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Clark was worried. Really worried. Well, that was until J’onn had told him Batman was regaining consciousness. They had been fighting Luthor, Grundy, Ultra Humanite, Star Saphire, Cheetah, Copperhead, and The Shade when Copperhead had snuck in a bit on Batman’s shoulder. It injected him with a lethal poison and when the group had to retreat, leaving an unconscious Copperhead to the Justice League, that’s when they noticed Batman lying on the ground.
Rushing Batman back to the Watchtower was their priority, though they sent Lantern and the Flash to the Metropolis police department to drop off Copperhead while they waited to interrogate him.
Back on the Watchtower, with a sample from Copperhead’s fangs, J’onn was able to make an antidote to the venom and treat Batman. Then they only had to wait. Of course, it’s Batman and they didn’t wait long. Clark was always curious as to how Bruce seemed to be able to keep going even when he had serious injuries.
“The venom antidote,” J’onn started, “It’s working.”
“Welcome back,” Clark said somehow managing to keep his voice even. “We were afraid we’d lost you.”
As soon as Bruce was awake he was asking about what happened. “Luthor and the others,” He took a deep, painful breath. “What happened?”
“They got away, all but Copperhead,” J’onn told Batman.
“I’m on my way to Strikers to interrogate him,” Superman mentioned. Not a moment after, Bruce was trying to sit up.
“Alright, let’s go,” He said breathily.
“No,” Clark said gently, bringing a hand to Bruce’s chest. “You’re staying here. That venom almost killed you,”
“So?” Bruce asked darkly.
“So, you’re staying here,” Superman said again with more power. He gave Batman a look which he returned tenfold but stayed put anyway. Then Superman proceeded to Strikers on his own.
As soon as Clark was out of the room Bruce yanked the IV from his arm and got out of bed. “You really should be resting,” Manhunter said as he followed Bruce to a set of computers in another room.
When Batman didn’t respond, J’onn continued to talk to him. “I know this must be hard for you, feeling vulnerable. You’re the only one of us without special powers but you don’t need to prove yourself. You’re a valued member of this team,” J’onn looked to Bruce from his spot next to where Batman sat, he was rubbing his fingers against his chin in thought before he got up. “And we’re only trying to,”
Batman instantly cut him off. “I’m taking the shuttle. Unless you’re going to try and stop me,” Batman said with a stern look. J’onn just moved to the side, even Batman was a little terrifying sometimes.
“No,” He responded as Batman retreated. Batman let out a sigh as soon as he was away from the martian. He didn’t need anyone telling him where he could and couldn’t go. He just needed to follow the tracking signal from the bug that he’d planted on Luthor before he’d gotten poisoned.
The venom still had him weak but only enough that he could feel his headspace poking around, ready to come out to play. That definitely wasn’t okay. Superman was going to end him if he found out that Bruce was between spaces and didn’t come to him. That was part of their deal, not that he was sure why he was actually keeping a deal like this in the first place. He hated being any type of vulnerable so why he was when he was with Superman was beyond him.
He shook his thoughts away before continuing to the javelins. He had a job to do.
---
Superman let out a sigh as he flew to Strikers. Bruce was going to be difficult about staying in bed for a while so the antidote could take full effect and he wouldn’t be surprised if he’d already left the Watchtower.
However, Bruce was the least of his concerns at the moment. He needed to make sure that the Injustice gang was taken down, that’d lower the risk of Bruce getting hurt again. He landed at Strikers where he met up with The Flash for the interrogation.
They didn’t get anywhere and Superman had them lead Copperhead back to the holding cells. “How does Batman do it?” Clark asked as Copperhead made his way through the door and down the halls. Flash just gave him a shrug. Nobody knew how the Bat did it. He just did.
---
Bruce made his way into the building and was listening in on a conversation between Luthor and his gang when something hit him in the back of the head, knocking him over the ledge and crashing onto the table below. The last thing he could think of was that Superman was going to be sooooo angry with him, he could hear the hysterical laugh of the Joker as his consciousness faded completely.
