me on the situation.”

Dick opened his mouth to begin his report.

But Tim was faster.

“Our status is overall positive.” Tim began. He was using his clinical detective voice, making him sound detached from the situation. Unaffected by it. No big deal.

Which told Bruce that whatever he’s woken up to, for Tim at least, it was a very big deal.

“This planet is called ‘Krypton’ -yes, like the noble gas- and it’s atmosphere is close enough to Earth’s that we can breath comfortably.” Tim continued. “The locals are also humanoid in appearance, nearly indistinguishable from us, actually. When we landed, the first responders thought we were some of their own and tried to help us.”

“They figured out real quick that we were aliens the moment we spoke.” Dick cut in. “Apparently, the whole planet speaks one language and the moment we started speaking English they realized we’re not from around here. Krypton has an isolationist policy. They’ve achieved space travel more advanced than our own, but they don’t even talk to their next closest neighbor in the same system. After they realized we were off-worlders there was kinda only a couple of guys left who were willing to help us.”

“But you don’t have to worry.” Tim said quickly. “I managed to cut a deal that would allow us to stay here, andwe were able to go back and save you.”

Bruce did not want to be saved. “Thanks.”

“Absurd!” Damian shouted. “They’re both being absurd! Father you have to stop this! Drake didn’t ‘cut a deal’, he sold himself!”

“What!?” Bruce’s eyes snapped back to Tim, giving his strange alien clothes a more critical examination.

“Damian!” Dick reprimanded. “He just woke up! Don’t confuse him!”

“It’s not confusing!” Damian continued to shout at all of them. “Drake bartered himself as a bride for that idiot-“

“You’re misrepresenting facts!” Tim cut him off. “And Kon-El’s not an idiot.” Back in that clinical and detached tone, Tim clarified: “I got married.”

Bruce just stared at him.

Tim placed a hand to the pentagonal shield on his chest. “Instead of wedding rings, people wear the glyph of the House they’ve married into- the, uh, family crest -this is pronounced ‘el’ which is their word for ‘star’, but spelled this way with an S in the middle instead of a figure-8, it also means ‘hope’, which is one of their virtues.”

Tim was giving too much unnecessary information because he was nervous, unsure of Bruce’s reaction to the news of his marriage.

There was a beat.

Bruce looked down at his watch to see what time it was in Gotham.

#fan fiction #renkonnairu #ao3 #bruce wayne #krypton survives #earth is gone #was gonna eventually become superbat #superbat

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fishfingersandjellybabies · 6 years ago

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A Miracle In The Family - brood au

Characters: Clark Kent, Jason Todd, Lois Lane, Diana Prince, Dick Grayson, various others Pairing: implied/past superbat Summary: Jason ran off after his birth mother, and was now in the hands of the Joker. Clark just hoped against hope he’d get to his boy in time. A/N: Obviously this AU’s take on Jason’s (not) death. He’s 14/15 here (and Dick is around 18, here’s the breakdown of years apart the kids are if you forgot like I did). I don’t remember all of the canon Jason dying storyline, so forgive how it’s probably all wrong regarding Jason’s ma. I tried to follow the kind of outline of this I made in the last chapter of ‘Whole’ but suck at everything so didn’t really. Sorry ending is bad and vague. Jason attempts to be Robin a little after this but I don’t think he sticks to it much/for long, and this is probably a bit of a lead-in into how Conner and Tim get into heroing.

Other Brood AU things.

Clark could kick himself. Wanted to, honestly. Wanted to straight up die, was the real truth.

Because he didn’t notice. Somehow, he didn’t fucking notice.

Didn’t notice the extra research Jason was doing. Didn’t think about how Jason was talking about his birth mother an awful lot all of the sudden.

Didn’t notice the Robin suit was missing until now. Didn’t notice that Jason wasn’t home in his room, that none of his siblings had any idea he was gone or where he was going. Until it might just be too fucking late.

“Just…” He breathed into the phone. “I…I don’t know. Get to the house. Stay at the house.” A tremor, in his own voice. “Don’t let Cass or any of the boys leave your sight, okay?”

“Okay.” Dick practically whispered. Clark could hear the car roaring down the road in the background. “I won’t, Dad. I’ll keep them safe. Just keep me in the loop, alright?”

