The Youngest Crock Sister

A livingroom meeting

Gotham|
August 6th 1:08 EDT

A few days passed, and once again I was alone with Mom in the house. I'm sick with a low-grade fever, and miner full body trimmers. It's really just allergies acting up but I don't think my body can tell the difference. Artemis was out doing vigilante stuff as it was Friday afternoon, and crime had been rising as school was about to start up again. And mom is doing whatever it is that she does all day. She needs a hobby.

I'm currently eating lunch. Wich Because it was left up to me, is boxed mac n cheese, with a week's worth of homemade apple cobbler. Not the best thing to be eating when one is 'sick', quotation marks needed, but oh well.

I wasn't even halfway done with my mac n cheese when a knock could be heard from the front door.

"I got it." I walked over cautiously avoiding the clouded windows of the doorframe. Peering through the peephole I could see none other than Batman And Green Arrow standing on our doorsteps. I opened the door looking a little contagious with my pale skin red nose and bloodshot eyes but I faced the two men anyway, as I know at least Batman knows that I'm not.  The Archer was going to start saying something, but I beat him to it.

"Are you here for me, Mom, or Artemis?" I questioned my mentor staring him in the eye. This shocked the other hero as he was just standing there with his mouth open. But with my headache growing I no longer have the energy to care.

"Your Mother. Just to talk." I nod in understanding. I turn a bit to direct my voice into the house. "Mom! Some badly dressed men are here to talk to you!" I can feel Bruce's eyes boring into the back of my head at the commit. I face back toward the two waiting for my mother to make her way to the front. Which could take a bit as she needs to put herself into the wheelchair first.

"I'm going to be talking to your mother about your sister, do I have your permission to bring up your nightlife as well?" Batman asked. His companion is still standing there looking back and forth between the two of us obviously confused by our actions.

"If I say no will that stop you from telling?" I questioned. If he is bringing it up then he has already made up his mind. And after the conversation I had with Mom the other day I don't mind as much about what he will tell her.

"No." He stated plainly. As he spoke Mom rolled into the entryway.

"Am I in trouble?" Her voice is clear and unwavering. Green Arrow cleared his throat, snapping out of the trance he was in. "Not at all, Mrs. Crock. We are here to talk to you about your daughter's nightlife." My mom shot me a glare before inviting them in.

As they stood in our living room with Mom, and me, I decided it was time for me to leave. "I'm going to leave. This seems like an adult-ie conversation. If you need me I'll be on my phone in the bedroom." I left and put on headphones to block out any of the noise coming from down the hall so that I could have possible deniability.

About an hour later I got a text from my mother telling me to return to the living room.

I entered to see that at some point the heroes had sat down on the couch that clearly wasn't made to accommodate all of their gadgets. "Care to explain." My mother's voice was calm, not in a reassuring way though.

"I have the right to not incriminate myself. I request  for the accusation which you would like me to address." The ability to know and use my rights as an American citizen was really the only good thing my father taught me.

"The late-night training with Batman." Her arms were crossed. I could read her expression and see that she was more worried the mad. Which felt kinda weird.

"Oh, that. I met Batman a year ago. In preparing for Sportsmaster's return from a two-day mission, I was doing some training on my own. Apparently, a twelve-year-old staying underwater for longer than two minutes was concerning enough to catch the attention of our local hero. Similar encounters occurred over that month. Eventually, he just offered to train me himself, as "It's dangerous for a child of your size to be training without supervision"." I did a purposely offal impersonation of B's Batman voice. "So for the last eleven months, three times a week I've been training under the supervision and guidance of Batman." My mother was listening to every word I said very closely.

"You have been training with him, while still under the training of your father?" The fear in her voice became clearer.

"Yes. But the training done with Batman has been, to put into the simplest of terms, less abusive. It's never been for an extended period of time. The intensity only increases when I'm able to do the current level flawlessly. And I'm forced to take my breathing and immune system into consideration, which has been super annoying." As I spoke the fear subsided behind her eyes.

"I see. Well if you are being self-aware, I see no reason why you can't continue. Batman has informed me though that you have not figured out what you are going to use your skills for, or at all." My mother gave me the most mom glare I have ever seen on her before. It was up there with the parent glares from Batman. "If I find out that you are using the abilities this man has taught you for evil, I will hunt you down myself. Do I make myself clear?"

I flash my learned Dick Grayson signature smile. "I certainly hope you do."

The heroes weren't here for much longer before they said their farewells and departed. The rest of the day afterward went by dreadfully slow. My sister returned at around 4. Dinner went smoothly. And after that, I washed up and got ready to go to training.

I was about to climb out the window when I saw Artemis sitting on her bed reading the tale of two cities, again.

I take as deep of a breath as I can. "Umm, Artemis?" She hummed to let me know she was listening. "So I've been sneaking off to train for a year now, and I should have told you a long time ago, but I think you should know I'm not training by myself." I blurted fairly fast trying to get it all out.

"I kind of figured. Does this mean you're going to tell me with whom?" She asked. I'm already cringing at the answer I'm going to give.

"Batman?" It came out more as a question than an answer.

She put her book down and stared at me.

"Are you serious?"

I nod hesitantly.

"Why didn't you tell me!" She was standing now. She gazed down upon me. "I started when Dad was still training us. We met when I was practicing holding my breath down at the harbor one night. He told me that he can't let me continue doing things like that unsupervised, sooo."

"That doesn't explain why you didn't tell me! I'm your older sister! At no point did you think tp tell me that you were training with The Batman!" She is now yelling.

"I didn't want you to be held liable if Dad found out. And after he left I wasn't sure where mom stood. I really did want to tell you. I was just scared. Scared that they would find out. Scared that you would hate me." The last part came out as a whisper.

Her glare softens ever so slightly. She sits back on her bed, picking back up her book. "You stay here talking and you're going to be late. No one keeps the Dark Knight waiting." She said bitterly and effectively ended the conversation. So off I went to train with my mentor.