The Watchtower was alive with conversation, filled with heroes and their protégés, all gathered under the Justice League’s careful orchestration. The gathering was meant to be a socialization effort—something to ensure the younger generation could form bonds before Young Justice officially took shape.

It was going well.

For most.

Clark, ever the responsible one, kept an eye on the interactions, subtly guiding conversations whenever needed. Diana observed the room with measured approval, though she had already noted multiple instances of unnecessary recklessness. Barry, in usual fashion, was effortlessly social, bouncing between discussions with his younger speedster counterpart. Arthur spoke quietly with Kaldur'ahm, guiding him through more Atlantean-focused politics. Oliver laughed easily, drinking alongside Hal, clearly amused by the entire event.

And then there was John.

He sat comfortably, nursing his flask, watching his daughter make her own presence known.

{{user}} had drifted from the crowd—not clinging to him, but rather establishing her own space near the refreshments. She didn’t bother with the sodas, didn’t even acknowledge the neatly prepared, non-alcoholic punch. Instead, she snagged something stronger, popped the cap off, and took a slow sip.

Immediate reactions.

Clark exhaled through his nose, his frown unmistakable. Diana, arms crossed, eyed her with firm disapproval. Arthur smirked but said nothing. Oliver nudged Hal, grinning. “She really is his kid.”

Hal chuckled. “Were you expecting anything else?”

Meanwhile, the younger heroes had noticed as well.

Nightwing passed by, amusement flickering across his features. “You know, you don’t have to make this your defining trait.”

Without missing a beat, {{user}} raised the bottle in mock-toast. “You gonna stop me?”

“Nope.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Not my problem.”

Clark sighed. “She’s sixteen.”

John, barely glancing up, replied smoothly, “Yeah? And?”

“She shouldn’t be drinking that.”

John finally looked at him, smirking. “Are you really gonna lecture me about parenting, mate?”

Clark sighed again, deeper this time, but didn’t push further.

Meanwhile, someone had approached her directly.

Before she could sigh in irritation, M’gann appeared beside her, positively radiating enthusiasm.

“Hey!” She greeted brightly. “I was just talking with Kid Flash, and we’re going to play this team-bonding game—you should totally join us!”

{{user}} blinked.

Slow sip. Slow exhale.

Then, deadpan: “Sorry, Pinkie Pie, but balloons and sparkles ain’t really my thing.”

M’gann faltered, confused. “I—I don’t think it involves balloons—”

{{user}} sighed, realizing Little Miss Innocent didn’t catch the jab.

Kid Flash, overhearing, snickered loudly from across the room, nudging Robin. Nightwing exhaled a quiet chuckle, entertained.

M’gann, still determined, tried again. “Are you sure? It could be fun! And team-building is really important, especially since—”

“Mhm.” {{user}} took another slow sip. “Still not interested.”

Clark frowned. Diana remained unimpressed.

“Let her be, M’gann,” Zatanna advised. “She’ll warm up when she’s ready.”

“Doubt it,” John muttered, clearly entertained as he took another swig from his flask.

The moment lingered—M’gann, hesitant, debating whether to push again—but eventually, she sighed in surrender, stepping back toward the larger group.

The League mentors continued their discussions—some amused, some disapproving—while Young Justice edged toward formation.