“I’ll try.” He paused, as he began to follow a river, knew the river was the trail to Gotham. “But even if I don’t, no hero stuff, okay? No waltzing in to save the day. You get to Smallville and you stay in Smallville, got it?”

Dick hesitated, and Clark could almost hear him biting his lip.

“Okay?” Clark repeated. “Promise me, Dick.”

“Yeah, but Jason-”

“Promise me.” Clark nearly begged.

Dick sighed. “Call if you need help. Me, Diana, anyone. Jay’s already run off on his own – apparently. Last thing we need is you doing it, too.”

“I will.” Clark swore himself. “I’ve already given Lois a call too, and she’ll be there when she can be. Though the Daily will probably want to cover this as breaking news so…I’m not sure how soon that’ll be.”

“No problem.” Dick mumbled. “I’m almost there.”

“Good. I’m sorry I took you from work.” Another pause, and Clark could feel Dick’s own fear, even through the phone. He wondered if Dick could feel his too. “…I’ll bring him home, Dick. I swear on my life.”

“Okay.” Dick murmured childishly. “I’m about to the farm, and I think I can see Conner and Cassie outside, so I’m gonna go.”

“Okay.” Clark nodded to himself. “Love you.”

“Love you too, Dad.” Dick returned, a little too seriously for Clark’s liking. Though, right now, nothing was going to Clark’s liking.

Dick hung up without another word, and Clark absently shoved the phone back in his belt, returning all focus to the city appearing over the horizon ahead, and the boy within its walls that he would do anything not to lose.

“Hang on for me, Jay.” He prayed, pushing with all his strength to fly as fast as he could. Mostly to himself, to whatever god that was listening. But also into the communicator in his ear, that connected only to Robin. He couldn’t tell if Jason’s was on, if he had it, or if it had been destroyed. But he could have sworn he heard a ragged breath or two. “Please just hang on.”

The city was already abuzz with what little information anyone had. Televisions and electronic billboards were all broadcasting the grainy video and blurry stills that the Joker had released. Repeating the god-awful news.

The Joker had Robin. The Joker had already beaten Robin into the ground. Would continue to do so until he was bored, or until the little bird died, he’d declared with that hideous laugh. And no one would stop him, even if they wanted to. Because no one could.

People looked up at him as he flew overhead, but for once, he had to ignore them. Had to keep his focus, no playing up to the crowds today. Not when his boy needed him.

Not when his son might die.

He could see them talking, though. Whispering. They all put two and two together, knew Superman was here to try and save Robin.

He could see them all pitying him, too. Because none of them believed he would make it.

Poor Superman, they sighed to each other. Just wasting his breath. Try as he might, no one gets saved in Gotham. That’s just the facts.

He didn’t blame them for thinking so. Gotham was cruel. Heartbreakingly cruel. They were just realists.

But he couldn’t let that stop him. Never had before, and absolutely refused for this to be the first time.

So he took a deep breath. Deep and shuddering. He wanted to cry, but knew he couldn’t. Not until he found his boy.

He exhaled, and kept that focus, waded through the heartbeats he could hear, looking for that one. That one of seven he knew better than anyone else on this ridiculous human planet.

It took him too long. Longer than it ever had before. But eventually he found it. Slow and weak, but around the west side harbor. Sweet, stubborn Jason.

He blinked and he was there, the heartbeat growing louder in his ear every second. But not faster. Oh, no. The louder it got, the slower it seemed to become, and dread filled Clark’s soul.

And suddenly, there was a beep nearby. Somewhere in the warehouse complex.

Beep. Second. Beep. Second. Beep. Second.

Laughter. Terrible, screeching laughter. Not from the same place, but somewhere close.

And below it all: tears. Quiet, pained sobs. A quiet gasp of “Mom…”

Beep. Second. Beep. Second. Beep. Second.

He could hear it in his ear too. Tinny and soft through that communicator he hadn’t been sure was still on.

Clark’s whole world stopped.

A bomb. There was a bomb.

The warehouse doors didn’t stand a chance. He burst through them like they weren’t even there, not caring where the shrapnel landed. A woman shrieked, and for once in his life, Clark couldn’t care less.

Because…there!

There, across the room. Jason was sprawled on the ground in a pool of blood. He was barely conscious, but was trying to stand, trying to get onto his hands and knees, looking at a point across the room. But his obviously mangled hand kept slipping in the blood, and bouncing off the crowbar that had been dropped next to him.

