always good to have friends who are at least 5 years older than you and friends who are at least 5 years younger than you. being the youngest person you know will make you feel like an inexperienced child who knows nothing of the world. being the oldest person you know will make you feel like the joker.
every time i see a 19 year old friend do something successful i can be comforted by the fact i also know people who are 35 and unemployed. nobody has to run on the same time and the world is beautiful.......
Steve gets a phone call in the middle of the night from an unexpected source.
ao3
Steve didn’t know how Batman got his phone number. Sure, the man had rescued him and Dick from a few kidnapping attempts, and there was that thing with Two-Face at the botanical gardens, but he’d never given the man his number. Unless he stole it from a police report. Regardless, he didn’t appreciate getting woken up in the middle of the night by Batman growling an address at him.
“And why do I need to go to crime alley?” He grumbled, already pulling on his pants and a sweatshirt that was probably his. He figured the caped crusader would have a good reason, even if it was annoying.
”There’s a child here. I trust you can deliver him safely to Wayne Manor.”
Steve was suddenly wide awake, growling back. “Did that little shit tell you to call me?” As soon as he got there, that kid was dead.
Batman took a second to reply, sounding more uncomfortable than Steve thought him capable. “He may have implied that you were the best person to handle this.”
”I’ll be there in ten.” He hung up without an ounce of remorse.
His Hawkins kids have given him heart attacks before. Nothing could really top finding himself in the backseat of the Beemer as Max sped towards an extra dimensional monster, but he’d been with them. The thought of Dick alone in crime alley , ending up in a situation where Batman had to step in…Steve was channeling his terror into fury.
Five minutes later, he was screeching to a halt behind the Batmobile.
“Where the hell is he?” He barked as he slammed the car door, scanning the dingy street for his charge. “Richard John Grayson, you better have an explanation for this.”
Batman held him back from the two small forms huddled on the hood of the, frankly, kick-ass car. “I think there’s been a misunderstanding.”
The kids turned around and Steve’s concern melted away. The unmasked child wasn’t Dick. Even in the dim streetlights, he knew that wasn’t his kid. For one, he was younger, probably even small than the boy had been a few years back when they met. He was pale too, with sunken cheeks stained with dirt and a few random scratches.
Steve must’ve scared him because he turned his eyes were blown wide with fear as he tucked himself closer to the Boy Wonder, using his cape as a shield.
“Bruce asked you to have me pick up an emergency foster placement.” He relaxed into the grip. After what happened with Dick, neither of them trusted the Gotham foster system to place a kid in a safe home, especially not one so noticeably traumatized. “You should’ve led with that. I thought Dick—“
Batman nodded, and, softer than Vicki Vale would ever believe, said, “His name is Jason Todd. He’s seven years old. Robin caught him trying to steal the tires off the Batmobile.”
“Bold little shit,” he laughed. “Has he eaten?” They could swing past a drive-thru on their way to the Manor.
”Robin got him Batburger before I called you.”
Probably not the best meal for a starving child, but it was about the same as what Steve would’ve given him. Though his Midwest sensibilities make him a Big Belly Burger fan. Besides, Alfred’s meal plan wouldn’t leave much room for fast food.
He took a deep breath to settle himself even further and made his way towards the boys.
“Hey, Robin,” he gave the masked kid a quick smile. “Heard you made a new friend.”
He lit up, pulling the smaller boy closer by an arm around his waist. “Yeah! This is Jason. He got three of the wheels off the Batmobile. I helped him get them back on in exchange for some food.”
“That’s great.” He waved to the new boy. “I’m Steve. Batman asked me if I could drive you to Bruce Wayne’s place.”
”How do you know Batman?” Jason scrunched his face up, showing what he thought of that association.
Steve opened his mouth to explain, only to be cut off by Robin. “He’s what Bats calls a ‘high profile target.’”
”Why is a driver a target?”
”Because I’m not a driver, I’m a babysitter for Bruce Wayne’s kid. When people want him, they usually have to get through me.” He smiled gently at Jason. “And now, he asked me to protect you.”
Robin nodded, “He knocked Two Face out with a baseball bat.”
Jason eyed him with a new form of awe. “What about Wayne? All I know is that he’s some rich bastard. How do I know he’s better than any other fosters?”
