Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Kon, over here,” Tim called, as he stared up at the tank.

Kon finally pulled himself away from the security footage in the previous room, and joined Tim further in the madman’s laboratory. Out of the corner of his eyes, Tim saw his partner freeze, expression morphing from puzzled discomfort to stricken horror.

“Is that a kid? ” he asked, audibly appalled.

Tim nodded. “A clone,” he said, glancing at the papers on the table.

The careful, calm air that Kon always held while acting as Superman fell away, replaced by a softer, nearly broken look. “We need to get her out.”

“Wait,” Tim ordered, holding up a hand. “I’m looking through the scientist’s notes. For all we know, removing her from the tank could kill her.”

As Tim delved deeper into the disjointed scribbles of the girl’s creator, Kon slowly approached the tub, pressing a hand to the glass that separated them. Looking her over, he couldn’t help but let out a shuddering sigh.

The girl was, at the youngest, biologically twelve years old. At the oldest, possibly fifteen. She was almost completely flawless. Her skin was baby-smooth. She had long black hair, that would have reached the small of her back were it to hang down properly. In the liquid that filled the tank, it floated about her in an ethereal halo. She was almost perfectly symmetrical.

Almost.

Where her right leg should be, there was an eye-catching cloud of scarlet surrounding empty space. The leg ended less than a quarter of the way down her thigh, looking for all the world like it had been ripped off by force.

Tim grimaced. Then he looked at the documents in front of him. “Subject 2.74,” he read aloud. There was a messy table covered in notes beside the tank. He picked up one and continued, “Subject is progressing rapidly. Will expose it to the programming as soon as it can be removed.” He grabbed the next one. “Subject’s right leg has attached to the wall of the tank. Subject is losing definition in the right foot.” And then a third. “Authorities inquiring into warehouse purpose. Will need to speed up the programming process. Removed subject from tank, accepting loss of limb. Was unable to transport subject to the programming chamber at this time. Returned subject to tank. Attempt confirms that subject’s lungs are fully functional and it can survive outside of the cloning tank.”

He frowned at the next note he read, tensing, but said, “Well, the good news is that she’ll survive being extracted from the tank, and they didn’t get a chance to brai- what the fuck? ”

He would deny the fact if ever questioned, but Tim jumped a foot in the air when the sound of shattering glass - a small explosion of it - and rushing water filled the room.

Kon retracted his fist, shaking off a few shards, and scooped the girl up from the decimated tank and torrent of fluid surrounding her. “Sorry,” he said, completely unapologetic.

Tim stared. Then he shook his head, feeling a headache coming on. “She’s going to start bleeding out, now that she’s out of the tank. Get her to the cave for help. Now. ”

Kon nodded and shot off in the blink of an eye, leaving behind only the subtle sound of a flapping cape.

Tim turned back to the notes, and contemplated what he had learned from the last one - and what he hadn’t gotten the chance to inform Kon of.

Supergirl Weapon Attempt #87

Status: Stable

DNA: Superman(Kon-El); Lena Luthor

He couldn’t help but groan at that. This was going to be a mess, he just knew it.

Chapter Text

Superman was standing on Lena’s balcony.

This was fine. Clearly, this was fine, because Lena had broken no laws, and if someone associated with her company had done something wrong, Kara would have told her before Superman ever had the chance. So this was fine, because he had no reason to try to arrest her, or accuse her of any evil. No matter who her older brother had been.

She waited for him to knock, because doing otherwise would mean admitting she had stared at her security cameras for five full minutes before ultimately deciding to let him in, whereas waiting for him to knock would make it seem as though she didn’t even realize he was there, at first. And it gave her time to compose herself.

It also appeared to give Superman time to compose himself. He was hesitating, hand hovering above the door to the balcony, like he needed to prepare himself for this conversation as well.

Knock, knock, knock.

Ah. He’d worked up his courage to knock. Great. Now it was her turn.

Lena approached the balcony, and arranged her expression into one of puzzled worry. It was easy, considering she was both puzzled, and worried. She just couldn’t let it show how puzzled or worried she was.

“Superman?” she said, opening the balcony door. “Can I help you?”

He gave her a strained smile. “I hope so,” he said. “I’m sorry for dropping by on short notice, Miss Luthor, but there’s some things I need to ask you about.”

