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The S stands for Sitter

Summary:

Clark knew a lot of things. Perks of being an investigative reporter he supposes. He knew that Batman tended to work alone when not involved with the Justice League. He knew that Batman was so secretive about his personal life no one knew anything about his real identity. He knew that he always slept with the window closed. He knew that there was no hero who wore red, green and yellow. He knew when someone needed help desperately.

He didn't know Batman would want a child hero fighting by his side. And he didn't know how the child hero knew where he kept his cornflakes.

Or, Dick, through a mouthful of cereal: hey batmans-stop screaming-batman's missing can you help

Notes:

once again, i am coming from a tumblr post that inspired me so uhhhhhh yeah

also, the fact the court of owls was going after dick is a fact that is always going to haunt me personally, what do you mean if he wasn't taken in by bruce he was going to be tortured and literally killed so that he could instead become an assassin that is almost imortal? fucked up man (might have helped that the owls arc was one of the first comics i read, lol)

also also, got the idea to make dick selectively mute in this fic from noodle and tea on instagram! she has some very cute art so i would highly recommend checking her art out!

anyways, i love these freaks (complimentary) so please enjoy this!

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Clark knew his apartment all too well. Even without any help from his powers he was able to pin down anything he was looking for in an instant. So he knew the intricacies, inside and out. Everything in its place and everything had its place. Lois teased him relentlessly for it, but he liked his apartment just the way it was.

So, like second nature, he knew something was wrong before he even woke up properly. Something about the way the curtains fluttered, maybe. Or, perhaps it was the way his door was open just a crack.

The thing that really sold it, as he blinks the rest of sleep from his eyes is the quiet clattering in the kitchen.

That gets him shooting out of bed and rushing out his bedroom as quickly as he can without the assistance of superspeed. Lois had always told him someone would break into his apartment one day and he should finally invest in some locks. He always reasoned that if they did break into his apartment they may need help in some way and if they were an actual threat he could handle it easily.

He skids to a stop, and the scene he enters in on takes a minute to register for his eyes.

There is a tiny person dressed in red, green and yellow, sitting on his kitchen counter criss-cross-applesauce and eating a very full bowl of cornflakes. They don’t even look up at him immediately, halfway through a chew when they finally meet his eyes. Or, at least he thinks they do, somewhere behind the mask they wore.

With how they were dressed Clark assumed they were… a superhero? A very tiny superhero who he had never met before? Hopefully a superhero who would help him? Or a tiny superhero who needed his help and he could assist?

“Uh, hello,” he says, waving his hand at them awkwardly. They nod in acknowledgement before digging their spoon back into the cereal and taking a big bite. “Can I… help you?” They nod as they scoop another bite into their mouth but don’t elaborate.

Could they not speak? Clark knew enough sign language to carry on enough conversation to ask how he could help and receive an answer.

Before he can do that they pull a little notepad out of seemingly nowhere, one hand balancing the bowl of cereal in their lap. They look back up at Clark expectantly.

“Oh!” He startles, beginning to pace around the kitchen, unsure of what he is doing before his brain kicks back into gear and he prepares all his questions. Being a reporter had that sort of effect on him, always getting questions ready fast. “Right, uh, let’s start with names. I’m Clark Kent and I use he-him pronouns.” He extends a hand and the little hero but they don’t take it. Instead, they scribble in their notepad as Clark slowly lowers his hand. He considers for a moment if he should make coffee for the two of them before the notepad turns around to face him.

I’m Robin, he-him as well. I’m Batman’s sidekick./ The paper reads.

And, huh, Clark didn’t even know the Bat was the type to get a sidekick. He always knew of the man as the loner type who didn’t have time for anyone else.

“And, how old are you Robin?” He asks because Robin being a sidekick meant he may be a bit younger than Clark had first thought. To be fair, he’s seen some small adults who still had that baby fat on their cheeks.

He places the notepad on his lap beside the half full bowl and draws the number, flipping it over so Clark can see as he takes another bite of the cereal. Ten.

Okay. Cool. Awesome. Great. Batman was actively putting a ten year old on the line. This didn’t make Clark feel anything towards the man. Perfectly normal stuff. It didn’t make Clark unreasonably angry.

“Okay, and why are you here?”

The kid places the bowl beside him as he hunches over the paper to write a nice long explanation but digs into the cornflakes again as he lets Clark read the paper.

Batman was taken by bad guys and Agent A isn’t home. I’m supposed to go to you if anything bad happens cause B trusts you. He said you’d keep me safe.