“Batman called us because we don’t trust the system. Richard Grayson had some bad experiences with it, and we’d all feel better knowing you were somewhere safe until we get this all sorted. I’m not gonna promise it’ll be perfect, B can be a bit ridiculous sometimes, but it’ll be safe.”
After a small smile from Robin, Jason took his hand and eased off the hood of the car. He grabbed the tire iron too, but Steve let him have that for protection.
Before they left, after he got Jason tucked into the back seat, Steve hurried over to Batman. “Hey, thanks for taking care of Jace. I might work for Wayne and the commish, but if you ever need anything, you have my number.”
Steve didn’t leave Jason’s room until he was positive the kid was asleep. Batman had claimed he was 7, but tucked into the full-size bed with Ace curled up beside him, he looked so small. It was hard to come to terms with all the pain and tragedy that had haunted his Hawkins kids, and Dick, before they had met. Jason was a whole other story; he was far too young, younger than all of them, and he’d been alone.
“Thank you,” Bruce spoke from the top of the stairs, startling Steve from his musings. “I know this was well outside the scope of your duty—“
Steve waved him off. He didn’t want Bruce worrying about his job description next time there was an emergency. “You needed help and Jason’s a sweet kid. I’m glad you called me.”
“No one better.” He smiled, focusing on Steve with his undivided attention. His gaze had a weight to it, like gravity pulling Steve further down the darkened hallway. “Alfred could’ve gone, but… you’re good with them.”
He understood where Bruce was coming from. While Steve would argue that Alfred was better in general, the butler could be a little intimidating. He’d been terrified when he met the true head of the Wayne household. Despite passing an incredibly thorough background check, Steve had felt like he was going to melt under the pressure of his expectations. For someone like Jace who wasn’t used to adults caring about him, it could have complicated the whole pick-up more than Steve’s mistake had.
“It’s just experience.” He soothed the new foster father. “You’ve been doing great with Dick.” He winced, a thought crossing his mind. “What are you planning on telling him? Is he okay with sharing his home?” The ‘and his dad’ went unsaid.
Bruce chuckled. “When I woke him up to tell him, he insisted on bringing Jason here. I think he just wants a little brother.”
That sounded like his kid. Steve couldn’t help a small smile at the idea pf these two boys being brothers.. He’d grown up in a big house, all alone except for the cleaning company that came every other week. It would be nice for Dick to have someone to keep him company, and he had so much love in his heart. “He’ll be a great brother, and Jason needs someone in his corner.”
”I might be calling on you more often.” He admitted, looking sheepish at the prospect of upping his hours. “It’ll be beneficial for Jason to have an adult he trusts around the house.”
“For stability, of course.” Steve had a feeling it wouldn’t just be for the boys. It would be easy to make the time for his favorite family. He only really had two regular clients, including the Waynes. Everything else was just one or two time gigs, and he was sure the commissioner would understand if Bruce needed him. “Just let me know when. I’ll smooth everything over with Gordon if there are any conflicts.” He started to head past him to the staircase, only to be stopped by a hand on his shoulders.
”It’s late.” Bruce nodded down the hall towards the family rooms. “Alfred’s had a room made up, stay the night.”
It wasn’t the first time he was staying over. He’d been watching Dick overnight whenever Bruce had a business trip. But there was something about staying in the family wing, being offered a place in the home that left Steve’s mouth dry.
He agreed. He had to. It’d be nice to see Jason in the morning, and when Bruce asked him like that, it was hard to say no.
The Batfam Babysitter Steve Harrington fic! Based on a post by @somebodyhelpthenotdeadfreds (X)
When Steve moved to Gotham, he thought he'd left his babysitting days behind him, but a chance encounter at Robin's fancy-work-mixer might be just the thing he needs to get his career off the ground.
ao3
If Steve knew that he’d end up in a fancy ballroom wearing a rented suit, he’d never have suggested that Robin apply for the Wayne internship. She was much happier spending her day translating documents than she had been reading up on psychology, and had even changed her major to match her new career. Her main focuses were Russian and Spanish, but her supervisor had encouraged her to start working on Chinese since Wayne had many business partners in Beijing. And of course, their brilliant new star had to get an invite to the end of quarter mixer.
