"You can't keep pulling these kinds of stunts, Batman. You're gonna get yourself killed. You're not . . ."
". . . Superman," Batman said to the Man of Steel. Superman sighed.
"That's not what I was going to say. I just . . . I just worry about you."
"Why don't you worry about someone who needs it," Batman said. He
moved to leave, but a sudden pain in his side stopped him. Not being prepared for the pain he did not do a good job of hiding it, which would have been his strategy.
"You see, you're hurt. I'm taking you to the infirmary."
Normally Batman would have protested and taken himself back to the Batcave to heal, but Superman had already scooped the Dark Knight up in his arms and was flying slowly down the hall so as not to disrupt Batman's injuries.
Upon examination, it was discovered that Batman had two broken ribs. Considering what he had gone through it was relatively good news. Superman and Wonder Woman scolded him for being so reckless with his health, but Batman ignored them. It was bad enough he would here the same argument from Alfred when he saw him. His colleagues left him to rest in the infirmary, but after a few moments (moments taken to make sure Superman, Wonder Woman, J'onn, and anyone else who would have insisted that he get back into bed were gone) Batman decided to go do some computer work, after all, that wouldn't bother his ribs. When Batman opened the door, there was Superman floating in the doorway, blocking his path.
"I knew you wouldn't stay resting," said Superman.
"I'm only going to do some work at the computer," said Batman, hating that he felt the need to justify himself. Superman floated back to the ground.
"You shouldn't even be standing Bruce, let alone working."
"I know how to take care of myself, thank you. I've had broken ribs before."
"Which is exactly why you need to rest and not re-injure them." Batman glared while he thought of his options. Superman didn't appear to be going anywhere and Batman couldn't physically move him. His only option was to talk Superman into leaving him alone, but at the moment that option seemed about as fruitful as trying to physically move him. Superman softened his tone and continued speaking. "Batman, please get back into bed."
"Fine," Batman said. He turned and unhappily climbed into the bed. Superman would have liked if Batman had eaten something, but he recognized his victory and didn't want to push Batman any further.
"Good night, Bruce," said Superman, but Batman did not answer. Superman silently left the room and waited around outside the door, to make sure Batman stayed in bed. Batman, however, was too smart to do the same thing twice. He lied in his bed and silently fumed. Batman hated not being in control of a situation and he especially hated resting, especially when he knew he was fine. He wasn't one hundred percent, but that had never stopped him before. And then there were the others, especially Superman. They were always, concerned about his health. Batman never did anything they wouldn't do; it was just that Batman didn't have super strength, super speed, a power ring, telepathy, shape-shifting ability, or the ability to fly. He was just working on what God gave him. Yet, he felt like he was being treated like a child or an invalid. He wasn't as physically powerful as the other Justice League members, but he had proven over and over he could hold his own. Why did the others expect him to ask for their help, every time he was in a dangerous situation? He knew how to handle himself, and anyone else that came along. Batman drifted to sleep having very unkind thoughts about his co-workers.