Children in the Tower was a sight that grew less jarring by the day. Bruce had his own, growing brood to contend with, not to mention the other supers and their ability to pick kids up from seemingly every corner of the world to dress them in suits parade them around. They all had differing opinions on them, sidekicks or not, but Bruce had always had a good grasp on who was who even though it felt like the League brought in someone new and bright-eyed every other day.
But there was a girl in green with the Corps symbol resting over her heart and Bruce, for the life of him, could not look away.
She couldn't be Jordan's. He'd know (or he'd hoped he'd know when that inevitable clusterfuck happened) but it was all so bewildering that it left him stumped for a good two minutes. Two minutes of staring was something he would ordinarily never catch himself doing, though he couldn't look away. She seemed so ordinary too, perched on a lone bench with a tablet in her lap that she was mindlessly tapping on.
The Green Lantern Corps didn't do children. Their members were all mostly over the age of majority in their various cultures unless Hal declined to inform Bruce of a spectacular rule change that occurred overnight. Though, Bruce thought as his eyes locked onto the monstrosity upon her arm, there was a chance that this girl had slipped through the cracks somehow.
It sat there like something sleeping. She looked all-together too small to lift it, let alone wield it. What it was remained a mystery: it was dark emerald metal, bulky where it covered skin and it hummed a droning song he could listen to from where he was, ten feet away.
When the girl turned, finally aware of his presence, a flinch travelled up her shoulders. Her face was as slight as the rest of her but the glint in her eye was unmistakably Lantern in nature. Bruce stood taller.
"Who are you?" he creaked out.
"I'm not supposed to talk to strangers," she replied with an accented voice. She didn't look away but shifted backwards. Alarm was etched into every muscle in her body; she was posed to bolt if Bruce wasn't careful.
"I'm not a stranger and you're on my ship. Who are you?"
The weapon on her arm crackled and the air itself shifted as if to make room for its energy. It was a living thing, he realised, or something close to it. Bruce regarded it warily and edged closer an almost invisible step. His hands stayed out, peaceful, ready to twitch towards his belt at the slightest sign of trouble.
Clenching her jaw, the girl edged back even further, slipping off her seat and backing towards the hallway. Bruce followed her. If he didn't know any better, he would say that she was about to attack: her stiff little steps were less defensive and more like she was getting herself into the prime position to pounce.
"I just need to know who you are and where you came from."
Frustratingly, all he got back was a sharp, "I'm a Green Lantern."
"Then where," Bruce asked, "is your ring?"
She paused there. Her eyes flicked down to the machinery on her arm in uncertainty which allowed Bruce to move soundlessly and close the gap between them. She didn't see it coming and practically stumbled in her haste to get away, though her shoulders only met the wall with a little thump that betrayed her panic. "Don't touch me," she warned when his hands splayed out. The air crackled around them, hot all of a sudden with the light Bruce would never truly get used to.
"Don't touch me," she snapped louder and it was clear she was truly panicking now, listing to the side as if she could slip free of this interaction entirely. "Don't–"
An involuntary shudder worked its way up Bruce's spine. The tone of voice carried an unmistakable air of malice, something much older and deeper than simple anger and it was enough to make Bruce freeze momentarily because he so rarely heard it directed at him.
"Stewart," Bruce responded without turning around. Somehow, he knew what he'd see anyway and it was enough to keep his gaze fixed to the wall.
He hesitated and only acquiesced when the heat at his back grew the longer he stayed stationary. He backed up until he passed Stewart, who regarded him with that eerie, emerald stare, so far removed from his original eye colour that it turned him into something eldritch. Stewart barely looked at him. Stewart's eyes were on the girl.
"You alright?" he asked, softer now.
She gave a tiny nod and peeled herself off the wall to edge away, until she was safely in the hall. Another pair of bright eyes joined them from its depths and the girl hurried away to duck behind the figure that emerged, the ghost of a grin on her lips aimed directly, unflinchingly at Bruce.
