#wip: Billy adopts Conner and it actually goes pretty good!

[suzukiblu]

Thank-you sentences for quietellen behind the cut; "Billy adopts Conner and it actually goes pretty good!" (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Hey, Lynn!” he greets cheerfully, and Lynn keeps staring–well, not-blankly at him, for whatever reason he’s doing that. But like, he guesses that’s Lynn’s business, really? “You ready? We picked out some good books, if you wanna take a–” look, he doesn’t finish saying, because Lynn crosses the living room really abruptly and then stops really abruptly right next to him, and Billy blinks at him and isn’t sure if– 

Lynn stares at him for a second, just kinda standing there, and then sort of–jolts, a little, and shifts back half a step. His expression still looks a little weird, but–well, okay, it’s probably only “weird” to him, Billy thinks, so that’s maybe not really a fair thought? Although then again, for all he knows it is weird for Lynn? It might even be an expression he’s never even worn before and wouldn’t even think was normal himself. Which, well, there’s a lot of things Lynn’s never done before, so maybe it’s just–

Billy is definitely overthinking things again, yeah. 

“Um,” he says, and Lynn keeps just kinda staring at him and looking . . . complicated, Billy’s gonna go with. “Do you wanna take a look at the books we picked? It’s okay if you changed your mind about it. We can figure out something else for, like, winding-down time. You said Kid Flash played music for you, right, did you like any of–?” 

Lynn all of a sudden just snatches Tawky off the coffee table and hugs him really tight against his stomach. He’s still staring at Billy, and Billy wonders if that means he’s worried he’s doing it wrong or something? Like . . . maybe? 

Technically nobody can really hug somebody wrong as long as the somebody they’re hugging doesn’t mind the way they’re doing it, Billy thinks? And Lynn is still kinda doing the more-like-a-chokehold thing, but Tawky obviously doesn’t mind, and he’s tough enough to take getting hugged a lot harder than Lynn’s hugging him anyway. So like, Billy figures it’s fine, probably? Like–probably it’s fine, he thinks? 

“I’m really glad you and Tawky are getting along!” he says cheerfully, figuring that either way it can’t hurt to say something nice to his own kid, and wonders if maybe Lynn’s kinda a hugger after all? Because this is already like the third time Lynn’s hugged Tawky since he met him and he’s carried him around a lot already, so like . . . maybe he is kinda the hugging type, actually? 

Which–well, that makes sense, Billy figures, because Tawky’s a lot smaller than Lynn is right now and also super soft and fluffy and also really polite and patient, so he’s always a really good choice for a hug anyway. And maybe to Lynn it kinda feels like–well, like as close as he knows how to get to getting carried around like babies and little kids like to be, even if it’s, like, subconscious or whatever. Or maybe he’s just carrying Tawky around so much because he wants carried around, so he’s just assuming Tawky would like that too and doesn’t know how else to make friends with him. That’s a thing Billy’s heard about really little kids before–that like, they don’t really get that other people are different people who might want or like different stuff from the kind of stuff they want or like themselves? So that might make sense, if Lynn’s trying to be nice but doesn’t really know how yet? 

That idea is really cute, actually, geez. Like really, really cute. 

Though maybe Lynn’s just kinda touch-starved in general, Billy thinks, which is less “cute” and more “majorly, majorly depressing” as a thought. But like, he’s not really sure how to ask “hey, do you maybe want me to pick you up again and maybe carry you around some, because I could definitely do that, I’m dad-sized for a REASON, you know,” in, like . . . any less dumb-sounding way, or at least any way that a teenager would not think was incredibly lame, so like . . . maybe he’ll have to figure something out there, he guesses. 

He doesn’t know, like . . . he'll workshop it, maybe? Flash and Green Lantern both say “we’ll workshop it” a lot when things get too weird or complicated. 

Usually, like, before stuff starts blowing up? But like, it’s almost always on purpose, so Billy figures it’s still applicable.

[nonbinary-octopus]

hello!

podfic of @suzukiblu's we have nothing to fear but ourselves which is the first story in the series where Billy adopts Conner and it actually goes pretty good!

AO3 link

tumblr link for the ongoing wip snippets

I gave character voices a try, and they kinda wandered around a little bit but I think it's still good!👍

[suzukiblu]

god I love this so much, I accidentally left the reblog in my drafts for way too long because Life Happened, but now we are correcting that error and getting it ON MY BLOG WHERE IT BELONGS.

There is so much to adore in this art, but my favorite parts are Billy and Kon wrasslin' with the dinosaur skeleton, that GORGEOUS-ass planet-viewing, and the lil' cranky Batman silhouette, haha.

( is lil' cranky Batman more annoyed that the Watchtower now needs a new window or that Green Lantern and Flash are both being so dang dramatic about a measly unexpected high-velocity impact from nowhere that could've depressurized the whole meeting room and sucked half the League out into the vacuum of space?? god, Jordan, get a grip, it's like we don't do this shit every friggin' weekend. )

Day 7 of Billy Batson week! It’s a free space so I decided to do Dad!Billy 2: Electric Boogaloo. Dad son bonding out of this world

Part 1

Fics that inspired this au:

when you don’t believe, that’s why you fail by @suzukiblu

Preteen Parenting: The Marvelous misadventures of the worlds weirdest found family by @im-not-buying-it-ether

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for Cheshire behind the cut; “Billy adopts Conner and it actually goes pretty good!” (( chrono || non-chrono ))

He takes a moment to lean down and neaten Tawky’s bowtie and sweater for him to make sure he still looks like a proper gentleman, since Lynn squished him kinda hard a couple times in there and there’s the whole lack of opposable thumbs issue making it a little harder for Tawky to fix himself up, and Tawky purrs appreciatively. Normal tigers don’t actually purr, but Tawky isn’t particularly interested in being normal, he always says. And it’s super-cute, so Billy’s not gonna tell him to. Like, he wouldn’t either way, but double-definitely he isn’t gonna. 

“Do you think Lynn’ll want a bedtime story?” Billy wonders. Tawky looks thoughtful. “I know, yeah, we did get a lot of books, maybe that’d be like . . . overwhelming? To pick from, I mean? I guess I could pick out a few he could pick between, but . . . well, maybe just if he has trouble, you think?”

Tawky purrs approvingly. Billy beams at him, then neatens his fur a little more and straightens back up. He knows it’s way harder for Tawky to talk when he’s a stuffed animal, but he’s always a great listener no matter what and really pays attention. 