Bad sign. It could be worse - he could have shown up accusing her of something off the bat, the way some heroes had in the past. But still a bad sign. “Of course. Is something the matter?”

“Not...exactly,” he said slowly. “Have you ever heard of a scientist in Gotham called Doctor Bastien Boucher?”

After taking a moment to consider, Lena shook her head. “I can’t say I have,” she said truthfully. “Why?”

For a split second, Superman looked relieved, though Lena wasn’t quite sure why. He replaced it with a far more neutral expression, that didn’t give anything away. “What about Bastion Genetics?”

That one made her pause. Something about that did sound familiar, actually, though she couldn’t place it. “You know, I’m not sure. Have they been in the news lately? I feel as though I’ve heard the name before.”

“Depends on what papers you’re subscribed to,” Superman said, a slight hint of a drawl entering his voice as he slightly relaxed. “Mostly Gotham papers, but the Daily Planet ran a story on them. Earlier this week, the main lab, in Gotham, was searched. They had a lot of, ah, specimens they should never have been able to access.”

Lena let out a slight sigh. “Let me guess, you think I had something to do with it? I’m not Lex. I have no interest in- in wanton criminal activity.”

He looked guilty. “No, not at all!” He waved off her worry. “It’s- It’s a bit of the opposite, actually. I have reason to believe that Bastion Genetics, specifically Doctor Boucher, personally, had....” he paused, bit his lip, then said, “I have reason to believe he was conducting experiments regarding you, without your consent or knowledge. Along with experiments regarding many other individuals.” As Lena blinked, taking that in, he met her gaze with an intense stare. “He had the DNA of six different celebrities, eight different heroes, and seventeen supervillains in his laboratory. Including your DNA, and including my own.”

Lena sucked in a deep breath. Then she turned, and went back inside. “Come in,” she said, voice shaky. “Would you like something to drink?”

“No, thank you,” Superman said, as he followed her into the penthouse. He carefully shut the door behind him. “I’m sorry, this must come as a shock.”

She nodded, walking over to the bar and pouring herself a glass. “What, exactly, were they hoping to do with it?” She took a long drink, leaning against the counter. “Where did they get it?”

“We’re looking into how he got it,” Superman said. He hovered, metaphorically, in the middle of the room, looking out of place. “He was experimenting with cloning.”

“Cloning,” Lena repeated flatly.

He nodded.

“And...and you came here, personally, to tell me about this,” she said slowly, closing her eyes. “You wouldn’t have done that if he hadn’t managed to- to-” She swallowed. “Is there another me running around, somewhere?”

“No,” Superman assured her, voice firm. “I promise you, he didn’t- he didn’t make a perfect clone of you. No one could mistake what he did create with you.”

“But he did create something.”

“Someone,” Superman said, looking away for the first time throughout the entire conversation. “She’s- you’ve heard about test tube babies, yeah?” he said, taking a different direction.

“In vitro fertilization,” Lena said, not liking where this was going. “Yes, I’m well aware of it.”

“It’s more like that, then like a true clone,” Superman said. “He didn’t just take your DNA, and make another person out of it. He combined it with someone else’s, as well. So it’s a bit like you had a kid, but you’ve never met the father, you had no idea there was any, uh, pregnancy, I guess, and the kid is already about fourteen, biologically, instead of being born as a baby.”

Lena took another long drink. “That’s worse,” she said flatly. “So, a scientist I’ve never heard of acquired my DNA through unknown means, combined it with the stolen DNA of another person I’ve never met, and now there’s some sort of- of soulless pseudo-child running around, and if someone does any tests on it, it’s going to look like it’s my responsibility.”

“That’s not- no,” Superman said, lips pursing. “She’s not a thing. Or soulless. She’s a kid. I didn’t come here to tell you because I expected you to take care of her, either. I just thought you had a right to know. If you want, I can tell you whose DNA they combined yours with.”

“If I don’t have to deal with it- her, whatever- then I don’t need to know. I’d rather not know, thank you very much.” Lena rubbed her forehead. “What-”

She was interrupted by a call from the hall. “I’m home!”

Lena tensed, and glanced at Superman, who had gone from looking frustrated to looking baffled in mere seconds.

