Apparently, Clark had been far more eager to get Kon checked than Kon had previously assumed, because as soon as they were done cleaning up Ma's kitchen and changing the floors into brand-new, fire retardant tiles - that Ma' had eyed for just a moment before instructing Clark to thank 'that sweet Bruce boy' for her - he was back in Clark's arms and on his way to the mystical magical lair of Madame Xanadu.

… that honestly wasn't as impressive as he had once imagined, considering it mostly looked like a small corner-shop in the middle of a city.

Clark had suggested they meet with Dr. Fate at first, him being a more active member of the League and a trusted ally, but Kon had quickly expressed his hesitation, since Dr. Fate had once been Zatanna's dad and he didn't feel he'd be able to concentrate around the man knowing he was prisoner of whatever entity the helmet of Fate held.

Not since he was finally coming onto the whole 'I have a dad too now' idea and it, somehow, made him empathize with his former team mate.

Clark had rubbed at the back of his neck, visibly uncomfortable at the reminder, before explaining that there was another alternative but that he would have to be very respectful and never try to mention Madame Xanadu's actual age.

"Ah, I knew you would come to me, dear Kon son of El." Madame greeted with a smile, ushering Kon and Clark in with a small wave of her hand. "Tea?"

Kon proceeded to ignore the way Clark politely accepted and explained their situation to Xanadu, mostly entertaining himself with the mess that was Madame's parlor, a mix of silks and wools and colors that seemed to blend with the shadows and threaten to swallow him whole.

Maybe Dr. Fate wouldn't have been as bad an option?

"Oh, cease such treacherous thoughts, youngest El!" Madame Xanadu scolded as she draped herself dramatically on her chair. "There is no way that old goat would be able to give you a gift such as the one I have in store for you."

Kon blinked, his cheeks coloring - not as red as Clark's, at the very least, but red nonetheless - as he realized that, of course a mind adept would be able to read his thoughts.

He shifted uncomfortably.

"Oh, none of that, dearest," she said, shaking her head fondly. "I am not as callous as the Martians in my ventures and the comparison, though subconscious, still hurts. I can only interpret thoughts that are directed or intrinsically about me."

Clark laid a careful hand on his shoulder, his support clear.

Kon nodded.

"I'm sorry?" He said, approaching Madame Xanadu.

She smiled at him, ruby red lips curling fondly.

"As I said, do not fret, young El," she said, waving a dismissive hand. "It will be my honor to touch a fated mind such as your own."

"A… fated mind, Madame?" Clark said, his brows furrowing.

Madame's eyes glinted preternaturally.

"I call your son fated because that is what he is, Superman," she replied simply, her hand reaching to hold Kon's and rest it over her table, forcing the teen to sit on a plush chair in front of her. "The pull of destiny is strong in your blood, but particularly the strongest in your child. You should consider yourselves blessed."

"Blessed..." Clark parroted.

"Destiny?" Kon asked, confused. "I'm a clone, a copy. I don't think I have much destiny to speak of..."

"Nonsense," Madame said, her smile gentle. "All souls have a destiny, young one."

Clark coughed uncomfortably.

"Madame, while I appreciate the goodwill towards Superboy I must ask that you..."

"Check his mind for lingering damage, I know," she interrupted, rolling her eyes. "I'm in the process right now, Superman, no need to be rude. I was merely making small talk so the young man would not be bored."

Clark flushed again.

Kon felt himself smile, while her words were confusing, he found he was starting to like Madame Xanadu's directness, she reminded him of Ma' a little.

"Everything okay?" he asked, if only to spare his mentor/sorta-dad further embarrassment.

"Everything seems to be in order so far," Xanadu assured. "There is some sign of struggle, most likely from when you forced that girl from your mind, but so far it seems to be healing nicely. You have quite a strong mental protection."

Kon nodded, feeling a sort of relief he hadn't been aware he was in need of.

"But… Kon-El will be okay?" Clark hesitated, his smile not as bright. "Is there a way to… protect him from… further intrusions?"

Xanadu shook her head, her eyes fond.

"I see you have considered this issue more than your peers imagined, Superman," she said, her fingers tracing the lines on the palm of Kon's hand. "Do not fret for your child, my friend. The tides of fate have entwined in the fabric of the universe in his favor. He shall not suffer unnecessarily."

"Fate..." Kon trailed off. "Fate wanted her to hurt me?"

"Oh, no no no!" Xanadu said quickly, her eyes wide in horror. "Nothing as terrible as that, dear boy, oh no."

Clark's hand on his shoulder tensed, and Kon could tell he was quickly losing his legendary patience. Kon felt... safe, with that hand on him.

