Tonnage

Brunch.

>>

Steph and Cass show up together just before ten, as it would seem that Steph had just stayed at the manor the night before. She does have a mother to go home to and often does. But having a room here is unbelievably convenient for nights like they just had.

They walk into the main dining area and see the table is laid out for eating, though the actual food has been set up buffet-style in temperature-controlled serving dishes. It's Alfred's standard for this kind of at best semi-formal events, as nobody knows when people will be arriving, and serving food that was off in any way is abhorrent to the old man.

Steph calls out as soon as they hit the doorway. “Tim! How are you holding up? Any dancing in your future?”

“Not near future, at least. Thompkins said the break is bad enough it'll probably be a good eight weeks to get the cast off. Maybe a couple of more after that to patrol again. You'll be having to forge on ahead without me for a while.”

Damian looks up from his tablet for a moment. “It is unlikely we will ever be truly rid of you. It has been said that evil never sleeps. I will add to that, annoyance never dies.”

Cass looks around inquiringly, her straight black hair spreading away from her slightly as she turns her head to look around. Then she nudges Steph and motions around. Steph follows her hand and shrugs.

“Good point. I thought this was going to be a meeting, where is everybody?”

Tim shoves his tablet away and brings the plate that Alfred had made him closer. “They got here about ten minutes ago and disappeared into B's office like a bunch of tween girls going to the bathroom. It was a little surreal.”

Damian snorts derisively as he stands to go make a plate of food for himself. “Irritating that they think they need to grill us about Tom, they should just ask him whatever questions they have. It would be nothing to simply send him a message and meet him where we spar.”

“They may yet do that, Master Damian. But they will need to have some idea what questions to ask, do they not?” Alfred is smiling as he wheels in another cart full of pastry options that are still hot from the oven. “Assisting them now will only speed us towards the time your father and his co-workers will be able to offer real assistance to your new friend.”

Orphan begins signing, and the rest of the room stops for a moment. 'Just so we are all aware, Steph and I will be going to sparring tonight. Tom needs money, and he earned it saving our lives.'

Damian nods in agreement while Tim grimaces. “I'm out of circulation for a few months. My leg got caught by a flying beam during the detonation. Honestly lucky it wasn't worse.”

Steph sits down next to Cass, the two of them having started plates of their own with some lighter options. They are expecting the meeting to last a while, so grazing is acceptable and less likely to make them look bad in front of the JL members. Thinking about that, reminds Steph of something.

“So who all showed up?”

Tim puts up a finger to stall because his mouth is full, but Damian answers too quickly. “Clark, Diana, J'onzz, and for some reason that escapes me Booster Gold came with them.”

There is wincing throughout the room. While Booster Gold isn't a bad person, he is really annoying and can get under Bruce's skin instantly. Seemingly while being completely unaware of it.

Damian's habitual scowl deepens as he mentions the name of the man that time traveled. He doesn't know why this reject from the future is interested in Tom, but he doesn't see any angle that could be good.

Steph rolls her eyes. “Well, maybe if we throw food at him for every inappropriate comment or infuriating hint about the future that he'll never expand on despite being the biggest hypocrite in the known universe then he'll just sit there and be quiet.”

Alfred gives her a stern look and she winces. “I was just kidding, Alfred.”

He sighs, giving a look around the table where every single one of them, upon hearing the suggestion had secreted on their person somewhere a projectile. “I am well aware. However, as I am hoping to have dinner ready on time this evening, I would ask that you put what you've all taken back onto the table.” He nods once they have done so, shamefacedly removing the projectiles they had palmed and placed in pockets or on laps, and walks towards the kitchen. Though he does call out over his shoulder as he goes.

“I do not believe his behavior is going to be as abhorrent as you fear.” He pauses for a moment and without turning around, he speaks again from the doorway and the smile is plainly heard in his voice.

“Though I must say that if he does delve to the depths as you seem to think is likely I wouldn't stress it. Simply ask for it not to be repeated. Then when it is, don't interfere.”

>>

Upstairs, the man of steel briefly smirks while Diana looks darkly at Booster Gold. J'onzz's expression barely shifts, though one eyebrow raises just slightly.

Bruce can guess, and Booster is looking around with a cocksure smile trying to hide the fact that he is completely clueless.

Finally, the last fifteen minutes of ignoring the situation is beginning to bother Bruce.