“Cool, yeah, I think it’s a good idea too,” he says, figuring he’ll pick some out in his head first and then just separate them from the others if Lynn needs some help narrowing things down. “Did you like the salmon? I thought it was so good, oh my god. Um–gods. I never know if I should say ‘god’ or ‘gods’, it’s not like I’m really religious or anything, you know, it’s just that I know some gods, so like–” 

“. . . are you talking to me?” Lynn asks warily from the doorway of his room, and Billy brightens reflexively and looks over to him. Lynn’s wearing a pair of dark blue pajamas with the top unbuttoned and pulled on over his T-shirt like an open jacket, which–hm, maybe Billy should tell him that it’s not really meant to be worn like a jacket? But also that seems warmer anyway and he would definitely want to be as warm and, like, cozy and stuff as he could if he’d gotten raised in a lab run by total assholes who didn’t even tell him stories, so . . . 

Also . . . well, the world is this brand-new big and scary place full of strangers and stuff he doesn’t know, so maybe Lynn feels a little safer with the “S” on, come to think. Billy, like . . . gets that idea, really. 

He definitely gets that idea. 

“Oh, no, sorry, I didn’t mean to, like, interrupt you while you were getting changed or anything,” he apologizes. “I was talking to Tawky. He’s a great listener!” 

Lynn looks at him for a long moment, then flicks his eyes down to Tawky and looks at him for a long moment. 

“. . . right,” Lynn says slowly, just barely raising an eyebrow. “Uh. I . . . bet, yeah.” 

Billy beams at him. He’s just so glad Lynn and Tawky like each other. Or like . . . have a good impression of each other, at least? Like–that’s really great, that they like each other. 

“Definitely!��� he agrees cheerfully. “Do you like the pajamas? Like, they’re not scratchy or anything, right?” 

“. . . they’re linen,” Lynn says. 

“. . . um?” Billy says, wrinkling his nose in confusion. Linen? That sounds, like . . . kinda expensive, maybe? Is linen actually expensive or does Solomon just think it is ‘cuz he’s from like a few thousand years ago? ‘Cuz Solomon has opinions about purple dye. And black dye. And, like–cinnamon and stuff like that. “. . . I think Batman maybe has a shopping problem.” 

Lynn looks down at his sleeve and eyes the cuff of it skeptically. 

“The tag said ‘Frette���,” he says. “Is that a brand or something?” 

. . . Billy pulls his new phone out and just . . . googles that, real quick. 

. . . . . . Billy puts his phone back and decides to never google anything ever again. 

“I think Batman definitely has a shopping problem,” he says, still feeling a little lightheaded from the price listings he saw. 

Um. Maybe he wants to sit down for a sec, actually. Or, uh . . . a minute. Or so. 

“Does Batman buy everything?” Lynn asks, looking skeptical again. 

“Well, the Justice League paid for everything, we’ve got like, grants and donations and stuff, but Batman was the one who made me fill out a requisition form and did all the ordering and everything and picked out the apartment,” Billy says with a shrug. “I didn’t really know what to ask for, though. Like–the windows, but not all that much else, really. Oh, and comfy furniture and a big enough kitchen for both of us. And the beanbag chairs ‘cuz those are cool and I thought maybe you’d think they were cool too? Though I didn’t know the apartment was gonna be this big, I just wanted us to be able to eat in there and stuff. Like, um–you know, dinner and all. Meals.” 

“‘Meals’?” Lynn repeats, his eyebrows just barely furrowing, and Billy feels kind of embarrassed to outright say it, but also he doesn’t wanna, like . . . not say it, so . . . 

“Like family meals?” he says. He kinda said it before, but he also kinda just phrased it as “hanging out” at the time, he thinks. Well, they were about five minutes into knowing each other, so yeah, that’d felt less . . . presumptive, he guesses he’d thought? “I just think it’s better to, um, have those. Like, at least when we can and stuff.” 

“. . . oh,” Lynn says. 

“Do you wanna pick out a book for bed?” Billy suggests. Lynn stares blankly at him for, um . . . yeah, Billy’s definitely lost count of how many times Lynn’s stared blankly at him. Well, Lynn just kinda does that, it seems like, so yeah. 

“A book,” Lynn says. 

“I mean, we got so many,” Billy says. “And it’s easier to go to sleep if, um, you wind down a little bit first? And reading’s usually good for that, y’know?” 

“. . . sure,” Lynn says, still staring blankly at him. 

“I mean, you don’t have to,” Billy says sheepishly. His parents did it for him, so . . . “Just I thought maybe it’d help?” 

Lynn stares at him some more. Billy smiles as encouragingly as he can at him. Lynn, um . . . stares some more. 

Yeah, he definitely just does that, Billy thinks. 

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for qwertynerd97 behind the cut; “Billy adopts Conner and it actually goes pretty good!” (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“That went pretty good,” he says to Tawky, who purrs pretty proudly too. “He said ‘no’! Like, a real one! That’s really good, right? Like so good!” 

Tawky purrs supportively. Billy beams at him. Tawky’s the best. 

“Okay so like, what’s good for bedtime?” he asks, turning to the books and starting to sort through the piles. “Like a story’s better, right? Nonfiction stuff isn’t really . . . I dunno, bedtime-y.” 

Tawky huffs indignantly. Billy snickers. 

“Oh my god, Tawky, we’re not picking the Nikola Tesla biography,” he says. “Lynn can find out how ungentlemanly Thomas Edison is when he’s, like, awake enough to listen to you complain about it. How about . . . ummm, oh, is Where the Wild Things Are a little too little-kid, do you think? Or is it a good level of little-kid, since it’s bedtime and all? Or The Monster at the End of This Book? I dunno, that one’s funny but if Lynn doesn’t know any stories maybe it’ll stress him out. Um.” 

Tawky purrs, then leans over and pats one of the books. Billy leans over him to peer at the cover of it, and– 

“Oh, that’s a good idea!” he says excitedly. He doesn’t remember getting The Phantom Tollbooth–Lynn must’ve picked it out–but it’s like, a kid book without being a baby book, and it’s got cool illustrations and stuff but isn’t an actual picture book, so probably if Lynn’s feeling too teenager-y about it he won’t mind that as much as he’d mind a picture book. Though like, Billy’s definitely still gonna offer him a couple of those just in case, because like, maybe Lynn’s not feeling very teenager-y about it. 

Seriously. No stories? 

Cadmus sucks. 

“Maybe, um–I got the first Percy Jackson book, maybe he’d like that?” Billy suggests speculatively, and Tawky tugs it out of the pile and passes it over to him. He got the illustrated edition, anyway, so again, like–a kid book, but not a baby book, so it’ll be easy for Lynn to understand the story and how it works and all, and it’s got pictures in it too, but it’s not gonna be totally patronizing. And like, the pictures aren’t as cool as the ones in The Phantom Tollbooth are, but they’ve got like, cool monsters and stuff. Which maybe he’d worry about showing Lynn monsters right before bed, but like, he did see what the G-gnomes and G-trolls all looked like, so he figures Lynn won’t actually think they’re all that scary or anything. 

