While I'm going to try to avoid One Piece spoilers past chapter 1040, I can't promise none with slip though. Also, this story will contain my own speculations with how OP will eventually end.

WARNING! This chapter includes some unsavory implications about an underaged, dubiously consensual relationship.

The teenager looked at Robin like his name was supposed to mean something. It didn't, though she would surely be doing a deep dive into it the moment she got home.

"Well, I'd say it's a pleasure to meet you, John Constantine, but it is not," she said. "Not when you've been breaking into my place of business in an attempt to steal my personal possessions. Explain that now please."

Constantine shrugged his shoulders, testing her grip on his wrists. "I don't suppose you'll let me go for this friendly chat, Pet?"

Robin cocked an eyebrow at the name.

"Ma'am," he corrected himself, ducking his head.

"Once you've shared your intentions, I'll consider it."

Annoyance flashed across the boy's face but he covered it well, schooling his face into an expression of shy guilt. Under different circumstances, Robin might have congratulated him on excellent control of his facial expressions. That skill could only come from years of practice, practice that usually came from unpleasant circumstances.

"Look, I'm not after... trade secrets or company trademarks or anything like that," he said.

Robin considered saying that she knew that yet decided it was best to let the teenager talk. Who knows what he could reveal?

"I was just looking for a specific magic artifact. A tracking spell led me to your office a while back but wouldn't point the specific one, so I've been searching through them ever since." Constantine nodded to the case he'd been rummaging through. "Finally narrowed it down. The magnifying glass here -it's all I need. Let me have it, and you'll never see hide or hair of me again."

"Hmmm, is that so?" Robin said, more to give herself time to absorb the information presented to her. Then she blinked. "Wait, magic?"

Constantine dropped the guilty boy act to flash her another cocky grin. "That's right, Luv. You stumbled into a powerful magic artifact. Don't you worry though, John Constantine: Exorcist, Demonologist, and occasional Master of the Dark Arts, is here to handle it."

"Master, really?"

"Master... Petty dabbler, it's all semantics in the end. Master just looks better on a business card," Constantine shrugged. He gave her a confused look, "Most people would be spooked by that news. Why aren't you?"

"I am not most people."

Magic. That was surprising enough, though fitting with what she'd seen of this world. Some of these 'superheroes' and their enemies claimed to use magic in their endeavors. While Robin had never seen it in person nor gotten a chance to study the phenomenon herself, she had no true reason to doubt it existed. Franky claimed it was likely just science that no one had found an explanation for yet; for all his love of the dramatic, her husband was practical like that.

"Yeah, I guessed that." Constantine rolled his shoulders again, "I sense... some sort of energy coming from you. No sort of magic I'm used to though. Are you one of those metahumans or do you have a magic of your own?"

"You could say that."

There was a good reason for her noncommittal answer: Robin simply didn't know the best response. Magic, if it was to be called that, worked very differently in her world than this one. Though they still had their stories of witches and warlocks, Robin had never seen anyone casting spells or brewing potions. Devil fruits could certainly be considered magical in origin, and then there were extraordinarily rare, unique abilities like Madame Shyarly's power of precognition. Then there was Voice of All Things, as great as it was mysterious.

"I'm going to release you now," she decided. "I'll warn you not to run or attack. Rest assured, I am faster than you and it's impossible to escape my grasp."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

'So much cheek,' Robin fought the urge to grin as she dispersed her sprouted limbs.

"Thanks, much appreciated." Constantine rubbed his wrists and glanced over at the case. "So... Can I have it?"

"Hmm." Rather than answer right away, Robin went over and picked up the magnifying glass. She turned it over in her hands, once more observing the strange symbols on the sides of it. "Why do you want it?"

"Huh?"

"I need to know your plans for this before I decide whether or not to turn it over to you."

"What, are you part of the capes and cowls crowd?" Constantine scoffed.

"Hardly," Robin replied. "I am not a hero but I have no interest in being party to the victimization of others. So, if you want this-" she held up the magnifying glass "-then you'll need to start talking, young man. What does it do? And why do you want it?"

.

.

.

"The offer to call the police and social services is still on the table," Robin reminded the teenager, more gently this time.

