Chapter Text
"Bruce. Bruce. Eyes open." The billionaire jolted, stitches stretching taut painfully across his midsection as he half way sat up in a panic. A heavy, unrelenting hand push him back, superman's blurry vision coming into his vision. Leslie was working on extracting a bullet from his shoulder, bloodied tweezers probing for the foreign metal object. Bruce gasped quietly. "You know." Leslie hummed, sounding way too tired. "When you said you had injured friends, I didn't expect to be tending to the entire justice league and Batfamily."
"Hnn."
"I think that was sympathy." Clark declared, rubbing absentmindedly at a bandage covering his chest.
"Oh, and you've deciphered his infuriating little hmms, have you?" Leslie shot back. "Don't touch that."
His hand fell from the bandage, returning to Bruce's shoulder.
"Sorry- yeah I'm no expert but..."
"Did you set Flash's leg?" Leslie cut him off. Her tone was sharp, exasperated. She had plenty of experience with triaging a situation; but she hadn't expected to be tending to every member of the batfamily and the justice league. The Cave, normally cavernous and way too empty now felt cramped and hot. Thankfully, no one had said anything about it so far. They were too injured to really give a crap about the living accommodations. Soon the hub bub would die down, and Alfred would insist on moving people into the manor for a nutritious supper and a good night's rest.
"Yeah. Got an antidote for the laughing gas in him too." Superman replied with a nod. "Then I performed emergency surgery on lantern's ribs and got him covered in a thermal blanket. He's gonna be chilled and aching pretty good for a while, but we won't have to worry about pneumothorax."
Leslie raised an eyebrow. "Didn't know you knew how to do that." She remarked, grabbing a needle and thread from the now sparse looking first aid kit. She'd have to have Alfred grab another one.
"I actually have a medical degree." Superman replied casually; and if it were possible, Leslie's eyebrow quirked higher. "You set Diana's arm back in it's socket, but the concussion I suspect will linger. Nightwing had a few nasty gashes, but Red Robin is stitching him. Robin is on thorn duty. He only had a few; but Hood wasn't so well off. The only person left is Bruce..."
"-who decided not to inform us of the bullet hole in his shoulder." Leslie huffed, shooting him a scathing glare.
"Not important." Bruce huffed. "Had it handled. Others needed attention."
"Which is why-" Leslie grumbled, probing a little deeper much to the bat's displeasure. "-it moved."
Superman pressed down on Bruce's shoulder and stared intently at his scarred chest, eyes glowing slightly. Bruce shot him a scowl. He hated the vulnerable feeling of having someone stare at your internal organs; but before the disgruntled bat could say anything, Clark sucked in a breath and shot Leslie a look. "You're gonna want to grab the anesthetic." He lightly tapped Bruce's chest a fair distance away from the bullet hole. "It's right there."
"Ah becoming buddy buddy with his right lung. You really shouldn't let your internal organs go on play dates, Bruce. It never ends well." Leslie sighed. Her piercing gaze flashed to Clark. "Scrub up, Mr. Man of Steel MD."
"You shouldn't have called the league, Nightwing. We had this handled."
"No. We didn't. Stop being a control freak and look around. A Joker, Harley Quinn, Ivy, Harvey Dent, Bane, Scarecrow, and Mr Freeze team up isn't something three bats and two kids can handle! They're all hitting at once, what did you expect me to-"
"Batman, this is Superman. Stop giving Wing a hard time for being smart and tell us how you want our efforts coordinated."
"Hn."
"This is haha... is... hahahaha!"
"Flash?'
"haha... Joker is... ahaha...ow... down... hahaha."
"Don't worry, Flash. I'm flying your way now. Batman, I took out Bane. Diana's down, but non critical."
"L-l-lantern r-reporting in... Fre-eeze is... frozen..."
"Cyborg here. Batman's down for the count, but he took Harvey with him."
"Nightwing here. Scarecrow's out and I've become way to acquainted with his scythe, but Red Robin and I are otherwise A-ok. Is Batman Bleeding?"