Tawky purrs agreeably, then holds up The Wee Free Men too, which Billy doesn’t think has pictures, but it’s still not, like, an adult book. He read it in the library last winter and he really liked it, he remembers. Like, it was really good. He doesn’t remember about the pictures, though. Still– 

“That’s a good one too,” he decides as he accepts the book from Tawky and stacks it up with the other options. “That’s probably enough, right? I don’t wanna do too many, then it’s just gonna be the same problem all over again.” 

Tawky rumbles agreeably, and Billy grins at him, then pitches his voice a little lower while the sink runs in the bathroom, just to try and make sure Lynn won’t hear or anything. Just he doesn’t want Lynn to think he’s, like–stressing anyone out or being complicated or anything, basically? He definitely doesn’t wanna make Lynn think that, yeah. Just he also wants to make sure Tawky knows he appreciates him being here for this. 

“Uh, thanks again for the help, Tawky,” he says. “I know this is kinda, you know, um–restrictive for you?” 

Tawky is way better at talking when he has, like, lungs and everything, but he’s still real good at dismissive little tail flicks. Billy thinks maybe that’s just a cat thing, though. Like, even with tigers and all. Still– 

“I mean it,” he says, because it is a big thing, and a really big favor Tawky’s doing him right now. “I really don’t know how to be a good dad, but I really, really don’t wanna mess it up, and it’s just way easier with, um, a little backup around, you know?” 

Tawky reaches over and pets the back of his hand reassuringly, and Billy tries not to look embarrassed and hopefully doesn’t get any worse than “sheepish”. 

“Thanks, Tawky,” he says, and then sort of . . . scrubs the back of his other hand across his eyes, and then smiles, like . . . hopefully not too weakly at him. “I just, uh . . . I kinda wish I could ask my dad some stuff right now, y’know? Like . . . maybe just, um . . . a couple things.” 

Tawky nods understandingly, but doesn’t say anything; doesn’t even purr this time. Which–yeah, Billy appreciates that too. It’s just . . . not something there’s really anything to say about. And as good as he’s always been at knowing the right thing to say, Tawky also knows when just not to say stuff. So . . . yeah, Billy appreciates that. 

There’s definitely a reason Tawky’s his best friend, for sure. Like–a lot of reasons, really, but especially that one. 

Billy sniffs once, feeling–dumb, kinda, and then gives Tawky’s paw a little squeeze back for a moment, then lets go of it to lay out the books for Lynn on the coffee table all lined up nice and neat for him to pick between, and then piles up all the others again all nice and neat. He really hated the messy foster homes, so like–well, he hated the too-clean ones too, but he definitely still wants to keep the apartment nice for Lynn. Like–nice, but not sterile-nice. Like . . . cozy, maybe. 

Anyway, he also doesn’t wanna lose any of the library books either, that’d suck, so– 

Lynn clears his throat–Tawky doesn’t have one right now, so it’s definitely Lynn–and Billy perks up reflexively and looks back over his shoulder towards the sound. Lynn’s standing in the hall in his pajamas that Billy is just not gonna think about the price of, looking . . . awkward, maybe? Or kinda weird, a little? Not all blank and closed-off, but not really anything Billy can read either. 

Well, that’s okay, Billy figures. He’ll just, like . . . figure it out. Like–sooner or later he’ll get enough practice, and he’ll get to know Lynn well enough.

“Hey, Lynn!” he greets cheerfully, and Lynn keeps staring–well, not-blankly at him, for whatever reason he’s doing that. But like, he guesses that’s Lynn’s business, really?

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for Cheshire behind the cut; “Billy adopts Conner and it actually goes pretty good!” (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“. . . sure,” Lynn repeats, finally. Billy reflexively brightens. 

“Cool!” he says excitedly, linking his hands together behind his back to keep himself from the reflexive clap he almost went for. Probably the clap thing would be kinda dorky, to a teenager. Or just kinda loud to a baby; either/or. “Um–cool, yeah. Do you want help picking one out, or do you wanna do it by yourself? Or, um, try by yourself first, and me or Tawky can help if you have trouble? Or me and Tawky, if you want!” 

Lynn stares at him some more again. Billy probably seems incredibly uncool to a teenager and incredibly weird to a baby, though he doesn’t really know which one of those things Lynn is thinking right now. Like–it could be both, probably. Probably it could be both. 

Gods, how is he supposed to be a cool enough dad for his teenager while also not being too weird a dad for his baby? How’s he supposed to even do that? He’s gonna need his own books. Like, just so many parenting books and stuff. And also, like–he’s probably gonna have to do some trial and error stuff, probably? Like, that kind of thing, he guesses? 

Well . . . actually, Billy guesses it’s a little weird, but probably, like . . . books about kids with developmental delays or trauma would probably be able to tell him how to split that difference, right? Like, come to think? Like the parts where Lynn’s a teenager and the parts where he’s a newborn and the parts where he isn’t really either, probably. Billy’s second-least-shitty social worker had said some stuff about developmental delays and stuff like that a couple times, and then the guy’d tried to send him to a psychologist like he’d actually thought Billy was dumb enough to talk to a state psychologist about jack shit, and–

Maybe Billy should be getting books about kids with developmental delays or trauma, yeah. That’s maybe a thing he should do, yeah. 

He really needs to, like, start keeping a to-do list already. 

“. . . dunno,” Lynn says stiffly, glancing awkwardly towards the stacked-up piles of books. “Uh–there’s . . . a lot.” 

“Oh, yeah, kinda,” Billy says, then thinks–well, since Lynn hasn’t been talking that much, if he bothered mentioning that there were a lot of something . . . “Want me and Tawky to pick out a few that look good for bed, and then you can pick from those? So it’s not, like, so many all at once?” 

“. . . sure,” Lynn says. Billy doesn’t really know how to read Lynn all that well yet, but he does think the other maybe sounds a little relieved about that offer. Which, well, hopefully he is? Since that’s like, the whole reason Billy made the offer and all. 

“Cool!” he repeats cheerfully. “We can pick some out while you, like–brush your teeth and wash your face and stuff. Or take a shower? Um, I guess you did just get changed, but you could if you wanted. Or a bath, even! It’s like . . . evening-y and all. Or you could do it in the morning, whatever you wanna. But I don’t think we have bubble bath and it’s way better with bubble bath. But we could get some! Like, later, I mean. Um. Did I show you where the bathroom was yet? Well, um–bathrooms, I guess, I guess there’s two of ‘em.” 