"The tendrils of fate are entwined yet mobile, Kon-El," Xanadu tried to explain. "Yes, there will be trials in your path, I can tell, but all those falls will only lead to better things, all the times you feel yourself fail will be times when opportunity and fortune will appear before you."

Kon felt he could understand a little. Apparently it was a part of his fate that M'gann would betray him, to hurt him, it was his fate that had ruined his life.

Yet that same fate, that same hurt had been the trigger that allowed him and Clark to become close, had allowed him to meet Ma' and Pa'. To find a home, and a family and people he could feel he could call friends…

… Tim.

He swallowed.

Madame Xanadu let out a soft sigh, both hands reaching to cradle Kon's.

"You honestly don't know how blessed you are, you poor boy," she whispered. "I feel I am breaching a taboo of some sort by giving you this knowledge, but…"

Her eyes grew fierce, her hands tight.

"You are what we call a Universal Constant. In every universe of the multiverse, there is a Kon-El in one way or another," she said finally, her lips quirking. "I can see how the threads that connect you to the source of the multiverse are kind, how they want your happiness over all things, which is why I want to believe the keep you so close to those who will always support you."

Clark's hand on his shoulder relaxed a little.

"People… constant… Always?" he asked, shocked.

Xanadu raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

"Always, Superman," she simpered. "If there is a Superboy in any universe, he will have contact with a version of you, he will meet your circles and find a parental figure among them."

Xanadu's hands on Kon's grew tender again.

"By all the gods, the universe has even paired you off with that little Robin boy in every universe," she joked.

Kon sat straighter in his chair.

"Robin and I?" he asked, his voice gaining eagerness. "We are always together?"

Xanadu nodded.

"Well, yes," she said. "From all the universes I've glimpsed upon, if there is a young man who can be identified as the Superboy, he and Robin are always together... Always a clone of the Superman, always the same young Robin."

"Can I see?" Kon interrupted, his eyes wide, his hand, still enveloped by Madame Xanadu, trembled.

Superman opened his mouth, clearly unsure.

The woman smiled again.

"If you wish to," she nodded. "It will provide a good distraction while I apply some more protection to your mental shields, if only for your father's peace of mind. Just remember that you are nothing but an observer. You will not be able to touch, you will not be heard or see..."

"Yes, I understand."

Clark definitely had something to say about the whole ordeal, about universe jumping and the horrors that Kon-El might encounter.

However, before he could offer a warning, a rebuttal, a nervous 'I am not Kon-El's father!', before he could even utter Kon's name, Madame Xanadu had already waved her fingers in the air, sparkles dancing between her fingertips, and the clone was enveloped by a warm, white light.

When he was finally able to open his eyes he was standing in a beach, the wind was cool and the weather perfect for what his former team called a 'day off exercise'.

Bart ran past him, through him, young and cheerful and a little bit deranged, his feet invisible with the speed he was using, his torso pale and skinny in his ridiculous swimming shorts.

A curvy blond haired girl in a bikini – a little girl, what was she? Fourteen? - ran after him, her eyes wide as she examined the path he was leaving behind on the sand.

"He's actually doing it!" she gasped. "He's making glass!"

"No way!" another girl, also so small and innocent, also a blond, said, as she approached as well, her hand reaching for the melting sand. "You're right, Cissy! Guys! Check this out!"

Kon followed her line of sight, her waving arm and found himself staring…

At himself.

His same blue eyes, his same black hair, though this Kon's was longer, curly, it made him wonder if his own hair would curl if he let it grow, the same shape of his chin - rounder than Clark's, pointier than Luthor's, - this him even had pierced the same ear Kon had, only this one was wearing a gold ring on it.

Also, he was a lot younger than Kon himself, a lot shorter, skinnier.

"Way! I win, bro!" his younger, skinnier self cackled, his grin wide, his eyes light as he floated – he floated, he could actually fly – over another small teen in a hoodie and shorts who was busily typing on a laptop, his dark hair and dark sunglasses covering most of his round face.

Kon felt his heart skip a beat.

Tim looked up at the young Superboy, his eyes clear in their disbelief.

"I don't remember ever betting with you," he said teasingly. "Especially over something like Bart's speed."

Kon's other self pouted, his arms reaching to wrap around Tim's neck.

"What? Come on!" he whined. "You said you'd come to the beach with us if Bart could melt the sand with his feet!"

"And here I am, am I not?" Tim replied, shaking his head.

"No? You are sitting under a stupid umbrella like one of those old movie ladies while we have fun!" Younger Superboy scowled. "At least take your hoodie off and try to tan away all the dreadful bat paleness, bro! Let the girls see your bodacious buff!"

