Batman brought the Batsub to a halt just beneath the surface, letting the rocks of the shoreline protect it from prying eyes.

He'd arrived.

With Luthor's growing interest in supervillains, metahuman or otherwise, it had been prudent to find a covert method of transport between Metropolis and Gotham. It was ironic, then, that Luthor himself had given him the both the necessity and the means. The man had been making moves recently towards a space probe of a different sort to the conventional rockets and rovers- and a few modifications to the design had given Batman exactly what he needed to move covertly between Gotham and Metropolis.

The probe itself had to be designed to resist the crushing force of ice sheets and the extreme cold of alien oceans. Bruce Wayne had made a few, designed to be fully-manned, weaving stories of men fighting alien krakens and sampling glowing ocean vents for new medicines. Batman had recieved the leftovers for his own vehicle. He wasn't quite sure what had spurred Luthor's interest in the oceans of the subterranean moon of Europa- was it just a whim? Or was there something more going on here?

It was probably just that Mars was a lifeless rock, and Europa might be something else. Luthor didn't seem the sort to be captivated by a planet composed of nothing but red sand- a frozen extraterrestrial ocean might just be more interesting.

At first, Batman had thought it might have been a suggestion from his daughter. Lena was a bright girl, fascinated by ideas of alien worlds and alternate timelines. He'd found drawings and descriptions of such things in various, short-lived art projects in her files, when he'd been investigating her after the Vital incident. She seemed to have a talent for drawing- but then again, she seemed to have a talent for anything she put her mind to. Batman wasn't quite sure which of those talents were natural and which were the memory implants Luthor had programmed her with. Maybe they all were.

It wasn't a pleasant thought. Even when the loss had eaten so much of him away, the memories of his own parents had become distant, blurred. He remembered some things clearly, though. Like his father, bemusedly watching that boy he'd been gather all the detective books he could after a Grey Ghost marathon. Thomas Wayne had asked him a few questions, checking to make sure that enthusiasm wasn't built on false assumptions- and then did nothing but encourage him and sit nearby if any questions came up. It was painful to think about, now- but it was so precious to him nevertheless.

From what surveillance he had managed to get on their dysfunctional family, though... Alexander Luthor was not that kind of father. He wasn't that sort of man at all.

Judging by the genetic and memory implant candidates chosen for the cloning process, Lex had a very clear idea of what his successor would be like. The psychological profile was quite consistent- a clever, logical, idolising sort of personality. The sort who could run his company perfectly when he was gone, and who would never let anybody forget the legacy he left behind.

The 'education' she'd been given, too- that had focused on Lex's own skills. Chemistry, mechanics, robotics especially, with a comprehensive education in various other subjects. He'd wanted someone who could build on his own achievements- after all, you couldn't overshadow giants when you stood atop their shoulders.

Of course, the result had been nothing like the expectations. Batman wasn't quite sure whether it was nature, nurture or something in between that had upset that man's vision, but Lena's personality was what Lex might consider the worst outcome possible. She was independent, creative, personable, and haphazard in what she chose to focus on- the exact sort that might end up overshadowing him.

Still, there were aspects of that personality he'd intended for her. She was certainly a genius with robotics. He'd collected the remains of her initial vehicle- she'd called it the Dynacycle, a perfectly valid (if uninspired) name- and it had been… impressive. Lena probably hadn't even realised it. If she were anything like Lex, her armoury would be entirely mechanical- but the deficit of implanted biological or geological knowledge seemed to have left her craving more of those challenges, throwing other options to the wayside simply because they bored her.

That brought up another aspect of that prototype personality which had made it through- the idolisation.

It's a trainwreck waiting to happen, he thought.

Luthor or Mercy hadn't caught her attention, but- like the rest of the United States- Superman certainly had. Here, in front of her, was everything her father wasn't- noble, righteous, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. She idolised Superman- and, once they'd met, Batman as well, much to his chagrin- and her hero worship was bad enough she'd got it in her head she needed to help.

He'd considered refusing her, trying to convince her to just return to a normal life. Alfred had pointed out two things- that her 'normal life' wasn't an especially happy one, despite all the luxuries she had, and that any girl who tried to fight crime right under Lex Luthor's nose was likely not going to be stopped by a little bit of disapproval. Usually, he didn't regret the decision he'd made- Lena was motivated, diligent, kind, the seed for being a true hero someday.

Sometimes, though, he did regret it.

He'd managed to access a few of her notes- while she privately mocked her own father's reliance on technology for security, she'd made the same mistake, and physically entering her base to read them was easy enough. Her ideas… they were, in many ways, frightening.

Superman was already, for all intents and purposes, a physical god. Bullets couldn't pierce his skin, jets were as vulnerable as branches to his grasp, tanks could be seared in two by a mere look. He was the perfect being.

Lena had seen perfection, and wanted to go beyond.