Oh. Okay. Cool. Great in fact. Clark was just unknowingly this kid's emergency contact. He was the emergency contact of Batman’s sidekick. Did this kid not have parents he could go to? Couldn’t he go to the police? Was it a major threat? Wasn’t this kid from Gotham?

“Alright, well I will certainly keep you safe.” He promises the kid, watching him mow down the rest of his bowl of cornflakes, tipping the bowl back into his mouth and shoveling the last bits in. When was the last time this kid ate? “Can I ask how you got here? Don’t you live in Gotham?” It makes a pit settle in his stomach thinking about this kid walking all the way to Metropolis from there. What if something bad happened? Was he hurt?!

Bus. Oh. Right. There was a line that went almost directly to Gotham from here. But… Did he travel as Robin? That could be bad if so. While the thought of this kid traveling in his costume was incredibly cute to think about, Clark was worried if he was spotted leaving Gotham and his location was compromised.

He sighs, looking at the kid and wondering just what he was supposed to do with him. Obviously help, but, well, Clark was a bit lost. He wasn’t used to children and he needs to get some more information out of him to know what their plan would be. “Do you… want more cereal?”

The kid grins and nods.

-

Flying was familiar to him by now. He enjoyed the feeling of the wind whipping in his ear and through his hair. He especially liked it now that he had the warm weight of the child currently under his protection. Robin's eyes don’t need to be seen for Clark to know that they are wide with wonder. He thinks he spots just the faintest blush of excitement behind those auburn cheeks when he rolls. Tiny hands clutch tightly to his suit and a bit of his cape.

Clark was always a fan of kids.

Robin makes a tiny squeak as Clark begins to dive down as they approach Gotham. He flew low, ensuring the airspace was free for the planes leaving and entering as he dove and side swept towering buildings. Robin's grin is so wide Clark swears it's going to actually split his face in half.

Okay, time to focus.

Robin didn’t know where Batman had gone, just that he had been taken. That left this part of the mission entirely to Clark’s capabilities. And he was more than capable. His time spent with Batman made him rather acutely aware of his heartbeat and general mannerisms. Even in a crowded city like Gotham he could pick out Batman in a near instant. Lois always said it was freaky how easily he could find his loved ones just based on a heartbeat.

He considers, for a moment, he should get used to the little hero in his arms as well. In case the kid ever needed his help again. Best to be prepared seeing as he was this baby hero's emergency contact.

The city is bustling with noise, people walking to and from work and some being accosted and—no, focus, one thing at a time. First, find the Bat.

He closes his eyes, hovering in the air in the centre of the city, feeling the child in his arms clutching tighter at his cape. Now that they were in the open air and not moving he trembles faintly, probably from the chill. Clark takes a moment, still focusing on narrowing down the Bats heartbeat, to wrap his cape around the child.

There.

It’s faint, beating heavy with exhaustion and the beginnings of dehydration, but it’s there. Deep below the city. Clark listens in closer, pinpointing the exact location and finally opens his eyes as he flies over the spot. He lowers back to the ground and places a now pouting Robin back on his feet. There was a subway tunnel entrance that was mostly abandoned at the late hour.

“Okay, I’m going to get Batman. You stay here,” Robin frowns and hurriedly takes out his notebook and writes down in it.

Batman lets me help on missions, the kid gives him a look, a bit of a pout and a raised eyebrow. And, well, now Clark just felt bad for making this kid think he was doubting his skills.

He didn’t, for the record. If Robin was working so closely with the Bat then Clark knew he had to be strong and competent. However, he really didn’t like the idea of losing the kid down there, he had no idea what to expect; but he had an idea. It was tunnels, loads of them under the city and spanning nearly the entire underground. Not the subway, however, something more expansive. He had pinned down Batman's location inside them, but who’s to say what state he would be in? Who or what might be down there with him? Clark didn’t want to risk the child at all if he could help it.

“Yeah, but—” Admittedly, Clark has to actually think of a good reason for this kid to stay behind. Something about those little eyes clearly glaring at him from behind the mask said that Robin wouldn’t be taking no for an answer. “He’s not here right now, and we’re doing this by my rules.”

The child raises an eyebrow at him and crosses his arms over his chest with a scowl. It takes everything in Clark to not pinch the little hero’s cheeks with how cute it is.

“I need you to call for backup, do you know how to contact the police?”

Robin nods, pulling out his notebook to write down, I know Mister Gordans number personally. Okay, good, whoever this Gordon person was could help then.

“Okay, call them and get them to this location. Tell them Superman is here to help.” He hands over his own phone and trusts the child to not riffle through all his work emails. He considers how the child might do it, being unable to speak, but Robin is smart and pulls up Clark’s messenger app and begins to type out a text to Gordan.