Tim stared at his younger self with a raised eyebrow, despite the fondness in his eyes.

Superboy reacted fast then, faster and with more assurance than Kon felt he would ever be able to achieve – yes, Kon was a little jealous of this younger, flying, far more confident counterpart of his – and he wrapped Tim in his arms, holding him tight, hiding his face on Tim's neck as if to keep himself strong with the sound of Tim's quickening pulse.

"I'm glad you could come, bro,"

Tim's smile was small, shy, the same smile Kon's Tim had around him.

His hands covered Superboy's.

"Yeah," he said, his forehead resting on top of Superboy's hair. "Thanks."

Madame Xanadu rested a hand on Kon's shoulder, smiling at him, pulling him from the scene.

"Ready for another jump?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with her power.

Kon nodded, muted, unsure.

This alternate version of him and Tim seemed to be the best of friends, the way they seemed to understand eachother, how comforted Tim seemed to be while in this Superboy's arms…

… then again, this Superboy was confident, loud, a complete opposite of Kon himself.

This Superboy could fly while he could not.

He swallowed, wondering if he would be adequate to make his Tim smile like that.

A new flash of light blinded him.

This time there was an explosion, by the time he came to.

What looked like humanoid-looking robots were swarming around a group of teenagers.

Bart was there, once again, as was the blond girl Kon was starting to identify as Wonder Girl though her costume looked far too revealing for his tastes… a lot uncomfortable too.

And there, right in the middle of the group… were Tim and Superboy.

A little bit older than himself and Kon's Tim, a little bit more jagged, battle worn, dirty.

"What now?" Superboy hissed, his back to Tim, his eyes glinting red. "You are the brains here, kid."

"Shut up, and don't call me that, I'm way older than you." Tim hissed back. "I need you to float ten feet above keeping your body horizontal and your hands outstretched."

"What?" Superboy yelled, eyes wide.

"Stop flirting and start acting," Wonder Girl snapped,– yeah, Kon was definitely sure this was Wonder Girl – her lasso snapping like a whip.

"Do it!" Tim protested at the same time as Superboy growled: "Red's not my type."

Kon watched them fight, all coordinated but rough at the edges, they reminded him of the way his former team – the team with Nightwing and Wally and Artemis and… M'gann – used to fight, how they would sometimes turn back to make sure the others would still be behind them, all okay.

Superboy finally did as told, his eyes darting back and forth nervously, his muscles tensing, his shoulders squared.

Tim looked at Bart, his smile crooked, sad, before the other teen grabbed him by the waist and started spinning, faster and faster, slowly releasing him until the smaller teen was flying in the air, his red and black uniform bright under the sun and the beams of lasers.

Then… he was falling.

"Red!" Wonder Girl cried in shock.

Superboy managed to look startled for just a second before Tim's foot was on his head, his hands grasping Superboy's outstretched ones to balance himself, no, to propel himself over the hordes of robots and into an innocuous-looking machine innocently humming behind a rock.

With a cry of excitement – adrenaline and quick-wit and a little cockiness Kon imagined would look in his Tim's younger face – he plunged a batarang on the thing, shielding his eyes from the sparks that flew as the machine let out a pitiful shriek before falling completely silent.

… just as the robots attacking his teams seemed to fall to the ground, marionettes with their strings cut.

"Good one, Red!" Bart yelled, excitement making him vibrate.

"Phew, about time!" Wonder Girl huffed, arms crossing over her chest.

"You used me as leverage!" Superboy scowled, his eyes wide. "What the fuck!?"

"Calm down, amigo!" a teen in purple that was definitely not Jaime laughed, wrapping his arms around Tim as the other teen seemed to sway in place, ready to fall unconscious. "You okay, cariño?"

"Yeah, just tired," Tim assured, a hand on the teen-in-purple's arm. "We should probably go before the army gets here? Let them do the clean up?"

Wonder Girl, Bart and teen-in-purple laughed, nodding their agreement.

None noticed the way Superboy's eyes narrowed, his cheeks flushed, he was not angry, Kon could tell, especially considering the way his eyes zeroed in the way teen-in-purple's arms seemed to fit so snugly around Tim's waist, the way the other teen seemed comfortable with such demonstrations of affection.

"He was jealous," Kon told Madame Xanadu when she appeared by his side. "He was jealous that someone had Tim in their arms."

"He was," Madame agreed. "Some versions of you are… not as honest as one would appreciate, not even to themselves."

Kon nodded, feeling an immense sadness at this counterpart of his. Yes, this other version of him could fly, and yes, he obviously had a confidence in him that Kon did not have, just like the previous one, but his bond with Tim, the thing that made them just them was not there.

