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The parental units were up to something, Jordan could tell. Clark had baked Grandma's apple pie – the one he only made for special occasions – and even ran to the store for vanilla bean ice cream. Mom had closed her computer for the night and pulled her hair back in a messy but comfortable bun. She only did that when she was ready for a family evening, but it was barely after six. Dinner usually wasn't for another half-hour or so.
It was suspicious, too, how calm and relaxed his parents were. With Jonathan almost going all the way with Candice, Jordan avoiding his issues with Sarah, and the Irons in Metropolis for the weekend and unable to act as buffers – a calm Friday night dinner seemed unrealistic. Jordan certainly didn’t think it warranted pie.
He eventually said as much.
Clark threw him one of his quizzical but put-on expressions. “You don’t think I want to spoil you?”
“You might want to, but you rarely do. Not like this.”
Jonathan must have noticed the unusual mood in the home, too, because he had started his homework that evening.
“You didn’t listen into one of our conversations again, did you?” Jonathan accused.
The oven's timer beeped, and Clark grabbed the potholders. "A promise is a promise, Jonathan. Did you really think I wouldn’t keep it?”
“Okay, don’t interrogate your father,” Lois admonished as she entered the room. “Why don’t you wash up for dinner? Our guest should be arriving any minute.”
As Jonathan asked, “Guest?” Jordan watched Clark place the casserole down on the counter gingerly.
“You know it can’t burn you.”
“It pays to be careful.”
“You can withstand the heat of a nuclear bomb.”
“What did I say about interrogating your father?” Lois ruffled Jordan’s hair and hit Jonathan on the shoulder before looking down at the books and laptop on the dinner table. “You haven’t started your book report yet? Jonathan, it’s due Monday.”
“Oh, this?” He motioned to his screen. “This is just the outline, Mom. I have the report in another document.”
“Why don’t you pull it up – ”
Clark slid the pie into the oven to bake and set the timer. “Why don’t you do that later? He’s almost here.”
A lowkey rumbling sounded at the very edge of Jordan’s hearing, just before Jonathan’s eyes lit up and turned toward him. “Is that – ”
“ – a motorcycle?”
Lois bit her lower lip, trying to suppress a smile, as Clark shrugged with a knowing grin. “Your godfather might have been in the area, and I told him to stop by for pie.”
Somehow, Jonathan was a step ahead of Jordan, racing toward the door and down the porch stairs. There, the driver was already pulling off his helmet and gloves and stepping off his motorcycle. He was older than Jordan and Jonathan by less than a decade with dark hair that blended into the night and sharp blue eyes that looked so similar to Mr. Wayne’s that Jordan could never understand how they weren’t blood related. Unlike Mr. Wayne’s usual garb – a suit and a tie – Dick wore casual wear – a Henley and worn jeans – along with a smile that was easy and warm.
He turned toward the twins with open arms. "Super Twins!”
“Dick!” Jordan shouted and lunged, slamming into his godfather’s midsection. Jonathan followed suit, wrapping his arms around Dick as Dick returned the tight embrace.
“I missed you, too,” Dick whispered, pressing a quick kiss to each’s head.
Jordan remembered the last time he and Jonathan saw their godfather, right before his parents decided to move to Smallville. He’d stopped by, unannounced like he normally did, bringing cupcakes from a famous Gotham bakery. A full dozen – half red velvet for Jordan and half yellow cake with chocolate icing for Jonathan.
“Just wanted to see how my two favorite godsons were doing,” he’d said before dropping an overnight bag next to the front door and offering to cook dinner.
Lois worked in her home office while Dick set up the twins at the breakfast bar, so he could cook and help them with their homeowner simultaneously.
It never occurred to Jordan before that maybe when Clark went to save the world, Dick came to save their family.
Now, Dick patted them both on their side before grabbing his overnight back and slinging it over his shoulder. “Let’s get caught up, huh? I want to hear about everything in Smallville.”
“Everything?” Jonathan parroted, wary.
Dick winked and urged him forward. “Everything.”
Lois met them at the front door, drawing Dick in with kiss on the cheek and a tender hug. When she asked how his drive was, Dick paused and eyed her closely. “Ms. Lane, from your tone, it sounds like someone forgot one of your Pulitzer Prizes.”
