-Red Tornado is the best den mother. He may not understand children, but goddamn if he doesn't try-

"Red?" Red Tornado turned and observed Superboy: head down, shoulder's hunched. Red noticed this was the same posture he took on whenever he'd broken something and expected a scolding. "I... I need you to do something."

"Superboy, what's the matter?"

"I need you to hide something for me."

Red watched him with curiosity and suspicion. "What is it?"

Superboy shifted on his feet. "I have this thing. I keep it in my backpack, and I sleep with it. Sometimes..."

"Continue." Red prompted.

Superboy's mouth hung open. He turned and fled the room. Red didn't chase, Superboy would return when he was ready.

And indeed he did, half an hour later. "Red!" He hurried into the room, thrusting a fist at the android. "You can't tell. Hide it until tonight."

Red held out his hand and Superboy placed an eight inch, plastic, Superman doll on it. "Why do you want me to hide it, Superboy?"

"It's a secret, you can't tell anyone!" With that, he left, refusing to answer any questions.

Tornado thought it was strange, but it got much stranger when Ms. martian approached with a similar credence.

"Hey Red..." She shuffled her feet. "so, uh. So on mars we have really big families."

"I have heard that, Ms. Martian."

"So, with only a couple parents, they can't raise everyone at once. I was a middle-younger child, so as soon as I was out in the world I was mostly left alone." They rambled on, without aim. "We have these things that are supposed to help raise large martian families... they just sound like a heartbeat, and they're warm, and they can keep martian children out of the way and calm for hours..."

"Is there a purpose to you sharing this with me?" Red asked. "Or do you simply want to talk? I will adjust my responses accordingly."

"Well, It's kinda silly..." They admitted, cheeks turning two or three Hexadecimal codes darker. "You see, I brought mine with me when I came to earth. Incase I got homesick, you know? Well, With everyone sleeping together tonight..." She wriggled in place, looking away. "They just wouldn't understand it. Is it okay if you hold on to it for me until later?"

Tornado wondered if this is why Superboy had handed over his doll, but having promised secrecy, it was maintained. It fact; "Would you like me to keep this transaction a secret?"

"Yes please." She smiled and enveloped his metal casing in a hug. "Thanks Red. You're the best." 

Red Tornado took the small, glowing, pod, and placed in into the same Armory bag as Superboy's doll. 

Red Tornado was unsure what the fixation on these objects. If the young heroes were so attached to these items, why would they want to hide them so badly? Usually, if children showed fixation on an object, they were proud of it, and wouldn't hesitate to explain to anyone who asked. 

Things only escalated is strangeness as Robin arrived, two hours early, holding something behind his back. He revealed a worn, plush toy, sewn in the shape of an elephant. He squeezed it one last time and passed it over. "You need to keep him safe for me."

"Robin, may I ask why?" 

"I just-- I can't sleep without him, had him since I was a little kid. he--" Robin hastily corrected. "I mean, it's my stuffie-- Stuffed animal, I mean."

The boy coughed, uncomfortably, and in a second he'd vanished from sight; foot falls echoing down the passageway.

Aqualad had a small carving (from what looked like a polymetallic deposit) that he claimed resembled his mother; a gift to keep him company when he started his mandatory military service at age twelve. 

"It's always been of great Solace to me..." He murmured, face averted. "I suppose I'd label it as a comfort item."

That intrigued Red Tornado. a comfort item. That was another one of those phrases that was unfamiliar, lacking in his information centers. Connecting to the internet, he searched 'comfort item, definition'. The first answer that he found read:
'A comfort object, transitional object, or security blanket is an item used to provide psychological comfort, especially in unusual or unique situations, or at bedtime for children. Among toddlers, comfort objects may take the form of a blanket, a stuffed animal, or a favorite toy, and may be referred to by nicknames.'

Following what Red Tornado knew about childhood PTSD and emotional development, and from what he'd just read, this seemed like a clear cut example of what a comfort item is. 

Though this didn't fully explain a martian heartbeat pod, the description seemed to generally fit. This also furthered the hypothesis that the team were children who simply preferred to be referred to as young adults. He would keep that in mind for further investigation.

