Archive of Our Own ^beta

It couldn't really place a finger on what Lois and Clark's relationship was. Lois just kept popping in at the apartment and sometimes she stayed the night. Those nights, they always talked all quiet, as if any louder and they would wake up the world. Their talks were usually updates about some other kid when it couldn't resist eavesdropping. Jon, his name was. How he was doing at his first year of elementary school down in Smallville, how he was adjusting to being on the farm, how well or poorly he was eating. Was Ma and Pa fostering a kid? It hadn't gone inside or checked the heartbeats in the main house, not since it moved to Metropolis, but maybe it should check. It was curious. Jon sounded like a good kid. Ma always brought some food out to the creek, so they could eat supper and watch the sun set before sending Thirteen back home with Clark.

Lois appeared more often when Clark said that he had a really pressing deadline. Thirteen would witness the living room in total chaos, full of papers and smears of red ink, with Lois and Clark in the middle of it all. Lois would adjust her reading glasses while Clark would toss aside his fake "perscription" glasses to narrow his eyes at whatever she was typing on the computer.

Thirteen kinda avoided the apartment at those times, since Clark would always concern himself more with Thirteen than what he was working on and it didn't want to interrupt him. It always hung out with Tim, then, when he was around. They went to the skate park or the arcade and filled themselves with boba and ramen until they were close to passing out into a food coma.

The next Saturday arrived, and the living room started neat. It always started neat, with Clark's constant cleaning. Lois had come over in a suit with a pencil skirt, clearly having just had a long interview on her feet by the way she gingerly toed her heels off with a wince. She kept cursing under her breath until she could sit down on the couch and take the weight off her feet. 

Clark sat beside Thirteen on the couch, holding its hand in a show of support. It had grown more comfortable with speaking out loud without feeling forced, so the AAC was just charging in the kitchen.

Lois got out her work phone, placing it on the coffee table between them. It was open to the voice recording app but the record button hadn't been pressed yet. She got out her notepad and pen.

"Do you consent to your statement being taken and used in an article exposing Lex Luthor in the near future?" She asked.

"I consent." It replied.

She tilted her head, looking between Thirteen and Clark.

"Do you consent to being named in the article?"

Thirteen froze.

It didn't even know what it was named legally. Its history classes were under T. Kent. All it had was its label.

Clark tensed.

"Lois–"

Thirteen interrupted him.

"I don't have a name, though. I have a label." It said, confused. "I've never thought about having a name."

Lois set down her notepad just to put her head in her hands.

"Clark, Honey, what did you put on their government records?"

He chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Trenton? It was supposed to be a placeholder until Thirteen got far enough in therapy to consider a name for themself." He admitted.

Thirteen wheezed out a laugh even as it got a sick feeling in its stomach.

It was probably nothing.

"That's close to what Tim calls me. Tim calls me Tretton in public." It snickered. "Norwegian for Thirteen." It explained at Lois's confused look. "I'm not sure if I'll ever actually choose a name for myself, to be honest."

Tim's name for it fit pretty well and Clark always called it nicknames. It was content with that.

Clark shrugged.

"That's okay." He smiled at it. "Besides, as Thirteen's guardian, I do not consent for them to be mentioned by name or label."

There it was again, the bad feeling. What was the issue?

Lois picked back up her notepad.

"There we go. With that out of the way, shall we start?"

The interview was a blur once she hit the record button. Maybe its brain was protecting itself, maybe the questions were dumb, either way it didn't remember most of what it said. It just spoke until its voice went out and then brought out the AAC to say some more.

The more it said, the more Lois and Clark went all nauseated-looking. It was honestly quite funny from a certain point of view. 

At some point it zoned back in.

"–I lashed out, once. He called me an impertinent tool and told me I would regret it." It hesitated, tapping its fingers against the AAC case. "He was bleeding. I caused that. I had slapped him across the room and my nails dug into his face."

Lois breathed in. She breathed out.

"How did Luthor react to that?"

It used its right hand to cup the left side of its face, mirroring what Lex had done. It typed with its left hand.

"You already regret it, don't you?" It repeated, absently leaning into its own hand to mimick what happened. "Don't worry, I can fix you." 

"The mind control was the fixing, I'm getting?" Lois asked, her knuckles white as she wrote something down without looking.