Lois scoffed, and Dick’s eyes flashed wide. “Someone forgot both of them?”
“Morgan Edge said I was short-listed, Dick.”
“And he still lives?”
That brought kind laughter to Lois’s lips, and she took his leather jacket. Dick then dropped his bag just inside the living room and hurried to the kitchen to greet Clark, who all but lifted him off the ground in a bearhug.
“Thank you for coming, Dick. We’ve really missed you.”
“I’ve really missed you guys. I have to make sure to stop by more often.”
“Smallville isn’t really close to Gotham,” Jordan said under his breath, but Dick caught it anyway. “That means I’ll have to stay longer.”
Dinner was warm and relaxed, filled with laughter and stories. Jordan hadn’t laughed that much since they were painting the living room and Lois had attacked Jonathan with a paint brush. Clark seemed completely at ease, even letting one of his elbows drop to the table, while Lois sighed and reached out to hold the opposite hand. Jonathan dropped his head to the table and groaned when Jordan brought up Candice, and Dick perked up at that point.
“Well, I think that’s my opening.” He stood and began to collect the empty pie plates. “Boys, why don’t you grab a football, and we’ll throw it around for a bit?”
Clark’s stern, “Superman” tone entered his one-time relaxed voice. “Dick, you are not cleaning the plates in this house. You’re our guest.”
Jordan could count on one hand how many times he’d heard Clark use that tone when wearing glasses.
“Guest? And here I thought I was one of the family.” Dick was already dropping the plates into the sink when Clark opened his mouth to protest. “Clark, please. You know there’s a very proper and stern Englishman in Gotham who would give me a very disappointed look if he found out I didn’t do the dishes after you cooked. I’ll do them after the Super Twins and I come in.”
The old term zinged Jordan, and he shot a surprised look at Jonathan, whose own eyes were growing wide with shock.
“Wait.” Jordan blinked, and the tongue struggled to form the words. “Y-You know? I mean, you know know?”
Dick wiped his hands on a dishtowel and leaned back against the counter. “You’re going to have to be more specific. I know a lot of things.”
They couldn’t say. Mom and Dad made them promise not to tell anyone, but if Dick really knew…
Dick sighed and braced his hands on the counter behind him. “I mean, I know the Meteors aren’t going to make the playoffs this year. Sorry, Clark. No amount of wishing is going to make that so. I know Wayne Enterprises is working on a flying electric car, but I’ve been banned from test-driving it. I know Jonathan hasn’t started his report yet, though he told you otherwise, Lois.”
Lois sent a scathing glare toward her son. “Jonathan.”
“How could you possibly know that?” Jonathan demanded, causing Dick to shrug.
“You shut your computer the moment I entered the house, but I saw the outline up on the document. You’re only two sections in, which isn’t even a full outline. Plus, your book’s pages aren’t crinkled past page – what? thirty? forty? – which means you haven’t even read the whole thing. And if you haven’t read it, then you couldn’t have finished your report, and you don’t want your Mom to know that. So that means you told Lois you have finished it but you actually haven’t.”
Jordan blinked, trying to make sense of it all. Their easygoing godfather was always one step ahead of them, but even when Dick was barely legal and driving them to school or football practice or comic cons, he’d never laid out his thinking like a murder mystery reveal.
Then Dick’s light-hearted nature returned with a rich laugh. “Or did you mean, ‘Do I know about the 235-pound Superman in the room?’ Yeah, I know about that, too.”
“This is insane,” Jordan said ten minutes later, accepting the easy pass and tossing it along to Jonathan. “How many people knew about Dad before us?”
Dick received the ball from Jonathan with a tiny clap. “More than you think, less than a Justice League.” Another shrug. “Not everyone knows who Clark is.”
“So why do you?”
Dick hummed for a moment, glancing back over his shoulder as if looking for someone, and then turned back with his fingers making bat ears on the sides of his head. “I work with a certain Dark Knight in Gotham.”
“Oh my God! You work with Batman?” Jonathan dropped the football and took a hesitant step toward Dick. “Does Mr. Wayne know?”
“He can’t.” Jordan hit Jonathan on the shoulder. “Mr. Wayne is so nice. He totally would not be okay with Dick being in danger like that.”
“You only think that because Mr. Wayne brought you a PlayStation 5 the last time he was here.”