Only after seeing him do that does Clark walk towards the subway station.

He walks down the stairs slowly, glancing back a few times to look at Robin and ensure the baby hero wasn’t following him. The station is abandoned when he fully descends into it. The last train rumbles through the station and Clark begins to get to work.

He could pin down the Bats heartbeat, quiet through the thick walls of the tunnels. But he was here. Somewhere. Far beyond the walls of the subway tunnels. He hops down onto the rails and begins to feel his way along the walls, hoping for an easy entrance.

The tunnels are dark and damp, it must have rained recently. His hand comes away slightly damp as he works his way through the tunnel, following the lights of the train.

His feet clack against the metal of the rails as he walks deeper and deeper into the darkness. It didn’t bother him, even as the squeaks of rats began to pick up. His vision was still impeccable even in such utter darkness. He keeps his hands on each wall, feeling his way along with every step.

His hand catches on something and he stops.

The entry way is tiny, barely big enough to fit an adult and almost certainly would be a tight squeeze for him. But it was there.

There was a draft. Cool air slowly flowing out and brushing against his hand. It would have been almost impossible to find if one wasn’t looking for it. He’s almost certain no one would ever look for it.

He takes a breath and begins his further descent as the entrance slowly curves down, deeper into the earth.

He comes out of the utter darkness into such bright white that it would have blinded him if his eyes didn't adjust so naturally quickly. He blinks away the spottiness of his vision and sees the room he was now in.

The flash of an old fashioned camera is the next thing he sees beyond the photographs on the walls. It makes him a bit sick to look at them, men and women growing gaunt and sickly in each of them. He tries to focus back in once more, listening to the heartbeat that echoes around the tunnel walls. Batman was still alive and was walking through the maze almost aimlessly.

So, Clark begins to follow after him.

The place is huge though, several dead ends and shrouded in near total darkness. The only places with any light are the room with the camera and a large room with a small pool beneath a giant owl statue. It unsettles Clark enough that he tries to avoid those rooms as much as he can in his almost blind wandering.

Hands grab onto his shoulders as he turns a corner and attempt to grapple him to the ground. He barely holds himself up enough to grab the hands of the Bat who now looks much worse for wear than Clark had ever seen him. His cheeks are gaunt and covered in some stubble. He looks wild in the dim light. “Whoa, hey! Friend! I’m an ally!” Even those words take a minute to register before the snarl on the Bats lips settle into a grimace, an expression Clark is used to by now and is more than familiar with.

“Kent?” Yeah, way to rub it in mister worlds best detective. (Clark would still figure out his identity one day.) Batman looks lost and confused for a moment as he stares. “Robin actually came to you?” With those final words Batman collapses to his knees with a groan. He’s clutching his ribs and Clark takes a quick peek in on them. None broken, thankfully, but he is certainly not well. Some internal bleeding here and there along with several stab wounds. He’s indeed very malnourished. He’s barely holding on as it is.

He drops to his knees beside the man. “Of course he did!” He grabs Batman's shoulder and hoists him up to a more comfortable position against the wall where Clark can help where he can. Batman sighs; from relief upon hearing that his sidekick is safe or pain Clark couldn’t tell. Maybe a bit of both to be frank. Batman glances down the hallways leading away from the two of them with a scowl as Clark presses hands to his bruised ribs. “Now what is going on here?”

“Talons,” he grits out. That doesn’t explain much to Clark but he supposed it would have to do for the time being. Hopefully the police could get a better explanation out of him once he got him out of here. Speaking of which, Clark moves an arm around the Bat’s shoulders and hoists him up to his shaking legs. “Court of Owls. They were going to take my so— take Robin.” He doesn’t remark on that little slip up, beginning to walk the two of them out of here as he continues his little interrogation.

“How long have you been here?”

“What day is it?” Oh boy, that certainly wasn’t a good sign. Though, it makes sense, seeing as there was no natural sunlight down here.

“September third.”

“Three days then,” Batman sighs as they get to the slight incline leading towards the surface. It wasn’t an easy place to find, it’s no wonder how Batman managed to wander blind for three days without finding it. Clark possibly only found it because he was trying to find the man and bring him back to Robin.

There’s a hiss behind the two of them just as soon as Clark had managed to press the Bat into the crevice. When he turns he spots the person after them. Dressed in all black with a mask covering their entire face. Batman groans behind him as Clark prepares for a fight.

“They aren’t alive. You have to cut off their head or freeze them.”