---
“Wakey wakey, Batman,” He heard the Joker say as soon as he snapped back to consciousness. A slap across the face made him look up to all the villains standing before him. Lex looked just as aggravated with that clown’s presence as Batman was.
“Joker,” He said calmly. “I should have known you’d be in on this,”
“Really?” He exclaimed, putting his hands to his cheeks. “Ha, I must be falling into a rut!” he said with a crazy smile, turning and walking to Lex. “You’re not going to leave him like this are you?”
“Why?” Luthor asked deadpan.
“Hello! He’s still alive!”
“And he’s going to stay that way until I say we don’t need him anymore,” Luthor told the idiot angrily.
“Lex, Lex!” Joker started as he leaned into the man’s shoulder, wrapping his arm tightly around the man and giving his shoulder a squeeze. “Listen to someone who knows!” He said with a joking tone. When he turned and whispered into Luthor’s ear. “Don’t wait! Do it now,” he told him lightheartedly, tapping the gun Luthor had holstered to his chest.
“You don’t like my decisions? Leave!” He shoved his elbow into the clown’s chest. He had no clue why he’d even shown up.
“And they say I’m crazy…” Joker said as he walked away, hand on his chest where Lex had elbowed him.
Everyone stared at Luthor which set him off, “What?!? Those restraints are pure titanium, he’ll never get loose and that stasis field will prevent the martian from locating him,”
This time Lex was the one to approach him. “Now, Batman, you must have some kind of passkey or access code I can use against your friends,” Luthor started. “Where is it?” he asked, inches from Bruce’s face.
A smirk raised on his lips, “Guess.” Bruce knew that they took his belt, Grundy was holding it as they spoke.
“Grundy!” Lex demanded. The giant zombie instantly tried to open the belt, getting electrocuted in the process. Bruce had to stop himself from giggling, it was bad enough his little side was making him more mischievous than normal.
“I told you,” The Joker sing-songed.
“Shut up!” Lex said quickly in response. He walked past the zombie sprawled on the floor and then pointed to the belt behind him. “Bring that upstairs, I’ll get it open.”
Star Saphire used her powers to levitate the object into the elevator and then Lex spoke one more time. “Humanite, Grundy, watch him.”
Bruce just looked at the two with squinted eyes. These two were going to be fun to manipulate. He had them fighting within minutes, rolling on the floor from simply mentioning money. He was sure Luthor was working to open the belt but he soon rushed into the basement level and saw the idiots fighting on the ground.
“Stop it right now!” Luthor yelled like he was scolding children. “You imbeciles are killing me faster than the kryptonite!”
“Sorry,” they both said as they parted ways to stand behind Luthor as he looked to Batman.
“You did this, didn’t you!” Lex accused as he walked closer, raising his index finger to Batman. “Well, it won’t happen again. Cheetah!” He called for her. She walked up to stand next to Lex. “Take over here. If our friend causes any more trouble… gag him!” he walked away, leaving Cheetah with Batman, her tail swishing in aggravation.
When she looked to Batman, she hissed, showing him the claws on one of her hands.
Interesting, Bruce thought. Someone else to manipulate and cause trouble with. He had to keep them distracted until he knew that the others were coming. It shouldn’t be long now.
---
The next time the doors to the basement opened, Joker walked back into the room with a TV on a cart and popcorn on the lower shelf. He bragged about a bomb on the Watchtower that had been planted there using the remote from his belt.
He knew it wasn’t a joke but remained calm. After all, he’d gotten what he needed and he knew that they’d find the bomb when they reentered the Watchtower. Humanite walked out of the room, leaving Joker alone with him and when the bomb didn’t destroy the Watchtower as planned, Joker turned to him with a knife and a laugh.
Batman headbutted him when he got close enough but when Joker stood to come back at him, Grundy grabbed him by the arm and spoiled the clown’s fun. He left and now Bruce was alone with a zombie that was easier to manipulate than a five-year-old.