Kara poked her head in the sitting room. “Lena, I got some more- oh!” She blinked, looking at Superman. “Oh. Whoops. Hey, Kon. What’re you doing here?”

He blinked right back at her. “I’m here because- no, wait, hold up, why are you here?”

“That’s, well, that’s a bit of a long story,” she said. “Ah, Lena, I see you’ve met my cousin! Lena, this is Kon-El, Kon, this is Lena!” She offered them both a hesitant grin. “What’s up?”

“That’s a long story,” Superman said, crossing his arms and frowning at her. “You first.”

“I was cloned without my knowledge or permission,” Lena said shortly. “Superman came here to inform me. Since he stated I have no obligation to handle the situation, and there’s no way it can take on my appearance, I’m going to leave it up to the authorities.”

“What kind of clone?” Kara asked, growing more serious, stepping forwards and fixing her attention on her cousin. “More like Bizarro, or more like, well…?” she gestured vaguely in his direction.

Superman looked away. “More like me,” he said. “Almost exactly, actually.”

“Lena and who?”

“What do you mean, like you?” Lena asked warily.

“Miss Luthor and myself, actually,” he said shortly, completely ignoring her.

“Wait, you? ” Kara’s eyes widened. “Wow. Good thing Lena’s adopted, otherwise that could’ve been really gross. They didn’t know , did they?”

“Not that we can tell,” Superman grit out.

“What does my family have to do with- would you two please explain yourselves?” Lena insisted, glaring at the pair in turn.

Kara exchanged a glance with her cousin. “That’s a long story,” she said.

“One of my biological parents, if you could call them that, was Lex Luthor,” Superman said, glaring. “He took the DNA of himself, and the original Superman, Kal-El, and combined them. That’s where I came from. Which would make me a soulless clone, I suppose,” he finished, jaw clenched.

There was a moment of silence.

“Why would you call yourself that?” Kara asked, appalled. “You’re not soulless, Kon!”

“It doesn’t matter," he said bitterly. "Why are you here, again? You never said.”

“Oh- well, um, long story short, Lena and I got married last year. We’ve kept it on the down-low. Only my mom and sister knew.” Kara brushed some hair back behind her ear. “I’ve been meaning to tell you guys, but I was worried- I was worried you wouldn’t approve. And I didn’t want to argue about it.”

“Why wouldn’t I approve?” Superman frowned, even deeper than he had been before.

“Kon,” Kara said, tone fond, “There’s a really obvious reason why you might not.”

“Maybe- Maybe the others wouldn’t,” he admitted, “But, I mean, she and I are in the same boat, in that regard, right? I can’t be upset that she’s technically related to him , when I’m also technically related to him.”

“Still.” Kara chewed on her lip. “So, was it CADMUS again?”

He shook his head. “No. A place called Bastion Genetics.”

Lena took a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” she interrupted. “I said a lot of things I think I might regret, now that I’ve had more time to think about them.”

Superman fixed a smile in place on his face. It wasn’t particularly convincing. “It’s fine. You didn’t know any better. I meant it when I said you don’t have to be involved with her. I just wanted you to know what had happened.”

“If this clone is, as you put it, a child,” Lena started, not completely convinced that this was true, but not about to argue with Kara over it, if she thought it was possible, “Where will she be staying?”

“With me,” Superman said without hesitation. “I’m gonna need a bigger place to stay, but I can do that.”

“Won’t that make being Superman harder?” Kara asked. “Why not send her to your ma and pa?”

“I don’t want her to think she’s not wanted,” Superman said. “Jon’s going to cover for me, for a bit.”

“He’s seventeen,” Kara objected. “He’s too young to be Superman.”

“I was nineteen when Kal disappeared, and I had to take over,” Superman pointed out. “Look, I get it’s not ideal, but I’m not going to make her think she’s some kind of burden. Maybe I didn’t plan on being a dad anytime soon, but I am now, and I’m gonna step up to the plate and handle it.” He’d lost the transatlantic accent he’d been talking with earlier, sounding a bit more like a west coast city kid. “I’m not gonna let Lor grow up with all the doubts I had as a kid.”

“Lor?” Lena asked.

