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Clark is the only one willing to go to Gotham and see if the Batman is real.
Diana and Arthur think he’s real, like Clark does, but assume that he won’t be open to talking. Dinah and Ollie don’t believe he’s anything more than a myth and refuse to waste their time. The rest—Hal, J’onn, and Barry—aren’t sure, but either way don’t want to risk themselves.
So Clark goes.
He isn’t exactly expecting welcoming arms, but what he gets is beyond that. It’s a dreary day, the oppressive kind that Metropolis isn’t very familiar with, with the clouds gathering threateningly over every inch of the city. All around, he hears sirens and cries and laughs that don’t really sound happy. The people look at him like he’s a bomb waiting to go off, like they wouldn’t trust him if he said the sky is blue or grass is green. Women with children hurry out of sight, and men glare at him, tense like they’re preparing to fight him. The people whisper amongst themselves that he’s an alien, dangerous, unknown, and that no matter what those people across the way think, there’s simply no way he’s nice.
Clark doesn’t land on the ground—he doesn’t trust this city, having heard and written about all kinds of horrific crimes that’ve happened within the lines—despite knowing that hovering above the people won’t help anything.
He asks them where he can find Batman.
People laugh at him. He can’t tell if it’s because they know he isn’t real, or because he’s being so straightforward about it.
“No can do,” a man says, looking at him with derision and amusement.
“Do any of you know where he goes, then? Where I could meet him?”
“He’s nowhere,” a woman replies, pushing past people to stomp away.
“Then is there anyone who might be able to contact him?”
“You should stop trying,” a kid says, sagely nodding his head.
“I’m sorry,” Clark replies, trying to be polite, “But it’s just too important.”
A few people start to talk at once, the ones whose glares had been more obvious that others’. “Why do you want to know, anyway?”, one asks, while another demands, “Why are you really here?” The rest are harder to make out.
There’s no hesitation in the teenager that comes up to him, a strange look in her eyes. “You’ll never find him. Now, leave us alone and go home!”
He doesn’t leave right then—he tries a few other spots first, because it is important that they find Batman, if he’s real—but he has to eventually. Empty-handed and mind working, he returns to the mountain.
“At least you can say you tried?” Barry offers.
“It sounds like he isn’t real,” Hal points out. “It’s weird they said he’s nowhere, not just that they don’t know where he is.”
Diana replies, “Very weird,” and suddenly they’re all debating it.
After, when they’re all going their separate ways for the night, J’onn meets Clark’s eyes and gives him a curious look.
Clark smiles at him and goes.
They were too adamant, he thinks. If someone doesn’t exist, if they’re just a myth that’s nothing more than an annoyance, they would’ve just said it. But they didn’t. They were suspicious, too, like they didn’t want him snooping around.
Batman is nowhere. Nowhere that Clark can find him, anyway.
Over the next few years, Clark keeps a look out for any information on the Bat. There’s always more opinion pieces on whether he’s real or not, and usually Clark avoids those unless he hears that there’s some kind of new details emerging from it. Mostly, he looks at police records and reports, encounter stories, and Gotham’s newspapers which always refer to him as if he’s real.
The rumor of Robin is distressing, to say the least. He isn’t mentioned often, and there are many people who say he doesn’t exist, even while they think Batman does. Clark isn’t sure how old the child is—over the years, the few accounts put him between ten and sixteen, one even positing that he had started as young as six. Most believe that he’s a teenager, most likely a relative to Batman, a son.
Clark looks at how Ollie, Barry, and Arthur treat Roy, Wally, and Garth and thinks that if Robin is real, and if Robin is in fact Batman’s son, then Batman must be the worst father in the world.
(Roy, Wally, and Garth don’t last long at all in the superheroing world. Not because they aren’t good—Roy’s aim is on par’s with Oliver’s, and Wally is certainly of a speed with Barry, and Garth is extremely powerful for his age—but because they’re children. Even if they were the best, most talented kids in the world, they deserve better than a life full of crime. And anyway, with them safe at home, there are less distractions for the League. It’s better this way.)
(Sometimes, it’s hard to look at them, living relatively normal lives, and not wonder about Robin.)
It’s not something that consumes him, not really. Between work and saving the world, it becomes a sort of side hobby. Lois asks why he’s so interested and he says honestly, “I’d like to talk to him someday.” Talking to Batman, he thinks, would be a very interesting and most likely frustrating conversation.
There must be some reason why organized crime in Gotham has slowly been going down. If Batman is doing that, well, he’d like to have him on the team. Maybe he wouldn’t want to join the Justice League, but Clark is sure that it would be worth it to at least ask.
When Donna starts the Teen Titans, Clark congratulates her and wishes her luck. She thanks him and jokes that she’s going to do better than he and Diana ever had, and he says, sincerely, that he’s sure she will. She’s had years on Themyscira to train, friends to spar with, and Diana to look up to. There’s no way she won’t blow them out of the water.
