Author's Note: Hello Young Justice fandom! This is just a quick one shot that I've been playing with for a while. For those who are following my other story Sacrifice, don't worry, I'm also working on chapter four for that and hope to have it up in the next week or so.

Also, I am still pretty new to the Young Justice fanfiction world, so please feel free to offer up any constructive crits, especially when it comes to how I portray these characters.

A couple quick things to note:

1) This takes place just after the end of season one, but the rest of the team will not appear in this story.

2) I buy in hardcore to the headcanon that Dick Grayson came from what was basically a Romanian gypsy (um, is that a politically correct term? Can someone help me out there?) family that worked for Haly's Circus. There is only a very small hint of that here in this story so bonus points to anyone who catches it!

Okay, that's all I got! I hope you enjoy and please don't forget to leave feedback!

Hindsight

"How is he?"

Black Canary turned to look at Clark Kent as he approached before returning her gaze to its original position. "He's hanging in there."

Clark nodded as he turned to the observation window that Dinah was looking through. It looked into one of the small, private infirmary rooms on the Watchtower. In the bed lay a boy that looked much too small for his age. His jet black hair contrasted painfully with his unnaturally pale skin. Blankets had been pulled up to his chin and there were several tubes and wires that snaked out from underneath the blankets. Clark observed the breathing tube that was blocking the normally chatty boy's mouth – which seemed unnaturally still even when the boy was unconscious – and his eyes followed the tube to find that it was hooked up to a respirator. The boy was not breathing on his own.

"How bad was it?" Clark asked softly. When he had heard that Robin had been brought to the Watchtower for medical attention, he knew that it had to have been serious. Batman usually kept to Gotham unless he was absolutely needed elsewhere.

"It was bad," Dinah answered, her tone flat. "He has some pretty bad bruising on his shoulder and back from the impact with the ice. Crashing through the ice and submerging in the frigid cold water disoriented him enough that he couldn't get out on his own; it was a miracle that he was even able to find the surface. He was in that freezing river for almost ten minutes before Batman was finally able to get to him." She paused and then turned to face Clark, her eyes full of sadness. "He was almost dead by the time he got him here. His heart practically stopped. His small body just couldn't handle the extreme hypothermia."

Clark inhaled sharply at this news. "But he's going to be okay, right?"

"It was a close one, but yes he will be," Dinah told him. "He stabilized about an hour ago. He just needs to rest and regain his strength now. Right now the respirator is just a precaution to keep any strain off his body as he tries to recover."

Clark nodded, feeling relieved at this news. Dick was going to be okay.

"Who were they fighting?" Clark asked.

"Bane," Dinah told him. She sighed. "He somehow enhanced his Venom, he was even more powerful than Batman had been expecting. Things got out of hand quickly from what I can surmise."

"Did he get away?" Clark asked, unconsciously tightening his hands into fists at his sides.

Dinah nodded. "He escaped while Bruce was getting Dick out of that river."

Then his eyes shifted to the other figure in the room. "How's Bruce handling it?"

Dinah rolled her eyes. "Ollie had to physically restrain him from coming into the room while we were trying to resuscitate the kid. He almost boke Ollie's nose, but he would have just gotten in the way." She paused. "He hasn't left his bedside since though."

"I wouldn't expect any different," Clark murmured mostly to himself.

Clark turned and headed for the door to the room. As he opened it and walked in, Bruce didn't even look up at him. He was hunched over in his chair, his eyes trained on his hands that were clasped tightly in front of him. If Clark didn't know him better, he might think he was praying. He was still in his Batman uniform, though the cowl had been thrown back to reveal a worn expression on his face. The room was secluded and access to this area had been restricted in order to protect the secret identities of the two Gotham heroes from those in the League who weren't privy to that information.

Clark approached the bed. Dick looked even worse up close. He took a moment and just listened to the young teenaged boy's heart beating slow but steady. It was reassuring to listen to.

"I heard it was a close one tonight," Clark said softly. He glanced over at Bruce, but he didn't make any indication that he had heard him or was even aware he was in the room with him. "You holding up okay?"

"He almost died tonight," Bruce said, his gaze unwavering.

"But he didn't," Clark pointed out. "Dinah said that he's going to make a full recovery. He just needs rest now."

Bruce sighed heavily, and with what seemed like a large effort he pushed his elbows off of his knees, forcing himself to sit up in his seat. "One of these days, I'm afraid that he's not going to be so lucky."

Clark was startled by the confession. It was so rare to see this side of Bruce that for a solid minute he was at a complete loss for words. Finally he pulled up a chair and took a seat next to the unmasked vigilante.