“And he brought you that signed Knights’ jersey.”
“That was really cool.”
“I don’t get it,” Dick muttered, reaching down to pick up the football. “Seriously? How does he do it?”
Jordan put his hands up for a pass. “Who are you talking about? Batman?”
“Never mind. Look, I came here to talk to you about two things.”
“Are you Oracle?”
Jonathan snorted. “Sure, you’d want him to be the nerdiest superhero.”
“Hey.” Dick pointed the ball at Jonathan like a reprimand. “First, Oracle is…totally nerdy, and second, I’ve dated her. But that’s…not something you need to know.”
Jordan snatched Jonathan’s arm and tugged. “Seriously! Oracle’s a girl!”
“Great.” Jonathan rolled his eyes. “Now on top of your obsessive hero worship, you’ve got the hots for her.”
“Oracle’s, like, the greatest hacker ever. Have some respect.”
“Guys.” Dick clapped the ball between his hands. “Look, we need to talk, okay? Like – serious, guy-to-guy stuff here.”
Jonathan cringed. “You’re not giving us the birds and the bees talk, are you? Cuz Dad and Mom already did some of that, and – ”
“Hey, this is uncomfortable for me, too.”
“So that’s a yes,” Jordan muttered.
“But it’s something that needs to be said.” Dick held the ball between his hands and came closer to tap the tip to Jonathan’s chest. “Things are changing, for both of you. Lots of things. And these aren’t easy changes. You’re growing up, and you’ll be getting…urges, y’know?”
Jonathan wiped his hands down his face. “Oh, God. Kill me now.”
“Hey, hey.” Dick clasped his shoulder and shook him slightly. “I’m not here to lecture. That’s what parents are for. I’m here to tell you that actions have consequences. Something might seem like a lot of fun and even feel really good, but it can lead to issues down the road.”
“Seriously.” Jordan’s cheeks flushed hot. “Can we not?”
“I wish, but your dad actually gave me this talk, too. So it’s only fair that I return the favor. And I’m going to tell you what he told me.” Dick pulled down Jonathan’s hands to look into his eyes before looking over at Jordan and holding his gaze. “No always means no. Full stop. There’s no ‘Maybe he or she actually means yes.’ No. If someone says no, the answer is no, okay? No matter what your friends say. Understand?”
Jordan nodded, and Dick looked over at Jonathan and waited until he received a nod, too.
“Okay, and second, think of the consequences. Decide if you really want a kid at fifteen or sixteen and if you’re really able to handle that. If you’re willing to give up a football scholarship and your potential career for a baby because you had some fun one night. And you.” Dick clasped Jordan on the shoulder and pulled him close. “Think if you want to give up your time drawing comics and getting into the industry. Is having a baby worth it?”
“We’re not stupid,” Jonathan replied, causing Dick to laugh. “Did you have protection?”
Jordan winced. “Dick, geez.”
“I’m being serious. Jon, did you have protection?”
“I’m fifteen! You think I can just go to the store, and…Dick?”
Dick backtracked to his motorcycle, popped open the middle compartment, and pulled out two small grocery store bags. He threw one to Jonathan and then one to Jordan, who glanced inside. Jordan’s stomach immediately flipped, and his face burned.
“You brought us condoms?”
“I’m not here to preach abstinence, but the most important thing is to be safe. Always wear a condom, even if your girlfriend says she takes birth control pills. Make sure it doesn’t hurt. It doesn’t have to. Google and find out how to make it good for your partner, too. And the absolute most important thing…” He came forward to grip both boys’ shoulders and leaned close enough to whisper. “You call me about anything. You have a question about how condoms work. You knocked down a telephone pole with super strength. You found out your girlfriend kissed another girl and you’re not sure how to handle it – ”
“How did you even – ”
Another shake and a glare into his eyes. “You call me. You text me. That’s what I’m here for. And it stays between us, okay? Your parents don’t have to know.”
Jonathan rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on. Dad can hear anything – ”
“If your dad was listening, do you think I’d still be talking? There’d be a hole through the side of that barn and me inside.” He thumbed behind him with a half-cocked grin. “I’m serious, guys. I’m here to help. I’m not here to judge or anything…okay?”