The teenager's reluctance to speak didn't seem like it came from maliciousness, no... It was more like pride or stubbornness. More like fear. She took another look at his back eye and split lip. The latter of which Constantine kept gnawing at, to the point it started bleeding again.

"John?"

The teenager looked away. "The enchantment on it is unique. Looking through the glass allows one to 'find what they need,' and 'uncover what has been hidden.'"

"How interesting..." Robin had played around with the magnifying glass when she first purchased it, of course. Nothing had stuck out to her at the time and, when she held it up to look through it again, she still saw nothing of note. "I don't see anything."

"There probably isn't anything hidden or that you need here," Constantine said with another shrug.

When Robin turned to face him, the magnifying glass still raised, she nearly gasped when she saw a glowing gold aura emanating from the young man. She put the device down, "Fascinating! So what do you want it for? Are you trying to find something?"

"No, not exactly," the teenager shook his head. "I actually want to invert the spell."

"Invert it?"

There was a subtle, yet palpable shift in the teenager's demeanor. Something within him seemed to...dim. He licked his split lip, and looked away, "I figured that, if I reverse engineer the spell, it'll help me hide from..."

Constantine let his voice trail off, refusing to finish. Once more, Robin took in the teenager's poor state. Someone, likely over a prolonged period judging by the different colors of his bruises, had put the young man through the wringer. Robin was not a stupid woman. Putting those two 'n' two together was an easy enough task.

"Here," she said, holding out the magnifying glass. "Take it."

Blue eyes went wide and Constantine reached out to take the offering, only to pull his hand back at the last minute. He glared up at her, "What's the catch?"

Robin felt her lips twitch upward, unsurprised by the suspicion. She'd have her guard up in this situation too. "What makes you think I want something?"

"Everyone always wants something," Constantine sneered. "That's just the way the world works."

'Not always,' Robin thought, something deep in her heart twitching in empathy. 'Luffy had only ever wanted friendship.'

Perhaps that was something but what her captain had offered in return was worth that and so much more.

"I'll make you a deal," she said. "I give you this-" she held out the magnifying glass "-and you swear not only that you will not use it to harm innocents, nor cause trouble in my city. My husband and I have put far too much work into it to allow riff-raff to run amuck. Agreed?"

Eyes still narrowed, Constantine didn't move. "And how do you know I'll keep my end of the bargain? I could shake your hand, smile, take my prize, then turn around and start causing carnage."

"You haven't hurt anyone yet, haven't even tried," Robin pointed out. "Even though you've had ample opportunity to attack me or my security team, you've always left before they arrive. You don't even want to be seen, let alone end up in a confrontation."

The teenager chewed at his split lip. "Blood makes everything messier. Would have made it harder to come back and search. That's all."

'It'll never heal if he keeps doing that,' Robin thought, watching as Constantine continued to chew on his lip with a chipped tooth. "If that is what you chose to believe then so be it. My offer still stands, however: the magnifying glass for a promise."

.

.

.

"Okay," Constantine whispered. "Okay, deal. I'll take the deal, Luv."

There was a tinge of something in his voice, something tired and worn. Something...

'Desperation,' Robin realized. 'He's desperate. Whoever he is trying to hide from must truly terrify him.'

"Who are you trying to hide from?" she asked.

Predictably, Constantine didn't answer, instead growing even tenser, his mouth pressing into a tight, thin line.

"A parent?" Robin asked. She didn't expect him to answer and instead was watching for the smallest little micro-expression. In this case, there was the slightest raise of an eyebrow. Minor as the moment was, Constantine might as well have just told her 'no.'

"A sibling? A friend? A teacher? A rival?"

A slight widening of the eyes told Robin that her last two guesses were closer. 'Closer, but still not quite.'

"A lover?"

Without hesitation, the teenager grabbed the magnifying glass from her hand with a snarled, "Thanks!" before stomping over to the corner of the room. Robin watched on in silent curiosity as Constantine muttered something under his breath, holding his hands out in front of him. The air in the corner quivered before a ring of golden light formed, whirling around and around as it widened. Through the 'ring,' Robin was able to catch a glimpse at what looked like a half-abandoned apartment with worn furniture. But, before she could analyze the sight before her, Constantine rushed forward. With a flash of bright gold light, the 'ring' snapped shut -disappearing like it was never there to begin with.

"Huh, how odd," Robin mused. "You meet the strangest people in the city."