Silver ant pigments, to keep 'red sun' or 'kryptonite' wavelengths of light from blocking the energy siphons Superman used to maintain his power. Glass sponge skeletal matter, to more effectively distribute the light that empowered him. Electric eel and oriental hornet genes, to escalate the levels of bioenergy to something even Superman couldn't hope to match.

And judging from more recent notes- avian neural density, nerve rearrangement- this wasn't going to stop any time soon. If everything went well for her, she wouldn't only be getting more learned, she'd be getting more intelligent. Where, then, would she stop? The strength to defeat Superman? The strength to defeat ten? A hundred? More?

The worst thing was, she considered it a hobby. Something to pass the time.

She'd mentioned it being 'like going to the gym' for her- a method of self-improvement that she could just do for fun, something that would make a happier, healthier Lena in the future. She didn't have an end goal, she just did it because there wasn't any reasonnot to- and, if he was being honest, probably as an act of rebellion against her father as well.

The action was a clear threat- heading towards a terrifying destination. And yet it was also a child, finding a way to express herself, at no cost to herself or anyone else.

It wasn't a situation that had some clear, easy answer. So he'd added to his contingency plans, and- despite what he'd said to her- he still hadn't what he'd wanted to say, when he found her worn out, happy, and standing over a supervillain fried by his own stolen bioenergy. He'd ground out every reason why what she'd done had been stupid and reckless, yes- but he still hadn't said what he needed to.

That day hadn't been the day. Today wouldn't be either.

He entered the base. Framework- as Lena had called her flimsily-constructed costumed persona- was sitting at the computer, typing away, looking over schematics and layouts, as oblivious as anyone ever was to his presence.

She was wearing the third version of her costume, having finally settled on a bowler hat as her headwear of choice. Her backpack was new, as well- but adjacent to her chair sat the one he'd delivered her gifts in, stuffed to the brim with snacks, sweets and cheap bottles of flavoured water. And the second Dynacycle had been constructed at some point, its sleeker shape (somewhat more like a kart than a bike) hiding a multitude more thrusters to help it endure the damage that had destroyed the last one.

He walked around her chair, heading to the side of the room. He got her attention with a cough when he was there, and stepped out of the shadows that had concealed him. "Framework," he said.

The girl looked up from her work. She glanced at the wall behind him, wondering exactly how he'd got there- we'll need to work on her situational awareness, he thought- then tried to find anywhere to look but the place he was standing. "...Ah, Batman!" she said, with fake cheer. Good, he thought, she knows she's in the wrong. "...How are you today?"

Neither he nor the girl appreciated long, winding conversations. When the two of them talked, it tended to be short but meaningful- best to be blunt, then."Where's John Corben?" he asked of her.

Lena dropped the cheer, and grimaced. She fidgeted uncomfortably. "I, ah…" she started, then paused. It took a moment for her to work up the courage for her next sentence. "...I can't really tell you that. ...Sorry."

Batman frowned. "You donated a cure for Orozco's retrovirus to the International Institute of Medicine yesterday," he pointed out. "The exact rare disease Corben was suffering from."

She waved her hands in a negative gesture. "Um- I'm not saying I don't know where he is," she said, attempting to clarify. "I do. I just… I just can't tell you that." A pause. "Or any other enforcers of truth, justice and the American Way, for that matter," she said sardonically- if there was one thing the girl didn't like, it was serious moments, and she tried to break them whenever possible.

Unfortunately, this was a serious matter- she could make all the sarcastic comments she liked, but none of them were ending this conversation any sooner. She'd left a chair out for him, anticipating this talk- he accepted it, and sat down. "Why not?" he asked. "He's a criminal."

"Because…" The girl tugged at her sleeve. "Well… I'm obligated," she said.

He leaned forwards. "Go on."

The girl looked to the side of the room, and huffed in irritation. She wasn't irritated at him- or rather, that's what she'd told him when she'd done it before. To Batman it just seemed like she was trying to divorce that feeling from him, rather than not having it in the first place. "He was dying when I pulled him out from working with Father," she explained. "And he was being offered his freedom by Father, just… not in a way that would end well."

"Going back to prison is better than both of those things," he pointed out. Lena's expression told him she knew that just as well as he did.

"Yes, but… it wouldn't have been a better offer," she told him. "He'd have taken Luthor's offer anyway, to stay a free man. If he didn't accept, then…" The girl shrugged helplessly, despite her more confident facial expression. "What would I have done then? Told the authorities, 'oh, my papa's got a terrorist in his basement, could you come pick him up so I can do gene surgery on him?' Pfft," she scoffed. "Like that would do anything."

"You could have done that," said Batman.

Lena looked away. The confidence left her face. "...no," she replied guiltily. She was thinking about her father. "I can't."

And there was the other half of that dysfunctional familial relationship.

For all the maturity of her actions, Lena wasn't emotionally mature yet. As far as he was aware, the closest thing she'd had to a peer for most of her life was Mercy Graves- she was fortunate the woman held a level of sympathy for her. Before Robin, it had just been herself, Mercy and Luthor himself.