Now, Steve was a waiter and had never worked an office job before, but he was pretty sure that the most end of quarter mixers didn’t take place in beautifully decorated museum ballrooms. At least the food was good. And apparently a little munchkin thought the same.
He watched as a small hand crept up from where the tablecloths overlapped, and swiped a chocolate covered strawberry. After a minute or so, it came back again, this time going for a fancy-cake-thing.
Steve took a look around the ballroom. He didn’t see any other children. It was a work party for one of the biggest companies in the world, and Wanye prided himself on not using child labor. Still, investigating sounded much more entertaining than trying to talk to Dilcia from finance again.
“The cake isn’t sweet at all. Someone must’ve swapped the real cake out for a boring treat to sabotage the party.” A young voice spoke in a hushed tone, though he was still easily heard over the low music. “The prime suspect is Mr. Bradley. He hates parties and always stands in the corners with the other boring people.”
”Or he’s so boring he doesn’t like the taste of real cake.” Steve placed a strawberry on a tiny plate and slid it under the table as an offering. “The real criminal is whoever picked the music.”
Instead of remaining hidden, a young boy popped up from the other side of the table, holding the gifted treat to prove his identity. He glared at him with narrowed, ice blue eyes, scanning him from head to toe. “I don’t know you.”
Steve had to hold back a laugh. This boy was adorable, younger than he’d ever seen his kids back in Hawkins, and smaller than even Will. He had fluffy black hair that was gelled to stay out of his eyes, but it had fallen during his journey under the table. He was trying so hard to be threatening, and coming off more like an aggrieved kitten.
“Sorry, my friend invited me to support, but she’s talking to some of her work buddies and left me alone. Figured the best use of my time was solving crime.”
The boy followed Steve’s finger to where Robin was hardcore flirting with a girl from Research and Development, Penny or Dolly or something with a -y. He studied them with the same intensity, before nodding and slipping back under the table.
The cloth by Steve’s feet was held up in invitation. “You’re allowed.”
He’d created a little nest for himself. Several tiny plates were spread around, covered in varying amounts of treats. Some had only crumbs, while others, like the cake, had only a bite removed. “I’m Steve by the way.”
”Dick.”
It probably said something about his kids back in Hawkins that Steve barely blinked at the insult. He’d been called much worse by Dustin. “Are you old enough to use that language?”
The boy rolled his eyes. “It’s my name, dummy! It’s not my fault English is weird.”
”Listen, I’ve been called worse.” Steve held up his hands in surrender.
Dick easily believed that, which hurt, but he seemed smart, so Steve wouldn’t hold it against him. “Alright, Mr. Bradley isn’t our guy, but can I trust you with our real mission for tonight?”
He rested a hand over his heart. “I swear I’ll do whatever you need, and I’ll tell no one.”
“Good.” He peeled back the tablecloth just enough for them to get a view of the ballroom. “Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to gather information on Oliver Queen.” He gestured at a blonde man with the most ridiculous beard Steve had ever seen. He looked like a cartoon character.
“What did Queen do?”
The boy pulled a supremely disgusted face. “He keeps being weird around B and acting like they’re friends, but B doesn’t have any friends. He’s been fostering me for months and the only people he talks to are our butler and his doctor.”
Steve had to hold in his laughter. This poor kid’s dad was getting roasted and couldn’t even defend himself. “Alright, boss, I’m going in. Meet back here in ten minutes?”
”Stay safe out there,” he said seriously as Steve slipped back out into the ballroom.
For all Steve’s experiences, he’d never been a great spy. It’s always been ‘don’t get caught or you’ll die.’ This was unique. He had to get close to Queen to report back to Dick. It wasn’t the end of the world this time, but he was still going to take it seriously.
He was lucky to find that Queen was at the bar. Channeling King Steve during Sophmore year, he siddled up next to the blond and ordered a drink. “So, come here often?”
Queen laughed, clearly shocked. “Does that line usually work?”
”I don’t know, I’ve never tried it before.” He smirked around the rim of his glass. “The point still stands that I haven’t seen you in Gotham.”
“No, I’m based out of Star. The host and I go way back, so I got an invite.”