And with that, she released her hold on this bloom, letting it dissolve into flower petals.

As Robin's consciousness returned to her main body, she let out a low groan. Maintaining full-body bloom like that always required energy and concentration. Maintaining one for that long took more out of her than she'd have liked.

"Foolishness, Robin. Letting yourself get out of practice like that," the archeologist chided herself. Come tomorrow morning, she'd ask Franky to start sparring with her every night. While their combat styles were incredibly different, it was better than nothing. Franky's heavy-hitting style would also be effective in allowing her to practice with her Armament Haki.

"Hmmm." Robin turned back to her laptop, pulling up a new search engine.

"John Constantine"

A second later, Robin had a medley of search results in front of her to explore. The top of the list didn't tell her much. In fact, it wasn't even about John Constantine. Instead, it was just a short blurb about a 'Johanna Constantine' on a blog about historical occult figures. As she scrolled through the other results, she clicked on the 6th option.

Fire At Nightclub in Casanova Club in Newcastle Leaves Few Survivors

Robin checked the date, seeing that the news article was dated almost two years ago.

'Two years,' she thought, scrolling through the article. 'Constantine can't be more than eighteen. He could have been there, but why would a teenager be at a nightclub? Was he responsible for the fire? Was it someone else? Does this have anything to do with the person he is hiding from? Is-'

"Robin?"

The archeologist jumped slightly when Franky's voice knocked her out of her concentration. "Yes?"

The cyborg gave her a confused look. "You've been in here for a while, longer than usual. Did you get a lot of work done?"

"...Something like that."

"Wow, so it was a kid all along?"

"It would appear so," Robin replied. She leaned back against the headboard of her bed, "Though not an exceptionally young child, I suspect he was close to our dear captain's age when we all first met."

"Seventeen in this world means something different than it does in ours."

"True."

Seventeen was the age of the majority in their homeworld as decreed by the (now former) World Government. Laws of specific kingdoms varied island by island but, in general, you were considered an adult by your late teens. Old enough to marry. Old enough to run for elected positions. Old enough to sail away from your home island and travel the world. Old enough to join the Marines; though, perhaps it was telling that you could join as a chore boy as young thirteen with parent or guardian permission. Or, more likely, you had no parents and were raised in one of the government-sponsored orphanages scattered across the seas. Alone in the world and unable to think of anything better to do with your life.

Most importantly, you were old enough to be executed without much public outcry.

Portgas D. Ace, born Gol D. Ace, hadn't even been born yet the first time the (now former) World Government had tried to kill him. He was only twenty when they finally succeeded. In this new world, he wouldn't have even been able to legally drink.

At least in the country where Robin and Franky had ended up, that is. Such limitations had been a strange source of amusement to the archeologist when they'd first arrived. Twenty-one for drinking alcohol? Eighteen for the purchase of cigarettes? Why, Zoro and Sanji would have hated it here!

"Still, the pain I saw in his eyes... it was familiar. I know his story, even without having to read the words on the page. Different worlds yield the same wounds, I'm afraid." She looked over at her husband, "Does that make sense?"

"You saw a desperate kid and wanted to help him, I get that," Franky said. "I am surprised that you gave him a part of your collection though. You're pretty greedy when it comes to that kind of thing."

Robin grinned, "Blame our beloved Miss Navigator. After so many years, it is only natural that she rubbed off on me." The grin slipped away, her face becoming serious once more. "As you said, he was desperate. I... I know what that is like. More than that, trading away what was to me a mere curiosity to someone to whom it represented safety? That was an easy choice."

"Hmmm. Do you think this kid will ever pop back up?"

"I don't know," Robin admitted. "I hope so. I surprised him by giving him the magnifying glass and trusting that he would keep his end of the deal. I wonder if that will spark something inside of him? If he'll... come looking for something?"

"And until then?"

"Until then, I'm going to have our people see what people can find on one Mr. John Constantine," the archeologist said, snapping out of her sentimentality. "What they learn may cause me to change the course of my actions."

A broad, sneaky grin broke out across Franky's face as he gave her a knowing look. "And I'm guessing "our people" are the ones we pay under the table, am I right?

"You know me so well," Robin said, leaning forward to give her husband a goodnight kiss. "Now, let's get some sleep. There will be much to do in the coming days."