Luthor kept his crimes- those infuriating, well-covered crimes- out of his private life. Unfortunately, Lena was too curious for that- she'd actively dug those crimes up just to see what he was doing. It was… normalised, for her. She didn't see Luthor's criminal nature as something that could be solved, but something inevitable, something she couldn't change.

So she made no effort to. Having met Luthor, and having seen the depths he could sink to, Batman couldn't blame her. But it was more than that.

Lena knew, academically, that she should have reported those crimes a long, long time ago. She'd resigned herself to doing it, he'd realised, at some point in her life. But her biological father was the only parental figure she had. Mercy was too lax to be one- after all, she was paid to be a bodyguard, not a child minder. And she seemed to think of Alfred as being more like an uncle. Superman and himself, there was no chance- her hero worship was in the way.

Which left just Luthor. A man who didn't care about her, who wouldn't lift a single finger for her, who would use her as bait just to get a military contract- and yet, he was her bastion of stability, that one part of the world that seemed to make perfect, perfect sense to her. She did love him, that much was obvious.

She called him 'father', 'Lex' or 'Luthor' when she talked about him- certainly not an affectionate choice of words- but her lexicon changed when she discussed him indirectly. Sometimes she called him 'dad'- just now she'd even called him 'papa', and she didn't even seem to have noticed.Consciously, Lena seemed to think the reason she wouldn't stop him was just because it was wrong for a child to do that to their parent. The real problem was that she really did love her father, even if she got nothing from that love in return.

If you could ever call a child's love a problem, Batman thought, now is that time.

So they both knew, both Batman and Lena herself, that it wasn't a healthy relationship- and if anything was proof of it, the fact a seven-year-old girl could look at her father and say he wasn't good enough had to be. She needed to be removed from him, put with a real family. Somebody who would love her.

And yet… doing that to Luthor, to her, could potentially shatter her trust in him. It was a complicated situation even before taking her capabilities into account.

With those capabilities in mind? Batman just didn't know how to go about it. Even Alfred didn't know how to go about it- he'd asked. Some situations just didn't have a good answer, and yet... he needed to find one anyway.

But he didn't have one, not now. So he sat there with her, in silence. Without that answer… he didn't have a course of action to take. Not an acceptable one, anyway. Lena didn't know how to justify breaking her word without being unable to justify letting her father be a free man, and Batman didn't know what Lena would do if he tried to bring Corben- and by extension, Luthor- to justice. So Lena felt she had to keep her word, and Batman couldn't take Corben in without making her a liar- and though she was content to hide the truth, the girl couldn't stand being made a liar. Perhaps even enough to override her approval of him.

A bad situation, with bad choices. Just like any night in Gotham, he thought sourly. So he changed tactics. "Why have you hired him now he's cured?" he asked. He hadn't been able to see her files since he'd been hired- this was a question he wanted to know the answer for.

The girl seemed grateful for the change of topic- they both knew this wasn't over, but they also knew it wasn't something they wanted to answer today. "Okay," she said eagerly, "so I hacked the US government."

"...I'm aware," Batman said disapprovingly.

She scoffed. "Likeyou didn't hack them five years ago."

"I didn't," he said truthfully. "It's a good way to get the wrong sort of attention, Framework."

"You should probably start soon, then," she responded, passing him a document. "There's things you want to see. Or don't want to see, as the case may be."

He flicked through it. "Codename: Ten," he read. "Enhanced strength, durability. Unable to feel pain." He skimmed those pages more closely, his frown getting deeper with each page. "Codename: King. Pyrokinetic blasts. Codename: Jack, autoelasticity. Codename: Queen, ferrokinesis. Codename: Ace. Eye-contact-based insanity inducement." He glanced at the pages. "These are children."

"With a playing-cards theme and somebody capable of driving the entire country insane if they got a hold of a decent news network," Lenas snarked. "Really, I don't see any way this could have gone well for the government- it's practically an open invitation for the Joker to come in, kill all their dudes, and use their feelings of resentment to try and make the world burn. Again."

He flicked through some more pages. "This Ace girl," he said. "They're using some sort of headband to control her."

Lena looked uncomfortable. "...It's more like a reversible lobotomy than conventional understandings of the term," she told him.

His eyes narrowed at the page. I'm not surprised she's uncomfortable, he thought. The girl's not much younger than she is.

So that was why. She wanted to rescue these children- and Corben made for a deniable asset.

That left one question. "Do you think there's good in Corben?" he asked.

She blinked at the sudden change in topic. Then she looked down in thought.

He let her think.

"...Honestly? No," she replied. "...But I think there's the potential for it, somewhere."

"That's good enough for me," said Batman. A white lie. "He can help."

Lena looked up at him, eyes wide. "You're going to help?"

"There's people who need me," Batman replied.

She grinned, and opened up the notes she'd made on her plan. Time would tell if he'd regret his implicit permission for Corben to go free.

But saving those children, keeping them from being turned into weapons, giving them real lives… He wouldn't regret that. He'd never regret that.

If only he knew how to do the same for Lena.