There are two–the bigger one’s in the hall, and then a smaller one’s actually attached to the biggest bedroom, so Billy guesses that one’s kind of “his”, technically, but like, he doesn’t care if Lynn wants to use it too. Lynn’s a baby. Though also he’s like . . . a teenager, so yeah, he might care. Billy has definitely met some teenagers who really care about which bathroom they use. 

The idea of caring whose bathroom is whose is really weird to Billy, honestly, but also he’s not a teenager yet, so like . . . yeah, who knows. Teenagers are kinda just weird too, he’s pretty sure? That’s what everybody says, anyway, and he’s met some pretty weird ones himself, so yeah. 

Also–well. Billy hasn’t really been in a situation where it was up to him which bathroom was “his” or which bathroom he could use or anything like that in . . . a really long time, yeah. Or like–ever, really. His parents had a bathroom attached to their bedroom too, and there was like a “half-bath” on the first floor without a shower or tub or anything in it, and he’d just always used the one next to his bedroom with the– 

Billy feels–weird, suddenly, and stops thinking about . . . that. Stops thinking about . . . his old house, he means. His–parents’ house. 

He doesn’t usually . . . think about that, is all. So it’s–weird, thinking about it now. And like, he guesses it makes sense that he is, like how he’s thinking so much about his parents now that he’s a parent too, just . . . 

Just–it’s weird, thinking about it. 

That’s all. 

“I know where the bathrooms are,” Lynn says, which is admittedly pretty obvious. It’s a big apartment, but it’s not like a huge giant house or mansion or something; there’s only so much space. And Billy did show him the bedrooms earlier, at least, and at least where a couple things are, so . . . well, yeah, it’s pretty obvious. 

“Okay, cool,” Billy says. “Do you know how to get ready for bed or do you need a hand or anything?” 

“. . . I know how to get ready for bed,” Lynn says, staring blankly at him. 

“. . . do you want a hand or anything?” Billy offers, just because that phrasing wasn’t, like, an actual no. Lynn–frowns, briefly, and glances towards the wall. 

“Um,” he says. “. . . no.” 

“Okay!” Billy says cheerfully, and really can’t help brightening up again. “Then Tawky and I’ll pick out the books while you’re doing that, okay?” 

“. . . okay,” Lynn says, sparing him a long, blank look. Then he turns around abruptly and disappears back down the hall. Billy feels pretty good about the conversation, he thinks? Lynn told him he needed some stuff, and told him he didn’t need some stuff, and he told Lynn what he could do to help him with the stuff he needed help with, and Lynn said okay to him helping. 

And he’s just, like–he’s really proud, that Lynn feels okay enough to say “no” to him. Like, proud of Lynn for doing it to begin with, but also a little bit proud of himself for apparently doing an okay enough job at being a dad so far that Lynn thought it was safe to say “no” to him. 

Like–definitely he’s proud of that.

[suzukiblu]

ahahahaha J'ADORE, I love this so much. Lynn, you're such a good and clueless boy. 🤣

[Image Description: A four panel comic in the style of Calvin and Hobbes. In the first panel, Kid Flash asks “What’s with the tiger?”, and Lynn, who used to be Superboy, replies “Captain Marvel said I should bring him ‘for safety’”. Tawky is in stuffed animal form behind Lynn. In the second panel, Lynn says “I’m pretty sure he has NO idea what things are age appropriate,” while Tawky transforms into an actual live tiger. In the third panel, Lynn continues, “But Captain Marvel is a pretty cool Dad anyway” offscreen while Tawky battles something magical. In the fourth panel, Tawky has transformed back into a stuffed animal, while Lynn, unaware, finishes with “So I’ll tote around a dumb tiger because it seems to make him happy” while Kid Flash makes a confused and shocked face. End Image Description.]

A quick Lynn and Tawky comic inspired by the latest installment of @suzukiblu’s Billy adopts Kon and it actually goes pretty good AU! This image has been living rent free in my head for the past WEEK.

[suzukiblu]

Thank-you sentences for Ten behind the cut; “Billy adopts Conner and it actually goes pretty good!” (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Nobody ever told him he was smart in foster care either. Or anything they thought was good about him at all, really. Like–not any of the adults, at least. 

Well, none of them had thought anything about him was good, so . . . yeah. He doesn’t know if maybe he shouldn’t point things like that out as much, now–like, if it’s making Lynn uncomfortable or embarrassed or something–but . . . 

Well. Billy’d gotten pretty embarrassed by stuff his mom and dad had said to him, sometimes, but he’d hated never hearing anyone say anything good about him at all a whole lot more. 

“It just seems like you think a lot,” he says. “Like you’re trying really hard to be, um–thoughtful? About stuff? And I think you’re doing a good job at it. And you know a ton of stuff, too! That’s all.” 

“. . . you have the wisdom of Solomon,” Lynn says. 

“Yeah, but like that’s a superpower, not, you know, stuff I studied or figured out or really learned on my own,” Billy replies reasonably, shrugging a little, because, like–it is. Like, it’s a very cool power and he has to use it right, but it’s still a power. And then, because he’s pretty sure he knows why Lynn said that–“Anyway, that doesn’t have anything to do with you being smart. Well, um, actually you would get to use the wisdom of Solomon if you decide you want some of my powers, actually, so actually I guess it kinda does, but like��otherwise it doesn’t, I mean.” 

Lynn stares blankly at him. Billy tries to smile encouragingly back at him, because he is not saying this right and he really doesn’t wanna give Lynn a weird complex about not being smart enough or, like–whatever dumb thing Cadmus wanted him to think about himself. 

Maybe it doesn’t work, though, because Lynn turns kinda red and looks back down at Tawky really quick. 

Or maybe it was just embarrassing to hear, maybe, Billy thinks, remembering–well. His parents did say stuff that embarrassed him, sometimes. Which hurts to remember, really, but only hurts because . . . 

He doesn’t know if Lynn’s going to feel the same way, remembering that kind of thing when he’s older. If he’ll remember it like . . . 

He just–hopes Lynn at least won’t have to hurt about it, either way. 

Billy really, really needs to not die before Lynn’s old enough to be okay on his own. To like–really be okay on his own, Billy means. And he knows it’s not–like, it’s not like people die on purpose. Like–just–not usually, obviously. Usually they don’t. His parents definitely didn’t. 

But he just–he still just really, really feels like he needs to not die before Lynn’s old enough to be okay on his own. He knows he probably won’t be able to help it, however it’s gonna happen, but he feels that way anyway. 

He wonders if his parents ever . . . 