"Ain't there always?"

High above the ground below, nestled among the stars, a marvel of technology and protection orbited. The Watchtower, the officially unofficial headquarters of the Justice League, was truly one of a kind. A largely automated facility, not requiring the expense and danger of any sort of extensive maintenance or operations crew to operate and maintain it, allowing for the seven members of the team to come and go as they pleased with little issue and focus their attention on the more pressing matters of catching criminals and aiding in various crises. While it may not have all the comforts of home, Batman would be forever grateful he'd been able to slide it into the Wayne Industries R&D budget.

Which reminded him that he owed Lucius a very expensive dinner sometime soon.

Among the many advantages, it provided was one of the most highly advanced computer hardware systems in the entire world, perfect for the research and aid needed to solve the increasingly complex and brutal crime of the world. It was second only to Batman's own personal Batcomputer, and yet it was failing him at every turn.

'What is this language?' he wondered to himself, watching as yet another decoding algorithm attempted to decipher the glyphs before him.

Years of training, crime-fighting, detective work, and raising children had carved patience deep into Batman's bones. But, as yet another algorithm failed, he had to fight the urge to slam his fist down on the keyboard before him. With all but one of his bugs found and... returned to him by the mysterious Nico Franks, the little data he'd been able to pull from Thousand Solutions' servers -or, rather, what Luthor had been able to pull and which the Dark Knight had promptly 'borrowed'- over the was more valuable than ever. It was encrypted, of course, and he suspected nothing less, but this encryption was like nothing Batman had ever seen before!

'It bears similarities to Ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs, as well as Sumerian and Akkadian, while also seemingly having nothing in common with it at all. It doesn't have anything in common with any earthly language. Hell, it doesn't have anything in common with any of the alien languages we have on file either,' he thought. 'Could it just be gibberish then? Something Franks cooked up herself? But, if that were the case, then I should have had some luck cracking the code by now.'

The slight shift in the energy of the room broke Batman from his concentration and he spun the seat around to see his... co-worker hovering in the air as he approached.

"Darn it, I thought I could sneak up on you if you couldn't hear my footsteps," Superman said, a teasing smile on his handsome face.

'Bad enough you encourage Dick and Tim to do that, you have to indulge in childish games too?' Batman refused to be baited and, with a straight face, replied. "The day I miss someone trying to sneak up on me is the day it's time to retire. What do you want?"

Superman didn't respond, instead looking past Batman to the monitor behind him. "What's that?"

"..."

"Something you got from Thousand Solutions?" Superman asked, coming closer. "When Lois heard rumors that you and Lex got a face-to-face meeting with the CEO, she nearly smashed her desk. She's been trying to get an interview for years now, thinks it could be the start of a series of successful women in the tech business."

Against his better judgment, Batman felt his lips twitch upward. "Should I be expecting an angry phone call?"

"Oh definitely," Superman nodded. Then, after a moment, added, "So the rumors are true? You got to meet Nico Franks in person? What is she like?"

Batman paused for a long moment, trying to think of the best way to describe the woman. "...Mysterious."

Superman cocked his head to the side. "Good mysterious or bad mysterious?"

"Undecided," the Dark Knight said, spinning the chair back around to face the monitor once more. "Franks is definitely hiding something and I'm convinced she is a metahuman but I'm not certain enough to speculate on her overall goals. From what I can tell, all the company's records are clean. Still, I find it suspicious that so many of their in-house employees have criminal records, some quite extensive."

"Wayne Industries is a felon-friendly company," Superman was quick to point out. "It has one of the most extensive reintegration-through-employment programs in the world. And D- Nightwing has personally told me that the crime rate has been plummeting since Thousand Solutions took up shop in the city."

The fact that Superman and Dick spoke casually wasn't news, yet it twisted something bitter in Batman's mouth all the same.

This was true and Batman was very proud of the fact. Perhaps it wouldn't help the Riddler or Poison Ivy, but if he could keep even one man from going back to a life of crime then Batman could consider the program a success. For all people called Arkham Asylum and Blackgate Penitentiary revolving doors of crime, how could they expect things to improve unless there was a better option waiting outside?

This was different though.

"It's not to the point that nearly half of our employees are ex-convicts," he said. "Once I decode this-" he nodded towards the screen "-I'll know if I need to pursue this issue further."

