AN:
Thank you all for clicking on this short story I have created. I'm looking for this to be a three-part story, so this is just the first chapter. I hope you all enjoy it, and I apologize if the characters seem OOC. I just needed their personalities to fit in with my plot. :) With that said - happy reading!
Disclaimer: I do not own DC, therefore I do not own any of the characters mentioned here. I only own my thoughts.
Part I: Confrontations
The room was filled with a thick silence; seemingly unspoken words being yelled inside the walls. The members all sat around the long circled table, glaring daggers at either each other or any other item they could lay their eyes on. Superman looked at each of his friends – who had basically become his family – with narrowing eyes.
He stood from the head of the table, his imposing figure looming over the rest of the league. "I'm assuming you all know why I've called you today." He cleared his throat before continuing, "There are some certain issues that need to be addressed."
Before he could even get in another word, Flash abruptly stood up from his seat. "It was all Shay's fault!" He yelled, pointing an accusing finger at the Thanagarian.
"Flash, sit -"
"My fault?!" Hawkgirl followed the speedster's movements, pounding her fists on the table. "How is this my fault?!"
"Shayera, no one is blaming you." Clark tried to reason with her, but his words were nothing but empty speech.
"You weren't cooperating with us!" Flash retorted. As mutual support, he turned to one of his closest family members, "Right GL?"
John looked up from his entwined hands, his face paling. "Um… um…." He failed at words, not prepared to face a thundering Thanagarian.
"Exactly!" The speedster folded his arms, assuming his friend had properly backed him up.
"It's not my fault that Diana wasn't there to back me up!" Shayera hissed back, glaring at the Amazon.
Hearing her name among the outburst, Diana furrowed her eyebrows, her anger starting to bubble up. "Do not put this all on me." She said icily. "Blame Batman! He didn't let me return to the mission when Giganta injured me. It was a simple injury!"
"Two dislocated shoulders and a cracked rib is not a simple injury, Diana," Batman growled in return, though showing no other sign of emotion. "What more could you have done in battle?"
The Amazon rolled her eyes and sat back in her chair whilst folding her arms. "I certainly could have done more than Flash." It wasn't the nature of Diana to criticize or hurt others – but frankly, she was tired of the blame getting pinned on her. "All you like to do is try and seduce the female enemies!"
"I can't help it if it's my strong suit!" He defended himself, pouting. "GL, back me up here!"
"All of you guys just need to relax," John said in response, rolling his eyes.
"And don't you sit there acting all high and mighty!" Shayera hissed dangerously, her wings seemingly becoming larger as she leaned forward. "If you had shown up on time, we could have had the situation under control! This all your fault!"
"Well, I'm sorry if I do have a life outside of this Watchtower!"
Superman sighed deeply as he sat back in his chair. This isn't what he had in mind when he called for this last-minute meeting. And now as he looked at his teammates, it wasn't only their enraged expressions he could see; no, he knew there was something more to what was going on. Several times in a row they had suffered defeat by their enemies and it was clear they were lacking teamwork. He shook his head and sighed yet again as he tried to come up with different ways to solve their unspoken tension. However, he knew that now wasn't the time to act. They were too hot-headed, too stubborn, and too difficult to handle right now.
That's why he didn't even stop Shayera when she flew over the table, tackling John from his chair.
"Thank you for coming."
Superman adjusted the camera's view of the room until its film was clear. The small room came into focus – as well as the person sitting in the chair opposite of the camera. Wally slumped in the wooden chair, arms crossed over his chest.
"Supes, what's this about?" He asked, turning his attention from the camera to the Man of Steel.
Clark cleared his throat as he sat, notepad and pen in hand. "Now Wally, I wanted to ask you some questions -"
"I wasn't the one who ate the last of the Oreos, I swear!" He immediately defended, throwing his arms up in surrender.
With furrowed eyebrows, Clark fumbled on his words. "N-no… I… that's not why I called you here actually."
"Oh…" Wally trailed off, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "Let's pretend that the last twenty seconds of this conversation never happened, okay?"
The Man of Steel shrugged, throwing his hands in the air. "What conversation?"
"Superman, what am I doing here?"
"Thanks for coming Shay." Clark greeted brightly as the Thanagarian sat in the chair opposite of him. "I had a few questions I'd like to ask you."
"If you want to know about the monitor duty that was left open, I had nothing to do with it."
"No it's not -" He stopped midsentence when the words registered in his brain. "There was no one on monitor duty?!"
Shayera raised her hands in defense. "Look, it's not my fault. I was actually the one who took over."
