Ours
Title: Ours
Author: Wisia
Disclaimer: Own nothing from DC.
Rating: T
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Tim/Kon
Verse: 50+ Follow Prompts, Lazarus! Kon
Summary: Because there was a child they never knew they had.
Warnings: Mentions of cloning, burnt skin, etc.
Author’s Note: For thestalkerhermit who was okay with me combining her prompt into Lazarus!Kon. I feel a little guilty, bad-perverse for introducing a child to this verse. Because Kon and Tim are pretty messed up, and…Forgive me. OAO"
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A child. A small, extremely small to be practically tiny, child was following him. Trailing him on patrol. When Kon was with him. And Tim wasn’t sure what to do. Because that wasn’t a good thing. To have a kid following him. With Kon present. He could ignore the child but that would be heartless. Not to mention, something sparked within Tim’s chest. To know that this child was performing a repetition of what he had done all those years ago with Batman. It was flattering.
So in one easy swing, Tim brought himself to land near the child. With a soft swish so the child wouldn’t be frightened. But the child wasn’t frightened. Instead, the boy was smiling. Smiling at him.
“Mommy,” The boy said, and Tim had to stare. At the messy black hair, the blue eyes and just how much the child looked like Kon. And Tim continued to stare, unable to breathe, head reeling, spinning and whirling. Because that child was-
And Tim threw himself on the boy, shielding, protecting, charred skin scenting the air as Kon let out a terrifying wail. At his injury. By Kon’s eyes.
“I’m okay,” Tim heard himself said. He really was. Burnt skin could always be fixed. But the child? That couldn’t be so easily fixed, and he looked down at the child. So sweet, chubby cheeks and small. His child. Their child. And he might have fallen if he wasn’t down on the ground already.
The boy pressed himself against Tim, nuzzling his face in Tim’s chest.
“Mommy,” the boy said again in a happy whisper. Then Kon landed near them, cracking the pavement, eyeing the child.
“If he hurts you…”
And Tim realized what it looked like. That the child was like a miniature of Superboy Prime.
“No, he didn’t,” he said, and he clutched the child closer in his arms. Afraid. Of the red in the eyes and the child in his arms. More afraid that Kon would leave, that his possessiveness would evaporate as soon as he knew.
But Tim looked, and it was Kon that was afraid. That Tim didn’t want him anymore.
“Is he my replacement?” Kon asked. And the question grew and swell but Tim popped it easily.
“I want you, Kon. I couldn’t replace you. That’s why I put you in the pit.”
He picked up the child, cradling him in his arm, the one that wasn’t burnt. Slowly, cautiously, carefully, he stepped up to Kon. He shifted the child in his arm, for Kon to see. Then, “look. This is ours-do you understand that? Ours?”
And Kon stared too. For a long time. Silent. Studied the child from head to toe. The messy black hair and eyes like Kon. The boy too much a reminder of Superboy Prime.
“Ours?” Kon repeated. He reached out with an unsteady hand to touch the kid but dropped it. Shy and scared. The kid smiled, such a darling smile, and Tim could feel their child’s TTK reaching out, spreading to meet Kon’s.
Kon’s eyes widened but his TTK easily wrapped around them both, embracing in a phantom way, and the child’s TTK surged in response, smaller and weaker, but surging all the same to do the same.
“Ours,” Tim affirmed, voice strangled in his throat. At the presentation. At the feeling of being enclosed within two TTK fields. “I-I didn’t know. Before the pit, I tried-“
And the sweet child, their sweet child interrupted.
“Mommy made me, daddy.”
His Scent