Superman just shook his head. "If the public knew you did stuff like this, it would be a PR nightmare."

"And you think I care?"

"I know you don't care but, unlike you, the rest of us operate out in the open. And for that to happen then we need people to trust us, Batman."

"I don't have that luxury," the Dark Knight said with a frown. "And if it makes you feel any better, Luthor stole this from the company. I just stole it from him."

"It doesn't."

The air between the two men grew tense and awkward. Batman refused to budge or back down but, after a moment, nodded towards the screen again. "Do you recognize the language?"

To say that the Man of Steel possessed a level of superintelligence was probably inaccurate. He was certainly intelligent -even if Batman had an itemized list of evidence to the contrary- yet testing had suggested that Superman's ability to think and process information at a seemingly genius speed was more due to how fast his brain operated rather than any extraordinary level of intellect. Had Krypton never been destroyed and Clark grew up there, he'd likely have been a general normal man, if a rather smart one.

Superman gave an annoyed sigh even as he complied. He glanced over the glyphs before shaking his head. "No, I can run it against the records I have at the Fortress of Solitude but, to be totally honest, I've never seen anything like this before."

"Me neither," Bruce reluctantly admitted. Then a thought occurred to him, "What are you doing here? You weren't scheduled for monitor duty tonight."

"Oh, that's right! I was coming to get you. We've got some visitors."

"Well, look what the cat dragged in."

Batman ignored the snickers from Flash as he took Zatanna's hand, giving it a friendly squeeze. Had it just been the two of them, the gorgeous, ebony-haired magician might have indulged him with an embrace or kiss to the cheek. Yet, with others around, this gesture of affection was all he'd allow. For all the warmth he felt for his Zatanna and her family, for all they'd done to him, she too was something he had to keep at arm's length due to their shared connection through the world of the strange and extreme.

"That is one way of putting it," he allowed. "I'm surprised to see you here. You've always said that you preferred-"

"The spotlight," Zatanna agreed with a nod. "I won't lie, the center stage is where I feel most comfortable, where I feel I can do the most good. But even I know that desperate times call for desperate measures."

"Why don't I like the sound of that?" John Stewart, Earth's current Green Lantern, grumbled.

"Because it isn't," the second visitor said, speaking up for the first time.

With his piercing eyes, slicked-back, white-streaked auburn hair, and seemingly permanent scowl, occultist Jason Blood cut an impressive figure. Despite their long-standing acquaintance, Batman felt a twinge of discomfort and suspicion when he met Blood's eyes. More than once over the years, the Dark Knight wondered if hints of the man's internal demon seeped through his skin, even in human form.

"Jason," he greeted. "I don't suppose you're here to tell us that Morgaine le Fey is back."

From his seat at the Justice League's main meeting table, Batman saw the normally stoic and unflappable J'onn flinch ever so slightly. The movement was so small, to most, it would be indiscernible; it was only Batman's keenly trained eye that allowed him to catch it. He recalled the League's last encounter with le Fey and the effect it had on the Martian. For as much trouble as it had caused them, Batman couldn't truly fault the other for his actions.

J'onn had lost more in his life than most, and Batman understood that pain all too well.

"No," Blood said quickly. "While le Fey is still out there and will undoubtedly return to cause trouble for all mankind one day, she is quiet for now."

While none of the Justice League let out an audible sigh, one could feel the palpable relief in the room.

"If not le Fey, then what is the problem?" Wonder Woman asked. As the Leaguer who dealt with magical issues and opponents on the most regular basis, this was an obvious question for her to ask. Her beautiful blue eyes were narrowed ever so slightly and Batman wondered what possible scenarios were running through her mind.

Zatanna bit her lip, obviously mulling over what she was going to say. "Well... it isn't so much a problem as it is a concern."

Blood rolled his eyes, "You're being too generous. That boy is a menace."

The magician shot her magical peer a glare before turning to the rest of the gathered League, gesturing to the table. "Please, sit. This will take some explaining."

Batman bristled at the instructions, even as he followed them. Generally, he explained things to others -not the other way around.

When they were all seated, Zatanna raised her hands out in front of her and chanted. "Wohs Su Nhoj Enitnatsnoc!"

