Work Text:
Superboy burned the rubber soles off his sneakers on the Harley Quinn Expressway. "When did they get robots!!!" he screamed over the explosive roar of the Safety Mechs in hot pursuit, leaping up a ramp and through a burning ring of fire.
"I'm guessing yesterday!" Robin yelled back, riding piggyback and fiddling with his holo-computer, legs clamped around Superboy’s waist. "Given that today's the first time we've ever seen them!"
"Okay, better question," Superboy puffed, "WHY???!!!!!" He leaned left as the road curved, apparently spiraling downward in three loops, each larger than the last. While he sped along the path, one of the mechs jumped off the top level directly to the bottom to cut them off. "Uh-oh!"
"Stop!" the mech's speaker crackled, holding out its arm in a standard ‘halt’ motion. "This is for your own safety!"
"Maneuver nineteen!" Robin barked.
"Right!" Without slowing down Superboy leapt over the machine and blasted it with his Freeze Breath, encasing the torso in ice. It collapsed under its weight just as the dynamic duo landed.
Two more identical mechs behind them sidestepped the wreckage. One fired an oil slick onto the road in front of the boys. "I promise we're here to help you, not hurt you!"
"Funny, why don't I believe you- oh no WHOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAA!!!!!" Superboy slipped and fell, sending both boys sliding on their bums.
The other shot a metallic net over their heads. "NOPE!" Superboy sliced it in two with his heat vision. The pieces fell harmlessly to either side of them. "Rob! Anything?"
"Their schematics are buried in classified government files. I think they're legit," he replied. "Definitely don't wanna rough up the pilots either way."
The mechs’ arms unfolded into gatling guns. The boys picked themselves up and tentatively raised their hands to the level of their eyes.
"Then whatta we do?!"
"Don't make us shoot!"
Robin scowled deeper than usual. "Plan Zeta."
“You sure?” Superboy checked, with a sideward glance.
Robin nodded.
“Okay. HAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” One blink later Superboy scooped up Robin in his arms. In a practiced maneuver, Robin curled up into a ball, which Superboy then yote with all his alien might.
“GEEEERONIMOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” By the time the mechs started firing, Robin was halfway across Gotham, grappelling safely onto a rooftop out of sight.
He crouched and once again opened his holoscreen, pulled up to a live feed from a news chopper.
Robin slapped his hand over his mouth as he watched his partner become encased in high-density polyurethane foam. No escaping that. And then the net fell.
The opening bars of “The Sound of Silence” echoed through the Watchtower meeting room. Green Lantern sighed. “Alright, whose phone is that?! And come to think of it, how is it getting reception up here…?”
“Hrn.” Batman opened an old black flip phone with a yellow bat logo on it. “This line is for emergencies only,” he growled. “What? No, slow down-” The other leaguers looked at each other with growing concern. “Don’t move. We’ll be down right away.” He shut it and rose from his seat. “Kal. With me.”
But Superman was already off to the Zeta-Tubes.
“What’s the matter?” Diana asked.
“They have him,” Batman soberly replied. “We were always afraid this day would come, but now that it’s here…”
“Wait, I’m sorry. Who has who?” Flash wondered.
“Child Protective Services. They took Superboy.”
“Why won’t you let me see my son!” Superman roared.
The lady at the counter seemed unfazed. “Sir, we believe he ought to be separated from you until his living situation can be properly investigated and assessed.”
“On what grounds?!”
“Reckless child endangerment, for starters,” she replied, “encouraging him to run around fighting monsters and criminals before he’s even old enough to consent.”
“Wha- he loves being Superboy! And I couldn’t stop him even if I wanted to!”
“With all due respect, sir, that’s a problem. If you can’t prevent your son from potentially hurting himself then maybe it would be best to place him in the care of someone who can.”
“Like who?! I’ve seen what the government does with kids like him and I will not stand by while-”
“We’ll also need to investigate housing, truancy, and neglect, as well as the possibility of domestic violence to ensure the child’s safety and well-being in your care.”
“I don’t believe this! What gives you the right?!”
“Are you really in a position to be asking that?”
Superman took a deep breath. Times like this, he wanted to break through every door, wall, and person standing in his way, he wanted people to respect him, to fear him. But that wouldn’t help his case right now. So, calmly, he asked again, “Would you please just let me see him? So I can see that he’s okay?”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Superman. You’ll see him in court.”
“Alright,” Lois said, before taking a sip of coffee, “where do we start?”
She, Clark, Oliver, and Diana all looked to Bruce, who brought with him a briefcase full of relevant research. “First, we need to get on the same page,” he began. “This didn’t happen in a vacuum, and if we don’t stop it here it could lead to a flood of legal attacks against every League member with a partner who looks even remotely young.” He passed out copies of a case file, stapled into leaflets. “Young Justice v. Old Justice. Seven years ago a group of vigilantes who operated as teenagers in the 1930s sued to disband Young Justice on the grounds of child endangerment, as well as a distrust of youths’ ability to make wise decisions and take responsibility for their actions. Young Justice defended themselves by citing counterexamples where they showed they did, indeed, possess those skills, as well as through compelling rhetoric outlining how previous generations have failed the youth of today. Public discourse quickly grew fierce. News outlets took sides, public debates were held. But the case was ultimately thrown out without a ruling when a large number of heroes, gathered in support of the cause, was attacked by Klarion the Witch Boy.” Everyone at the Kents’ dining room table collectively shuddered at the mention of that particular incident.