"I will keep it safe and out of harms way." Red promised. He placed the small, cherished doll in the same bag as the others, and told Aqualad that he would keep it safe and secret.

The trend continued with Artemis, presenting a plush toy, similar to Robin's, but apparently in the shape of a brown bear (dressed in a human-like blue dress and apron). "If anyone knew-- Not the team, NOT the league!" She snapped.

"Artemis, may I ask why dependency on Comfort items must be a secret?"

"Seriously? C'mon, if the league knew I need a teddy bear to sleep, they'd think I'm some sort of baby who needs her security blanket!"

"A security blanket is a synonym for a comfort item."

"IT'S NOT-- It's not the same!" She huffed. "It's a secret!" She thrust the toy at him and stormed out. "No one can see her!"

Red Tornado handled the toy delicately, tucking it away with the others. Artemis' statements had given him a missing link: Why did they want to hide these comfort objects that they adored to much? Because they were ashamed. Why were they ashamed of needing comfort? Well, Red wasn't sure; if he needed something to maintain his physical form, he wouldn't feel any embarrassment in perusing it. 

Then again, the team was being raised under their mentors: mentors who set an expectation for how they should behave. That theory still didn't help much, for all the team knew, their mentors might have comfort objects ass well, and also be keeping them secret.

Humans never cease to confuse him.

This sentiment of embarrassment was echoed by Kid Flash. "I'm a nerd as is, I get it, but I draw the line here!" He glanced around nervously. "Mr. Superhearing isn't here, is he?" He showed Red what seemed to be a simple brimmed cap. "Everyone thinks it's so pathetic I'm such a flash fanboy as is..."

"Is it not acceptable for you to have interests, Kid Flash?"

"I... my aunt got it for me when I was little, when we were at the zoo.... And I got to meet the Flash and had him sign it..." He let out a breath and furled up his face. "Wore it every day, but not in public after I found out who Flash was. I like to bring it with me, good memories, but... I don't know, the other's don't get it. you don't get it! Just..." He offered it to Red "Under the table, huh?"

"You have my absolute discretion."

"Chill. Thanks. Sorry that got soo...." Kid Flash wrung his hands without purpose. "Thanks."

"Of course, Kid Flash. Is there anything else you require?"

"no."

"Then, may I ask you a question?"

"Uh..." The boy fidgeted, but didn't make any attempt to leave. "Yeah, shoot."

"Why do young adults such as yourself find such shame in needing comfort?"

He was silent for a long time. "I, I guess it's a transitional thing. Y'know?" He shuffled him feet. "Little kids always need a blankie or a pacifier, and adults don't need anything for comfort! Now I'm mostly adult, but sometimes.. y'know... It's nice to still have it. as an option."

"How do you know that adults don't need anything for comfort?"

"I-- I just do! You never  see adults carrying around teddy bears or anything!" He justified. "Adults are the oppisite of children: they've grown out of needing those things. they have adult techniques or whatever."

"How can you be certain?"

"I dunno! I just am!" Kid Flash muttered. "I'm basically an adult myself."

The team was crowded around Batman, receiving boxes to form their identities for a week undercover. 

"Welp, sleepover game!" Robin announced. "lets all do the name game with our characters."

"Brandon Fields, I'm Irish and I'm from Iowa"  Kid flash announced, reading through his profile. "Seriously? Iowa? The only valid I-state is ILLINOIS! That's the one I'm from! Also, did they have to give me the MOST Irish name?"

"Mine is Jenny Diane Huynh!" Artemis exclaimed, lowering the ID with an unimpressed look. "Did they just google 'Viet-American names' and copy-paste ALL of them?"

"Penny Roswell: My family immigrated to the states at the start of 'the cold war'." M'gann frowned. "What's a cold war?" 1)

"A war in the winter, duh!" Wally nudged her playfully. "What about you guys?"

Conner frowned at his card. "Adam Delacey." He read over the card. "That sounds familiar.... I'm of Swiss, French, and German decent."2)

"Jackson Hyde" Kaldur shrugged.3)

"Looks like Kaldur is the only one who didn't get an ethnically-focused name." Robin sighed. "I'm Logan Zigeuner. I really think they did just google ethnic last names and then name The Aliens after characters" 

"EWW! Look at my ID photo!"