Taking a few moments to clear his now frazzled mind, Clark stood absolutely quiet. This was becoming more complicated than expected, and he wasn't close to being down with these sessions. He could see the Thanagarian grow more concerned with each passing moment of silence.
"Clark..." She said quietly, leaning forward in her seat. "Can I go now?"
Plastering on a large smile on his face, he responded, "No. You'll be staying here for a while."
He noticed how his actions and words caused Shayera's heart rate to increase.
"Is everything okay, Supes?"
"Well… that depends on how this session goes." Clark answered as he stared at John. "I'm just going to ask you a few questions -"
"Well, if you're going to be answering questions, care to explain why all the food is running low even when we restock it?"
"What?"
"Every time I go to eat, there's a limited choice!"
Clark slumped in his seat, his lips compressing into a thin line. "Well… do you think you could eat less?"
John gave him a look of pure incredulity. "Are you being serious? Have you asked Wally that?"
"No," The Kryptonian sighed in defeat. "No, I haven't."
From the moment he walked in the room, Clark could tell he was upset. This was so unlike him that it was offsetting, causing him to almost reconsider questioning the Martian. But before Clark could dismiss him, he sat down.
"J'onn…" He smiled tightly, leaving his sentence hanging in mid-air. "How are you?"
"You know who ate the Oreos."
It wasn't a question. It was a statement. An observation. The Kryptonian was sure the Martian didn't even need to read his mind for the answer.
Clark fumbled with his pencil which caused him to start drawing aimlessly on his notepad. "W-what are you talking about?" He scoffed, shifting uncomfortably in his seat under the Martian's critical stare. "What Oreos?"
"You know of which Oreos I speak," J'onn answered in all seriousness. "Who ate the last of them, Superman?"
"What makes you think I know?"
"Your body language answers that question with clarity."
"Look J'onn, the reason I called you here -"
"Who took my Oreos?"
It was at that moment Clark realized he wasn't going to let this go anytime soon.
Clark was thankful for the familiar and kind looking face that sat opposite of him. Throughout this entire day, he was looking forward to talking to her the most. He knew that she was honest, trustworthy, and loyal – all attributes he needed for this to work.
"Diana," He sighed but still kept his smile. "It's good to see you."
"What's wrong, Kal?" Her eyes mirrored genuine concern as she leaned forward in her chair. "Is everything alright?"
Clark suddenly found himself extremely worn out. His posture slouched as his arms dropped to his sides. "No… not really." He murmured, his eyes fixated on the floor. "I just… I just wanted to ask you some questions. That's all."
He expected some sort of blurting of secrets he did not know of. He expected some sort of defensive position on her part. But he got none of that. Rather, her response was,
"Sure, go ahead."
He perked up at her words, an authentic smile spreading across his face. Although, he was certain that he looked more like someone who needed to be locked up in an asylum. The way Diana's face contorted slightly only confirmed it.
"Great!" He beamed. "Finally, I'm getting somewhere. Okay – I'm sure you've noticed that the team has been a bit… dysfunctional."
The Amazonian's next words were sharp and impassive. "Then I believe you need to talk to a certain Dark Night. Not. Me."
He was momentarily taken back by Diana's tone. Now he was positive something was definitely wrong with his teammates – with his family. "Um… care to clarify that?"
"Talk to Batman. Since he seems to know everything, maybe he can help you."
It was apparent by the way her arms crossed against her chest that she wasn't looking for a friendly conversation anymore. And despite wanting to reach the bottom of this situation, he was smarter than to aggravate an already agitated Amazonian warrior.
"Okay," He said weakly, averting her acute gaze. "I'll talk to him."
The room was filled with an unbearable silence – at least for him it was. He didn't know what to say; he knew had to frame his words carefully if this was going to go successfully. Still, that didn't solve the problem of his speech getting caught in his throat. He licked his lips once, twice, then a total of three times. His hand came up to his chin as he continued to stare at the man seated in front of him.
"What do you want, Kent?"
Clark shook his head feeling like an utter failure. "I actually have no idea anymore." The Dark Knight didn't say anything as he stood to leave, his black cape fluttering around him. "Wait!" The Kryptonian stood too. It caught Bruce's attention, but he didn't turn around. Before he could even stop the words from slipping past his lips, Clark blurted out, "I know what's going on between you and Diana."
Silence permeated the room was more, but this time it was different. It wasn't uncomfortable – no. This silence swore of bad things to come.
Bruce's voice was cold and emotionless as he spoke, "What did you say?"
That was it. He was a dead man.