"You know I wasn't your biggest fan when you first took on Dick as a sidekick," Clark said slowly. Bruce snorted at that with a dark smirk crossing his lips for just a moment at the memory. Clark gave him a tentative smile. "But he's proven himself over the years. At thirteen years old, he can handle things most full grown adults can't."

"It wasn't supposed to be like this, though," Bruce went on, pain in his voice. He ran a hand over his eyes tiredly. "I was supposed to… protect him from this. When I took him in, I never expected… this." He gestured to his unconscious ward.

"Dick has always been unconventional," Clark pointed out rationally. "Even before you got your hands on him. He grew up as an acrobat; doing death defying stunts probably since before he could walk. If he wasn't taking down the criminals of Gotham City with you, he'd be doing something else to get that rush. He was never going to be satisfied with an ordinary life. It's just not in his blood."

Bruce nodded, though he looked far from convinced. They lapsed into silence for a minute, the only noise in the room the hiss of the respirator.

"Why don't you go get cleaned up," Clark finally offered, eyeing Batman's still battle torn and stained uniform. "He won't be waking up for a while. I'll sit with him until you get back."

There was a long pause while Bruce seemed to consider this. Finally he stood up slowly, seeming to take extra effort to do so. Honestly, Clark was a little surprised he was taking him up on the offer. It spoke volumes that Bruce trusted Clark enough to leave Dick in his care while he was in such a fragile condition.

"I won't be long," Bruce said, still gazing down at his adopted son, and Clark wasn't too sure if he was talking to the unconscious boy or to him. Then he shifted his gaze to look at Clark. "Contact me if there are any changes at all."

"I will," Clark promised solemnly.

With one last look at Dick, Bruce finally turned as he pulled his cowl back over his head, tugging it securely into place before he headed out of the room, letting the door fall shut with a bang behind him. Clark silently watched him go before turning back to the small boy in the hospital bed.

It was painful seeing Dick like this. Over the years, Clark had become quite close with the boy. The Justice League, especially the original members, were like family. That feeling extended to the original sidekicks as well. Seeing Dick so broken was hard on him, and he knew that wasn't half as much as Bruce was currently feeling.

It was often easy to forget that Bruce and Dick were only human.

"You gave us all quite a scare, kid," Clark said, leaning forward as he spoke gently to the unconscious young hero. Dick didn't so much as stir.

Clark sighed. His eyes wandered to the machines that surrounded the bed, cataloguing them. A machine that was breathing for him. Several machines monitoring different vitals. All because of one slip up, one bad guy who got in one good shot.

Clark couldn't help but think back to a time when he had been appalled by the idea of Batman putting a kid in the path of such dangers as the criminals of Gotham City. He could remember very vividly a time when the issue had seemed so black and white that he thought Batman had been simply careless and selfish putting a mere boy in such treacherous situations.

But even looking down at this unconscious teenager, he could only reflect on how far they had come from the days where things had seemed so black and white. Looking back, the answers to questions he thought he knew were never as simple as he took them to be.

Four Years Earlier

When Superman landed on top of Wayne Tower in Gotham City, he had no doubt that Batman would find him. He hadn't been subtle about flying around among the skyscrapers, allowing himself to appear in full view of all the citizens below. Even though it was dark at this late hour, he knew that he would be easily recognizable in the ambient light from the city, especially a city that was still so active even at this time of night. That's the way that he wanted it.

It was the only way he knew to get the Dark Knight's attention.

He stood on the edge of the roof of the tallest building in Gotham, looking down toward the street below, frowning. He was not looking forward to the conversation that he was about to have. He hadn't wanted this responsibility put on him. Wonder Woman had originally volunteered for this task, but she was still too much of a hot head, especially when it came to men. An argument between her and Batman would not have been productive and most likely would have ended with injuries. The Flash had volunteered next, but there was a fair amount of doubt that he would be able to make an impact on the Gotham vigilante with all his joking around and inability to take anything seriously.

That had left Superman and Green Lantern. Neither of them had been thrilled by the idea and neither had really wanted to volunteer. Finally, Superman offered to do it himself, as he had had more interactions with Batman at this point, even if they hadn't exactly been pleasant experiences.

"Kent."

Superman was not surprised to hear the gruff voice come from behind him. He should have known that Batman would never approach him from the front. He also already knew how much the man liked to remind him that he knew exactly who he was, while Superman still had no idea who this masked vigilante was, though thankfully so far he had only used his real name when it was only the two of them.

"Batman," Superman said as he turned around. The caped crusader was hovering in the shadows, and even though he couldn't see his entire expression he seemed to be observing him skeptically.

"What are you doing in Gotham?" Batman demanded in a low voice. "I told you never to come here."