"Yes." It dropped its hand from its cheek. "And no."

She frowned.

"How so?"

It smiled sadly.

"I was primed. I was never truely fixed." It guessed on the next bit. "If I was fixed, the failsafe that Robin exploited wouldn't have been necessary. What is fixed needs no correction."

It looked down at its hands. They were clean, the nails longer than the techs allowed, and black nailpolish covered each nail. They painted each other's nails their favorite colors earlier that day. Tim had left the apartment with his nails sunshine yellow with a smiley doodle on one in black permenent marker. Thirteen had a moon on its thumb, done in silver. It chuckled.

Lex's blood still seemed to stain its hands. This red that it couldn't shake.

"When you're unworthy, you get terminated." It stated matter-of-factly, meeting Lois's eyes. "When you're perfect, you aren't you."

—

The living room's been a mess for weeks.

It put its boots on, tossing its leather jacket over its shoulders to complement the crop top. Thirteen whistled to get Clark's attention. He lifted his head up from where he was hunched over a tablet.

"Yes, Sunshine?" 

Thirteen motioned with its head towards the front door, plucking its sunglasses off its head and actually wearing them properly.

"I'll be out for a bit. Going to hang out with Tim."

Clark smiled at it.

"Have fun!"

Thirteen beamed before grabbing its skateboard and its keys off the hooks. It made its way down to the lobby.

Tim spotted it immediately, grinning as he ran towards it and Thirteen caught him in an one-armed spin, hugging him.

"Tim!"

"Tretton!"

They laughed together and Thirteen put Tim down.

"There's a new game store, you said?"

Tim nodded.

"Yeah! It's right next to the bánh mì and boba place." He confirmed. "Boba then games?"

"Hell yeah!"

Thirteen tugged Tim with it out the doors and they both threw down their boards at the same time, hopping on mid-run.

It crouched down, chuckling as Tim stayed standing. They weaved between people with an ease that told of ages of practice. Thirteen stopped and hid its skateboard under the dumpster in the alley when they got there. Tim did the same.

Thirteen looked up at the screen displaying the menu as they got inside and in line, peering above its shades. Tim tilted his head at the options, having to crane his neck further because of his height.

"I don't actually know what to get this time." He muttered.

Huh, weird. He hadn't known how they would meet up earlier either, Thirteen had to make that decision.

Thirteen shrugged.

"Alright, I'll order for us." It glanced at Tim, fingering its wallet in its pocket. "Go get us a seat?"

Tim raised his eyebrow.

"And have you pay? I think the fuck not."

Thirteen shook its head.

"Come on, you can't just pay for everything." It argued as it stepped forward when the line moved. "Ma and Pa pay me for my work at the farm, you know."

Tim crossed his arms, stepping with it.

"You have a livable wage and work four times a week. I'm the spoiled rich kid." He snorted. "I have more money than I know what to do with."

Thirteen sighed.

"You keep talking about yourself like that, I'm going to have to walk you through the thought record forms that Dinah has me do." It threatened. "Also, no more Kent baskets for your trinkets if it comes down to it.

Tim pouted. 

"My point still stands." He grumbled lightheartedly. "Call it a favor or something."

Thirteen nodded, not wanting to drag this out any further. "Alright, you want me to order for you?" It double checked. Tim agreed.

They stepped up to the counter, and it a shot in the dark to try a new combo of flavors.

"Hi! Watermelon tea with mango bursting boba, regular sugar, light ice; as well as a blue tea with strawberry bursting boba, same sugar and ice levels, please." It rattled off. Robin and Superman themed, it realized with a smile. "That will be all."

Tim payed and the cashier looked between them, their eyes widened at Tim but quickly recovered.

"Name for the order?"

Tim glanced at Thirteen before smiling.

"Kent." Tim, notorious for posting pictures of his boba orders for millions to see, said confidently.

Thirteen let out an amused huff as they went to a table and waited. 

"You won't be able to post it like you usually do." It teased. "People'll see Kent instead of Tim or Drake and think a mile a minute." 

Tim winked at it, as if he wanted to say "Let them try."

"Want to be in the photo with me, then? It'll just be our hands and the boba." He assured. "Think of it as paying me back."

It wouldn't hurt.