Well, that thought certainly didn’t make Clark feel any better about all this.

The guilt on his conscience was lessened considerably once the—Talon? That’s what Batman called them, maybe—actually lunged for them. A quick look inside and, sure enough, their heart didn’t beat nor did their lungs try to fill. Truly, they were not living. In truth, from what Clark could see, they were suffering.

Though he makes a point not to kill, it’s easier to separate the head from its shoulders knowing he was ending their suffering. And, when the body goes limp, Clark tries not to think about what brought them back and how terribly their treatment was before.

“Evidence,” Batman says, nodding to the body. Of course. Right. This was one issue of a clearly bigger issue the man would be dealing with for possibly a few months.

“Yeah, I got it, let's go.”

The squeeze out of the tunnel is harder than the squeeze in, carrying the body and all.

Batman is stumbling but well enough to walk on his own as the two of them climb their way back to the surface. Clark watches him carefully as he climbs the stairs, gripping tight to the railing. He looks paler in the buzzing fluorescents overhead. Once they step out into the open air Clark drops the body of the Talon on the ground for a paramedic to get to so he can help the Bat keep upright. The police are gathered all around the subway they exit out of. The lights flashing on their faces as Clark helps Batman, stumbling, over to the gathering.

He scans the crowd for the little bird still under his care.

Clark spots Robin speaking to a red headed police man near the centre of the gathering, holding out his book and looking nervous as the officer says something in return. The officer looks up and nods over to Clark and the little baby hero’s head spins around to look so fast he worries the boy broke his neck.

Robin meets his eyes momentarily, face stretched with worry, then his gaze drifts down to the injured Bat Clark is practically carrying over to him.

He bolts.

“Dad!” Robin cries out, the first word Clark has heard from him, running up to Batman and gripping him tight around the legs, not for long though before the bat lowers himself to his knees and pulls the little hero into his arms.

Clark leaves them to it and wanders over to the red headed officer—possibly Gordon?—to give a statement. He keeps an ear trained on the two of them as Batman lowers himself to sit with his bird.

He can barely focus on giving all the information he can when Robin’s hands fly around wildly and Clark can hear his wet words laced in panic as he speaks to the Bat.

“I was so worried, you were gone so long and I thought that they took you too and you were never coming back and I-I—” when Robin can’t finish his words Batman pulls him close again and he wails into the man's shoulder. Batman's hands shake where they are wrapped around Robin's shoulders. One snakes its way up to hold the back of his head and trail into his hair. It’s the softest Clark has ever heard the man's voice when he speaks again.

“I’m sorry, I’m alright, I’m here, I’m safe. I’ve handled them.”

Okay, that’s good, they would be okay. He breathes out and closes his eyes.

“Everything alright?” Gordon asks him, glancing up from where he had written Clark's statement thus far.

“Yes, of course, now then—”

The police listen intently to his very detailed description of the labyrinth and its location under Gotham and the Talon he managed to gather as evidence. Hopefully, with all of that they could start a proper investigation, preferably with Batman's help so nothing else happened. Maybe Clark could stop by Gotham again and help weed out the rest of whatever was hiding deep under the city.

Batman is being treated in the back of an ambulance when Clark is finally done speaking with the police. Robin stopped crying a while ago but had yet to let go of… well, he called Batman ‘dad’ but that could have been a slip of the moment. The two look relatively comfortable, sitting together as Batman is given an IV. He grumbles faintly but when Robin glares at him slightly he relents and allows the paramedics to do their job.

Robin glances over at Clark who was debating if he wanted to leave early to make it home in time for work he still had tomorrow or stay around long enough to ensure Batman and Robin would be alright.

The little hero glances once more at Batman and leans in to whisper something before he is hopping off the back of the ambulance and rushing over to Clark. Small arms wrap around his waist and he glances down at the baby hero now hugging his legs. “Thank you, Superman,” he mumbles. Oh, that was very sweet, especially considering the boy hadn’t shared a single spoken word to him all night. After a moment tucked there he lifts his face and waves a hand to bring Clark closer to his level. Clark obeys easily, kneeling down on the level of the little hero and leaning in closer so the boy can whisper. “Don’t tell B I said this, but you’re my favourite superhero.”

With that, the little bird is rushing back to Batman and half-turns to wave a farewell to Clark. He stays around to ensure the little hero is back with his dad before he begins to fly back to Metropolis.

Lois was going to love this when he explained everything.

Notes:

also, yes i am specifically imagining movie superman and batman in this fic; i need them to drop that childs parents from a lethal height in the sequel