Chapter 6

Bruce hated being laughed at.

Bruce hated it when people laughed at him.

Really, really, hated it.

All other variations of the kind included.

Worse still when it was the people closest to you in a situation that just wasn't funny. Or amusing, or well, you know, funny. Like a 'funny har har' sort of funny. For crying out loud, he'd just been turned into a kid… indefinitely. Minus the fact that all his physical, um, prowess was gone, and that he was now super tiny, no one was taking him seriously, at all.

That really got on his nerves.

He didn't even want to think about the fact that his train of thought was following horrendously close to that of Wally, or Tim. He should've been concentrating on how to navigate himself out of this situation, not stand there like some idiot (kid) and watch them all have fun, make fun of him.

If only Alfred had been able to get back in time, they would've managed to sneak to the teleporters, to the safety of Wayne Manor. There, he was hoping he'd be able to contact Blood to help him get him out of this whole mess, keeping it hush-hush at the same time.

Of course, the chances of that happening now were zero to none. Alfred wasn't making matters any easier.

And no, this wasn't funny. At all.

"Do you mind?!"

Still they continued, and it'd been a full five minutes. Bruce wondered if it would conducive to conduct a test on just how much air did Metas require to sustain themselves. Would Ray Palmer help him? In his present physical state, he doubted even Robin would take him seriously.

The Flash certainly wasn't, and he was about Dick's age. Would that mean Dick would be laughing his butt off too? Fun at his expense… taken to an entirely new level. One he didn't particularly think highly of.

Bruce crossed his arms. No one noticed. He cleared his throat. Nothing changed.

He walked over to Wally West and stamped on the speedster's toes, hard.

"Yeeeeeoooow!"

Someone started to pay attention.

Flash's screaming was extremely effective in calling the others' attention. Perhaps he would look into adapting it into the Watchtower's Public Announcement system sometime. Now though, more pressing matters needed to be dealt with first.

"I want an explanation."

"I thought you wanted to find the Demon?"

Bruce pursed his lips in annoyance at the interruption. Trust West to be the one to remember the little details.

"I did."

"Come now Bruce, I think we all want, and need, an explanation," Diana said. She had been one of first to calm down after Flash's howl. Perhaps the Amazons were very good at masking their emotions quickly. Perhaps it was due to what he had said during their last tangle with Le Faye. Bruce didn't want to go there.

"What is there to explain? She cursed me and that's it. Now if you don't mind, I'll finish my breakfast," he glanced pointedly at Alfred, "Then we can proceed to reverting me to my proper, full grown self."

Pivoting on his heel, Bruce marched through the infirmary doors towards the lounge, clenching his jaw at the thought of eight pairs of eyes following his every move. Save Shayera and Wally, his comrades would all be pondering the meaning of 'his weakness' in lieu of his recent transformation.

His eyes squeezed shut for a moment. No, he wouldn't think about the implications

of this alteration again. Better to concentrate on the main problem without bringing all the subtext in along with it.

What was the 'main problem', exactly? No, don't think about. Don't, don't, DON'T.

He found it unsettling that only Diana, and Wally he supposed, had spoken to him. Surely Clark would've thought of something to say by now, or J'onn, or even John or Shayera. Were they having one of those blasted telepathic conversations without him? Not that he enjoyed the presence of others within his mind (no doubt the sentiments were mirrored), but if they were conversing about him, shouldn't he be told?

It wasn't like he really was a real…

"So kid, don't you think I need an explanation?"

Bruce stopped short, rounded on Wally, eyes blazing, fists balled into tight little fists, hissing.

"I am not a kid!"

For once, the Flash was not intimidated. This wasn't going well.

"Sure seems like it to me, kid. I mean, why else are they over there," Wally pointed at the group walking slowly behind, "No doubt talking about you up here," he tapped his head, "Without you?" finger coming to rest on Bruce's forehead.

Bruce batted it away angrily.

"Flash, if you're trying to make light of the situation… learn tact, and don't."

The Flash shrugged off the remark with a grin.

"Hey, I've been the immature baby of you lot for ages now, and what's so weird about being a kid anyway? It's only for a while after all. I mean, it's a no brainer right? Le Faye messes up her spell, you get turned into a kid, we get to kick her a-, uh, we get to kick her to the other side of the magical realm, and you get turned back into Mr. Dark-and-Scary-Batguy. Right? No fuss, n—"

Bruce had let out a pained moan, sliding down the metal of the corridor walls, writhing in agony. Wally could only stutter in shock as the rest of the Leaguers rushed to the boy's side.