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The atmosphere in the League’s cafeteria was tense. There was an undercurrent of uneasiness that spread like poisonous fume in the air. No one had said a word about it but they didn’t need to, the words they didn’t say and the looks they exchanged with each other were enough.
The Bat Colony was here.
Clark took a seat with his friends, sipping his drink slowly as he eyed the Bat clan. Even from afar, the group of masked vigilantes radiated something feral and vaguely unfriendly. The other League members called them the Bat Clan. Personally, Clark called them the Bat Colony. A group of Bats.
“Man, they are creepy. Why couldn’t they just leave after the meeting?” Clark heard his friend, Oliver Queen, whispered to his glass of beer. Diana Prince, another League member and Clark’s friend, just elbowed Oliver sharply. The Green Arrow winced and gave Wonder Woman a sullen look. “What? I’m just sayin’.”
Secretly, Clark agreed with Oliver. It wasn’t as if the Bats were provoking anyone, they just sat there, talking quietly among themselves like the tightknit group that they were. However, just their mere presence was enough to make the air subtly shift.
In private, Clark always thought that Batman should never have adopted, no kid should be near him ever. The Dark Knight didn’t just train vigilantes, he changed them. Clark wasn’t sure if it was for the better.
The Bat Colony was sitting around a table at the furthest corner of the cafeteria, their voice was pinched low but Clark’s super hearing could still pick out the words clearly.
Clark supposed he should start with the leader of the Bat Colony, the Dark Knight of Gotham, Batman himself. He was a tall and intimidating figure, black cape pillowing with each step he took, his boots echoed a steady TAP TAP TAP whenever he arrived at a meeting. His friends often joked that it was the sounds of the grim reaper approaching. Clark knew better though. He knew that the group could hear the tapping because Batman wanted to be heard.
Clark had worked with him after all. He had witnessed the man creeping in the shadow like he belonged there, the familiar sounds of his boots all but vanished and if Clark couldn’t hear the rhythmic beating of his heart or the soft inhales and exhales, he swore the man had blended as one with the darkness.
Clark didn’t know what kind of training Batman had given his ‘family’ but the Dark Knight had never needed to raise his voice to dispute a conflict between his ‘children’. A tilt of his head or a soft call of their codenames was enough to make the kids obey. He unmistakably held the utmost power in their group. In front of the League, his ‘family’ had never once directly challenged Batman. All orders were met with obedience.
However, even with the power he held, Batman rarely stepped in to take control, preferring to leave his kids to solve whatever problems they had on their own. It may as well be the best solution because whenever the man spoke, nothing good happened. The low, gravelling voice left no room for rebellion and even if he was soft spoken, everyone went quiet whenever Batman demanded for attention.
The man was always all business.
Sitting next to him was his eldest, Nightwing, and he was also probably the most sociable member among the Bats. He smoothed out disagreements between the children and prevented bloodsheds from happening. Tousled jet black hair framed his face, the part of his face that didn’t hide behind the mask showed the hints of a very handsome face, sun kissed skin and soft pink lips. Even his outfit was designed to draw the eyes, black Kevlar wrapped around the lean body that rippled with each movement, blue stripes ran along his arms. He was a beautiful but deadly creature.
One time, one of Allen Bart’s kids had been bold enough to ask Nightwing about his outfit, and the wicked smile that appeared on the masked vigilante’s face had made the kid stepped back cautiously but Nightwing had leaned forward before the kid could run away. The hero had placed a gloved index finger on Wally’s lips, gently dragging his bottom lip lightly in a sensual caress before he whispered in the kid’s ear.
“Shhh, it’s a distraction.”
Whatever Nightwing had done next had made Wally blush so much that his face matched his red hair. Clark later mused to himself, he shouldn’t eavesdrop like that. What was done is done though and Clark couldn’t erase his own memories even if he wanted to.
For the next several months, the young speedster could be seen mooning over Nightwing much to the Bat Colony’s amusement. Nightwing never said a thing about it but it was apparent that he knew the effect he had on people and he only exaggerated it for maximum efficiency. A distracting swing of his hips, a ghostly brush of his fingers, the curve of his lips that dripped with sins, all of it was made so that people would drop their guard around him.