“So you think this case might reopen debate?” Oliver asked.
“Think? I know. Take a look at this.” Bruce swiveled his laptop to show everyone a clip of G. Gordon Godfrey’s show. But right after he hit play people started talking over it.
“Must we listen to this fear-monger’s nonsense?” Diana pleaded.
“Turn that off! The guy doesn’t know what he’s talking about!” Oliver complained.
“Maybe. But this clip perfectly encapsulates the rhetoric of the opposition,” Bruce replied. “We need to understand the arguments they’re going to use against us in order to develop appropriate strategies to win this.” He backed up the video and pressed play again.
“Well what do you know? It seems that Superman isn’t such a super dad after all! Late last night, Superboy was finally flagged down by Child Protective Services’ Safety Mechs: a new initiative with the humble objective of protecting powered children from themselves. But hang on just a minute, Gordon- why would they yank Superboy like that?! Well, my dear viewer, it’s really quite simple. WHY is he wearing a cape, AT ALL?! He’s such a BOY it’s even in his NAME! He should be racing remote control cars! Not ripping the roofs off real ones! Now now, let’s for a moment give the old S-man the benefit of the doubt. Surely he believes he’s doing his son a solid. All this power at such a young age- ha! Can’t imagine football being much of an outlet for that! BUT. By giving him a cape and a license to kick crime in the nubbins, dear old dad is teaching this poor impressionable lad that might makes right. That power means you can do whatever you want! And in the meantime, he’s being exposed to fires. Floods. Earthquakes. WMDs. MASS MURDERERS! Any ONE of which would leave a normal boy with trauma to last the rest of his life. Now I know what you’re thinking. Surely Metropolis' favorite smiling sun-child couldn’t possibly be in any better health, in the hands of our planet’s self-appointed savior? But that’s the thing- we don’t know. For all we know that smile could be hiding suffering undreamed of.”
Bruce stopped the video there. “What do you think?”
Oliver whistled. “Looks like we got our work cut out for us.”
Clark pressed his fingers together. “That’s exactly why I didn’t want him to become Superboy in the first place.”
Lois reached for his hand. “Honey, it’s okay. Jon’s okay. He’d tell us if anything were wrong, wouldn’t he?”
“I suppose you’re right,” Clark conceded.
“The first question seems obvious,” said Diana, to get things back on track. “How many of these arguments are provably true?”
“As it turns out, not many,” Bruce replied. “The first argument is that he’s a child, and that it would be objectively better for him to behave like one. But every underage partner we take on has a reason they want to do it- need to do it. Context that the public isn’t aware of.”
“Not Jon,” said Oliver. “Gordon was spot-on with that one. He didn’t lose his parents like Dick or Roy. He didn’t have a war to fight like Donna. He’s only in it to learn how to use his powers to help people- and to people like him, our definition of ‘helping’ doesn’t mean much. There’s no explanation.”
“Except he was attacked by a Kryptonian murder robot,” Lois countered. “Which is the entire reason I endorsed the decision. So he could learn to protect himself from everyone bound to come after him just for who his father is. Like the Eradicator. Or General Zod.”
“There you go. Context,” said Bruce. “Aside from that and the possibility of sustained trauma, the only other claim he’s making is that we’re accidentally teaching him that might makes right. An entirely erroneous claim, if you ask me, which Jon should be able to attest to himself.”
“Then we have nothing to worry about.” Oliver relaxed in his seat.
“Hrn. Hardly. This rhetoric may be easily countered with the truth, but that’s the sticking point: you would have to tell the truth. Which brings me to the real obstacle race…” Bruce handed out some relevant printouts. “...they’re going to demand to inspect Jon’s home.”
“Everyone already knows his father is Superman,” Lois said, picking up the logic in a flash. “But at home he’s Jonathan Kent, son of Clark Kent. We can argue back and forth for hours about what constitutes child endangerment when the child in question is half-Kryptonian, but if we refuse a home inspection to preserve the secret then they’ll have the grounds to seize custody even if the charges don’t stick!”
“This isn’t even about Jon’s well-being, is it,” Clark growled. “This is a calculated attack!”
“They can’t capture us directly because we’re too powerful. But the children are easier targets they can use to force us out of hiding,” Diana observed with growing dread.
“And if we cave once, then they know they’ll be able to do it again, and again, until every major Justice League member is either demoralized or off the board,” Bruce finished. “All while staying clean in the public eye; after all, it’s for the children.”
“Brilliant,” Oliver grumbled. “Then what do we do?”
Robin slid open a strange window to find a familiar face. “Psst. Superboy. You awake?”
“Hnng leeme alone Rob! Not tonight!” Jon complained, bundled up in his cot.
“What? You do know this isn’t your room, right? I’m busting you out!” Robin said in a harsh whisper.
“But I don’t wanna go."