Steve raised an eyebrow. “You came from California for a work party, for a company you don’t work for? That’s a long way to go just for a friend.” He smirked, leaning in closer. “Sure, you’re just friends.”
”I’m not one to spread gossip.” Queen’s flushed cheeks said differently. “Bruce and I just grew up around each other.”
“Childhood friends, a classic.” Thank you Robin and Family Video for teaching him about rom-com tropes.
Fed up with this back and forth, Queen took the initiative to lean in. “You know, for a kind stranger, you’re awfully curious about if I had flings with a man. Do you have something to ask?”
Steve flashed back to a different young man who had ignored his personal boundaries and set his heart racing with potential. He’d been so unsure about the feelings that had welled up in him, but Queen clearly didn’t care. He wasn’t teasing; he was clealy flirting, and Steve wanted to flirt back.
“Can I buy you a drink?”
“You were over there a long time.” Dick had come out from under the table and was stretching his legs by the wall. “Oliver Queen was giving you the same looks he gives B.”
Steve choked on the last of his drink. “Queen’s just a flirt. Apparently he grew up with one of the hosts. Bruce. I’m guessing that’s your ‘B.’”
Dick gave him a look that would’ve looked at home on Dustin’s face. Maybe all kids just looked the same when they thought you were stupid. “You have no clue who B is, do you? Do you even work for Wayne?”
”I’m a plus one!” He argued. “My best friend works as a translator.”
”She ditched you, didn’t she?” He nodded understandingly. “It’s okay. We’re having fun together.”
The brat shot him a completely genuine smile, bright and optimistic. Steve though he’d been desensitized to kid cuteness after years of Byers, but Dick really took the cake,
”Yeah, bud.” He gave him a quick high five. “We’ll make our own fun out of this boring party.”
Thankfully, Steve calling Queen a flirt ended that mission. Dick probably didn’t want to think about anyone having the hots for his dad. Steve didn’t mind. The blond lived too far away for them to really date anyway.
The rest of the night passed by spying on uptight old business people, stealing sweets, and, for one daring moment, repeatedly moving someone’s champagne. It beat spending it alone or trying to mingle with the other corporate drones that Robin worked with. She had good things to say about them all, but he doubted they’d be kind once they found out he was a barista, not a coworker.
“Guardian at 3 o’clock!” Dick whispered frantically, tucking himself behind Steve.
The ballroom was emptying out at this point, making it easy to spot a tall man making a beeline for their corner. If Queen was pretty, this man was beautiful. He was built like an old time movie star, the love interest from one of the black and white films Robin would put on in Family Video. His suit gave him a perfectly polished look, but his face was rugged, unlike the pencil pushers he and Dick had been following all night.
“Richard,” the man, B, began, attempting to step around Steve.
Without thinking, he countered him. “I’m sorry, there’s nobody here by that name.”
Dick ruined the moment with a giggle, but it also caused his father to relax, so it balanced itself out.
“Is there someone here by a different name?”
”Steve Harrington,” he introduced himself, figuring it was better for him to know the name of the grown man his son was playing with.
B smiled as he shook his hand, and fuck, it was devastating. “Bruce Wayne.”
Steve whipped around to face the little liar. “You didn’t tell me B was Bruce Wayne!”
”You never asked!” He defended himself, as though Steve should’ve known he was heir to the richest man in the city.
Bruce Wayne laughed at their antics. “Thank you, Mr. Harrington, for keeping my ward entertained. I’m sorry he kept certain details from you.”
”We were playing spies. It wouldn’t make sense to tell him everything.” Dick pouted, fully coming out from behind Steve. “Besides, if he really worked for you, he’d have recognized me.”
Steve blanched at him. This little traitor. “I’m not a party crasher, sir, Mr. Wayne. My roommate, Robin, brought me as her plus one. She said it was allowed.”
”That’s a shame. I’d be happy to have someone who’s so good with Richard on my team.”
“I don’t need a babysitter.”
Yeah, he was ignoring that. “Well, I used to work as a babysitter before I moved to Gotham. I thought about starting a business here, but it’s difficult to find clients.”
“If you pass your card along through your roommate, I’m sure there are people at WE who could use your services. I can already tell that you’re great with children.”
”B!” Dick shouted in protest, fed up at getting cut out of the conversation, “You’re making that weird face again.”