Superman held up his hands defensively. "I've only come to talk. I didn't know how else to get a hold of you."

"Then talk," Batman snapped. "I don't have all night."

Superman knew that he should have put more thought into what he was going to say before this moment, but he hadn't. Honestly, he was a little surprised the conversation had already made it this far.

"You know that I don't usually come here and tell you what to do in your own city," Superman hedged. "As long as you're not hurting anyone, I let you do things the way you want. That goes for the other superheroes too, Flash, Wonder Woman, Green Lantern…"

"What's this about, Kent," Batman interrupted, impatient.

At that moment, there was movement off to his left on the edge of the roof. He looked just in time to see a young boy freefalling onto the roof. This was especially startling, considering that this was the tallest building in Gotham. Where the heck had he fallen from? The boy softened his landing with an easy somersault, popping back up to his feet with ease. He was wearing a red suit with a large black R on one side and a black cape. There was also a black domino mask which obscured his identity. Superman tested his x-ray vision, but quickly found that the boy's mask was lined with lead particles just like Batman's cowl was, not enough to weigh down the article but just enough to obscure Superman's x-ray vision.

"Sorry, I'm late," the boy said brightly as walked over to where the two of them stood. There was something strange about the way he spoke, enunciating each word carefully. When he stopped he was still off to the side of the meeting, but was standing equal distance from Batman as he was from Superman. He looked up at the larger man, his expression giving away some of his surprise. "Wow, it really is Superman! You're a lot bigger in person!"

Normally, Superman was a very social person, especially with young fans, but he could hardly even look at this boy. Instead, he focused back on Batman.

"It's about him," he said, gesturing toward the young, costumed boy.

Batman's features remained impassive. "What about him?"

"Rumor has it you've got this child out on the streets of Gotham fighting crime," Superman accused.

There was a beat of silence.

"What's your point?" Batman finally asked.

Superman clenched his jaw, frustrated by Batman's lack of understanding. "That's not okay," he finally said. "This is no line of work for a child. I mean, how old is he? Seven? Eight? And you're trying to turn him into some sort of junior vigilante?"

"I'm nine!" the boy said indignantly, crossing his arms over his chest. The look of admiration melted from his features, leaving in its place a look of juvenile annoyance.

Superman had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. If he really was nine years old, he was very small for his age. And in any case, it didn't change the fact that he was a child being put in a very dangerous situation by someone who should know better.

"How can you possibly think this is okay?" Superman demanded, still stubbornly addressing Batman. "This is blatant child endangerment! He's going to get hurt, or worse!"

"It seems not long ago, you and your little superhero club came to me, claiming that a mere mortal couldn't fight crime," Batman pointed out lowly. "Since then, you yourself have admitted you were wrong when you tried to get me to join said club."

Superman stared at him. "What's your point?" he said, deliberately echoing Batman's previous statement.

"I would think that by now you would have figured out that I know what I'm doing," Batman said.

"This is completely different," Superman argued.

"Seems pretty similar to me," the boy observed, smirking slightly.

"A nine year old kid has no business challenging the criminals of Gotham City," Superman insisted, still resolutely focusing on the grown man opposite him rather than this child.

"I really don't see how this is any of your concern," Batman growled.

"Because, like it or not, the public groups all of us together," Superman snapped, starting to lose his temper. "Even if you refuse to associate with us, when people start questioning one guy wearing a mask and chasing down bad guys, they will start questioning us all."

"You don't wear a mask," the boy pointed out cheekily.

Superman sighed heavily, sparing a glance at the boy. "You know what I mean." He turned back to Batman. "Our 'little club' as you call it, is all judged by the same standards. We're all in the same league, whether you want to admit it or not. So it only makes sense that we should look out for one another. We're all on the same side, aren't we? I just don't want to see this kid get hurt."

"Duly noted," Batman spoke up, sounding bored. "Are we done here?"

Superman was struck dumb by Batman's lack of caring. Sure, the man often seemed reckless and his methods sometimes seemed a bit extreme, but Superman never would have thought he would put a child at risk like this. He went over his options in his head. There wasn't anything stopping him from just grabbing the boy and flying away. He could take him somewhere safe; maybe see what he could do about undoing the brainwashing that the Dark Knight had obviously done.

But as he turned and really looked at the boy for the first time, that plan quickly fell away. The boy's arms were crossed over his chest and his chin was jutting out in defiance. His stood firmly on both of his feet, his weight not wavering from side to side like most kids his age would have done after standing still for so long. Although his gaze was hidden by the domino mask, it did seem that he was staring right at Superman in almost a challenging way. It was surprising for someone so young to not be intimidated by him. Seeing that, Superman knew that physically removing the boy from this situation was not going to be an easy task.