The bomb was between him and Clark, and it read two seconds.

Clark didn’t think. Didn’t even breathe. Took off across the giant room as fast as he could, afraid that it still might not be fast enough. And even as he moved, he saw Jason’s mouth move. Bloody and bruised, he watched Jason as he continued to stare across the floor, and once again said, “Mom…!”

Oh yes, the woman. Jason’s mother. His real mother, the one who abandoned him too many years before.

The clock struck one second, and he still didn’t care about her. Only cared about the boy he still felt too far away from.

But he was Superman. He was supposed to save everyone. Even the bad guys.

And how would Jason react, if he left his mother behind?

But there was no time to think about it, so he ran on autopilot. He grabbed Robin, curled him up into his arm, and then he turned, jumped and grabbed the woman. She was tied to a post, and Clark didn’t bother attempting to be gentle as he ripped her out of the rope.

He was a foot away from the warehouse threshold when the bomb went off.

He threw the woman out of the building and to the side as the heat hit his back. Curled his whole body around Jason as they were knocked to the ground, covered him as the fires cried and raged around them.

“Mom.” Jason wheezed, even as he curled his bloody fingers into Clark’s uniform. “M-Mom…!”

Clark glanced up. Could see the woman hobbling to her feet a safe distance away, looking into the flames for them.

Or…or was she looking for a way to escape?

“She’s okay, Jay.” Clark whispered anyway, ducking his head back down, refusing to let even Jason’s hair be exposed to more pain and injury. “I got her out, too.”

“C-Clark.” Jason coughed, and even in the shadow, Clark could see tears cascading down Jason’s battered face. “D-D-Dad…”

“I’ve got you, baby.” Clark murmured himself, holding Jason as close as he could. And even as he said it, even as he kissed Jason’s temple, relief washed through his body.

Because he did. He got to him.

Just in the goddamn nick of time.

The initial explosion finally settled, and Clark felt that it was safe enough to move. Carefully, he stretched Jason across his arms, tried not to cringe at the pitiful wails of pain Jason gasped with every movement.

When Jason was finally settled against his chest, Clark stood and looked around.

Jason’s mother was gone, and not a single trace of her was left.

“Sorry.” Jason sobbed weakly. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Clark suddenly wondered who the apology was for. Himself, or the mother who had apparently just abandoned him again.

He remained on scene just long enough for Commissioner Jim Gordon and his police department to arrive. Not on purpose, but it took him that long to get a safe enough distance away from the wreckage, and to think of a plan. Head to the nearest hospital? The Fortress?

But after speaking briefly with Gordon, and informing him that he was taking Robin, he decided neither of them were good enough, and headed towards the closest transporter to the Watchtower.

Jason came in and out of consciousness the whole journey, but the blood never seemed to stop flowing. He was whiter than a sheet by the time he got him to the ICU, and Clark was terrified that he’d lose him before they could get a transfusion started.

So he didn’t let go of his hand. So small and cold, Clark clung to it as his fellow Leaguers rushed around him, setting up tubes and machines and needles. Jason whimpered and whined, but he couldn’t do much else. He didn’t have the energy or the strength.

And even as his friends got him situated, and on the path to stability, Clark couldn’t help but fear the worst. What if they lost him? What would any of them do if they lost him?

What would his kids do? God, what would he do?

He didn’t think he could take it. Jeez, look at how he dealt with losing Bruce, and that was just a disappearance, an assumed death. Here, he’d watch, first hand, Jason wither away.

It’d destroy him. Him and Lois and his entire family.

He stayed, even after his friends did everything they could. Even after they got the transfusions going, the monitors beeping and the injuries wrapped or otherwise taken care of. Sat there, holding his boy’s hand, wallowing in the possibilities of the next twenty-four hours.

So he didn’t hear the rap on the door, or the throat clearing. Didn’t react until he felt a hand on his shoulder and jerked up to find Diana staring sadly down at him.

“I called home for you.” She whispered. “Talked to Lois and Dick. Told them what’s happening.”

“Thank…” Clark coughed, his throat unknowingly dry and scratchy. “Thank you, Diana.”

She nodded. “Dick is beside himself, and wants to come up here right away. Lois was able to convince him to stay home with his remaining siblings until morning.” Diana frowned. “The children are all beside themselves.”

“No doubt.” Clark sighed, risking releasing Jason’s hand to run it down his face. He blinked in confusion though, as he felt the early signs of stubble on his chin. “Wha…?”