Clark thanked his own luck that he had never been one of Nightwing’s ‘practice targets’, he wasn’t so sure how he would react if the seductress’ attention was on him.
The second eldest son of the Batman was also the second tallest in the group, just a bit shorter than their mentor. He was also the one that Clark was most conflicted about. The infamous Red Hood. Clark had kept an eye on Gotham’s news and his civilian occupation as a journalist meant he had an insatiable thirst for knowledge.
Clark had caught the news about the new vigilante that was willing to kill in Gotham. Or perhaps, Clark should rephrase it, he had caught the news about the villain that was willing to kill other villains. When Batman approached the meeting with Red Hood just behind him, Clark had briefly wondered if Batman had gone rouge but after a quiet but firm ‘He’s one of mine.’ The matter was never mentioned again, not in front of the Dark Knight. And no one was idiotic enough to say anything about it where Batman could overhear.
Unlike his older brother and certainly similar to the other Bats, Red Hood was antisocial. He never spoke to anyone outside of their circle unless he was spoken to first but even then, his voice was always angry, always with a hint of hostility like a ticking time bomb. It wasn’t as if he was deliberately disrespectful or provoking, he just gave people the impression that he would explode if they spoke just one wrong thing.
He was also fiercely protective of his family, a trait that was shared among the Bats. He was the only one in their family that used guns instead of less deadlier weapons. When asked, the Red Hood just tilted his face, his expression hidden but his voice was full of amusement when he spoke. It wasn’t hard to imagine the feral, slightly insane grin that must have spread across his face.
“Don’t worry, I only use rubber bullets when we spar…”
There was a brief pause in the answer.
“…Unless you do something to warrant a change of bullets, of course.”
Like many things when it came to the Bats, no one mentioned it again. There was also an unspoken universal rule not to provoke Red Hood if it could be avoid. The young man was obviously unstable in more than one way and no one was eager to test their luck with a Bat trained child.
Then there was the third child of Batman, the second youngest and seemingly, the least threatening member physically. Red Robin was his codename. Behind the Bat Clan’s back, he was called the brain to the Bats’ muscles. It was a misconception, Clark was certain. However, he could agree that the kid was a genius.
Compared to the others, Red Robin looked sickly. Pale white skin that spoke of hours without sun, wiry body instead of the muscular figure his second brother had. Goggles covered eyes that Clark guessed were ringed with dark bags. His fingers always moved, either typing or writing down something. Even when he was free, Clark caught the ticks and the subtle taps of fingers against a flat surface. Sometimes, it was Morse code, and other times, it was something Clark wasn’t familiar with.
Out of everyone, Red Robin seemed to be fairly harmless. He was soft spoken, the kind of meek awe that charmed the heroes’ hearts. He mostly kept to himself, hiding behind the shadow of his brothers’ taller, broader forms. He smiled often, it was always the same knowing smile when he talked to the other League members and the same love-laced one when he interacted with his ‘family’.
However, seemingly harmless didn’t mean that Red Robin was actually harmless. There were many incidents that happened randomly whenever someone talked bad about the Bat clan even while they were out of hearing range. No one could prove anything but there was one time that had convinced Clark that Red Robin was behind it.
Mysteriously, all of Oliver’s embarrassing ‘adult’ watching material appeared on the League’s computer screen for everyone to see. None of them was able to trace it back to the ‘prankster’ but the previous day, Clark had witnessed Oliver complained about how ‘creepy’ the Bats were and from the corners of his eyes, Clark had seen Red Robin standing there in a hidden corner, his whole body was relaxed but the atmosphere around him was almost icy cold.
There was a different smile that appeared on his face that day, a smile that no child should have. A smile that no heroes should have. Red Robin had raised one finger and in a gesture almost similar to Nightwing, he had whispered a soft word that only Clark could pick up.
“Hush.”
When the movie was playing on the big screen along with all the exaggerated sounds that came with it, Clark had turned around and met Red Robin’s eyes. The child had inclined his head and placed a finger over his lips.
Hush.
Superman didn’t say anything and nothing happened to him from that day onward.
Clark sometimes wondered what Batman must have done to earn such loyalty.