Not for lack of wanting, obviously, but maybe circumstances had kept them from being better friends?

Poor him of that world.

Xanadu sighed, petting his hair.

"Come on, we'll do a lightning round now, some universes are weirder than others but not much detail for you to see," she said, waving her hands.

Once more, there was the light.

He found himself first, this time, flying through the streets of Metropolis – another him that could fly, it seemed – doing his best to keep up with a figure jumping from rooftop to rooftop, his eyes narrowed against the night air, his lips pulled down into a frown.

"Stop!" he yelled.

"What if I like to be chased down by handsome young things like yourself?" the figure teased, voice throaty, smooth yet young.

Kon finally could distinguish the black leather encasing the man – yeah, it was a man, a teen – the way his hips seemed to undulate with every step, how his eyes were heavy lidded, seductive.

"Just give me what you took and I'll forget we ever saw eachother," Superboy tried again, finally catching up with him, reaching with a hand to grasp at his arm.

The other teen turned, his smile wide, his eyes piercing blue behind his goggles.

Kon's eyes widened.

Tim?

"Now where would be the fun in that?" he asked, clawed fingers running over the S on Kon's chest.

"You are breaking the law," Superboy said nervously. "If you came with me and …"

"Joined your little superhero squad?" Tim interrupted, purring. "If Mama Cat didn't fall for The Bat's speech, what makes you think I would fall for yours? I'm a free kitty, Superboy, I can't be tamed."

"Catlad," Superboy growled, his cheeks a bright red.

"Oh, I wish I could take you with me…" Tim grinned, eyes wicked, the back of his fingers caressing Superboy's cheekbones. "Alas, a shame we are in opposite sides of the night, isn't it?"

"Wha-" Kon was sure Superboy had a plan, something to say to maybe sway Tim to his side. However Tim was faster, his hands reaching for the belt resting low on his hips, his lips reaching to peck Superboy's own and, suddenly, they were enveloped by a thick, purplish smoke that made Superboy choke and take a step back, coughing all the while.

By the time he was able to see again, breathe normally again…

… Catlad, Tim, was gone.

Superboy raised a trembling hand to his lips.

"Damn it," he whispered.

Another flash of light.

Kon found this version of himself the strangest, back in his long-ish, fluffy curly hair and a leather jacket. The S on his chest, however, was replaced by a strange spider, he was swinging from what appeared to be webs from building to building, his cocky smile seemed to fit his younger face.

By his side, using the usual grapple hook Kon had grown used to seen Tim use, was Robin.

A girl Robin with pink lips and curled eyelashes.

"Come on, babe!" he said against the wind, making the girl raise an unimpressed eyebrow. "One chance and I'll prove to you I can be worth your time."

Girl Robin shook her head, her short hair falling into her eyes.

"You do realize my mentor will kick your ass if he sees you here?" she asked, her tone sarcastic, biting, the kind of tone Tim used with Roy.

"Not if I'm trying to ask his baby girl out, right?" this Superboy – spiderboy? – asked back, performing an impressive somersault before catching up to her again.

Robin laughed.

"You are definitely out of your league, kid," she said, still giggling. "Tell you what, help me catch clayface over there and then you can invite me a soda."

Kon's counterpart shrugged.

"Sounds good to me," he agreed.

The two of them jumped into the fight.

Another flash of light.

There was a statue of Kon in this universe, massive and golden, his hand pointing out to the horizon, a beacon for future generations.

Tim was there too, sitting on his golden shoulder, resting his forehead on Superboy's massive cheek.

His mask wet.

"I know I should be moving on," he whispered, his voice broken, hoarse. "You wouldn't want me to be like this but…"

A gauntled hand reached to caress the bronze before him, a tear slid down an ivory cheek.

"I don't think I can keep going," Tim finally confessed with a soft sob. "Not without you, Kon."

Kon watched impotently as Tim finally allowed himself to cry, whispering his name over and over, barely holding onto his voice as if not to rouse the other teens still inside the building behind them.

The inscription on the statue answered whatever questions the clone would have.

'Superboy', it read. 'Brave Hero, Best Friend, Hope.' And a date, most likely the date of his demise.

Kon felt his heart clench.

Another flash of light.

This time, he was inside a rundown apartment in what appeared to be a bad part of Gotham if the police cars passing by his window were any indication, the stench of alcohol and sweat and things Kon didn't want to mention reached his nose.

He was there, well, the other him was there, stubbled and red-eyed, dirty and pale.

Knees folded to his chest, arms around his legs, face partially hidden by a pillow on the floor.

The phone to his left rang without being answered once, twice, three times, before going straight to voicemail.