“Yeah,” he said slowly. “That’s her name. Lor-El. We’re working on an alias.”

“Lor’s a nice name,” Kara said.

“So this girl, Lor, she’s staying with you?” Lena clarified. When he nodded, she let out a sigh. “Fine. I’ll- I’ll pay, well, child support, of a sort, if that would help. God knows I have enough money to handle it. Just, I don’t want to raise her. I had no plans of being a- a mother. That’s not changing just because some scientist decided to play god.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Would it make it easier for you?”

He frowned. “I have other ways I can get money. My boyfriend-”

“Just take the money, please. If you don’t need it, send it to the seventeen year old you’re about to turn into an internationally known superhero. I can’t imagine he won’t appreciate some help.” Lena turned to leave the room. “Thank you for telling me about her. I’m sorry I won’t be of more help. I’m truly sorry I insulted you, and your, ah, daughter, albeit inadvertently, in your case. And thank you for allowing me to not be involved with her.”

“No problem,” he replied, voice a bit dry. “Nice meeting you. Welcome to the family and congratulations on the wedding.”

“See, conversations like this are why I didn’t tell you guys I married her,” Lena overheard Kara say, just before she closed the door behind her.

Chapter Text

“So, Lor,” Tim sat down across from the girl. She stared at him, eyes narrowing. He just smiled. “How are you feeling?”

“Who are you?” she asked bluntly.

“Tim,” he said. “Tim Drake-Wayne. I’m your pops’ boyfriend. Red Robin, remember?”

That got a reaction. Her eyes widened, and she looked away. “I’m fine,” she muttered. “What’s a boyfriend?”

“A romantic partner who’s a guy.”

“Oh. Like on the TV.” She glanced back at the device in question, considering it. “Is it the same as a husband?”

“Not exactly.” This wasn’t the conversation Tim had hoped to have with her. “Before we get into all that, though, would you mind if we talked a bit about you? I just want to make sure you’re not hurt in any way.”

She stared at him, brow furrowing. “I don’t have a right leg,” she said, in a flat tone that implied she thought he must be a complete idiot.

“Other than that,” Tim said with a sigh. It had been some time since he'd dealt with a fourteen year old on a regular basis, and as much as he thought Kon was doing the right thing, here, he wasn't really looking forward to dealing with the stress a teenager was sure to cause.

“I’m fine.”

“Have you been in any pain?” he probed.

“Yeah,” she said, rolling her eyes. “My leg hurts like hell.”

“I- right. Sorry. For the rest of this, can we just assume I’m asking about everything but your leg?”

“Whatever.”

“Anything else hurt?” he asked, after she had slumped a bit more in her chair.

“Nope,” she said, popping the ‘P’ sound.

“Have you felt ill at all?”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Are you having any difficulty moving?”

Lor let out a slight scoff. “Oh, yeah, I’m the best at walking!” she said, with an overly-bright smile. “I use my hands!”

Right, this was- Tim needed some backup. He was out of practice. So he stood up. “I- hold on a second. I need to talk to Kon.” Then he strode out of the room to find his partner.

Kon looked over when he entered the kitchen. “What’s up? You sounded a bit frustrated out there.”

“I don’t remember how to talk to kids.”

Conner snickered. “She’s been alive for like, eight days, and she’s already too snarky for you?”

“I’m- look, it’s been a long week.” Tim ran a hand through his hair. “Can you help a bit?”

“I’ll try,” Kon said, shrugging. “She doesn’t seem too talkative, so far. Sometimes she perks up for a few minutes, but she always withdraws.” He bit his lip. “Though that could just be because of me.”

Tim sighed. “She’s started calling you Pops, right? That’s a good sign, considering she started that on her own.” He glanced back towards the living room. “Look, just, come sit with us while I ask her? She might be more willing to talk to me if you’re there.”

“If you think it’ll help, sure,” Kon agreed.

They returned to the living room. Lor sat upright when they did, staring at them.

“Lor-”

“Sorry,” she blurted out. “I’m sorry. I won’t do that again. Am I in trouble? I’m sorry.”

“It’s…” Tim glanced to Kon, a bit baffled. “It’s fine, Lor,” he said slowly. “You’re not in trouble. I promise. I just wanted to ask Kon something.”