Steve watched as Wayne schooled his smile into something a little more plastic before setting his hands on his son’s shoulders. “Well, Mr. Harrington, I think it’s time I get Richard home. I hope you have a lovely rest of your evening.”
He stuttered his way through a proper goodbye, giving Dick one last fist bump as the pair disappeared into the remaining guests. He didn’t exactly have a business card yet, but he was sure as hell going to make one, as soon as he explained to Robin what the hell had just happened.
Since Clone!Buck lost the poll by the widest margin, but some people were really interested (looking at @ennieasys ). So I decided to post what I had so far. Idk if I'm going to move it over to ao3 yet since the actual plot is missing, but consider this the prologue!
Buck should’ve noticed something sooner.
He’d started working out once he left home. He was hitting the gym, cultivating a more active lifestyle. He surfed every morning when he was on the coast. He was moving heavy equipment in construction, breaking ground and hauling metal from one end of the yard to the other. Even as a bar back, he was easily lifting kegs to swap them out every night. In Montana he was tossing hay bales while barely breaking a sweat.
Sure he was benching around 300 easy, but that was normal. Right?
The house party was when it became obvious. He’d been getting…close? With a girl. She’d offered to take him upstairs to get even closer, and in the heat of the moment, he’d pulled the bedroom door off his hinges.
It wasn’t an impossible feat. He was sure he’d seen someone do it on YouTube, but those people had been trying. There was effort involved. Buck hadn’t even been trying and suddenly he had a door in his hands.
”Oh my god,” the girl, Eloise or something long for El, giggled, too drunk to be worried about the property damage. Buck should’ve been right there with her. He’d drunk more than her, but alcohol hadn’t been having the same effect recently. “You’re strong.”
She ran her hands over his biceps and pecs, pushing him towards the bed. Despite it being hard to focus on El-something when worrying about accidentally hurting her, he did his best to give her a good time, and then hurried out of the house before she could even think of reciprocating.
The next morning, he tried lifting the Jeep. It was difficult, but when he got the back a few feet off the ground, he decided he didn’t want to know what else he could do.
Everything Buck had learned about his powers happened against his will. After discovering his strength at the house party, he found his invulnerability after getting hit by a car, and his speed when someone tried to mug him. If there was anything else, he didn’t care. He wasn’t Superman or some meta human. He was just a guy who didn’t need anything else making him different.
He didn’t even tell Maddie. Not that a postcard would be the way to tell someone their brother was a freak. But still, if he didn’t want to know, there was no way he was going to tell someone else.
Thankfully, he wasn’t very accident prone for his first few months at the 118. There had been close calls, but anything that would require medical attention for a normal person happened when he was alone. Until he paired up with Hen.
They’d been helping a mother out of her burning house when a window broke free. He spun without thinking, taking the hit to the back to spare the woman any pain.
”Buck!” Hen shouted, rushing over to push the window away and help support the mother. “Just keep going.” She kept encouraging him their whole way out, giving him just as much of her focus as she gave the actual victim.
”I’m fine. It barely grazed me,” he tried to argue, but she was having none of it.
“A second story window just hit you in the spine. You need to get checked out.”
He knew she wasn’t going to leave it alone. He’d be the same if their places were reversed. With a deep sigh he shucked off his coat to give her access. “Just promise you won’t tell anyone.”
Carefully, she pushed up his shirt, running a hand over the unblemished skin. “How… I saw the hit…”
”I’m a meta.” It was the first time he’d ever said it aloud. He shut his eyes against whatever her reaction would be. Metas weren’t treated horribly, especially not after the Protection Act, but you never knew how someone would react.
”Oh Buck…” A gentle hand squeezed his shoulder. “They’re not going to care. We love you.”
He wanted to believe her, desperately, but he cared. It had been a little over a year and with every new thing he discovered he just felt more inhuman. His parents must’ve sensed it, known somehow that he’d be this disgrace.
“Just give me time…it’s new.”
Her gaze hardened, not harshly, but with the protective glare she got when a patient had been treated poorly in the past. She nodded. “Take your time, Buck, and if you ever need to talk, I’m here for you.”
He smiled knowing he’d never take her up on that offer.