"This is Tim Drake-Wayne," the machine said cheerfully. Kon's heart skipped a beat, at the same time as his counterpart let out a small sob. "If you have this number you know I am most likely busy with my- ah, night job, please leave your message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can."

Kon's counterpart hid his face in the pillow for a moment.

"Kon-El, this is Kal-El," called Clark's voice from the phone. "I know you are there, son. Please, pick up."

Kon's counterpart shook his head, his eyes watering until there were fresh tears running down his skin.

"I know you miss Tim, Kon-El, believe me, I understand but…" Clark seemed to hesitate, his voice muted, defeated in was Kon had never heard it before. "But you can't do this to yourself! Tim would have never wanted you to do this, he was your friend and I'm sure he would have-"

"He was more than that! He was my everything!" Kon's counterpart finally cried, his eyes narrowed, a red beam of energy shooting from them and destroying the answering machine and the phone.

His eyes widened.

"Oh no," he whimpered, standing up a little. "No, that was Tim's recording, that was his voice."

Kon could finally see that, clutched to his chest, was Tim's red and black shirt, the golden R peeling in places, stained red and brown with blood.

He didn't have to ask to know exactly what was happening in this universe.

He closed his eyes.

Another flash of light.

Kon instantly spotted Tim, this new universe's Tim, his back ramrod straight, his pose proud, a new sort of red-and-black uniform that had a cowl covering his face.

He seemed deep in thought.

"Why so happy?" Kon's counterpart – and exact copy of him, this time, down to the black shirt and jeans – "Let me guess… sale on leather?"

Tim did not answer, he seemed frozen in shock.

"You are going to get matching chaps? Is that is?" his counterpart continued, finally landing before his friend, blinking. "Tim?"

Tim didn't move.

"Hello?" he asked, waving a hand before the other teen's eyes. "Okay, now you are creeping me out. Will you say…"

Tim finally reacted, a beautiful, wide smile curling his lips as he launched himself at Superboy, wrapping his arms around him, his head resting on top of his heart.

"… Something?" Superboy asked, eyes wide. His body tense and unsure what to do, his cheeks flushed. "Tim? Buddy? If you are trying to be all dark and grim now, this isn't going to help."

"You are alive!" Tim cried, his voice soft, overcome with emotions. "You were dead, Bart was dead. You don't know what that was like and now you are back."

Kon could tell his counterpart had a witty come back to that, a muttered "I know, so do you…" but Tim was pulling his cowl back – he was older than Kon's Tim, his hair a little longer, framing his face, accentuating his loveliness – his eyes red-rimmed, hopeful, bluer than ever.

Superboy swallowed.

"I'm sorry I had to go," he whispered, his hand cupping Tim's cheek with infinite tenderness.

Tim stared at him, his teeth sinking onto his bottom lip for a moment.

"Don't do it again," he whispered. "I don't think I'm strong enough for a second time. I would follow you if it ever happened."

Superboy finally wrapped his arms around Tim, cradling him impossibly closer, trying to protect him for the world with his presence alone.

"Never," he promised, voice hesitant, knowing it was a promise none of them were ever sure they could keep. "I won't ever leave you again."

They locked gazes for a moment, the silence of the night enveloping them.

Their lips met in half sweetness, half desperation, Kon's counterpart's hands reaching to play with Tim's hair, Tim's hands resting on top of Kon's chest, feeling his heartbeat, reassuring himself.

Kon watched, his eyes wide, as if the idea that these two counterparts of theirs could be more, would be more than friends, had never occurred to him.

With a blink, he was back inside Madame Xanadu's parlor, Clark's hand on his shoulder tense as he shook him, trying to get his attention.

"What happened to him?!" he asked, eyes accusingly on the woman who was staring at him as well, her own eyes wide.

"I think I showed him possibilities he had not considered himself," she said, her cheeks pink.

"Kon-El?" Clark asked again, his worry evident on his face.

Kon turned to him, his cheeks pink.

"Tim and I… we were…" he fell silent. "He and I…"

Clark's shoulders slumped.

"Oh," he whispered, his own eyes widening.

Madame Xanadu shrugged, composing herself.

"It's usually what happens when there is a universal constant," she explained. "Those entwined in the constant tend to be, well, constant."

"I… I see," Clark agreed, slowly approaching the woman and muttering his thanks to her, shaking her hand hesitantly and inquiring about the protections she had been waving into Kon's mind as he enjoyed his… glimpses.

Kon didn't pay any attention to them, his mind slowly processing all that he had witnessed.

Tim and he... they were more than the best of friends, if the other universes were to be believed.

They were soulmates.