He's not surprised when the kids go off the reservation.
He's surprised that the League thought their little "Hall of Justice" pass was going to make the kids happy. Even The Bat seemed to think it was a good idea. Didn't they know anything about kids?
Jade had gone off after Speedy when he left in anger. No surprise there. It was only a matter of time for those two to do something like that.
He didn't like it, but he hadn't been caught unawares.
He just hoped that Jade didn't plan on making him a grandfather any time soon.
Artemis would have tagged along with her big sister—or at least tried to—if Kid Flash hadn't made some snide remark about it. Either he was smarter than he acted—which was pretty much a given—or he just lucked out on the right buttons to push for Artemis.
The Cadmus thing … that had surprised him.
Oh, not that the government was up to something shady regarding Superman. More than once, he'd been hired by the Feds to do things that weren't strictly speaking legal … or moral. The idea of having a walking, talking, weapon of mass destruction at their disposal was enough to make most spooks he'd met drool.
No, he's surprised at the League's response.
"They disobeyed us." The Bat's used him as a sounding board often enough that he's not surprised that he's told him the whole story. "Robin disobeyed me."
"Did you tell them not to go?"
Silence.
"The kids are growing up. You can't show them the Life—give them a chance to make a difference—and then tell them they aren't supposed to do it without you."
"Your daughter was part of this, Crock. She could have died."
"You think I don't' know that, Bats?" He wheels himself back from the table and points at his legs. "I live with that thought every day. Every time the girls go out I wonder if this is the night they aren't going to come back. And I'm stuck in this damn chair and can't do a damn thing about it." He takes a deep breath. "I've had to trust in my girls—trust in what they can do, what I've taught them—what Canary's taught them—and let them live the life they've chosen."
"They aren't ready to be on their own—he's not ready."
He knows who the he is, of course.
"He's your boy, Bats." He met the eyes that he knew were behind the mask. "He's your son. I know it's not by blood, but he's yours. He can do this. They can do this."
"So, what? The League rewards them for being reckless? For putting their lives at risk—for putting innocent people at risk?"
"It's not a question of reward or punishment. You don't punish a bird for leaving the nest. You teach it how to fly. You're right. The kids aren't ready to be on their own. They still need guidance. Just not the same kind you've given them in the past."
"The clone. Robin calls him 'Superboy.'"
"Yeah?"
"I thought Superman would take him—"
"But he chickened out? And that surprises you?"
"He's Superman."
"Yeah. And you expect him to instantly be filled with parental devotion to this teenaged stranger with his face? How long did it take you to think of yourself as Robin's father?"
Silence.
"He's got a lot to figure out—and so does the boy. The boy needs a home. Family can come later, but right now he needs a roof over his head and to think that he's got people he can count on. If you want him to be more than a weapon, then you'll make sure he has that."
The Bat was quiet for a moment. "We're thinking about setting them up as a team. Let them run a few missions without us. Things that we think they can handle."
"You can't stop them from fighting, but you want to choose their battles?"
"Yes."
"And you want Artemis to be part of your little band?"
"Yes. She's good. She's level headed. And she'll probably tag along with them even if you tell her no."
He barks out a laugh. "You're right about that."
"Arrow's not heard from Speedy since he left. Jade-?"
"Yeah. She called. They're okay. She's going to stay with him for at least a few days. Try to get him to calm down."
"He won't go back to Arrow, will he?"
"No." The window of opportunity for that had closed. Some scars don't heal.
"And Jade?"
"She says she'll be home soon." He doesn't believe her. She's been chomping at the bit ever since she graduated high school. There was too much of him in her—it was time for his little girl to try life on her own.
The Bat knows him well enough to read the truth behind the words. "I'm sorry, Lawrence."
"It's okay. She's a grown woman now." If he tells himself that long enough, maybe he'll believe it.
"I need your help, Lawrence."
Now he was surprised.
"What did you say?"
"There's nothing wrong with your hearing, Crock." He knows The Bat well enough to know there's a smile in the words. "Canary has offered to provide them additional training. Red Tornado will be their official liaison with the League—he's not close to any of them so they won't feel he's being overprotective."
"Red's got a mother hen complex like you wouldn't believe. I should know. He's been babysitting me for years now."
"Canary and Tornado are professionals, but I'd like your input too."
"What? As their den mother? You want me to bake them cookies after each mission?"
"We've had this discussion before, Lawrence. You've still got skills. You can teach them things even Canary can't. And you're good at reading people. If Superboy's a threat, I want to know about it as soon as possible."
And if this clone was dangerous, his baby girl would be right on the front lines. There was really only one answer he could make. That didn't mean he couldn't have fun with it …
"Ah hell, Bats. You know I can't resist you when you give me those puppy dog eyes …"
The resulting Bat glare lowered the temperature of the room at least ten degrees.