After the tsunami, the Diaz boys were a constant presence. It was everything Buck ever wanted, people who stayed and made him feel welcome, even though he was cut off from the rest of his found family. The only problem was, they’d notice. His crushed leg was an internal injury, with the healing kept at bay by the foreign materials in his leg, but the scrapes and bumps from the pier would be visible.
It had only been two days and already he was looking better, much better than he should've been looking. Telling Hen two years ago hadn’t been his choice, but it had been nice to have someone who was in on his secret and could usher him to the side when Chim or Bobby would’ve freaked out about him.
Beyond that, he actually wanted the Diaz boys to know. They’d become family and he wanted to share this part of himself with them.
The next morning, when Eddie came to drop off Chris, he brought them both inside. He stood before them while they sat on the couch and came clean. “The only other person who knows about this is Hen, so I’m trusting you with an important secret.”
Chris nodded seriously, though he wasn’t the one Buck was worried about.
“I’m a meta. It’s how I was able to find Chris and keep hold of him.” The water had messed him up, along with getting hit in the head, but when the water first hit, without his ears they could’ve been separated for good. “It also helps me heal fast, so if I don’t look injured by tomorrow, it’s normal.”
“You’re different!.” Chris beamed and grabbed at Eddie’s arm. “You’re like me and dad!”
”Dad and I,” Eddied hurried to correct. “And this is different, Buck has superpowers.”
Chris rolled his eyes. “We have superpowers too, Dad. If Buck’s telling the trust, we should too.”
The rug was pulled out from under him. He’d never pictured his confession ending like this. “You’re meta’s too?”
An unfamiliar feeling of elation and determination welled up in Buck as Chris screwed his eyes shut in concentration.
Eddie leapt to his feet, waving a hand that somehow removed the strange emotions. “Christopher, stop. We don’t do that without permission.”
Understanding dawned on him. “You’re empaths.” He smiled at his partner, remembering the one bright spot in a night he’d rather forget. “You kept me calm. When everyone was lifting the truck, you kept me from panicking.”
There was more to discuss with their secrets out in the open, but Buck did his best to project his own emotions as he told his boys, “Thank you.”
A dog driving a truck had been new. Buck thought it would be the most surprising thing to happen that day, until Mateo turned to TK and asked, “Did the dog say he was sorry?”
TK only laughed. “Nah, he was so stressed out he didn’t even realize he did it.”
Buck stared in confusion for a few moments before he figured it out. “Oh, you’re a meta too.”
”Uh yeah,” He shrugged. “It’s not really a big deal. My dad and I can talk to animals. It was just hard to hide when we got a station dog.”
”Don’t forget the thing with the bull.” Mateo chirped up. “Cap basically gave the poor guy therapy in the middle of a parking lot.”
”Well, I use my abilities every day and my team still hasn’t figured it out.” He shrugged with a forced casualness. He didn’t want TK to freak out over his friend accidentally putting him.
The friend in question hurried ahead so he could face Buck while walking. “You have powers too!”
Buck and TK shared a fond glance.
“I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve. I haven’t done any testing,” Despite Hen’s urging, “But it’s a lot of augmentation: senses, strength, durability, speed.”
”So the car?” TK asked.
“That would’ve given me a pretty good scratch, but it wouldn’t do any real damage.” He smiled at the other two. “I still appreciate the save. The dog could’ve gotten really hurt, and if I’d taken the hit in front of everyone…”
Surprisingly, it was Mateo who nodded sagely and finished, “They’d all know.”
”Don’t worry too much. If anything happens, the 126’ll have your back.” TK reassured him.
Buck hadn’t anticipated needing that assurance, but with Bobby missing and those words filling his mind, he didn’t hesitate to refocus his eyes. He tapped into his abilities, watching as the world flipped from fire to a cool blue. The forms of his companions swarmed around the downed chopper, but there was no one inside.
“They’re not here,” he called out, and began scanning the horizon.
“How the hell do you know that?” Judd asked, coming up behind him.
With a quick glance, Buck answered, “Same way I know you’re wearing boxers with little peppers on them.”
”I believe him,” Marjan laughed, patting him on the shoulders.
Judd nodded and took back command, utterly unashamed about what had been revealed. “Alright Buckley, keep using your freaky eyes. Let’s go find our men.”