"I guess we are," Superman finally allowed as he turned back to Batman. "Just know that we will be keeping an eye on the situation. If you endanger this kid and he gets hurt, know that I'll be back for another chat. And the next one won't be so civil."

Unsurprisingly, Batman didn't seem phased by this. "Fine," he said coolly. "You can watch all you want, but don't get in the way."

"Well, this has been fun!" the boy said brightly. He gracefully arched over backwards onto his hands, easily executing two back handsprings before flipping in the air, his body rotating one and a half times before he landed on his hands on top of the ledge that surrounded the roof. Superman could only stare at the display of acrobatics that this nine year old kid had just performed with the upmost of ease. Then, he shifted his weight onto one hand so that he could lift his other hand… and waved. "Catch you later, Supes!"

In the next moment, to Superman's upmost astonishment, the boy leaned backwards and fell away into empty air.

Reacting on pure instinct, Superman suddenly found himself on the other side of the roof, ready to jump after the boy to save him from meeting his end on the pavement down below. But, to his amazement, as he looked down he saw the boy was no longer freefalling. He was swinging away at the end of a grappling gun, making the action look so much more graceful and natural than even Batman did.

"For the record," came Batman's gruff voice, drawing Superman's attention even as his eyes were still carefully watching the kid swinging far above the streets of Gotham, "I wouldn't take just anyone as a sidekick."

Superman turned to comment on that, but when he did he found that Batman was nowhere to be seen. He sighed heavily as he rubbed the back of his neck. That had not gone as well as he had hoped.

In the following weeks, Clark had been obsessive over his promise to keep an eye on the situation. Almost every night for a solid two weeks he flew over to Gotham City, respecting the space of the Dark Knight by hovering far above the city, but staying close enough to keep tabs on his actions.

What he witnessed not what he had been expecting.

Not only was this child able to hold his own against criminals that were older and more powerful than him, but he proved to be an asset to Batman. His acrobatic skills were beyond what even Batman could do, making him quicker and more easily able to outmaneuver not only the bad guys but also his older and more experienced partner. This proved vital on several occasions throughout the weeks that Clark was observing them. His stilled even saved Batman from serious injuries more than once, whether by using himself as a distraction or intervening and taking out bad guys before they had a chance to get one up on the Batman.

More than that, he saw a change in Batman. He witnessed Batman's protective nature when it came to the boy, a side to Batman that Clark had never seen before. His methods were less ruthless and cruel when the boy was around. He also seemed less reckless, more aware of not only his own well being but also often distracted by the well being of the boy. As dangerous as it sounded to be distracted – granted it did lead to a couple injuries, mainly for Batman – somehow it also seemed to ground Batman. He seemed more… human. He displayed a humanity that had been sorely lacking in the years since his first appearance in Gotham.

As it turned out, taking Dick Grayson on as a sidekick had not only saved Dick, it had also saved Bruce. It turned him from someone that the beginnings of the Justice League had kept an eye on, worried that his methods were too cruel for him to be a hero, to someone who not only eventually joined the team but also helped build it up and make it into what it is today.

Clark was brought back to the present by the sound of Dick shifting in his sleep, slowly coming back around to consciousness. It was a relief to see signs of life from the boy. Before Clark could even react, Dinah was already hurrying into the room, obviously having been monitoring Dick's vitals. Clark stood back as she worked, watching her remove the breathing tube before he had a chance to full wake.

He was a strong kid. Stronger in ways that Clark never even had to think about. He knew without a doubt he would make a full recovery and would be eager to be back out on the front lines in the fight for justice.

Bruce swept back in, wearing a clean uniform, just as Dick was blinking blearily as he fought his way back to consciousness. At the sight, the Batman façade visibly fell away, even before he threw back his cowl. It was Bruce, rather than Batman, that approached the bed, crouching down and placing a gentle and comforting hand on his ward's shoulder.

"It's okay, Dick," he said softly. "You're safe. You're going to be okay."

After confirming that Dick's vitals were holding steady, Dinah retreated from the room and Clark followed close behind, allowing Bruce and Dick some privacy.

It had been a close one that night Robin. But more than that, it had been a close one for all of their sanities. It never sat well with them to be reminded of their mortality, and even less so when it was their protégées' mortalities that were brought to light.

"Where are you going?" Dinah asked when Clark started heading down the hallway.

"I think I'll pay Gotham a quick visit," Clark said, bitterness in his voice that was usually associated with Batman.

"You know Batman's not gonna approve of that," Dinah called after him warningly.

"I'll apologize after I teach Bane a lesson," Clark growled, not missing a step as he headed for the Zeta tubes.

The Justice League was a family. And nobody messed with his family.