Jordan huffed, his shoulders slumping as he let out a broken laugh. “Dad told you, huh? That I’m a freak?”
Dick hitched a leg up and sat back on his motorcycle. “You’re not a freak.”
“Well, I’m not normal.”
“No one is normal. I can recite the Gotham State Law Enforcement Handbook backwards and forwards.”
Jonathan scoffed, “Seriously?”
Dick’s lips twisted into a smug grin. “Try me.”
“Page 22, paragraph four.”
“ ‘If a person willfully causes another to commit a federal crime, that person may be found guilty of the offense he caused –‘ ”
Jordan hit Jonathan’s side and winked. “Page 75, paragraph ten.”
“ ‘If asked at trial about what happened when the defendant was arrested or booked, the witness should testify about what he or she –’ ”
Jonathan bit his bottom lip. “Page 332, paragraph two.”
“ ‘In contrast, when an electronic tracking device is located in an area not open to visual surveillance –’ ”
“Oh my God,” Jordan exclaimed. “Why are you like this?”
“Because my dad was a super pain in my ass who said if I was going to help fight crime, I needed to know what exactly constituted a crime according to the law.” Dick’s smile was fond, his tone light and jovial. “I’m a circus acrobat who became the protégé to the world’s greatest detective. Does that sound normal to you?”
Jonathan glanced away. Jordan shook his head and toed a rock in the mud under his sneaker.
“The thing is, I grew up around people who weren’t normal either. An Amazon warrior, an Atlantean prince, the fastest kid alive, and well, Roy.”
“Roy?” Jonathan echoed. “Who’s that?”
“Better you don’t know, but the thing is – you don’t have friends like I did. Not yet, anyway, but you do have me. I know what it’s like growing up different from my peers. I know what it’s like to try to blend in and not stand out, and I know what it’s like to keep secrets for your dad.” Dick sighed and stood, reaching down to the ground for the forgotten football. “So if things seem hard and you need to talk to someone whose been there and done that, you have me…all right?”
Jordan shoved his hands into his pockets. “Yeah. Okay.”
Dick ducked his head but looked up to find Jonathan’s averted eyes. “I also know what it’s like to be the only non-super-powered person in the middle of a group of superheroes, so when you start to feel like maybe you’re missing out or something, I’m here to tell you you’re not. You’re special just the way you are.”
Jonathan snorted. “You’re like an afterschool special.”
“Is that a diss?” Dick looked from Jonathan to Jordan and back again. “Did you just diss me? Come here!”
Jordan laughed and swiveled, keeping a step in front of Jonathan as they raced toward the house. A small tug on a sweatshirt, a tiny grunt, and somehow Dick landed effortlessly in front of them with a shit-eating grin.
“That’s right, boys. I got mad skills.”
After Dick thoroughly pinned both of them and even used Jordan’s super strength against him, they retired to the house. Clark and Lois sat in the living room, enjoying a bottle of wine and each other’s company.
“Everything go alright?” Clark asked.
“We managed.” Dick ushered the boys and their grocery bags toward the stairs. “Why don’t you guys head up and as soon as I finish the dishes, we can play around of Gotham Knights? I’ll even let one of you play Nightwing.”
“Who wants to be him?” Jordan replied and offered his fist to Jonathan. “I call dibs on Batgirl.”
Jonathan tapped it. “Cool. I’ll be Red Hood.”
Dick sighed. “What’s wrong with Nightwing? Wait. Never mind. I don’t want to know.”
Jordan headed up the stairs but paused once he heard his father speak. “Dick, I can’t thank you enough for coming. You have no idea how much Lois and I appreciate it.”
“Clark, what did I tell you about thanking me for things you shouldn’t? I’m just grateful to be part of the Super Twin’s lives.”
“Maybe now that Jordan has powers and Jonathan – ”
“They’re your and Lois’s sons. Powers or not, they’ll always be the Super Twins.”
Jordan looked up to see Jonathan standing at the top of the stairs and caught a glimpse of his smile before his brother headed into his room.
“Clark, if you thank me one more time, I’m going to invite the Super Triplets to Wayne Manor, and I cannot guarantee their safety. Damian lives there now.”