“You need a break.” Diana suggested gently. “I will sit with him while you go rest.”

“No, I need to be here. I need to stay with him.” Clark shook his head. He glanced out the nearby window, though, and frowned. The stars were in a different place than he thought they should have been. “…How long have we been here?”

“It has been about ten hours since you brought him up here.”

“Feels like it’s been twenty minutes…”

“Because you are exhausted.” Diana tugged softly on his arm. “You need your rest.”

“But…”

“I will come get you the moment he wakes, should he at all.” Diana promised. “Jason will never be alone. I swear that to you, Clark. Not even for a second.”

And he wanted to shake his head. He needed to stay. He couldn’t leave his son, not after almost losing him. Not after not even realizing he’d gone.

But he knew if he didn’t, Diana would force him. Lock him into their makeshift prison, use Kryptonite on him.

And…maybe she was right.

“Just next door.” Clark mumbled, reluctantly standing. He stood for a second, before leaning down and kissing Jason’s forehead. The boy didn’t move. He breathed via machine for now, and it didn’t take an inhale for him for another second. “And if anything…”

“I will get you.” Diana nodded, all but pushing him from the room. “Rest well, my friend, and know that we will do everything we can for him.”

Clark nodded wearily, shuffling to the next door. When he got into the room he stood there, staring down at the white, clean sheets. He hadn’t taken off his bloody uniform yet, and was too tired to do so now.

“…I’m sorry, Bruce.” He found himself whispering into the silence. The silence didn’t answer. He sighed, swallowed the lump in his throat, and laid down on the cot.

He awoke to another hand on his shoulder, and opened his eyes to find Dick staring down at him.

“Hey, Dad.” Dick whispered. He didn’t look much better than Clark felt, skin gray and dark circles under his eyes. He looked like he hadn’t slept. And Clark had to be honest with himself – his eldest probably didn’t.

“Dick…”

“You doing okay?” Dick asked as Clark sat up, stumbled to his feet.

“Fine. Tired, but…fine enough.” Clark mumbled as gathered Dick into his arms. Held him for just a moment. Relished in the feeling of Dick hugging him just as tightly. “Have you seen…”

“Yeah.” Dick croaked into Clark’s chest. “Lois is in there with Tim and Conner right now. Barry and Arthur are distracting Damian and Jon for the time being. Diana is helping Cassie process it all.” Dick sighed, leaned his weight against him. “I just…needed a break.”

“I know the feeling.” Clark mumbled into his eldest’s hair. Absently rubbed at his back. “I’m just…god, I’m just glad I made it in time.”

“Me too.” Dick agreed, leaning back. Clark couldn’t help but hold Dick’s cheek. He just looked so tired. So much older than his years. “…He looks terrible, Clark.”

“I know, son.” Clark nodded, that lump in his throat from before he slept still there. “I’m glad you didn’t see what I did when I found him.”

Silence.

“…Has anyone said anything?” Clark asked, gently turning Dick towards the door and leading him out. He heard Jon’s laughter before he saw them. Found his mouth twitching into a small smile as he watched Barry run around (at a human speed) with Jon on his back. Damian was sitting on a sofa nearby with Arthur, critically examining his trident. “Found anything out?”

Dick kept his frown, glancing towards the door of Jason’s room.

“Typical Joker things.” Dick mumbled. “…The mom was in on it.”

Clark froze. “What.”

“Jason’s mom.” Dick repeated, sounding just as bitter as Clark felt. “She was working with that bastard. Knew what the Joker had planned, more or less, and lured Jason there anyway. J’onn said her being tied to a pole was probably the Joker betraying her. Can’t say I’m surprised.”

Clark turned away, looked in through the window of Jason’s door. He still wasn’t conscious. Lois was holding his hand. Tim was holding the other one. Conner was at the window, staring angrily out into space.

“…I regret saving her.” Clark whispered furiously. “I’ve…I’ve never regretted saving anyone, not even Lex. But.” His fist tightened. “I will regret saving her until the day I die.”

Dick didn’t say anything to that. He didn’t act proud. But he sure didn’t act disappointed either.

“…He must have known.” Clark murmured thoughtfully, glancing at Dick when he heard Damian call his name. Watched Dick give him a tight smile and short wave. “Jason, when I found him. He…he had to have known.” Quieter, sadder. “…And he was still trying to save her, when I got there.”

