"Superman is, going, rogue. Request… request backup!" Barry's out-of-breath voice crackled through the comms. "Mind control… Again! I can't believe— Oomph! Hey, Supes, take it easy—"
Bruce sighed, slumping in his fancy seat.
"Anything you would like to add, Mr Wayne?" Lucius said, eyes narrowed in warning. This would be Bruce's fifth time rushing out of the meeting room this week alone, and Bruce was running out of supermodels that owed him favors.
Or maybe he didn't have to leave. Although Martian Manhunter, Cyborg, Black Canary and Aquaman were currently unavailable, he trusted that the Flash and Wonder Woman could take down evil Superman in Metropolis.
(Never let it be said that Batman did not have faith in his colleagues.)
There were also rumors of a glowing green leprechaun flying around the area, who might be an ally, according to police reports in Coast City.
Batman's appearance would therefore be – as much as he hated to admit it – unnecessary today.
"Of course not, Lucius," Brucie Wayne giggled like the airhead he was, "Just remembered that I have a prior engagement…"
Lucius looked two seconds away from growling.
"…that can wait," Bruce finished lamely. He looked down to his phone and saw that Lucius had inexplicably managed to type out a thesis-length text about how the other Justice League members have it handled, don't you dare leave me alone with these people, Bruce, or I swear I'll make all your batarangs bright pink…
There was an inhuman screech in the comms. "C'mon, Supes, those were my patellar tendons! I need those!" Then the boom of an explo— multiple explosions in the background. "Alright, now I'm pissed. You think you're fast? Newsflash, buddy—"
Batman would need to impress upon Barry the importance of getting enough sleep. The scarlet speedster always got grouchy on Tuesday mornings.
"…Are you still with us, Mr Wayne?" Lucius said through gritted teeth. He hated it when Bruce left the meetings; Brucie's presence often made meetings with other people go quicker. Everyone knew Brucie's boredom could lead to: either him refusing to throw money at their cause, or him falling asleep right then and there, which would be humiliating for everyone else either way.
With Bruce gone? Lucius would have to suffer through hell, because everyone knew Lucius Fox was too much of a polite genius to interrupt a boring monologue. So no, you can't go, Mr Wayne.
"Got distracted," Bruce smiled charmingly. "What are we talking about?"
"Diana, hold on! Supes, that's your own damn office! …Does literally ANYONE know where Batman is?!"
A nervous man in a cheap suit was droning on and on about something. Bruce nodded at nobody in particular while expertly sending a text to Dick under the table, barely moving his right hand.
Dick replied with a smiley face and so it's Tuesday huh
Bruce was very pointedly not fidgeting, and was definitely not screaming in exasperation.
A new voice appeared on comms. "Is everything alright? I hear Batman screaming," J'onn said.
"Where. Is. He?! Oh crap, heat vision, Diana! No, there are civilians…! Ohhh, Boy Scout, you owe me cookies once you get your mind back!"
Bruce took out his other phone (because of course he has numerous backup phones) in his left hand and sent a text to J'onn: I am not screaming.
He could hear J'onn's voice telepathically speaking with a hint of amusement: Batman, you did so on purpose. You are fully capable of hiding your thoughts and your identity, yet I could hear your mental scream from Australia.
Perhaps, Bruce conceded. Keeping his thoughts loud and clear, he added: Tell them I'm on my way.
With that, Bruce stood up and stretched, ignoring the dark look Lucius gave him. "Oh, please carry on, gentlemen. My son just reminded me that I have – hmm – yoga class. In Alaska. Family bonding, you know." He gave a half-hearted shrug.
The businessmen watched Brucie leave, their eyes already glittering like vultures as they smarmily smiled at Lucius.
Bruce walked out of the door. He silently took inventory of how many black Batarangs he had left, and cursed.
Everyone knew Batman was a man of few words.
When he arrived on the scene, Barry was almost hysterical with stress and hunger. "Bats! What do we do?!"
Batman, as expected, merely growled, "Follow the plan."
"What plan?"
Barry was handed a flyer. "Umm, not sure washing machines are gonna help, Bats, but can I keep this?"
Impatiently, Batman flipped over the flyer and pointed to the bottom-right corner, which was filled with smudged ink and weird symbols.
Barry grimaced. "No offense, but you have doctor's handwriting." He shoved the paper in Diana's hands.
Diana placed a placating hand on the Dark Knight's stiff shoulder. "Batman, we are well aware that you have numerous contingency plans, but you cannot possibly have foreseen this."
"Yes," came the gruff reply. "Yet I have predicted this exact scenario."
Diana frowned, while Barry blurted out: "But that's impossible!"
Batman's lenses narrowed. "Only if you're not me."
"Really." Barry raised an eyebrow. "You predicted this situation. Exactly. To this very second."
"You better believe it." Batman's lips twitched. "However, I could be a few milliseconds off."
"Bats, you're joking. I know your contingency plans are good, but—"
Diana patted Barry on the back and gently shook her head, a slight smile hanging on her lips. Barry's mouth audibly snapped shut.