“Booster,”

“Please, out of costume just call me Michael.” The beaming smile goes unnoticed.

There is a pause for just three seconds too long.

“Michael, then. Why are you here?”

He looks confused. “I thought it was an open invitation?” He looks around, suddenly very unsure of himself. He can be an ass, but he truly isn't a bad person, and the looks he's been getting for the last minute have him somewhere between confused and worried. “Would you rather I left? I wasn't intending to gate crash.”

Bruce closes his eyes and counts to ten. “Michael, I am asking the question because I assume there is a reason. I would like to know what that reason is.”

Sudden understanding floods the man. “Oh, yeah. Sorry, I should have said something. This Meta kid, he isn't in my records. Not everybody is, I mean records were lost all the time for hundreds of years. So when he first popped up I didn't think much of it. One fat meta in Gotham, that could have slipped by easily. But not after what he's done. The armored car? Two-Face? Those were both highly televised events that I have no record of whatsoever. Combine that with the fact that while I don't have this guy in my records, I do have a record of a guy with the same name who died in a crosswalk at the same time that this one was in the accident that gave him his abilities. I guess you could say I am here for part investigation, part curiosity. I don't mean the kid any harm or anything but it's a weird situation.”

Bruce looks thoughtful as Clark speaks. “According to your records, has this... Invalidated your knowledge of the future?”

The man shrugs. “For some things, yeah. But this isn't the first time that's happened anyway. My being here changes things constantly so hell, the fact that Tom is a meta instead of dead could be my fault somehow. As an example, Two-Face wasn't supposed to be back in Arkham for two more years and he was a major problem for another fifteen or so. But he had working extremities then. You know, more than one.”

The four other heroes look somewhat disgruntled for a moment, and then Bruce motions to the door. “They are assembled, let's go get this over with. Michael?”

“Yeah?”

“The two women in the dining room were very nearly killed last night. You will be on your best behavior.”

“Bruce, I am always on my best behavior.” The grin is wide, strong, and extra-sparkly.

Curiously, it isn't Bruce but rather the look that Diana gives him that immediately makes him backpedal.

“I'll be good.”

Clark manages to barely hold in the snicker.

He is the only one present that has such an issue.

>>

Things are curiously quiet when the League members enter the room. By some kind of unspoken team-building instinct, all the bat kids that have spent significant amounts of time around Tom are sitting in the center, on one side of the twenty-five-foot table. Damian is on the left side, next to Tim. Then Steph, and finally Cass. Bruce nods to them as he sits, finding it amusing that even within their own home, they are bracketed around their wounded man when in the presence of non-family, and while Clark and his family are, and Diana is as well...

J'onzz he doesn't think they would do this for. He's ridiculously powerful, but he is also known to them. Booster hasn't spent a lot of time around them and while they don't hate him, he isn't their favorite person. The instincts they trained for so hard are strong. It's good to see.

Once they are settled, Damian preempts things. “What do you want to know that wouldn't be better to ask him directly?”

The adults are simply blinking at the look on his face. For someone who is legitimately a child, he is looking fairly menacing just this second.

Clark tries first. He feels obligated because he is the one who pushed for this. “We in the League just feel that with the strength he can bring to bear and his willingness to work for the common good, he could be a great asset in crisis situations. We'd like to know something about his personality, how effective he really is, whether or not he'd even be willing, that kind of thing.” At the disgruntled looks he is getting from all four, his face falls. “Is he unsuitable?”

Steph rolls her eyes. “No, he's great and he'd for sure do it. He risked his life last night pulling Cass and me out of the bay, and he's darn near impossible to hurt. It's just...”

Tim sets down his glass of juice. “Tom is in a bad spot right now. He needs resources, time, and money. Not to get hauled all over the place solving other people's problems. If you ask him, he'll do it. Because he's a decent human being and he cares. But if you ask him while he's still living in a tent in a scrapyard with dead parents, a jacked-up high school career, a bullseye on him from half the villains in Gotham, and still no actual training to do the work?”

Cass slaps the table and waves her hand in a 'cut-off' gesture.

Damian just glares. It's super effective.

Clark just stares for a moment, his eyes half closed as if in pain. He isn't sure what he was expecting, but not this. “I'm sorry. I didn't know his situation was so dire.”