Information about the team comes to him through word of mouth.
At first, it’s just Donna and Garfield Logan. She asks Garth, Wally and Roy if they want to join, but Garth has responsibilities he can’t get away from, Wally wants to go to school, and Roy is more interested in other kinds of work. He hears from Dinah that they were all told the offer won’t expire, ever.
Next comes Victor Stone, a boy with a dad Clark wants to talk to, and the girl named Raven, who is largely unknown to them all.
He doesn’t pay much attention to their every day actions, just the big things. The Fearsome Five are always causing trouble, and most of the fights that he hears about are fought against them. Usually, he leaves them to it, secure in the knowledge that they’re more than capable of handling these situations on their own.
Then Diana says that Donna told her Robin had joined the team.
Robin’s nineteen and apparently extremely talented at what he does. Donna and the rest know his name but won’t share it. No one knows why he’s suddenly decided to break away from Gotham, establish himself as a real person, and join the Teen Titans.
It means, at least, that Batman is most likely real.
The confirmation isn’t as exciting as Clark thought it would be.
It’s a long time before they actually meet. Almost eight whole months, in fact.
Donna had said to stay away, and because it’s her team, her teammate, he listens. Curiosity wells inside of him every time he sees Robin in action, sees how graceful and powerful his movements are, but he doesn’t ever do anything about it.
Then, one day, Diana says that the Teen Titans will be coming to visit the mountain. They’ll be bringing the new members that none of the Leaguers have met yet—Robin, who isn’t actually called Robin apparently, Starfire, and Jericho.
He’s heard of Jericho, of course, the son of notorious criminal Deathstroke. They all know, or know of, Slade Wilson. It’s surprising that one of his children would take up superheroing, and he hopes he can get insight on the situation by meeting the boy. As for Starfire, the presence of another alien has intrigued Clark since news of her arrival first came to them. Hal is the only one of them with any substantial knowledge on Tamaraneans, and what he does know hasn’t been good news so far—a race of warriors with an unfortunate history of war crimes being enacted on them by the Citadel.
“They’re passionate, and loving, too, but,” Hal had grimaced. “If she’s here, I doubt it was because she just wanted to take a joyride. Usually they don’t leave the Vega system unless they’re taken out of it. Forcefully.”
Then there’s Robin. Clark has a list of questions ready, unable to help himself even knowing that he probably won’t get any answers. He has to try anyway.
The first thing that he notices is that the Teen Titans have become more distant in the past eight months.
The second thing that he notices is that Starfire is very tall.
The third thing—Robin is staring at him.
Once the welcoming speech is over, Clark moves to stand right in front of him and sticks his hand out. “Superman. And you are?”
“Currently without a name,” Robin says. “Just call me Robin for now.”
“Robin. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Long time coming,” he agrees. “I was there when you visited Gotham.”
Clark had considered the possibility, but honestly, it hadn’t mattered whether Batman saw him firsthand that day. The papers talked about his visit for several days. Batman would’ve known either way. But it’s still somewhat shocking to hear how close the man had been.
“Really?”
“Yeah.” He looks excited, the lenses of his mask wide like he’s trying to take in all of Clark. “You were the first hero I ever saw other than Batman.”
“That reminds me,” he says, trying to be gentle. “I’ve been meaning to ask you… is it true you’ve been in this business for ten years?”
Robin puffs up proudly. “Coming up on eleven already. I can’t believe it’s been so long.”
It’s endearing, in an odd sort of way, but more than that it’s concerning. He hardly thinks before asking, “Is Batman really that cruel, to allow a child to fight crime?”
The others around them pause. Donna mutters, “Shit.”
Robin rocks back and forth on his feet, scowling. “Batman doesn’t control me, and he never has. I do what I want. The only reason he ‘allowed’ me is because he had no other choice.”
“So you forced his hand?” Clark can’t help sounding a little skeptical. There were many times Garth looked up at him and begged to go flying, and Clark said no because he knew it would hurt the boy to be away from water like that. Adults are supposed to be able to be mature and say no to children in cases like these, and Batman certainly doesn’t seem like a pushover.
“Yeah. Yeah, I did. Now if you’ll excuse me,” and then he’s pushing past roughly, heading for where Hal and Starfire are chatting.
Before they leave, Clark asks Robin if there’s any way he could tell Batman they would like him to join the League.
Robin stares at him for a long time, and it’s like Clark is see-through, the way the simple action makes him feel. He shudders to think what a glare might be like, and resolves to make sure their next interaction goes better than this one.
“No promises,” Robin says eventually, and then he walks to the elevator where Victor is waiting for him and they go.
It takes Batman nine months to respond.