Suddenly, Clark realized what Jason’s initial apologies were for.

Dick bit his lip. Closed his eyes and looked away. “…What are we going to do, Dad?”

“No, no. There is no ‘we’, Dick.” Clark pushed, turning towards Dick completely. “Nothing here is your responsibility.”

“He’s my brother.” Dick pushed back. “We share a room. I should have noticed something was up. I should have stopped him before any of this happened.”

“No, you shouldn’t have.” Clark shook his head. “Eight people live in that house total, and not a single one noticed. I didn’t notice. If this is anyone’s fault, Dick, it’s mine. Not yours. Never yours.”

Dick sniffed, wiped at his eyes.

“Besides, you did what you were supposed to, honey.” Clark put a hand on his shoulder. “You came when I called, and you took care of the rest of the kids.”

Dick turned back to look into Jason’s hospital room himself. He didn’t gasp, or break down, the tears just silently started pouring down his face. Clark did the only thing he could. Just pulled Dick back into his arms, and held him as tight as he could as he sobbed into his neck.

“What if he doesn’t make it?” Dick wailed. “God, Clark. Dad, what if we lose him?”

“Don’t think like that, sweetheart.” Clark whispered, holding the back of his head. “Please, don’t. Just have faith in your brother, okay? Jason’s a tough kid. If anyone can make it through this, it’s our Jay.”

Dick gave a little hiccup, and tried to nod. Clark just held him. He glanced over once, saw both Diana and Arthur watching them sadly.

But with Arthur distracted, Damian made his escape. Hopped from the couch they were on and came running at them. Didn’t say anything when he reached them, just latched on to Dick’s waist.

After a moment, Clark released his eldest, turning to his second youngest. “Hey, baby. Can you do me a favor?”

Damian didn’t let go of Dick, but glanced up curiously.

“Take Dickie over to Uncle Arthur, okay?” He asked. “And how about you tell him what Uncle Arthur taught you about Atlantis and the trident.”

Damian nodded, and shifted only to take Dick’s hand and drag him away. They didn’t make it to Arthur, before Cassandra appeared too, giving Dick just as big a hug as Damian and Clark had.

Clark smiled, just a little. His kids were so smart.

He waited long enough to watch Diana lead them all back to Arthur, and all of them pile onto the sofa, before turning and entering Jason’s room.

Lois looked up at the sound of the door. Tim glanced at him for just a second. Conner didn’t move from the window.

Silently, he walked around the bed, pecking Conner’s temple before wrapping a loose arm around Tim’s shoulders, rubbing at his arm.

Jason was unchanged. Still pale, covered in wires, but worst of all, unconscious.

“How soon until he can come home?” Tim asked quietly. It was naïve, but so innocent it broke Clark’s heart.

“I don’t know, Tim.” Clark whispered. “I just don’t know.”

“Boys, can you go make sure Jon and Damian aren’t driving the League out of their minds?” Lois asked politely, standing from her chair. Tim nodded almost gratefully, like he was looking for a reason to escape the room. Clark didn’t blame him. Jason was a soul-crushing sight.

He shrugged off Clark’s hand, then turned and tugged Conner’s elbow until the other moved. They disappeared silently.

Lois waited until the door was closed before looking back at Clark. She studied him for a moment, then tilted her head.

“How you doing, Smallville?”

“I feel like he looks, if that makes sense.” Clark murmured. “I just…I want to fix it. I want to fix everything. I’m Superman, I’m supposed to. But…I don’t know how.”

“Clark, you’re not a doctor. You know you can’t.” Lois offered. “The best you can do is be there for him, like you always have been. Be there for him and the other kids.”

“How am I supposed to be there for all of them if I’m barely dealing with it myself?” Clark whispered sadly, running a hand through his hair. He didn’t realize how greasy it was until now. “God, Dick just broke down in my arms because he thinks Jason’s gonna die. I can already tell Conner’s going to bottle this all up until he explodes. Tim looks like he’s aged one hundred years since yesterday, and I don’t even want to know how this will affect Cass and the babies.”

“I’ll help you where I can.” Lois smiled. “And while you’re there for the kids, I’ll be there for you. So will the whole Justice League and your parents and your friends at the Daily.”

“I appreciate that, Lois. Thank you.” Clark sighed, hooked his fingers around Jason’s. They were still so cold. “…God, Bruce would hate me for this.”