She bit her lip, staring at him. “Really?”

“Really.”

After a short stare-off, she relaxed, and leaned back against the couch, looking for all the world like she’d never been worried in the first place. “Okay. Are we done?”

“Not quite,” Tim said, blinking at the sudden change. “Other than the leg, have you been having any problems?”

“My hair keeps falling in my face,” she offered, after a moment’s thought. “It’s stupid. And my clothes are too big.”

The clothes were hand-downs from various family members; mostly shirts from Kon and a few jeans from Jason’s daughter Lisa, who was the closest in size that Tim could find on short notice, at least until they could bring Lor to get clothes of her own.

“We’ll fix the clothes thing soon. Next weekend, at the latest,” he promised, as Kon nodded. “I can get you some hair ties, if you want.”

“I want hair like Pops’,” she said.

“Are you sure?” Kon asked. “Our hair doesn’t exactly lend itself to being cut.”

It was true. Kryptonian hair usually grew slower than human hair, but it took a lot more to get rid of it. Usually a pair of kryptonite clippers, or a room filled with synthetic red sunlight so that normal scissors could be used, both of which tended to take some time to set up. “We can work on that soon,” Tim told her, “But it’s not gonna be a priority, okay?”

She scowled down at her lap. “Whatever.”

“I gave Kon a list of names to show you, earlier this week. Have you looked at it?” Tim asked. Before they brought Lor anywhere, he wanted all the paperwork forged that made her legal. Or, well, appear to be legal.

“Yeah,” she said, unenthused. “They suck.” Then, for a moment, she brightened. “But I figured out a good name! I wanna be Laurel!”

All of Tim’s thoughts screeched to a halt. “Laurel?”

“Yeah!” She looked up at him eagerly. “Isn’t it a good name?”

“I- Lor,” he started, then looked to Kon for help.

“Don’t you think it’s a bit close to your kryptonian name?” Kon asked gently. Tim knew he’d explained the importance of secret identities to her, that had been one of the first things the pair had talked about. “It’s not a bad name, but it’s kinda easy to figure out.”

“So I can’t have real clothes,” Lor started, shoulders slumping, “I can’t cut my hair, I don’t have a right leg, and I can’t be Laurel?” She tipped her head back and stared listlessly up at the ceiling. “If that can’t be my name, can you choose one for me? I don’t care what it is.”

“No, it’s- Laurel’s fine,” Kon said. When Tim shot him an objecting look, Kon just shook his head. “Laurel Kent. We can work with that, if it’s what you really want.”

“Really?” she asked hopefully.

“Really,” he agreed.

“Thank you, Pops!” she said, bouncing up and down on the couch slightly in her excitement, beaming. “I’ll be really good, I promise! I’ll keep it a really good secret!”

Tim opened his mouth to protest, because Laurel, and Lor-El? Really? But Kon just shot him another look, pleading this time, and Tim stopped, and sighed. “Okay, Laurel,” he said. “I’ll get you set up in the system by next weekend, and then we can go clothes shopping.”

“Thank you, Tim!” Lor pushed at the cushions, launching herself off of the couch, and fell on top of him in a hug. He started tipping over, about to slip right onto the floor, but Kon caught them both, holding them upright. “You won’t regret it, I promise!”

As much as he knew that figuring out how to keep people from connecting Lor-El with Laurel would certainly be in the future, Tim couldn’t help but let out a huff of laughter as she cheered. If it was this easy to make her happy, maybe everything wouldn’t be so hard after all.

Chapter Text

Lor - Laurel now, she thought with a hint of excitement, a real name that real people had, and that was hers now, because she was a real person - watched as Tim said goodbye to Pops. She hovered between the kitchen and the entryway, holding herself upright on the doorway, and listened to them talk. She’d gotten a bit better at balancing on her leg, so long as she had a wall nearby. She didn’t like how short she was in the wheelchair Pops had given her, so she tried to avoid using it.

“You need a bigger place,” Tim was saying. “She can’t sleep on your couch forever.”

“I know. I’m working on it,” Pops replied.

“I can just get you a bigger place, Kon,” Tim said, sounding a bit frustrated, but also fond. It was nice.