Jordan followed Dick as he headed out toward his motorcycle. The week seemed to go by all too quickly, with Dick taking them to school and attending all their practices and games. He sat with Jonathan and made him read To Kill a Mockingbird before helping him write his report, and then he quizzed Jordan for his geography test. He even took Natalie aside and taught her basic kick-boxing techniques.
As Dick unclipped his helmet from the motorcycle’s handles, Jonathan asked, “Who’s Damian?”
Dick didn’t even look up as he pulled on his riding gloves. “Bruce’s assassin son.”
Jordan snorted. “If you didn’t want to tell us, you just could’ve said so.”
“I’m not joking.” Dick closed his seat compartment and turned toward the boys. “Bruce has a son who was raised to be an assassin by his mother and grandfather. He’s around your age, actually.”
Jonathan leaned an elbow on Jordan’s shoulder. “Please, like Mr. Wayne would have an assassin son.”
Dick looked past the boys to Clark and Lois. “Seriously. How does he do it?”
Lois laughed and pulled him into a heart-warming hug. “Clark does it with glasses. Your father does it with a smile.”
“That’s…pretty on point.” He turned back to the boys with a huff. “Okay, so what did we agree to?”
“You know we’re not ten, right?” Jonathan grumbled.
Dick cocked his head to the side. “If you were still ten, I wouldn’t ask you to repeat it. You’d just do what I say.”
“Fine,” Jordan sighed and shared quick look with Jonathan before they said in stereo, “We’ll text once a week and if we have any issues.”
“Good.” Dick then shifted to look at Natalie, who stood in front of a thoroughly amused John Henry Irons. “Natalie, if you feel comfortable, I’m here for you, too. Whatever you need.”
“Thanks, Mr. Grayson.”
Dick blinked, expression expectant, until Natalie blushed and looked away. “…Dick.”
“All right. Now hugs around. C’mon.”
Natalie lunged first, latching onto Dick for a long hug, and then Jonathan joined her, following by Jordan. The embrace was as strong and firm as any Jordan received from his father.
Then Dick stepped back and ruffled his hair. “I’ll be back at the end of next month, all right? Sooner if you need me.”
Jordan thumbed back at his parents. “We’ll be fine, Dick. Dad can lift a bridge, Mr. Irons can wield a hammer better than a Norse god, and Mom’s saving the world, one article at a time.”
Dick gazed at him, all the seriousness in the world in his eyes. “Superheroes are human, too, Jordan. And your dad might be the most human guy I’ve ever met.” Then the sparkle and mischievousness returned to his face, like it never left. “Now, I have to get on the road, or I’ll be hearing from – ” Dick’s phone rang with the latest Black Canary hit, and his lips twisted in a waning smile. “ – speak of the Bat. Excuse me for one moment.”
He clicked on the phone. “Hey Bruce! …yeah, I’m hitting the road in a few. …you know, most parents would rather their kids travel in the daytime, not at - yes, I have my mask with the night vision lenses. …I’ll be careful. No, I’m not asking Clark to drop me off. I’m twenty-four, not sixteen anymore. I can – I’ll see you tomorrow night. Yes, I’ll check in from the hotel. Gotta go. The Super Triplets are here. …you, too.” Dick pocketed his phone and shared a knowing smile with the twins. “Your dad has heat vision and can lift a truck. My dad knows when I have to shit and puts Benefiber in my coffee.”
Clark snorted, not unlike Jonathan. “He does not.”
Dick glared without blinking, and Jordan fought to not laugh.
“Dick, he doesn’t.”
Dick crossed his arms and waited.
“Dick, come on. You can’t be serious.” Clark then lowered his head, his voice dropping to a whisper. “…does he?”
“The fact that you actually don’t know says something, Clark.” Dick put out his hand to John. “Mr. Irons, a pleasure. If you ever need anything, please do not hesitate to call.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, Mr. Grayson.”
A quick embrace to Lois, followed by a longer one from Clark, and then Dick straddled his motorcycle before leveling Jordan and Jonathan with a sharp glare. “You two – don’t follow your dad’s example. When you need help, call me, or next time, I might have to bring a certain bat-loving vigilante with me.”
“Can you bring Mr. Wayne instead?” Jonathan asked.
Jordan hit him the side. Dick rolled his eyes. “Unbelievable.”
He then took off – down the driveway of the Kents’ Farm and onto the main road.
