Visit
AU. Major character death. Future fic.
Summary: Tim pays Kon a visit.
Tim set the bouquet of flowers down near a grave. They were white adeniums. He'd read from somewhere that a culture offered these kinds of flowers to the dead, especially the white ones.
"Hey, Kon," whispered Tim, smiling a bit. The November breeze blew, and Tim tried to block out the cold by fixing his coat and putting up the collar. "How's it going up there?" It was like this every year. He'd go to Smallville to offer flowers and talk Conner's grave marker, as if updating him on what was happening with his life.
"We're doing okay down here," he said, and knelt in front of the stone, and touched it with a gloved hand, tracing the engraved letters. "I still wish you were here. Every day. We miss you. I miss you. A lot."
Ten years had passed. Tim wasn't going to say that he'd moved on. Maybe he already did, but maybe not completely. Because thinking of Conner, who had been taken from them far beyond his time, still hurt. He was so young and could've done so much.
"Daddy!"
Tim stood up and turned around, and smiled. "C'mere, Kon," he motioned the boy, who was about twenty feet from him, to come over to him.
"Are we going to Grandma Martha's now?" he asked, approaching Tim. "Is Grandpa Kal going to be there, too?"
"Conroy, hurry up," said Tim.
Conroy ran, and held Tim's hand when he got to him. He stared at the slab of stone. "You miss him a lot, don't you, Daddy?" he looked up at Tim.
"Yeah, I do," said Tim, looking back at Conroy who looked so much like Conner he swore the cloning machine must've dropped his DNA somewhere in the tube.
"Am I going to be Superboy, too, Daddy? Like Papa was?" Conroy always told Tim he'd help his Grandpa Kal save the world like his father did.
"When Grandpa Kal and Grandpa Bruce think you're ready," Tim smiled at him, then turned to Conner.
Conroy frowned. "Grandpa Bruce will never think I'm ready."
"Work hard and prove to him that you are, Kon," said Tim, ruffling his son's hair. If Tim were the boss he'd never let Conroy go in the 'family business,' but he thought he'd never be able to stop Conroy from doing what he wanted. "Bye, Conner. See you on our next visit. I love you," he let go of the boy's and hand kissed his gloved hand, and touched the stone with it.
Conroy held Tim's hand again when he stood up. He waved at the stone, and said, "Bye, Papa," and turned around to walk back to the car as another breeze blew.
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