Billy thinks maybe he doesn’t wanna wonder about that right now.

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for qwertynerd97 behind the cut; “Billy adopts Conner and it actually goes pretty good!” (( chrono || non-chrono ))

It’s just–Billy has no idea how to say what he’s thinking in a way that makes sense, so he is definitely not gonna say any of it to Lynn right now. Like, he just very much does not want to make Lynn feel like he doesn’t care about what he’s worried about or that what he feels about stuff doesn’t matter, and Lynn is way too new right now, so if he does make him feel like that–

Well, then Lynn’ll remember feeling like that for most of his life, so . . . yeah. Billy is definitely not gonna say any of that right now.

He’s just not sure what to say to convince Lynn it’s okay to sleep if he needs to, or at least to help him not be anxious about the idea and maybe giving himself a bad dream or something and–well, no, Tawky can eat it if he does, but still, that doesn’t mean he won’t have any of it, and immediately having a nightmare is probably not a great way to help Lynn feel comfortable sleeping? 

Like. Definitely not. Not even slightly. 

“Um,” Billy says, and then he thinks–oh. Right. 

Man, he’s dumb sometimes. 

“Do you wanna get ready for bed?” he suggests. Easing into going to sleep will definitely help Lynn get more settled if he’s feeling nervous about it, right? And like, bedtime routines are supposed to be good for kids anyway, he’s pretty sure. Like–he’s heard that, anyway? 

“. . . ‘ready’?” Lynn echoes, frowning faintly without looking up. His hand is still fisted in the front of Billy’s magic grandpa-sweater, so he guesses it’s not that bad a sweater. Like, if holding onto it like that makes Lynn feel better, Billy means. Or . . . more secure, maybe? Billy doesn’t know, obviously, he’s just assuming, but–yeah. Anyway. 

“Oh, um, yeah!” Billy says. “Like you know, do some bedtime routine stuff? Um, change into your pajamas and brush your teeth and maybe get a glass of water, stuff like that. Like, if you have pajamas. I don’t know if you do. I definitely don’t, but like, I’m not sure what stuff the League or Kid Flash’s parents got you already?” 

Billy seriously doubts Lynn actually does have pajamas, given the half-empty look of the backpack he’d brought with him and the fact he maybe hasn’t really slept yet, but he didn’t wanna assume, so . . . maybe? 

They probably need to get Lynn some more clothes, he thinks. Like, he can just go with magic clothes, obviously, but Lynn’s gonna need real ones. And anyway, Lynn should have real ones. Just, like–have real ones, but also not have to do laundry every other day. So–more clothes, definitely, Billy decides. “More clothes” is going on the list with tupperware and not-oatmeal cookies to send to Mount Justice with Lynn and a driver’s license for Lynn and maybe, like, seeing if the League can lend them one of the cars they keep around for undercover stuff and staying under the radar and just, like, normal emergencies and all. 

“I–” Lynn starts, his voice a little stiff, then cuts himself off and starts over: “You're still–carrying me.” 

“I know,” Billy says, still distracted by trying to figure out if he needs to start making, like, “to-do” lists and stuff now to keep track of–“Oh! Oh, sorry, um–is that annoying? I swear I wasn’t trying to hug you without permission or anything, just–um, hang on.” 

Billy sets Lynn down on his feet, feeling like an actual disaster of a dad, and tries not to look embarrassed about it. Lynn lets go of his sweater a moment late, still stiff about it, which makes Billy feel like even more of a disaster. He’s–frowning, a little. Thinking-frowning, Billy hopes, not annoyed-frowning. Annoyed-frowning would be bad. 

“Sorry,” he repeats awkwardly, taking a quick step back and linking his hands together behind his back. He doesn’t want Lynn to feel like he’s just gonna grab him or anything. Even though he definitely already did grab him so actually now Lynn knows he’d just grab him without even asking and– 

“. . . it’s fine,” Lynn says. “Stiff” is still the best description Billy’s got for how he’s acting. And looking. And, um . . . everything-ing. Lynn’s still hugging Tawky tight against his chest, but the hand he had gripping Billy’s sweater is still half-up and just sort of . . . there, kinda. Awkwardly there. Not as awkwardly as all of Billy’s here, for sure, but–kinda awkwardly, yeah. 

Definitely still not as awkwardly as Billy, though. 

“Sorry,” he tries one more time. “I didn’t wanna, um–weird you out or anything, I just–yeah. Um. Sorry.” 

He is being so awkward about this, he thinks despairingly.

“. . . the closet,” Lynn mutters. Billy blinks; cocks his head. What’s Lynn–? “There were pajamas on the shelf.” 

“Oh!” Billy brightens up. Batman must’ve bought Lynn some just in case; they’re gonna have to check the other closets too. “That’s great! I didn’t think to look in the closets or anything, that was really smart of you, Lynn.” 

Lynn lifts his head just enough to stare blankly at him. Billy wonders how good he is at facial expressions again, or if the blank staring is just, like, him being overwhelmed. He guesses if he waits a couple weeks that question’ll probably answer itself, though, so he figures it’s not a big deal either way. 

“. . . you keep saying that,” Lynn says. 

“Um–saying sorry, you mean?” Billy asks sheepishly, trying not to wince about it. He kinda maybe did repeat it a few times, he guesses, but he did feel really bad about weirding Lynn out, and also about startling him, and . . . like, just grabbing him to begin with? Like–pretty much all of it he felt really bad about. 

“No,” Lynn says, flicking his eyes back down and rubbing his thumb in against the seam of the shoulder of Tawky’s sweater. He doesn’t say anything else, and Billy tries to figure out what he even said that would stick out to Lynn enough to mention like–

Oh. Duh, he realizes.

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for Mango Bat behind the cut; “Billy adopts Conner and it actually goes pretty good!” (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Billy definitely wants Lynn to thrive, so it’s a relief Lynn at least wants to carry Tawky around as much as he has been. He’s pretty sure he’d worry about the whole “failure to thrive” thing way less if Lynn were just a teenager, but since Lynn’s also a newborn it really seems kinda . . . like, it seems kinda like hugs and touch and stuff are the kind of things that he should maybe try and be careful about making sure Lynn gets enough of? Like–just whatever Lynn’s okay with, really, as long as it’s something. 

Billy did stay Captain Marvel-shaped for more than one reason, and being big enough to give Lynn a real dad hug if he wants it is definitely, like, very much part of it and all. 

