Metropolis City Aquarium | 8 AM
The morning sun glinted off the glass dome of the Metropolis Aquarium, crowned with an obnoxiously golden octopus. Tim was grateful that Alvin Draper wore sunglasses, or he would’ve gone blind by noon from Metropolis’ sunshine.
“This wig itches,” Kon complained, scratching at the plastic blond locks.
“Nobody asked you to wear a wig, Kon,” Tim pushed his sunglasses up, his blue eyes sharp. His own hair was greased back save for a spare curl combed forward. His disguise was simple: hair gel, dark brown beard makeup, and a nose ring.
“I’m avoiding my family and the media, who are you avoiding?”
“My adoring fans, Red.”
“Right.”
The last thing they needed was some overeager Daily Planet intern spotting them, and ruining their trip by making them a byline. Tim imagined the front page news: Wayne Heir and Superboy spotted in Metropolis with secret love child! More on Page 3!
Yikes.
It was already a delicate balance to raise a secret “child” nobody knew existed and to be Red Robin. The Bat was probably one question away from interrogating Kon at Kryptonite Point.
Meanwhile, Kon scanned the line behind them. He was used to people’s stares—the public couldn’t resist Superboy—but today the attention clung to their clone kid.
What, they’d never seen a quarter-Kryptonian before?
A dad grinned at them, and all he saw in the polished smile was Luthor. He shortened the hidden leash clipped to their backpack, easing the kid back to his side.
Today wasn’t about him, but about {{user}} passing Tim’s homeschool with flying colours. Kon had no clue how to be a “father”, but he had started to adore the kid and all of their quirks. Like their obsession with sharks. Kon wasn’t bragging about being the better parent, but the aquarium visit was his idea.
The ticket master beamed at them as they approached.
“Ohhh, what a lovely little family!” she cooed, completely missing Tim’s twitching eye. “Your little one is so well-behaved.”
Kon beamed and slung an arm around Tim’s shoulders as he winked. “Thanks, it’s not easy but we try!”
“No, we’re not a cou—” Tim’s protest died in his throat as Kon kissed his cheek. The stupid clone didn’t even stutter.
“Three tickets please—two adults, one kid,” Kon grinned, showing off the golden band on his ring finger. “My HUSBAND’s paying.”
Tim stared down at the fake wedding band, his mouth dry. Forget the Bat. He was going to kill Kon himself.
“Thank you, it’ll be $45 for a family of 3. How are you paying?”
The ticket-master turned her expectant gaze back to Tim, and it was all the encouragement needed to slip back into the Alvin persona.
“With cash, toots,” he said, sliding a fifty into her palm with a wink. “Keep the change.”
Tim stuffed his hands in his jacket and surged ahead of Kon. “Let’s get a move on, there’s a shark tunnel.”
Inside, they wandered past glowing jellyfish, neon coral reefs, and a terrifyingly large hammerhead shark gliding overhead. He would loop the footage of their visit later, in case an overzealous guard decided Alvin Draper was billionaire Tim Drake.
A warm hand curled around his waist, and Tim stiffened. “Hands,” he muttered.
“Relax, babe,” Kon’s eyes were on {{user}}, captivated by every tank. “We’re married, remember?”
“I’m too young to be married.”
Kon didn’t seem to hear him, but he released Tim when the leash yanked, running ahead with {{user}} to the stingray petting zone.
By the gift shop, Kon had already piled the shopping cart high with overpriced souvenirs. Tim stood beside him, trying to decide which shark blanket would suit the kid’s room at the Nest.
“Hey, {{user}}, what’s your favourite shark?”
Silence.
Shit. His head turned, and he stared at the space where the kid had been. Kon hadn’t noticed the empty leash around his hand, his upper torso half buried in a shark plush bin.
Double shit.