Finally, there was the newest addition to the family, a child that carried the traditional mantel of Robin until he decided a new name for himself. He was a small thing, obviously the youngest and also the chattiest one as well much to everyone’s amusement. What came out of his mouth were mostly insults, savage insults in fact, but the others had a long history when it came to ignoring the Bats and they didn’t take what he said to heart.
His prepubescent, child-like voice probably sounded cute to the others as well. Clark heard the other members call Robin ‘Demon child’ behind his back. It was fairly amusing to be perfectly honest.
Robin looked almost normal, too if it wasn’t for the sword he carried. It was no training sword as well, perfectly capable of inflicting bodily harm if its master was threatened. Usually, he didn’t talk to the other vigilantes but when he did, it was only demands or insults. Even Clark himself had caught the end of Robin’s insult at least once.
Robin was closest to Nightwing and wherever the older hero was, the younger one could be seen observing from afar or actually just stuck close to him. Clark thought it was endearing but the sentiments weren’t returned if the disgusted look on Robin’s face was any indications.
Clark’s train of musing was interrupted when Oliver nudged him and he startled, looking back at his friend. “Yes?” He inquired curiously, raising an eyebrow.
“You were staring at the Bats without eating. I know you have that weird fascination with them but man, you should drop it if you don’t want them to murder you in your sleep.” Oliver said, it was only half joking.
Clark chuckled softly. “Don’t be absurd. Batman has a no kill policy.” He reminded his friend. It was the thing that differentiated him from the villains that they fought days after days. Without it, Clark had to admit, it was hard pressed to see him as the vigilante that he was.
“Yeah well, Batman does. But no one says anything about his kids- oh my god. Is that what I think it is?” Oliver joked but then his voice got surprisingly high pitched and squeaky. The rest of their group, including Clark, turned to the direction that Oliver had stared wide eyed at.
It was the Bats again that had gained everyone’s attention. It was not a real surprise. They tended to do that whenever they appeared. However, how they gained everyone’s attention this time was the thing worth mentioning.
Nightwing was apparently trying to smooth out another argument between Robin and Red Hood if what Clark’s super hearing was telling him was correct. The attractive vigilante had hooked his chin on Red Hood’s shoulder, leaning heavily against him in a loose grip that was too intimated to be brotherly affection.
One of his hands had slipped down and was now holding onto Hood’s wrist to prevent the man from drawing his gun, his lips pressed near the other’s neck, almost touching but not quite and his lips moved in meaningless coos that were meant to sooth a spooked animal while his other free hand wrapped around Robin’s shoulder and slid up his neck. His gloved thumb was tracing small circles on Robin’s tanned neck, sliding up and down in the same distracting familiarity that he was giving Red Hood.
“They are brothers. That’s… That’s…” Allen said, lost for words. Clark searched his brain for a reason.
“Maybe that’s how they show affection in Gotham.” He tried but was immediately shot down. Even to his own ears, the reason sounded weak.
“Bullshit, that’s an excuse and you know it.”
“Maybe they are not brothers, their skin colors are different.” Diana tried. It sounded much better than Clark’s poor excuse for the… public display of affection that the Bats shared. He felt flushed like he had just stumbled upon a scene reserved for lovers.
“Still…!”
Red Robin leaned forward, apparently feeling left out. Having soothed the fight, Nightwing pulled away from both Red Hood and Robin, focusing his attention on Red Robin. The older vigilante smiled and grasped Red Robin’s hand, pressing his lips against his palm.
“Um… Hey, kids… I don’t want to intrude in the moment but… We are not like that… here…” A voice interrupted the ‘family moment’ and Nightwing released Red Robin’s hand to look up while Clark focused on the poor soul as well. It was Hal Jordan. Ah, a brave man.
The cafeteria abruptly turned silent. Clark could hear that some people had stopped their breathings, looking at the scene with a mixture of fascination and horror.
Nightwing patted Red Robin’s hand once and pulled himself straight from his slouch. “Yeah?” The young man said quietly, tilting his face like a curious cat as he looked at Hal. Or perhaps, like a bird studying its prey.
Both Red Hood and Robin tensed. It wasn’t a very visible thing, Clark doubted he could have caught it without the use of his superpower. Red Robin just smiled. Batman remained silent, continuing to sip his drink calmly like there was no interruption at all.