It just–it feels different, Billy knows. Getting hugged by your dad, versus getting hugged by . . . pretty much anybody else. Just–

( he remembers his dad’s big warm arms and how getting wrapped up in them and pinned against his broad chest used to fill up the whole entire WORLD and always felt so–and always felt so–and his mom, and the scent of that coconut shampoo she liked so much and the vanilla perfume his dad always bought her a new bottle of for Mother’s Day, and HER soft, strong arms and–and when he’d been seven and his dad had taken him to the mall with him to buy her perfume for that year–that LAST year–and . . . and . . . 

he doesn’t remember the name of the perfume, or the shampoo, or even what he and his dad had talked about at the mall that day. he thinks he was bored, maybe. thinks he’d wanted to go to the arcade instead. thinks . . . 

he thinks he needs to stop thinking about–about things that he can’t think about right now. 

he hadn’t had a mom anymore, by the next Mother’s Day. 

or anyone to ask what the name of that perfume was. )

Billy needs to make sure there’s something ready for Lynn if he dies, he reminds himself as he very, very carefully dries all the dishes and puts them away. Especially if Tawky dies too, because that could happen. They fight bad guys together all the time. They could die at the same time too, just the–just the same way his parents did. 

And he can’t–he really can’t–

Maybe he and Tawky shouldn’t do that anymore, if they don’t absolutely have to, Billy thinks. Like . . . maybe that wouldn’t be a good idea anymore, now that he’s thinking about it. 

Maybe that’s . . . something to think a little more about, yeah. 

If he and Tawky both died at the same time, and there wasn’t a plan or anything set up for Lynn, and the League maybe had trouble placing him again, and he wound up going through a bunch of different places and maybe didn’t end up with–with anybody who really– 

Billy swallows. Dries the last couple of dishes; puts them all away back where they came from. 

He and Tawky shouldn’t fight any bad guys together right now, yeah. 

Not if they can avoid it, anyway.

[suzukiblu]

cuuuuutest! ❤️❤️ I love them, hahaha.

( HE IS IN FACT A VERY SPECIAL TIGER, OKAY, KON?? )

Finally remembered to post this sketch from the wip "Billy adopts Kon and it goes surprisingly well" by @suzukiblu

Billy and Cap are just here to fill space, Kon is the star of the show now.

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for inkwell behind the cut; "Billy adopts Conner and it actually goes pretty good!" (( chrono || non-chrono ))

But also, Lynn almost definitely needs to sleep if he’s really stayed awake for four whole days. Or even, like, just mostly stayed awake. Maybe Kryptonians don’t need much sleep, but Billy’s definitely heard Superman at least mention sleeping before and Lynn’s still technically a newborn, and babies need a lot of sleep, right? And so do teenagers, actually, he’s pretty sure, ‘cuz he always hears about them sleeping a lot, so like . . . 

“Your head doesn’t hurt or anything, right?” Billy asks, and Lynn stays tense in his arms, but also keeps his grip on his sweater, so Billy’s not really sure, like . . . how to take that, or whatever. “Did you get hit in it too bad at Cadmus?” 

“. . . I don’t know,” Lynn says, still stiff. Which makes sense, Billy guesses, because–“It hurt a couple times, I guess. I don’t know what’s–’too bad’.” 

“How long did it hurt for?” Billy asks, his frown deepening a little more. “Do you feel, like–dizzy or lightheaded? Or, um–cottony? Like things are maybe a little, like, not connecting?” 

“Six to twelve seconds. And, uh–no,” Lynn says. “Nothing like that.” 

“Okay,” Billy says, and relaxes a little. Lynn’s pupils are both the same size and he didn’t act sleepy or out of it ‘til now, and Kid Flash and his parents apparently didn’t notice anything like that either, so . . . probably it’s fine? He thinks? Like, he’s definitely gonna google some stuff that the wisdom of Solomon is maybe a few thousand years behind on, medically-speaking and all, and also obviously keep an extra-close eye on Lynn for the next couple days just in case, but he’s almost sure it’s fine. 

Just–as long as he keeps an extra-close eye on Lynn, anyway. He does know concussion symptoms can show up a few days later, so–yeah, definitely he’s gonna keep an eye on him. Six to twelve seconds isn’t very long for something to hurt, though, so he’s pretty sure he’s just being paranoid? 

But also he’s definitely gonna be paranoid about possible head injuries, so yeah, that’s kinda just gonna have to be a thing, Billy figures. Like that one’s just unavoidable. 

“You probably do need to sleep,” he says. “Like I don’t know how much Kryptonians have to, but if you’re getting wobbly that kinda, you know, implies you need to? Or at least need to pretty soon?” 

“. . . oh,” Lynn says. “Uh. Right.” 

Billy feels kind of guilty about saying that, because I slept for four months is a pretty blatant sign of Lynn definitely being at least a little bit leery about the idea of going to sleep on purpose, but like–well, it's gonna be worse if Lynn stresses himself out about it for too long first, he figures. And he's not gonna be a very good dad if he lets Lynn stress himself out worrying about stuff that’s, like–irrational? Which, he doesn’t wanna say that’s an irrational thing to worry about, because if Lynn’s worried he’s got good reasons to be, just–like–

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for Cheshire behind the cut; “Billy adopts Conner and it actually goes pretty good!” (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Billy closes the cupboard and looks back into the living room. Lynn’s still watching the static intently, and Tawky’s still settled all neat and comfy in his lap, though Lynn’s eyes look a little–heavy, kinda? Like . . . maybe, anyway. 

Billy sneaks a peek at the clock and thinks–it is getting kinda late, probably. Like, not really for a teenager and not for him either, ‘cuz it’s not really safe to sleep on the street for too long–honestly it’s better to just take a couple naps during the day if he can, especially when the weather’s shitty–but definitely for a little kid who’s just gotten driven halfway across the Midwest to their brand-new foster home and met their new dad and uncle for the first time and also gotten their own room and been to a diner and a library and cooked dinner and all that stuff for the first time. 

Actually, yeah, probably that’d be a lot even for a teenager, Billy thinks. Not that he really knows, ‘cuz he doesn’t really know any teenagers all that well and hasn’t been one himself yet, but it seems like it would? 

He’d sleep for a week after all that if he could, he thinks. 

He definitely would. 

Billy doesn’t really know how to handle the idea of, um–bedtime, exactly? Like, with Lynn, he means. Billy has not actually had an actual “bedtime” since . . . uh . . . 

“Lights out” doesn’t really count, he can’t help feeling, so . . . yeah, it’s been . . . a while, definitely. 

. . . maybe he should’ve taken a minute to check those parenting books for bedtime tips earlier, he thinks. Like–newborn tips and teenager tips, and then just split the difference, maybe? 

That seems like it’d probably be a pain in the ass to figure out how to split, though. 