"Yes."
"Oh hey, he's awake."
"Robin, report."
"And back to business."
"Shut up, Grayson. Hood and I have apprehended Ivy."
"-her thorns freaking mmph!"
"We're fine, father. Hood lost his communicator."
"the Watchtower's not responding."
"Uh... sorry Superman. I was in the middle of fixing a glitch." Cyborg massaged the back of his head. "Got the call and... I guess I didn't realize how bad it was."
Hal let out an irritated puff, clutching his chest and glaring the robotic member of their team down. It was nowhere near as terrifying as the batglare. The Batfamily and league had gathered outside of City hall with their captures, forming a massive villain pile in front of the steps. Bruce could finally survey the damage to his team.
"Maybe Supes could fly up there and-"
"I currently have a piece of Kryptonite lodged in my shoulder." Clark replied flatly. "I'm not in any shape to be making space flight. I barely had the energy to help the flash."
Nightwing shuffled over to Bruce, feet dragging across the concrete. He couldn't muster up the willpower to lift his sliced and stabbed legs off the ground more than a few inches. He had his right arm cradled in his left.
"They need a place to crash and get medical help."
Bruce spun to face his first ward, jaw ticking slightly. "I didn't want them here in the first place." The loyal defender of Gotham snapped dryly, white lenses glaring Wing down.
"I know. But even with their help, we barely walked away."
"I could have handled it. The league didn't know what they were walking into."
Bruce tried to brush past, but Wing caught his wrist tightly. "Yes." He replied flatly. "They did. They've done their research into your gallery. I know how you are about your city, but we needed help. There's nothing wrong with asking... and they aren't. You can see they need your help. So give it."
Bruce grit his teeth. He didn't want them in his house.
"Hey guys!" Nightwing called when Batman didn't immediately say no again. "We have a doctor and plenty of room. Let's go. We're gonna have to take one of the tunnels to the cave."
"Oh hahaha!" Flash cackled hysterically, looking miserable the entire time. "thank haha... the..." He trailed off, wrapping an arm around Superman's shoulder as he curled in on himself and chuckled quietly to himself.
Diana clutched her arm and moved forward first, goading Lantern along. And thus the trek to the cave began. Batman made a mental note to buy out every sugary cereal company in the country and put them out of business. Then, just as Bruce had lost his silence, Nightwing would lose his morning tooth rot.
Bruce woke up in his room upstairs, clad in his bathrobe and boxers. He wondered if it had been Superman or Alfred. He didn't want to think about it. There was a thick itchy bandage restricting his breathing, pain in two different spots on his chest, one from the hole and the other from a new incision. Years of experience kept him from scratching. Instead, he clambered out of bed, grabbed the awaiting pain pills from the side table and padded out of his room. It was deadly silent, but several doors were ajar. He frowned. Those were the guest rooms.
He glanced at a clock on the wall. It was 4:56 AM.
So everyone was still asleep. Of course Bruce suffered from Insomnia. No way was he going back to bed, especially not with the entire league and batfamily in his house. He gave it a solid three hours before Damian stabbed someone, probably Tim. Hood and Lantern were going to start a full on prank war involving green and red glitter... or something. He shuddered at the thought and started a pot of coffee.
Hopefully the league would all be gone by noon.
"Ah, Bruce, there you are. Why aren't you at Breakfast?" Leslie asked, nursing a steaming cup of black coffee with a half asleep look on her face. Somehow she still managed to be austere looking at the same time. The bat shrugged slightly.
"The entire league is sitting in my dining hall."
"I see. Well you're going to have to get used to it." Leslie replied deadpan. "I want them here at the manor under my observation. At least for the next twenty-four hours."
Bruce's eye twitched. Suddenly her cup of coffee was plucked from her hands as Tim dragged himself by, mimicking the slow and painful movements of a slug. Leslie stared on in shock as he stopped, downed the entire scalding cup of bitter liquid and put the mug gingerly back in her hands. Then he continued on with a muffled thanks.