In that time, the League and Titans meet again seven more times. Around halfway through the third, Clark and Robin finally manage to have a real conversation, where Clark’s foot stays out of his mouth long enough to get to know Robin a little better. He’s twenty, now, and works at a bar, and says Donna is his best friend. At the fifth meeting, he asks Clark about Krypton and really listens, even shushing Garfield when he keeps interrupting. A week after the seventh, he calls and they go out as civilians. He says his name is Dick and he’s been thinking about his secret identity and would it be okay if he goes by Nightwing from now on.
Clark says yes. There’s no one in the world who deserves it more than him.
When he asks what sparked Dick finally deciding, Dick shrugs and picks at the menu in his hands. “I guess it was just time.”
Of course, when Batman comes, Clark finds out what he suspects is the real reason why.
There’s a new Robin, who hides in Batman’s cape and looks at everyone and everything with big eyes and who keeps peeking at Dick when Dick isn’t looking. Dick doesn’t look at either of them very much.
“So you’re Batman,” Dinah says. She doesn’t sound particularly impressed.
“Yes,” Batman says. He manages to sound even more dry than she did.
“And this is…Robin.”
“Hi,” says Robin. “I like your fishnets.”
“Thanks.”
“Do they ever get ripped when you’re fighting bad guys?”
“All the time.”
“You should bring spares with you then.”
“Robin,” Batman reprimands.
“What? She should.”
“She does,” Ollie says.
“Good. Oh, and your mustache looks dumb.”
Barry laughs. “I love this kid!”
“Batman,” Dick says.
“…Nightwing,” Batman replies. “You’ve been busy.”
“Yeah, it turns out being social is, like, good for your mental health.”
They’re both silent for a long moment. Then Robin peeks around Batman’s cape and whistles lowly. “Wooooow, that wasn’t subtle at all. But he’s totally right. You should listen to him, B.”
“Don’t start ganging up on me,” Batman growls, failing to sound angry or intimidating.
“Too late.” Dick puts his hands on his hips and turns to face Robin. Looking at them—and pretending he’s not like most of the rest of the room—Clark can see they aren’t sure what to make of each other. Dick hesitates before pulling a card out of…somewhere, and handing it to Robin. “If you ever need help, or want to talk, or anything, you can call me okay?”
Robin takes it like it’s the most fragile thing in the world, and looks up at Dick, nodding sagely. “I will.”
After another moment of hesitation, Dick says, “You too, B. Now go talk to Superman.”
He walks off before either of them can respond, disappearing into the small crowd somehow.
Batman and Robin turn in tandem to Clark. Neither come to talk to him.
“It’s okay,” Dick says later. He’s looking at Batman and Robin, frowning softly, and Clark wonders what he’s thinking. “I like you better. Sometimes, I mean. Diana is pretty cool. Kind of a tough competition.”
Clark watches as the new Robin peers up at Diana, practically shaking with excitement. He’s adorable, but Clark doesn’t find it very easy to forget he’s a child. A child who should be home, safe from the dangers of this life. If he says anything, though, he has no doubt that Batman will react strongly, and he’d rather do that a different time, when Robin isn’t around. “She is,” he agrees. “But thanks, I think. You’re pretty cool, too, Nightwing.”
Dick hums, smirking, and makes sure to give him a fistbump before he leaves. Batman and Robin watch him go and say nothing. It’s only then that they approach, though obviously Robin is more interested in Diana. Batman reaches out to shake his hand. Unsure of what to expect, Clark takes it.
Batman’s grip is too strong, and if he were human, it would hurt like hell.
“For some reason,” he says, “My son likes all of you. I’m unimpressed considering your base is poorly organized, your technology is behind the times, and your gym is direly understocked—”
“When did you have time to go to the gym?!”
“—but. I won’t be causing problems.”
“Unless causing the problem will lead to things being fixed,” Robin points out helpfully.
“Yes. Unless they lead to things being fixed.” He glances around. Without saying anything, just turning down the corners of his mouth with more condescension such a simple act should ever be able to have, he conveys that he clearly thinks there are a lot of things that need to be fixed.
“Are you trying to intimidate me into not hurting Nightwing?” Clark asks. “I’m confused. We don’t even see him that often.”
“I think he’s too scared to threaten Wonder Girl.”
“Robin.”
“What? Am I wrong?”
Batman uses his free hand, the one Robin’s closest to, and ruffles his hair, pulling a squawk from the boy. To Clark, he says, “I’m not threatening you. Trust me, you would know if I was. I’m just saying.”
“Just saying,” Robin grumbles. “Why don’t you just say that you have a vendetta against me looking professional.”
“Helmet hair is a staple in this line of work.”
“I hate you.”
Batman hums, unconcerned. He looks Clark in the eye. “I believe we have an understanding.”
Numbly, Clark nods.
Left standing there with his hand still out, actually smarting from the handshake, he’s beginning to think the community isn’t ready to have more than one Bat in it.