Lois’s comforting demeanor dropped immediately. “Clark…”

“And I wouldn’t blame him.” Clark woed. “Christ, he left his kids with me because he thought I could protect them, and here I almost got one killed.”

“At least you were there. At least you got to him in time.” Lois countered. “And like you said, he left them. He’s not the one here at his son’s bedside. You are.”

“He’s dead, Lois.” Clark reminded. “He’d absolutely be here if he wasn’t. Hell, Jason wouldn’t have ever gotten the opportunity to run off if Bruce was still able to raise him.”

“My point is, don’t do this to yourself, Clark. The what-ifs and thinking about Bruce isn’t going to help.” Lois tried. “You don’t need it, and neither does Jason.”

Clark sighed, and glanced out the door. Zatanna was there now, distracting Conner, Cass and Damian with magic tricks. Diana’s protégé Donna had appeared now too, and was sitting where Arthur had been, Dick leaned exhaustedly against her neck as she hugged him, smiling at Jon on his lap. Tim sat next to Dick, half leaning against his brother while teasing to tickle Jon at the same time.

Then he looked back down at Jason. Comatose and half-dead. A shell of himself.

“What do we do now, Lo?” Clark whispered.

Lois sat back down, retook Jason’s fingers for her own. “Now we wait.”

Clark sighed as he sat down, inhaling the steam from his fresh mug of coffee. Smiled softly at Dick in the chair next to him, long asleep from before he even arrived. But the love for his brother was still palpable in the air, even if you didn’t notice the almost-actually-beard stubble on his face.

He’d been against the idea at first. Dick, trying to start out on his own as a young adult, taking a leave of absence from his job to stay at the Watchtower with Jason 24/7. That wasn’t Dick’s job, that was Clark’s.

But now he appreciated it. Appreciated the little shop in Smallville who employed his eldest for now. When he gave them the vague story, they’d immediately said to take as much time as he needed. Even mailed treats to the house, and started a tip-jar fundraiser for Jason’s (non-existent) medical expenses.

People were still good, despite where he was right now, and that was always a nice thought to remember.

He blew on the steam from his coffee and looked at Jason as he sat down. It’d been about two weeks now, since he’d found his boy in the nick of time and brought him to the Watchtower to heal. Two weeks since he’d fallen into a coma. Two weeks of waiting.

It all hurt a little less now. Mostly because nothing had changed. Sure, in the days after, Clark found the Joker and threw him in prison. But much like always with Bruce too, the bastard escaped and went underground. And Clark had bigger things to worry about right now than uselessly chasing him around a city that wasn’t his.

But after that, it was this. It was Dick sitting up here alone most of the time, give or take what ever League members were on the Watchtower, then Clark joining him whenever he could leave the office, or write his articles remotely. With Lois offering to stay with the others in Smallville, he slept here, with Dick at Jason’s side, then returned to the office the next morning.

The children came to visit often, even when they weren’t supposed to, but Dick being up here so much was bad enough. He wasn’t going to let the younger ones waste away up here too, even though they all desperately wished to.

Otherwise, this was it. A fresh cup of something hot, a book or documentary to watch, machines beeping, and this boring, ugly, gray room.

Every. Single. Day.

So today wouldn’t be any different. Today, he shouldn’t expect anything to be any different.

Except, apparently, it was.

He was sitting there reading, had already tuned out all sounds. Tuned his powers to listen only to the sounds of heartbeats. Of the slow, steadying breathing of Dick and Jason. Calming, for the most part.

So he missed the quiet groan. Missed the little word, almost, just assumed it was Dick talking in his sleep.

But he sure didn’t miss that second time.

“…Dad…?”

He was on his feet so fast, the chair he shoved backwards was embedded into the wall behind it, the mug sitting on the arm shattered amongst the wires lining the floor.

Jason’s eyes were barely open, and even struggling that as Clark gently put a hand on his face. It took him a good five seconds to find the strength to raise his eyes and meet Clark’s already tearful gaze.

“Whu happened…?” Jason slurred. “W’ere are we?”

“In the Watchtower.” Clark whispered, running his other hand over Jason’s greasy, shaggy hair. “Safe.”

Jason didn’t seem to actually understand anything he’d said. Just blinked slowly. A little too slowly, and Clark almost thought he was going back to sleep.