“You have x-ray vision!” Mateo was gushing as he bounced around him. “Can you fly too? You sound more like Superman than a meta human.”
Buck raised an eyebrow. “I’m not an alien. Just a meta with multiple powers.”
He hummed thoughtfully, calming down considerably. “Most metas don’t have a ton of powers, any additional abilities are usually supportive. Your augmentations, they all connect, but your senses, that’s something new, especially with the x-ray vision. It sounds more like an alien.”
”Well I’ve got two human parents, so…” He didn’t know what to say to that.
”Yeah, and you don’t look enough like any hero to be a clone like Superboy. But hey,” he tried with a smile, “At least you don’t have to worry about Kryptonite.”
The boy in the picture was him. Maddie may have claimed it was someone else, but everything about them was practically identical. The only thing that separated them was his birthmark and the date on the back.
He tried to listen to Maddie, hear her out about their brother who died when Buck was too young to know him. But Mateo’s voice kept circling his brain. Another child wasn’t a guaranteed match, look at Maddie, and he couldn’t see his parents taking that chance. His father was connected. He still remembered sitting outside the office while his father took business calls, the low voice slipping under the door, helping Buck calm down when he was supposed to be asleep.
He left her apartment, the picture still clutched in his hand, and went straight to the source. He needed an answer, no matter how badly it would hurt.
”Evan, what a pleasant surprise,” His mother greeted him with a smile. It didn’t reach her eyes. It never did when she was smiling at him.
He forced his own, just as fake. “Maddie told me about Daniel. I had a few questions, if you have time to talk.”
She nodded and stepped aside.
”Oh, Evan, we weren’t expecting you.” At least his father was warming. He could almost pass as genuine.
”I need to know what really happened,” he started before he could lose his nerve. “You had me to get a match for Daniel. Wasn’t that a risk?”
The pretend kindness drained from both of his parents. His mother was cold as iron as she asked, “What do you mean a risk?”
”Nine months of pregnancy and I could’ve ended up having the wrong marrow. I know you had friends—“
”Just ask, Evan.”
He took a breath and closed his eyes. “Did you clone Daniel?”
”Yes,” she admitted easily. “A friend of ours worked for a subsidiary of LexCorp. They were experimenting with cloning and had progressed to human trials. It’s all very top secret, but they needed volunteers.”
”And you figured that it could save your son.” He couldn’t fault them, not for that. Their son had been dying. Buck remembered losing Chris to the waves. He’d been so desperate to have him safe in his arms again. No, he couldn’t fault them for taking every chance they had.
”You weren’t an exact clone,” Margaret continued. He didn’t know if he could call him his mother anymore. “Since they were concerned about you developing leukemia as well, they combined his DNA with another source.”
”Do you know who?”
She shook her head. “They never said, and we never asked.”
Buck nodded. “I’m sorry it didn’t work. Thank you for not giving me up or sending me back after.”
“We couldn’t.”
For one heart stopping moment, Buck expected his father to say that they loved him, that he was still their son. Or at least that they recognized the cruelty of throwing him away like he was defective.
And then Philip said. “You look just like him.”
”Thank you for being honest. It was a nice change” He stood up, eager to get out of there. “We don’t have to keep doing this. Just tell me the name of the lab and we can end this whole charade.”
Phillip opened his mouth, probably to say something else horribly misguided, but Margaret cut him off with a firm nod. They’d never actually seen him as their son, and outside of getting along for Maddie, this would give everyone a clean break.
”It was called Cadmus. Our friend was Dr. Carl Packard. We lost contact after Daniel, but he’ll have more information if you’d like.”
He nodded and left the hotel room without looking back.
“Thanks for meeting me.” A tall blonde man took the seat opposite Lois at the small coffee shop.
Evan Buckley had reached out to her via email a week prior. She’d made the decision to meet him alone when he’d asked about Cadmus. While the man himself might have objected, there was no need to get Clark involved. The young man was probably doing research for another podcast about unethical science. He looked the type.
”I was in town for a conference, and I’m always willing to foster the next generation of journalism.”
He winced, but quickly covered it with a smile. “Still, Cadmus is difficult to get information about outside of your article.”