He guesses what he should do is just whatever works, which, like–yeah, obviously and all, but like . . . doing “whatever works” is kinda, like . . . well, kinda a trial and error thing? And Billy really doesn’t wanna accidentally wreck Lynn’s first night of sleep in the apartment, that just seems like a bad foot to start off on and all, but he doesn’t know if Lynn knows anything about how he sleeps yet–like, he’s four days old and Billy’s pretty sure the first night he was alive he just spent fighting his way out of Cadmus and everything, so how many times has he even slept at all yet? And did he even go to sleep on purpose anywhere or just, like, pass out ‘cuz he was exhausted? 

Billy probably should’ve asked Lynn about all that stuff before the other started getting sleepy. 

Shit. 

Lynn blinks a little heavier, his head nodding once. Stiffens his spine like a reflex, and then looks a little–confused, maybe, and blinks rapidly a couple of times. Tawky peers up at him in concern, then seems to realize it’s the sleepy thing and glances over to Billy, who isn’t sure what to do and bites his lip. Tawky tips his own head, and Billy thinks . . . well . . . okay, that’s probably a lot of questions for Lynn right now, when he’s already pretty sleepy, but– 

Lynn blinks again–twice–and then wobbles in his seat, kinda, and– 

A weird jolt of alarm and the speed of Mercury both happen at the exact same time, and half a second later Billy’s in the living room with Lynn all scooped up in his arms and Lynn’s breath hitching sharply, one of his arms pinning Tawky against his chest and the other pressed tight against Billy’s chest in, like–a really obvious startle reflex. 

. . . maybe that was a panic reaction, Billy thinks, wincing at himself. 

“Sorry,” he says, trying to repress a worse wince. “Um–reflex. Sorry.” 

“Uh,” Lynn says, his breath catching again and the hand he has against Billy’s chest tightening into a fist around the neckline of the nerdy try-hard button-down Mr. Rogers sweater the magic made for him. He’s staring kind of blankly at where his fist’s clutching the sweater. “. . . ‘reflex’?” 

“Oh,” Billy says, then reddens a little in embarrassment. Yeah. Definitely that was a panic reaction. “Um–you looked like you were gonna fall, maybe, so–um, I know you’re invulnerable so maybe that sounds dumb, just I thought, like–I didn’t want you to fall?” 

“. . . uh,” Lynn says, and blinks real slow again. 

“Sorry,” Billy apologizes, trying to figure out if it’s more awkward to keep holding Lynn or to put him down without making sure it was just that he was nodding off and not, like, anything actually serious or anything. He got punched a lot of times by a guy with berserker super-strength just a few days ago, and that’s probably long enough that Lynn’s fine, but also Lynn’s only been alive a few days, so maybe like–what if he’s not actually fine, or–“Um–were you falling asleep?” 

“. . . I don’t know,” Lynn says, still staring blankly at his fist, or maybe at Billy’s sweater, or . . . who knows, really. “I don’t know what it feels like.” 

“. . . have you slept yet?” Billy asks with a worried frown. 

“I slept for four months,” Lynn says stiffly. He doesn’t lift his head at all. . 

Billy can maybe understand Lynn not wanting to sleep after spending so much time kept asleep and getting lied to all the time and not feeling anything real–like, that might be really scary, trying to sleep after that kind of thing, because maybe you’d wake up and it wouldn’t have been real either and– 

Yeah, Billy can definitely understand not wanting to sleep after that.

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for 🦄 behind the cut; “Billy adopts Conner and it actually goes pretty good!” (( chrono || non-chrono ))

They finish dinner quietly. Lynn hugs Tawky a little bit longer, so it takes them both a little longer to eat their shares, but Tawky obviously doesn’t mind and Billy definitely doesn’t. Lynn deserves all the hugs he wants, and also probably needs all the hugs he can get. Kids need lots of those. 

He guesses really most people do, but . . . yeah. Especially kids. 

Anyway. Billy doesn’t mind dinner taking a little longer, with how long it’s been since he had a real family dinner. And it’s Lynn’s first family dinner, even, so even if Billy did have a reason to mind it taking a little longer, he can’t figure out how that reason’d ever be important enough for him to be bothered by, compared to that. 

Lynn did a really good job cooking it all, too. 

After they all finish eating, Billy collects all three of their plates and takes them back to the kitchen to wash, and Lynn frowns a little like he doesn’t really know what to think about that. Billy told him he was gonna do it, so he figures it’s just like that thing where Lynn doesn’t really understand some stuff yet. 

Or just that Lynn didn’t believe he was gonna, maybe. 

Billy does the dishes and cleans up the pots and pans and stuff and puts away the leftovers. It looks like Batman didn’t buy them any tupperware, for some reason, but there’s plastic wrap so Billy just wraps up a plate with some and figures they can just get some tupperware when they go grocery shopping. Or just keep doing the plastic wrap, really, ‘cuz that’s probably cheaper anyway. Though the plates won’t stack or anything, and also maybe they’d be likelier to get broken? So . . . well, he’ll see how much the tupperware costs and they can go from there, he figures. 

He cleans up the whole kitchen the best he can, which is way less annoying to do when a foster parent isn’t yelling at him to do it and ten more chores before lights out and being a judgy asshole about how he does it all and– 

He cleans up the whole kitchen the best he can, and Lynn and Tawky stay in the living room together, both of them sitting together very still and very quiet. Lynn’s watching the static intently, clearly invested in . . . whatever about it he’s into, Billy guesses, and Tawky just seems politely–and understandably–lost on the whole thing, but he’s still sitting in Lynn’s lap and watching the static too. Lynn’s not hugging him anymore, really, but his hands are half-folded around his stomach and still holding him, so Billy thinks that might be kinda the same thing? Like, at this point, anyway? 

Well, it’s definitely an improvement on the technically-actually-a-chokehold thing, so he thinks Lynn’s doing pretty good so far. And like–either way, it’s good for Lynn to touch people or get touched, he figures. Touch-starvation is a thing, apparently. Like, with failure to thrive and all? That kind of thing?

[suzukiblu]

Thank-you sentences for Elle behind the cut; “Billy adopts Conner and it actually goes pretty good!”  (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Yeah,” Billy confirms. “Also, um, you did say some of the other stuff you saw was too fast and bright and all? So I figured this, uh, definitely wouldn’t be?” 

Lynn keeps looking at the TV and doesn’t say anything back. Billy feels kind of awkward and resists the urge to word-vomit into the silence. He doesn’t mind being the one who talks more, he just also wants to make sure he’s still leaving places for Lynn to talk, if he wants to. Like, whenever that’s a thing. 

“I don’t get it,” Lynn says stiffly, his fingers just barely tightening around his fork. Billy figures they’ve got plenty, so doesn’t worry about if he warps it a little or not. They’re gonna be working on the strength stuff anyway.