"Uh-"
"Twenty-four hours. Isn't there room at the clinic?" Bruce demanded. Leslie shot him a withering glare. "Right. Fine. Just stay on hand. If Hood doesn't kill someone, I might."
"Go get some breakfast!" Leslie called after him. "Alfred made pancakes and fruit salad. It'd be a shame not to get in on that."
Bruce decided to begrudgingly obeyed the scary Doctor Thompkins. He had a pretty good suspicion that Alfred had wrangled everyone down to the Wayne Manor breakfast hall. Every chair was filled with league and batfamily members. Subdued chatter filled the dining room for the first time in a long while. The previous days events had left everyone tired, injured, and mentally exhausted. Otherwise, Bruce suspected that there would have been far more lively bickering. He really hoped no one wished him a good morning. He just wanted to eat.
As his foot crossed the carpet to tile divider in the doorway leading in from the west wing, his foot snagged a tripwire. A bucket landed on his head. A brief glance down revealed red and green glitter piled up around his feet.
With a grumble, he listened to Hood and Lantern snicker to themselves. Apparently dousing your host in glitter was therapeutic for those recovering from injuries.
Twenty-four hours.
He could survive.
Maybe.
There are few things scarier than Alfred Pennyworth's rendition of the batglare; and it has both Jason and Hal cowering like kicked puppies. They are both dismissed from the table and sent in search of a mop and vacuum cleaner. Bruce briefly wonders when they found the time to set that trap as he goes upstairs for a long shower.
Finally glitter free, Bruce sneaks back downstairs for breakfast.
"Morning... again." Clark smiles, way too friendly for a man who got shot with kryptonite merely the day before. Bruce lets out one his signature 'hns' before taking a spoon of fruit salad.
"You have glitter in your hair." Diana remarks, reaching over and plucking a little piece from his black locks. He stared at it with an ever rising amount of contempt.
"Hn."
"You know, I'm beginning to wonder if someone doused you with something." Clark sounded absently worried.
"Hn."
"Yes, Bruce, I'd be happy to get you a pancake." Dick says from where he's sitting a few seats down. He stands up, knowing full well that the bat doesn't eat pancakes, and Bruce glares at him as a steamy baked treat lands on his plate, right on top of the salad of he was eating. "Want syrup too?"
"Sit down, Dick."
"See? That's how you do it, Uncle Clark." The way too giddy twenty-one year old beams, falling back in his seat. Clark shoots him a startled look, and Bruce's glare somehow deepens.
Jason lets out a long stream of curses that has the passing Cyborg freeze up. He turned slowly, and both Lantern and the robotic teen stare the Red Hood with slightly mortified gazes.
"Dude."
"What!?" Jason snaps, turning the vacuum cleaner off.
"I think a sailor just wet his pants somewhere." Lantern remarks, putting his broom aside, careful not to jostle his surgery stitches. That's why he had chosen broom duty. He didn't have to bend over at all.
"Whatever. Hey robo-dude-"
"Cyborg."
"Right, Cyborg. Please tell me you have a super powerful vacuum extension."
"No."
"What!?" Both Hal and Jason gasp in unison.
It's the mighty red hood who continues. "How can you can shoot lasers out of your butt, and not have a vacuum cleaner!?"
"I do not shoot lasers out of my butt!"
"I was here first."
"I get that, but my show's on." Barry remarks innocently.
"Your sappy romance you mean."
"Barbara was just about to kiss Samson!"
"Ew! Silence ingrate. My father has graciously accepted your presence in this house; but you shall not defile it with-" Damian stared down at his now empty hand. The remote was gone, but the Flash didn't have it.
"Shut up you two." Dick remarked from the love seat on the other side of the room. "Gotham Love is on. Barbara and Samson were finally about to kiss!"
"Yes!"
'I despise you, Grayson..."
TBC I'm Open for any (non romantic) kind of request. Pranks, fluff moments, team bonding moments, etc.