She wasn’t sure if she liked Tim yet. She wasn’t even sure if she liked Pops yet, considering how weird he acted around her, though, since she wasn’t sure what kind of person she was, she tried not to get too upset about it. But it was nice how they looked at each other. Maybe someday, someone would look at her like that, like she was good. Tim had smiled at her, earlier, and Pops smiled a lot, but from what she’d heard, she thought maybe they were just doing it because they thought they had to. Which didn’t seem fair to them, but she wasn’t gonna ask them to stop. It made her feel like she was supposed to be here.

Was that selfish?

“If Lena insists on sending money, we can use that, not your money, Tim,” Pops replied, snorting.

Lena was her mom. Laurel hadn’t realized at first, until she saw something on TV about families, and remembered that your parents are your mom and pops, and since she came from Lena Luthor, too, that would make Lena her mom. But Lena didn’t like her, Laurel was pretty sure. She didn’t know why. Or, well, she didn’t know for certain why, but she had a pretty good guess that it had something to do with why Pops acted weird around her.

“Besides, I need to figure out what place I’d get, before we can move.”

“You could move in with me,” Tim offered. “If you want.”

“Do you really think that’s the best thing for her right now?” Pops asked dubiously. “I mean, doing that would mean she’s interacting with not just me everyday, but also you and Alfred, which would probably be fine, and Dick and Damian, which might cause some problems. She’s kinda on edge as it is.”

“Damian’s not that bad anymore,” Tim argued, though he looked like he was about to laugh. “Just a grouch. And what’s wrong with Dick?”

“Nothing’s wrong with him, he can just be a lot. I think he might overwhelm her, that’s all.”

“Fair enough. But if you change your mind, the offer’s still open, okay?”

“Got it.”

They exchanged a quick kiss, then Tim was heading out the door. Pops closed the door, then turned around, and paused, giving Laurel a smile when he saw her. It took him a second, like he had to remember to smile. Not like how quickly he smiled at Tim. “Want to watch a movie?”

That got her to perk up, at least. “Yes! There was a movie on the TV that had a superhero in it. Can we watch one of those?”

“One with a superhero?” Pops clarified. Laurel nodded enthusiastically. Superheroes were cool . They had to be, since they rescued people. Just like Tim and Pops had rescued her.

That meant Tim and Pops were cool, too. Laurel wasn’t sure if that was true or not, but maybe if she knew them better, she’d think that sounded right.

“Have you seen Into The Spider-Verse yet?” Pops asked.

“No. What’s that one? Is it cool?” Coolness was important, from what she’d seen on TV. Laurel wanted to be cool herself, but she hadn’t quite figured out how . Clothes shopping would help, she was pretty sure.

That just got a bit of a laugh from Pops. “Yeah, it’s pretty cool. It came out when I was like, 18, but it still holds up. C’mon. I think you’ll like it.”

“Old things are still cool sometimes,” Laurel informed him. “I saw something on TV talking about the Justice League, and people said they were cool, even though they’ve been around for decades .”

Pops snickered. “Oh?”

“Yeah! But I think some of their members have switched out when they get too lame, so that probably helps,” she informed him.

“Is that what happened?” Pops seemed to think she was being really funny, for some reason. “Nothing else?”

“Why else would they have changed?” Laurel asked curiously.

He stared at her with a raised eyebrow, before he seemed to realize something. “Oh. Well. I dunno, I guess it would depend, case by case,” he said, suddenly uncomfortable. She tilted her head, frowning. “For example, I just left to take care of you. Not because I got too lame, or anything.”

“You- you did?” she asked, stricken. “ Why? ”

“Well, I’m not about to leave you on your own,” Pops said softly, lips quirking upwards. “I know from experience how much that sucks.”

“Oh.” She looked down at where her hands gripped the door frame. “Why else would someone leave?” she asked, hoping for a change of subject.

“I mean, it really depends,” he said slowly. “They might just be ready to retire.” When she opened her mouth to ask more, he cut her off, clapping his hands together. “Let’s go watch that movie! You’ll like it, I promise.” And without further ado, he stepped forwards, and took her arm to help her back to the couch.

“I can get there on my own!”

As she bickered with him over her ability to cross a room on one leg, the conversation about superheroes changing and her confusion over why they would utterly fled from her mind.