“That’s okay,” he says. “I, uh–I used to kind of forget, sometimes. Like, what kind of things that people who take care of you are supposed to do, I mean.” 

“. . . because of your uncle,” Lynn doesn’t exactly ask. Billy attempts to smile, mostly because he doesn’t wanna make Lynn think he upset him by asking, even if . . . well, he did, kinda. But that’s not Lynn’s fault. 

“Um, yeah,” he says. “And like . . . some other people. But him first.” 

And him worst, for sure. 

“Did you get put with . . . somebody too,” Lynn asks, still looking down at his plate. 

“Oh,” Billy says, feeling an uncomfortable itch in his gut and reminding himself–it’s normal for little kids to ask a lot of questions. Lynn just wants to know stuff. Understand stuff. “Uh–yeah. A few times, actually. But, uh . . . it didn’t ever really go all that good for me, so I kinda just . . . yeah. So–um, I’d like it to go better for you than it did for me? Like–um, like how I want you to like dinner more than me and like how we’re watching, um, ‘No Signal’ and all.” 

He figures those comparisons are something that’ll help Lynn at least start to get it, if nothing else. Well–hopefully, anyway.

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for qwertynerd97 behind the cut; "Billy adopts Conner and it actually goes pretty good!" (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Um,” he says. “I don’t know that one, I think. What was it on?” 

Lynn shrugs. Billy thinks–well, at least Lynn told him about something he liked, so he can at least try to find it, he figures. 

It takes him a slightly embarrassing amount of time to figure out Lynn is talking about literally the “no signal” screen with all the static, but in his defense he totally forgot that was even a thing and also, like, that is definitely not a show or anything. Though also Lynn didn’t actually call it a show, and either way Lynn wouldn’t know it wasn’t a show, probably, so . . . yeah, whoops. 

Billy definitely should’ve figured that one out a couple minutes sooner, but at least he figured it out. He doesn’t get why Lynn wants to watch static, but since most dads have to sit through, like, Barney and Paw Patrol, he figures he’s getting off lucky. He hasn’t watched TV in a while, no, but he definitely remembers how much Paw Patrol sucked. 

Ugh.

Lynn definitely likes the static either way, so it doesn’t really matter as long as he’s happy, Billy figures. Or, um–well, maybe not happy, really, ‘cuz he’s not sure he’s actually seen Lynn all that happy yet, but at least, like, content? Or like . . . mostly content? 

. . . semi-content? 

Billy really, really hopes Lynn at least isn’t unhappy to have gotten stuck with him. Which–like, if he does change his mind about staying, obviously they can figure something else out for him, but Billy just . . . 

He really wants this to work out, and he really wants to take good care of Lynn, and just–like–

He really wants this to work out. He’d just–he’d feel really bad, if he couldn’t take care of Lynn right. That’s all. 

Well–no. It’s a lot more things than just that. 

The three of them eat in front of, uh, “No Signal”, and it tastes–really good, actually. Like–really good. It’s maybe that it’s been a little while since anybody cooked for him, at least kinda, but Billy feels . . . he feels sort of weird about how good it all tastes, and kind of keeps his eyes on his food for most of it. The static isn’t really something he wants to watch anyway, and he doesn’t wanna make Lynn feel like he’s getting stared at or anything. 

It’s really, really good, though. 

“This is so good, Lynn!” he says enthusiastically, beaming over at him, and Lynn–stiffens, briefly, and then stares blankly at him. Billy resists the urge to wince. Okay, uh . . . yeah. Maybe that was a little too much, or too loud or something. “Um–sorry, just–” 

“It’s fine,” Lynn says stiffly, then tenses a little and looks down at his plate. Billy kinda hates that his own kid thinks interrupting him is gonna get him in, like, trouble, but he knows that’s just because Cadmus sucks. So it’s like–it’s something Lynn’s gonna need a minute to learn, probably, but yeah. Just one more thing, he figures. 

“I really like it,” he says, scooping up another bite of the salmon and pretending to be oblivious to Lynn’s reaction to that. He thinks sometimes that’s just better to do with simple stuff, instead of making somebody feel like everybody thinks they’re messing up all the time. “I kinda thought the, um–glaze? I thought the stuff in the glaze sounded kinda weird to put together, honestly, but it’s really good.” 

“. . . it’s balanced,” Lynn says, not lifting his eyes off his plate. His shoulders relax a little bit, though, so Billy thinks he probably did the right thing. Or at least a right thing, since he guesses there’s probably more than one “right” thing to–anyway. Not really the point. 

“‘Balanced’?” he asks curiously. “Like it’s healthier, you mean? Like a balanced diet thing?” 

“Um . . . no,” Lynn says. “It’s–brown sugar is sweet. Mustard’s–sour. Tangy. So it’s not too much of one or the other.” 

“Oh!” Billy realizes in delight. “That’s so smart, Lynn! I wouldn’t’ve even thought about that.” 

“. . .you don’t need to eat,” Lynn says, glancing guardedly at him. Billy shrugs. 

“Yeah, but still,” he says. “I do, like–like to, when I can.” 

“. . . you like to eat?” Lynn asks hesitantly. Billy doesn’t let himself get weird and complicated or think too much about it and just nods. 

“Yeah,” he says. “And this tastes awesome. We should make a copy of the recipe to make again, if you and Tawky like it too.” 

Lynn stares blankly at him while Tawky nods approvingly. 

“You care if I like it,” Lynn says, less like a question and more like a weird, confusing little realization. Billy . . . well. He knows how that feels, so just smiles encouragingly at him. 

“Yeah,” he says. “I mean, you need more food than us anyway, so actually it’s more important that you like it. Also, um, you’re my kid, so I want you to like it more than I wanna like it myself anyway.” 

“. . . why,” Lynn says, which is a question, but doesn’t really sound all that different. They should maybe do a little talking practice when he’s feeling up to it, Billy notes to himself. Like, for intonation and stuff. 

“You’re my kid,” he repeats reasonably. “Plus I already know what foods I like, and you still gotta figure out your favorites and stuff.” 

“‘Favorites’,” Lynn repeats, and then, slower–“Because I’m your kid?”

“Yeah,” Billy agrees. Lynn does not look any less blank, which–right, Lynn really doesn’t know how this stuff works. Or–how it’s supposed to, anyway. “Um, because I’m taking care of you, yeah? Like–people who are taking care of you are supposed to care what you like and what your favorites are and all.” 

Lynn looks blankly at him for another moment, then slants his eyes towards the TV. 

“Is that why you put on No Signal?” he asks.