Thirteen nudged him with its boot.

"Playing dirty." It chuckled. "Sure."

Its last name got called out and it brought back the teas to the table. It sat down and slid the Robin themed one towards Tim. Thirteen sipped at its Superman themed drink and grinned at the flavor. Tim sipped at his Robin themed drink before nodding.

"Sweet." He dug out his phone, holding out his tea with one hand. Thirteen mimicked him. Tim took a quick picture before putting his phone on the table between them. "Good with this?"

Thirteen picked up his phone, blinking down at the picture.

Tim's hand curled over the top of the cup and the slightest peak of the K on the order label showed on Thirteen's drink. His fingers were delicate, though also calloused with tiny scars that didn't show up on camera well, and his nails hadn't had the chance to chip yet from the most recent nail salon visit Thirteen, Bart, Tim, and Cassie had together. Thirteen's bracelets and rings were visible, catching the light a little. Its hands were bigger, more masculine. It frowned before fixing its face and handing the phone back. It was a clone of Clark, of course it looked masculine. That was just how things worked. It could be masculine without being Superboy.

"I'm good with it." It sipped at its tea. "I have an account on there, I think. I tried it for a little. I don't remember the username, though." It shrugged. It had only posted a few photos of the creek and some calfs before promptly forgetting about the platform. 

Tim waved a hand.

"I'll probably stumble upon it." He tapped at his phone a little before grinning and showing his screen. "Kone3, yeah? Can I tag you?" 

Thirteen nodded, dumbfounded.

"Yeah, you can tag me. How did you find it so quick?"

Tim smirked.

"Whenever you have to give a name for an order, you say Kent. It's always Kent. So K, and then go from there. It was honestly quite easy when I saw the preview had photos of Kent Farm." He sipped at his drink.

Thirteen rolled its eyes.

"Clark does the same thing. What, is he K1980 or something?"

Tim looked it dead in the eyes.

"That's his Chirper @." He said. "K_1989."

Seriously?

Thirteen covered its mouth and couldn't stop laughing for a while.

"Fuck, that's hilarious." It wiped the tears of laughter from its eyes when it calmed down. "I was guessing on birth year, but damn." 

Tim gestured with his hand.

"Anyways, just as a whole warning thing: Bruce doesn't shut up about Red Hood." He sighed. "Not for anything. I'm fourteen now, you would think he would know that I can handle myself, but nope. I'm functionally kicked out of Gotham because of his assumption that I am not good enough."

Thirteen frowned.

Robin was being targeted, then.

"I was wondering why you were practically attached to my hip." It remarked. The frequency of their hangouts went from every other weekend to almost every day recently. "Though, you're really unsupervised here even when Supes is bound to get there in two seconds. You're handling yourself fine, right?"

Tim laughed nervously.

"Well..." He messed with his half-filled cup for a moment, playing with the straw. "He's trying to send me to Jump City or Happy Harbor. I've switched hotels like five times and I'm running out of options that'll let a fourteen year old in without an adult with me. He's relentless." Tim groaned into his hands.

Thirteen frowned. It was odd to see Tim without a foothold. Without a plan. He hadn't had a single in-depth plan all day.

"I'll see if you can stay with me and Clark for a bit, make sure that Bruce is all secure in your whereabouts." It leaned its head back against the booth seating. "We don't have an extra room, though. Lois, maybe, but not Clark."

Tim shook his head.

"I can't ask that of you."

It flicked his forehead.

"Dummy, you're not asking shit. That's the problem." It returned softly.

Tim rubbed his head, curling in on himself.

"I'm trying." He finished his drink. "Everything's just... A lot."

Thirteen bit at its straw.

"Barry has room, right? Since Wally's moved out." It fiddled with the plastic of the straw wrapper, thinking. "Barry must be fine with you ducking down there for a month or so–"

Tim interrupted it.

"Could we stop? I don't..." He tugged at his hair. "You just had your interview last month, I don't know why I unloaded that on you. I'm sorry." 

Thirteen took a breath at the reminder.

"No apologies needed. Yes, we can stop." It held its worried tongue, instead focusing on finishing its drink. "Wanna hear about the most recent hoof cleanings?"

Tim gave it a smile, small as the movement was.

"I would love to."