“…Yeah…” Hal answered, a note of uncertainty crept in his voice. Clark noted that Hal was one of the members that weren’t usually around when the Bats unleashed their particular brand of… intimidation and he was wholeheartedly unaware of the danger the group processed other than the gossips of the League members as a whole.
“I see.” Nightwing chuckled softly, standing up slowly, almost lazily.
“Oh he’s so dead…” Oliver whispered. In the quiet room with a lot of meta humans and trained fighters around, his voice sounded obnoxiously loud despite his best effort. Red Robin’s head snapped to Oliver instantly and the young man smiled, showing a flash of white behind those lips. “Shit.”
“Would you like to take this somewhere… private then?” Nightwing asked, prowling close as he crowded up Hal’s personal space, gloved hand cupped the other male’s cheek in a tender lover’s touch. “I don’t remember seeing you around, maybe you just haven’t witnessed our affection often. We can all educate you. Would you like that? Or maybe you want to teach how to show affection the correct way?”
The lewd undertone was clear as day and Hal swallowed, adams apple popped in nervousness as he wetted his lips, looking between Nightwing and the rest of the Bat Colony.
Red Hood snorted and let out a sharp bark of laughter that echoed in the quiet cafeteria.
Batman still hadn’t reacted.
Hal, apparently caught up that he was being teased, pushed Nightwing lightly. It was by no mean a hard shove or even a shove at all, just a push to put some distance between the two of them but the push had apparently tipped something off balance because in just a split second, Hal had found himself facing Red Hood’s gun and a sword wounded around his neck, the metal licked his skin teasingly but didn’t break it.
Red Robin’s smile had dropped completely and he had taken out one of his various electrical devices, typing away while maintaining eye contact with the older hero.
Around them, heroes and heroines along with their well-trained vigilante instinct had pushed them to action as weapons, glowing eyes and glowing hands pointed between Hal and the Bat family, ready to spring into action should a fight break out.
“Oh my god…” Next to him, posing with his arrow and bow, Oliver breathed out softly.
Clark took a deep breath as he steadied himself. “Enough, guys. Don’t start a fight. We are heroes.” He reminded the group, feeling like a tired teacher with a bunch of trigger happy children.
Everyone automatically focused on Nightwing. The vigilante shrugged, raising both hands up to look as unthreatening as possible. It would have worked better if Clark hadn’t known what those bare hands were capable of even when without weapons.
Batman finally, finally paused and he slowly lowered the drink down before he glanced at his children and Hal. “Boys.” He quietly said, the first word he had said since he arrived at the cafeteria with his children following closely, making the air even colder and tenser than before.
Red Hood and Robin immediately lowered their weapons. Robin with a faint ‘Tt’ and Red Hood with a small unintelligent sound. At least they obeyed. Clark thought. Red Robin shrugged and closed his laptop while Nightwing took his seat beside his brothers again.
At once, the atmosphere changed again, this time it was for the better. The others lowered their weapons slowly, still tensing up for a surprised attack, you never know with a Bat, really. Oliver slowly lowered his bow as well. “Thank fuck…” He mumbled.
Batman apparently had had enough because the man placed his drink down much louder than necessary, the sound of the contact made the other vigilantes tensed up again. The Dark Knight stood up and his children followed his lead.
“Draw weapons on my children again and you will wish I didn’t have a no kill policy.”
Batman spoke to the room.
The air turned cold.
Nightwing smiled and clapped his hands together. “Let’s go, guys.” He said, wrapping a hand around Robin much to the younger boy’s irritation and rubbed his other hand along Red Hood’s spine in a soothing motion. Batman turned on his heels and left, the familiar TAP TAP TAP bounced off the walls in the silent room as it slowly grew smaller and smaller until Clark couldn't even hear it anymore.
Nightwing and the rest of the Bat family left as well, leaving a stunned cafeteria full of heroes and heroines behind.
Later, Clark mused, it was no wonder that only the most insane dared to set foot in Gotham while the other smaller criminals had nightmares about the Bat Colony.
Even Clark himself had a hard time suppressing his own uneasiness in their presence.
He was glad the bats were on their side of the war.