Dick’s parting words were awkward and harsher than he ever spoke about Dad, but John interrupted his thoughts by rubbing his hands together. “Should we start dinner?”
“Actually, Dick, Nat, and I made a few dinners this morning before you guys got up.” Jonathan started back toward the house. “We popped them in the freezer. Should be good for the week.”
Lois drew him close and kissed his forehead before reaching out to Natalie. “I’m so proud of you both.”
“No biggie, Mom. Just trying to do more than hold the wrench.”
“You do more than hold a wrench.” Jordan hit Jonathan in the shoulder with his own. “You hold a spatula, too.”
“Hey!” Clark grabbed him in a headlock and dragged him, not unkindly, toward the house. “Some of the best meals I’ve ever had have been right after a large battle because I didn’t have to cook them.”
“You must have been hungry to eat Mom’s cooking.”
“Let him go, Clark,” Lois warned, a dangerous but playful glint in her eyes. “Our son needs a reminder that you won’t save him from me.”
Laughter followed the family into the home, though Clark stopped at the screen door. “Why don’t you start heating up dinner, Jordan? Since your brother and Natalie were kind enough to cook it. And I’ll be right back to help.”
By the time Jordan turned to ask, “Can I use heat vision to warm it?” Clark was already gone.
The sudden large gust of air wasn’t unexpected, and Dick slowed his motorcycle once its lights revealed a man standing in the middle of the road. Surrounded by the Kents’ cornfields and not another soul in sight, Dick didn’t even pull off the road.
“I can’t imagine stopping in the middle of the road like this in Gotham,” Dick said as he unbuckled his helmet and tugged it off.
“Well, Gotham is its own type of beast.” Clark still wore his jacket, jeans, and glasses. “Dick, I honestly don’t know what to say. Jonathan said you, he, and Natalie – ”
“ – made amazing banana and apple cinnamon pancakes, right? Alfred’s special recipe.”
“You know that’s not what I mean.” Clark glanced behind him at the empty road before looking at Dick. “Let me give you a ride back to Gotham.”
“Nope, can’t do that.”
“Dick – ”
“You didn’t call me, Clark.” The anger he’d kept under the surface the last few days bubbled to the top. “Family calls one another when they need help.”
Clark sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “It didn’t concern – ”
“Jonathan told me what happened. Your brother injecting Kryptonian consciousnesses into humans, you being taken over by a genocidal mantic, a superhero coming from another dimension, Jordan being kidnapped – like hell it didn’t concern me, not if we’re family.”
Clark crossed his arms over his chest. “You never ask for my help. All these years, you never once used the ELT.”
“And I never will – unless it really is the end of the world,” Dick asserted, though his voice softened. “You’ve already done so much for me.”
“And you’ve done so much for us, Dick. Anytime I had to go off planet, you always came to Metropolis.”
“And that shouldn’t change just because you moved to Smallville.” He shook his head, eyes shimmering in the moonlight. “Clark, don’t you know what you’ve done for me? I know you took me when Bruce deemed some cases too dangerous for me to stay home.”
“It was great to have someone to go to Meteors games with.”
“You’re the world’s greatest superhero, and you babysat your rich friend’s son. And you did so without complaint.”
Clark reached out to grasp Dick’s shoulder warmly. “Spending time with you is a gift, Dick.”
“A large part of who I am is because of that time, Clark. Because of you. If I can have a tenth of an impact upon your sons as you had on me – I’ll consider myself lucky.”
“It can’t be one way and not the other,” Clark said with a firm edge to his voice. “If you expect me to call you, then you have to call me. That’s how family works.”
Dick groaned and tipped his head back. “Ugh. I walked right into that, didn’t I?”
“You did.” A soft smile crossed his features. “Come on. Let me give you a ride home. I can have you in Gotham before your evening patrol with Bruce.”
“Fiiiine.” He pointed a finger at Clark. “But only if the next time there’s an issue, you’ll actually call me.”
Clark put a hand. “You have my word.”
“You better because I know where to find you.” Dick pulled on his helmet and buckled the strap. “Oh, and Clark?”
Clark bent down to grab the front of Dick’s motorcycle. “Yeah?”
“Bruce doesn’t put Benefiber in my coffee, but he does check my tracker every so often.” As if on cue, Dick’s cellphone rang again.
The End