Stephanie sighs and speaks again. “It kinda hit us close to home when he risked his life and fought off Croc under forty or so feet of water to pull us out from under a demolished building. Then we came back here and he went to a tent that forces him to use a bucket and sponge to get all the salt off his body. He doesn't deserve the crap he's getting and it sucks.”

Diana takes the moment of silence as an opportunity. “He sounds like a good man. Worthy of you to look out for him like this.”

J'onzz hasn't said much to this point, but the normal-looking man with brown hair, white skin, and a business suit could be anybody. His normal skin tone is bright green. But not the best plan when meeting co-workers out of costume, so engaging his shape-shifting ability became important today.

“Would he accept an invitation to the watchtower for purposes of testing his abilities?”

Clark heads off the ugly looks by interjecting. “There would be no obligations. We aren't trying to draft your friend, I promise.”

Booster decides that if he is going to be here and be silent, he shouldn't have bothered at all. His eyes twitch to Bruce for a second, then he takes the plunge.

“So, I imagine you are curious why I am here?”

Three voices respond in monotone unison. “Yes.”

Cass simply nods.

Booster Gold looks a bit taken aback, but smiles and forges on gamely. “See, anytime my records from the future are off, it makes me curious. Did he say anything about how he got his abilities? Because the records I have show he was killed in the accident that gave him all this. Badly. Street pizza badly.”

The four exchange a look, then shrug as one. Damian is the one who speaks. “He said he had a strange dream that hinted at it the night before, but he isn't even sure if it was real or if his mind made it up after the fact.”

Booster looks confused. It isn't that unusual. “So, a Captain Marvel kind of thing then? I suppose that could do it. Outside interference that became possible because I changed something? Or maybe there was another time traveler and it's messing with my records?” His voice peters out as he considers the possibilities.

Diana sighs and addresses Damian directly. “I know he is your friend, and your protectiveness of him speaks well of you. But do you truly believe that you need to defend him from us?”

Damian groans and looks at the ceiling in exasperation. “Yes. Because you don't get it. He's untrained, new to everything, and has so many problems at present that dumping anything more on him would be beyond cruel. But I know him, and if you ask he'll go. He'll drop everything, fail out of school, starve, and probably come out behind when he has to use his meager resources to rebuild his gear. Again, it all got shredded at the gala. He doesn't have the support or resources to do it, and trying will just set him back years. If you want his help, it needs to be a two-way street. Otherwise, you're just taking advantage of a high school senior for his genetics and the fact he's too nice and poor to say no.”

At that, Damian gives a withering glare to the table and gets up to stalk off. Followed by the other three, Tim getting a bit of assistance from Cass.

Clark is looking crushed, and Booster is annoyed that he can't learn more. Diana has a contemplative expression, and J'onzz is already standing to depart. He'll ask about testing again another time, it seems that emotions are high right now.

Bruce has the most proud father look on his face that has ever been conceived of by modern man. It lasts about a half a millisecond.

Fortunately, there were no witnesses.

>>

They meet up at the mall in civilian gear, and there is much laughter when he is attacked on arrival.

Lian leaps on Jason with wild abandon and a gleeful screech while Roy laughs and they all make their way to the food court where they order and then poke around for a spot to chat that is a bit off the beaten path. They find it at a table that has been placed underneath the stairs to the second floor. Jason sets down his tray and removes the hungry child from his shoulders.

“What's up, Roy? I have no issues saying hi, but you caught me off guard with your tone this morning. Plus the fact we had to meet.”

Roy sighs and runs his hand down his face. “Okay, well, you know where Lian came from, right?”

Jason rolls his eyes. “I take it this has to do with mama?”

Roy nods. “Yeah. She called last night to talk to Lian for a while, so after we'd chatted a bit I passed off the phone. She spent an hour talking about Tom.” The red-headed man lets out a sigh that is somewhere between a groan and an expletive. "Then she spoke to me again and told me she was going to check out this boy who saved her daughter. So, I have absolutely no idea how to pass that along without giving away everything and while I'd like to think she wouldn't tap my phone or bug the house, I thought meeting here might be better. Help a brother out?”

Jason is now the one that is running his hand down his face. “Fuck.”

Instantly, a small metal canister that has a screw-top lid and a slit in the top slams down on the table.
Well, slam might be overselling it. It 'rattled with feeling' on the table. Lian is holding it and has a very perturbed expression on her face.

There is a piece of paper on the side of the canister. Taped there securely.

'Swear Jar.'