But then his gaze jerked back up, hazy and not completely there. “Joker?”

“He did this, yes.”

Jason’s eyes twitched around the room, even as he leaned into Clark’s hand still on his face. “…Mom?”

“Alive. I don’t know where.” Clark shook his head. Leaned his foot out and began softly, but urgently, tapping his foot against Dick’s shin. “She…ran off, when I got you both out.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Dick stirred, then. Grumbled a little, but sat up rubbing his eyes. It took him a second, about ten, to realize what was going on.

“Oh my god.” He was on his feet as fast as Clark had been, and practically pushed the elder out of the way to get to Jason himself, curling him protectively into his arms. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.”

Jason’s fingers twitched in an attempt to hug Dick back, but it was all still too new, and he was still too weak.

“Dick.” Clark murmured. “Careful.”

“Yeah.” And Dick was already crying. Already practically sobbing into Jason’s hair. “Yeah, I know.”

Clark gave them that moment. Let Dick smother for a minute or two more, then carefully pulled him back by his shoulder.

“You gonna make it?” Clark joked. Dick just laughed and wiped his eyes. “Go grab whoever’s on the station for me, please? Then call Lois if you could. Let her know what’s going on.”

Dick nodded, then gave Jason one last look, as if he’d be gone by the time Dick returned, then dashed out into the hall.

Clark watched after him for a moment, as he bound happily around the Watchtower, until he once again heard the tiny, weak voice.

“…Dad?”

Clark looked back, kept his own warm, relieved smile as he stepped back up to the side of the bed. Jason’s eyes were a little clearer now. A little sadder.

“Dad, I’m so sorry.”

Clark just nodded silently as he perched on the side of the bed and wrapped one arm carefully around Jason’s shoulders. Jason collapsed against his side just as J’onn appeared in the doorway and made a beeline for the medical equipment.

Clark didn’t respond to Jason. Just gently rubbed at his shoulder and gratefully kissed his head. Held him while J’onn began his examination.

It was over another month before Jason was released to even go recuperate at the farm. And even when he was, he was sent home with a laundry list of medications, physical therapy routines, and a calendar of when Justice Leaguers would be visiting for follow-ups.

But when he was released, the whole family went up to gather him. Tim, Conner and Cassie carried all his clothes and personal items, with Damian carrying a loose thing or two. Dick handled the medications. Even Lois went, and she volunteered to take all the paperwork, and threatened hell on everyone if even a single word on any of these charts was wrong.

Jon clung to Jason’s side from the moment they arrived at the Watchtower, and refused to leave it. Would whine and cry if anyone tried to pull his hand from Jason’s, and even trigged his previously-unused heat vision. So, they left him there, and he acted as Jason’s personal escort from satellite to horse stable.

They used the transporter, with Lois going before Jason to catch him on the other side, and Clark coming after. And even when they landed, Jon gleefully continued his duty, and was the one gently leading Jason across the dirt, back towards their home.

At one point, about halfway, Jason stopped, already exhausted. Jon waited patiently, staring off into the distance, waving at some birds flying overhead. Clark silently came up on Jason’s free side.

They’d already talked about it. Of course they had. What Jason had done, what he was looking for, what Clark came upon with only seconds left. They’d talked about it, and re-talked about it. They’d shouted and cried and apologized a thousand times over, and then some.

But still.

“Your family’s right here.” Clark reminded, putting a hand on Jason’s shoulder. “I know it’s a different story when it comes to biological parents and all that, but…don’t think you have to go looking for someone to love you. Not when you have all these people here who already do.”

Jason nodded, leaning into Clark’s side. “I know.” He smiled, then gave a little laugh. “Well, I know that now, anyway.”

A moment to just stare at their house, like they were a couple of old men.

“I love you, Dad.” Jason whispered. “Thanks for not giving up on me.”

Jason stepped forward again, and Jon jumped right to his side, already asking him if he was alright, that he could take another break if he wanted, that he’d bring him a burger from downtown if he wanted it, or his favorite cow from the pasture, who missed him a lot.

Clark smiled, watching the two go into the house. Then let out a long exhale and looked into the sky. Thought of Bruce, for just a moment. Thought longer about how truly lucky he was right now, in this moment.

“Never, Jay.” He promised. “Absolutely never.”

#clark kent #Jason Todd #dick grayson #superbat #(but not really)#brood au

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