The air in the center of the table shimmered with a glistening white light before swirling about and reshaping until it showed the form of a blond teenager in a tan trench coat.

"A kid?" Green Lantern asked. "You came here to warn us about a kid?"

"Yes... and no," Blood said begrudgingly. "For as much trouble as that brat can cause, John Constantine has no machinations for evil doing. At least not in the same way le Fey, Felix Faust, or Circe does. That does not mean he isn't dangerous, however."

That explanation told Batman little and, what it did tell was unpleasant. He turned to Zatanna and said, "If you're here then I can only assume this John Constantine is a powerful magic-user."

"That... is complicated," the woman responded, uncertainty clear in her voice. "Honestly, no. He isn't that powerful, not right not at least. But, as Jason said, he is dangerous."

"What are you saying?" Superman asked.

"That-"

"Constantine leaves a trail of destruction wherever he goes," Blood said, cutting Zatanna's explanation off. "He wrestles with demons that he cannot hope to handle and swings his magic around like a neanderthal with a club. And now he has come to your backyard."

Though Blood didn't further elaborate, Batman felt his stomach twist at the declaration. He made it a point to be aware of any possible threat to Gotham, and the world as a whole. Knowing and monitoring these threats was the only way to properly protect those who needed them.

"John comes from a long line of magicians," Zatanna said. "Usually in that kind of situation, the responsibility of training young magic users falls on-

"Hogwarts?" Flash asked, unable to stop himself.

Hawkgirl rolled her eyes as Green Lantern reached over to smack Flash on the back of the head, an act that the speedster allowed. Likely for the sake of humor. Batman bit his tongue to stop himself from scolding the younger hero. Not for the first time, he reminded himself that Flash was (technically) his equal now, even if he still was only a little older than Dick.

Zatanna gave Flash a quick grin before continuing on her spiel. "It falls on the head of the family. But, as John is the only one in his immediate family with magic, he never had that. Since childhood, he's been teaching himself magic through books and the internet."

"Truly a child of the modern age," Blood mused, earning himself another dark look from his peer.

"You called him John, not Constantine," Batman pointed out, suspicion twisting in his gut. "Do you know him?"

A flash of guilt and sorrow crossed the woman's beautiful face. "I met him a little over a year ago. He'd read about my father and came to my home in search of a teacher. I was suspicious but let him stay with me a few days until I found him rifling through Dad's old archives. I am ashamed to say that I turned him away after that. If I hadn't then perhaps we wouldn't be here now."

She looked at the League with pleading eyes. "John isn't a bad kid, I know he isn't. His life has just been full of so much hardship that he refuses to trust anyone now, ensuring no one will trust him either."

She waved her hands again, muttering a spell that turned the image of John Constantine into one of a dark-haired man. "This... is Nicolas Edgar Nolan, more commonly known as Nick Necro in the magical circles. He is one of New York's most successful sorcerers for years and-"

"-A complete asshole," Blood grumbled. This time, Zatanna didn't argue.

"After I turned John away, he ended up in New York and under the tutelage of Necro. That is, however, until a month ago when John stole some of his artifacts and ran."

"That's how we got dragged into this mess," Blood said. "Necro contacted both of us in search of Constantine."

"Little trust as I have in Nick, I agreed to search for John. More for the kid's own safety than to help Necro. He'd done a good masking himself but I was closing in. That is until last night when his magical signature completely disappeared."

"Could he be dead?" Hawkgirl asked, pointing out the obvious.

Zatanna shook her head. "No, I'd still be able to find him if he was dead. I honestly don't know what happened."

Superman spoke up again. "I don't understand what you want from us. Are you asking that we take this kid into custody or help him?"

"No, I want you to find him," Zatanna said gravely.

"Hold on, this is a kid!" Green Lantern pointed out. "Where are his parents? Can't we call them?"

Anger flashed over Zatanna's face but she quickly got it under control. "I doubt they're involved with his life all that much."

"Madame Xanadu has agreed to take him in and host his education," Blood said. "We just need to find him first. So, Justice League, will you help us?"

'Of course,' Batman thought. 'How else will we ever know what he is capable of?'

Oh, and if you're interested in getting updates about my stories (including when chapters will be released) check me out on Ko-fi at VixenRose. There you can see pictures of my personal art, some of my favorite recipes, and much more.