”For good reason,” She warned. “Their work was controversial at best, and anyone attempting to replicate their results should be subjected to extreme scrutiny.”
Evan nodded. “That’s actually my main topic. Not trying to replicate anything. The most science I do is for science fair projects, but I’m looking into their controversial work, their cloning experiments. Specifically from the early 90s.”
“I might have some general information, but it sounds like you want specifics.” She had everything back in her hotel room. She’d pulled everything related to Cadmus when she got the email. It was under the best security Superman had available, but if Evan really needed it, she could get it for him.
He bit his lip and carefully scanned the shop. “A man named Dr. Carl Packard took DNA from his friends’ son. The kid had leukemia and they needed a match. Apparently, they mixed his DNA with another sample to try and avoid him developing cancer as well. My main focus is finding the donor, but anything on that experiment would be great.”
Lois didn’t need her files to know who the donor was. It was Lex before Conner. If Evan was right about the date, it would’ve likely been the first trial after Bizzaro, their first attempt at mixing human and Kryptonian DNA.
“Do you know what happened to the clone?”
Evan flinched at the last word.
She cursed internally. Kon had always hated being referred to as a clone, especially in the early days. It only changed when Bart started calling him MewTwo. If Evan knew the subject, he likely wouldn’t take too kindly to that term. She rephrased, “Sorry, the boy. With Cadmus, these stories rarely have happy endings.”
”He was given to the family for the bone marrow transplant. It didn’t work, but they kept him.”
She breathed a sigh of relief. Cadmus didn’t take the boy back. She couldn’t imagine losing a son, but losing two at one time would’ve been horrible. “That’s good.”
He shrugged, “Better than a lab, at least.”
She narrowed her eyes. Despite having never met the man before, there was something so familiar about him. The strong slope of his nose, the dimples when he smiles, and those eyes. They were blue, but so much brighter than any shade found on Earth. She recognized all of those traits, saw them everyday in her husband and son.
“Give me some time to try and dig something up on the donor.” Read: Convince her paranoid husband to talk to the poor man. But she knew of one family member who was very personable and would love to talk to someone he could relate to. “But I can put you in touch with my source. He and your friend have some things in common.”
Evan lit up. “Of course, give him my information. It’d be nice to have someone to talk to.”
From there, they moved on to less serious topics. Lois told him about her conference and asked about his job. (A firefighter likely hiding Kryptonian strength was impressive.) It wasn’t something she would do with most fans, but, as far as she was concerned, Connor was no longer her oldest.
The new Mortal Kombat game has a character with a combo that lets you freeze someone in place and then pelvic thrust into them. This isn't even that good a move but everyone is doing it because pantomiming gay sex with your opponent in the middle of a fight is simply too good a griefing opportunity to pass up
When I was a teenager and still on Neopets I was part of a pretty big Star Trek guild and eventually became part of its council, with the solemn duty of creating weekly polls. Well one day I created the poll "Which would win in a fight? Borg Cube or Death Star?". Naturally, since this was a Star Trek guild, the answer was overwhelmingly "Borg Cube", but someone did have the rationality to point out we were biased.
So I look up a pretty prominent Star Wars guild and message one of their council and ask them to poll the same question and get back to me in a week. They do, and naturally the fuckin geeks said "Death Star".
So then I look up a Stargate guild and messaged the lead council member, saying the same thing, and they get back to me almost immediately saying that the Death Star would immediately one-shot a Borg Cube but they would never be able to do it again to another Cube. And I took that wisdom back to my guild and we were mollified, and for one moment the Nerd World was peaceful.
i dont know if this has been posted before. i'm sure it has. but when i did a search for "jerma dick" and "dick jerma" and "ultraviolet dick jerma" i didnt get any results so i'm just gonna post it anyway
Coal miner's child using a hole in the door to enter a bedroom with a smoking pipe in one hand and a gun in the other in Bertha Hill, West Virginia. Photo by Marion Post Wolcott. 1938
It's like when you're a kid. The first time they tell you that the world's turning and you just can't quite believe it, because everything looks like it's standing still.
Wannabe Indiana Jones @space-age-bachelor - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
germansingergirl
blakekathryn
2087
annaxmalina
jacobvanloon