"Aw man! I'm supposed to be an aspiring Journalist!"

"You have the night to familiarize yourself with your new identities. you leave in the morning." Batman instructed. "We will be preparing your tools and weapons until eleven."

Bruce picked up a discarded duffle bag from the side of the room. It had the standard embroidered number in the corner, like all the mission package from three or four years ago, before the redesign. He had no clue what it was doing out of storage. Maybe Dick had taken it out to use for himself, or perhaps one of the two living in the Mountain had stumbled upon it and decided to put it to use. 

Either way, it needed to be exchanged for a different bag before they left, many of the league's enemies would recognize the design. Lifting the bag, he returned to the atrium.

"Who's bag is this?" Six heads, some in the process of having their hair plaited, turned to face him. No claims, no recognition in their eyes. "It was in the Armory." He elaborated. Still, no own moved, say to shrug their shoulders or scrape the inner corner of their eye. "Does nobody claim it?" A murmur of 'no's and 'not mine's filled the room, the children looking around in skepticism; as if they thought this was another test. 

"It's an old bag design, don't we just use those for storage?" Dick asked.

Bruce noted Dick said 'we', when his ward wasn't even supposed to know that. "If no one claims this, we'll have to figure out who's it is." And with that, he unzipped the bag, emptying it onto the table.

There were a few milliseconds of movement as the team sat up, craning their necks from the floor to regard the bag's mysterious contents.

Hearing the room go silent, still, Bruce looked up to see the  children frozen, eyes locked on the table. He followed their eyes to the pile of junk. Toys? No, there were objects in there he couldn't identify. Of alien origin? He made to cautiously touch a white, domed object.

"NO!" 

Batman hesitated, eyes flashing up to see the Martian shoot several feet into the air, throwing her arms forwards to stop him.

"This is yours?"

"Yes-- no? don't!" They stammered, blanching, pulling the pod across the room into her chest.  "This one!" She hugged it as tight as she could, staring him down with a quivering jaw and wet eyes.

Daring to loot down at the rest of the 'junk' on the table: an old cap, a chipped (carved?) stone, a doll, a stuffed bear in a dress, and... Zitka. Dick would never dare to lose him.

Looking around at the fear-stricken, mortified, faces of the team things slowly clicked into place. As alien as the concept seemed to Bruce, many children used safety blankets to sooth themselves. But weren't these children too old for that sort of thing? Bruce couldn't remember needing anything of the sort since infancy. and look who's fighting clowns and penguins in a leather bat-suit, a voice that sounded reminiscent of Alfred commented.

He held the worn elephant gingerly. Dick could function day-to-day, he just needed to have Zitka to bring him back to comfort and safety. A pediatric psychiatrist had said it was helping him through his trauma. 

Would it be so hard to believe these other kids had the same issue?

"Batman."  He snapped out of his distraction, acknowledging the android. "That bag was not assembled for the upcoming week, it is merely temporary storage for the night." Tornado stopped beside him, calmly repacking the bag.

"Red Tornado. What do you now about this?" 

"I'm sorry, Batman. I am sworn to secrecy." He gently took the pod from Ms. Martian's grasp, tucking it in the bag. He held out a hand to take the Elephant from him. Bruce placed Zitka inside himself, not trusting anyone else to hold something so dear to his charge. 
The android turned to the team. "I will keep this bag's contents on my person unless someone comes to collect them." 

And with that, he exited, leaving Bruce and the half-dozen teenagers: all seven too mortified to look at each other.

Footnotes:

1)Penny is the name of a character from the 1960s show "Lost in Space". Roswell is in reference to a famous UFO crash site that was blamed on cold-war military tech

2) Adam is a reference to a line said by Frankenstein's creation "I ought to be thy Adam...". Delacey is the name of the first humans the creation emotionally connected to. The name is French, Victor Frankenstein is Swiss, and the Creature was made in Bavaria 

3)Jackson Hyde - the human name of Aqualad in the Darkest Night run