"There a reason you're going around intimidating kids, Spooky?" Hal asked. The nickname sounded anything but harmless now.
"I wasn't informed of this development," Bruce made himself say.
Hal scoffed so loudly that it echoed. "Well shit Bruce, I didn't know I needed your permission to wipe my damn ass."
"You don't have the right to demand answers from anyone." Stewart continued in a tone so quiet that it was a threat on its own. "Especially not one of ours."
"She's unauthorised," slipped from Bruce's mouth before he could stop it and Stewart's face twisted so quickly that he truly believed he'd lunge forward for a split second.
Hal took three strides forward like he meant to physically get between them, stopping short only to join Stewart in boxing him in. "Say that again."
Bruce didn't. "You never logged her existence."
"With all the damn secrets you keep, Brucie, I thought you wouldn't mind." Hal tilted his head like a dog might, the look on his face anything but friendly. "John and I lost count of your Robins years ago."
He felt his hackles rise of his own accord and hissed, "Don't you dare–"
"Escalate," Stewart whispered. "I dare you." It was barely a sound and yet it stole the air between them.
Bruce wasn't sure where the switch had come from. They radiated sheer menace between them and they were unapologetic about it. The girl, now on the fringes of the interaction, looked on. She hadn't scuttled back far but the look on her face had softened into something like relief.
"Who is she, Stewart?" Bruce asked.
"For God's sake, Bruce," Hal snapped so sharply that he flinched. "I thought we were past this! You don't get to walk around all high and mighty snooping into our shit like you're entitled to it."
"If it concerns the League–"
"It doesn't," Stewart cut in.
Bruce turned his incredulous stare to him then. "You're lying to me. What are you hiding?"
Hal barked out a harsh laugh. It grated and the energy behind his eyes flared to a searing point, a singularity. "Stop pretending like this has anything to do with security."
"Everything is a matter of security when it concerns you, Jordan," Bruce sneered. The cocktail of emotion that fled across Hal's face was vivid and extreme and it didn't take him long to settle on wrath. Bruce tilted his head up and didn't back down. "Who is she? What did you d–"
"My name is Keli," said a quiet voice.
All three of their heads snapped in the girl's direction. She stood straighter in their presence, staring directly at Bruce. "My name is Keli," she repeated, "and I'm a Lantern."
Bruce's attention fixed itself onto John. "Where's she from?" he growled. The ugly thing between them twisted and writhed and begged to be set free. He saw it in muscle fluttering in Stewart's jaw, the clench of Hal's fists and his own heart thudding rapidly. "What the hell did you do?"
In hindsight, Bruce would recognise his mistake to be the moment he took a long stride forward towards the girl, Keli. In the next second, he was pinned against the wall by both construct and a grip of titanium, Hal's face inches from his.
"Don't," he snarled. The glow was unbearable this close, and would've seared his retinas beyond repair had he not been wearing his cowl. "Not another step."
"Hal," Stewart called, making no attempt to extricate him. "Don't kill him."
The construct was one in the form of a belt shoved across his chest. Hard light crushed Bruce's ribs, squeezed his diaphragm. Hal's forearm dug into his jugular as if to rub salt into the wound. For a moment, everything stood suspended.
Then, as quickly as it started, Bruce was let go and Hal was suddenly five paces away. His face twitched with the breadth of the smugness he was trying to hide, though Bruce was too busy remembering how to breathe to comment.
"Stop bothering us," Hal finished flatly. "You've stirred up enough shit with us already. We work with you because we're on the same side but we're not about to tolerate whatever claim you think you have over our lives."
"Have a nice rest of your day, Bruce," Stewart said almost pleasantly. To that, Bruce couldn't muster up a word, though the final insult to injury came five seconds later, as Keli slipped in between the two men to walk with him.
She threw a glance over her shoulder and raised her gauntlet. Bruce flinched before he could stop himself but the girl only summoned a construct hand that waved demurely at him. Then, she grinned and turned her eyes forward, skipping the rest of the way.