Limiting himself to ten words per sentence, Batman began outlining his plan, which was essentially for Flash to act as bait (and maybe throw a few punches) while Diana dealt with the spellcaster. Batman would meanwhile be on ground-level with the kryptonite, waiting for the Flash and giving first-aid to trapped civilians.
"Bats, but what if Clark—"
"Flash, code names!"
"—came after you? Even with your super-healing…"
Batman shot a questioning glance at Wonder Woman. Diana was about to correct Barry when Batman cleared his throat and said seriously, "That is a non-issue. I can spot him with my laser eyes."
"You have laser eyes?" Barry's eyes grew wide.
"Only works when there's nobody else around," Batman confirmed.
Diana silently wiped away blood from the corner of her mouth to hide her mirth.
"Wow," said Barry, reverence clear in his tone.
Batman added a mental note that Barry's intelligence went steeply downhill when he was sleep-deprived. "Enough talk, follow the plan."
The Flash sped away while mumbling something about how Batman was clearly an overpowered metahuman.
Batman melted into the shadows, chuckling once he thought Barry was out of earshot.
Diana left with a laugh. Oh, and still people say Batman had no sense of humor!
Hal Jordan was flying back to Coast City when he saw an alien with glowing red eyes, destroying Metropolis in spandex and a visible underwear. For some reason there was also a bald man in a mech suit aiming a gun at said alien while shouting, "How is it possible that you only manage to dodge kryptonite blasts while under mind control? …Mercy!"
Hal's first thought was huh. His second thought was cool. His third thought was oh fucking hell you kidding me not now!
His ring cheerfully announced, Power level at 1%.
Sheesh, okay. Hal powered down behind a half-demolished bookshop. There was no one else to see him in his civilian identity amidst the chaos. Not gonna lie, it felt good to be in his plain flight jacket again. Being Green Lantern was great, except for when you were hungry and tired and self-conscious about being a glowing green bullseye in the sky.
Suddenly, something smashed through concrete behind him. The wall trembled with superhuman rage. Meteor? Advanced Earth tech? Hal reflexively held out his glowing ring towards the threat—
He was abruptly thrown to the side, away from the crumbling wall. Somehow, there was a nightmare demon cloaked in shadows, his outline obscured by a majestic cape. Maybe-Satan grunted, "Leave."
Just as suddenly, the black goth devil dude disappeared. Hal only saw the edges of a tattered cape through the hole in the wall. There was a streak of crimson and glowing green light, then eerie silence.
"What the fuck," Hal said out loud.
"What the actual fuck," he repeated again, just for the heck of it.
He shook his head (ow, he still had a concussion from his weekly Tuesday battle with Sinestro) and asked his ring: Hey, what was that?
What was what?
That.
What is this "that" that you are referring to?
That!
That what?
I don't know, that! The ghost knight guy! Alien! Goddamn green light! Is there another Lantern here? I thought this was my sector.
Power level— The ring's light sputtered and died.
Great. Just great. Hal groaned, clutching his head. Carol was gonna kill him, then resurrect him, then kill him again.
That is, if he managed to reach Ferris Air on time. Which seemed more improbable by the minute.
Now, if only he could find his wallet—
Apparently, defeating the spellcaster was not enough to bring Kal back to his senses.
Fortunately, Batman figured out that a good ol' concussion would do the trick.
The press had a field day with the footage of how Batman brutally and repeatedly slammed Kal's head into the crumbling tar road. (This was not at all awkward or friendship-straining.)
A man who looked suspiciously similar to Lex Luthor was spotted. He watched as Batman ruthlessly pummelled Superman to the ground and turned away. Sharp-eyed reporters claimed to catch a hint of a sympathetic wince on his expression.
#BatmanvSuperman trended on social media.
Now clear-headed, Kal hugged his knees to his chest, a shock blanket draped delicately on his broad frame. He was hunched over, appearing more Clark Kent than Superman.
Batman approached in near silence, hesitated, then left to locate hurt civilians. Superman located the black silhouette in his peripheral vision and looked away, sighing.
In the distance, Diana was offering ice cream to a child no older than six. Another child orphaned, all because of Superman.
This was not his first time being mind-controlled, but he never got used to the way his heaviness in his heart afterwards. He felt chilled to the bone, gripping the shock blanket tightly like a drowning man grabbing at thin air, grounding himself in the smooth texture and reassuring weight.
Even Superman could not undo everything.
Clark Kent would be sobbing now. However, as Superman, he merely watched with dry eyes at the chaos he created. On the ground, the world burning, powerless.
Next to him, a baby opened her eyes, met Superman's bloodshot gaze, and started wailing.
"I'm sorry," Superman told the newborn's mother sullenly. "I just… I'm sorry."
The young woman quietly shushed the baby, then timidly whispered back: "It's okay, Superman. We know it's Tuesday."
Superman buried his face in his hands.