He asked for some water, and when Grundy complied and gave him a drink, he used it to take the stasis field down, spitting the water upward to damage the mechanics. “Thanks,” he said in a normal voice as he reached out to J’onn with his mind. ‘J’onn can you hear me?’
---
J’onn shot up from the medical bed as soon as Batman reached out to his mind. “I know where he is,” J’onn said instantly, leading the League to a javelin and then to Batman’s location. They looked down onto the building where Batman was being held.
“There,” J’onn assured, hearing Superman’s thoughts. ‘He’s in sooo much trouble,’ he heard the Kryptonian think. “Batman’s definitely inside and so are the rest of them.”
“Then it’s a hostage situation,” John said. “They may try to use him as a shield.”
“Not if I can help it,” J’onn responded, going intangible and sinking through the roof they were all standing on. He rushed into the building even as he heard Superman protest.
“Wait!” they all just stared at where the martian had left from, then glanced at the building they needed to infiltrate.
---
J’onn ghosted through the wall into the room Batman was standing in, then called out to his fellow League member. “Batman!” He whispered.
“J’onn don’t!” Batman yelled as J’onn flew toward him, Humanite electrocuting him with a staff and rendering him unconscious.
---
“Time’s up. Now we do it my way,” Hawkgirl told them, launching herself into a forward attack of the building. They all followed her in, each attacking with precision and fluidity. While they had a few setbacks, they had the upper hand and the Joker ran off to deal with the Batman in the basement.
Each of the leaguers took down the villains with ease, with help from the Humanite taking down Lex himself. That only left getting Batman and the Joker.
---
“What?!?” Joker entered the basement to find the restraints empty, which Bruce couldn’t help smirk about as he maneuvered in the shadows, popping up right behind him as the clown turned toward the elevator.
Batman simply knocked the gun from the Joker’s hand when he tried to aim it at his chest, catching a punch the idiot had tried to throw at him and returning it with a punch of his own. “No fair! How’d you get free?” The Joker asked with that creepy smile.
“I could’ve escaped anytime but I thought I’d stick around to keep an eye on you clowns,” Batman told him with another punch to the face.
“You’re despicable,” The Joker said as he fell to the floor comically.
---
They loaded all the villains and escapees into the police vans, letting Humanite stop to talk with Batman briefly before ushering him into the van with the others. “What was that all about?” Flash asked from his spot on Superman’s right. Batman just smirked form his place on Superman’s left.
Everyone left slowly, Batman once again heading to the shuttle he’d taken from the Watchtower. Superman kept in pace with him, making sure everyone else had already left before saying anything to Batman.
“Don’t think I didn’t know you were pouting when I told you not to leave the Watchtower earlier,” He reprimanded with his arms crossed. Batman just stared at him. Clark joined him in the javelin. “And don’t think I don’t know that you’ve been between spaces since you got poisoned by Copperhead. You’re getting Little time as soon as we are back on the Watchtower.”
Batman instantly opened his mouth to argue, honestly, the man could be so stubborn but one look had him closing his mouth and crossing his arms. Clark took control of the javelin, obviously, Bruce intended to pout instead of pilot but he could care less.
Clark took off for the Watchtower, sending a few glances to Bruce as he looked out the windows with his arms crossed along the ride.
---
The javelin came to a stop in the docking bay and Bruce instantly got up and left the ship. He must have been intending to get away from Superman to the safety of the Batwing but Clark was faster, lifting him from the ground and carrying him further onto the Watchtower.
“Clark!” Batman whisper-yelled, struggling to get away from his grip.
“Bruce!” Clark mimicked. Only J’onn was on the Watchtower, he lived there but the man was no doubt in his private quarters getting some sleep on Superman’s recommendation. He’d taken a couple of hard hits today and Clark offered to cover the monitors so he could get some much-needed sleep.
Clark carried Bruce to a private floor of the Watchtower that only he and Bruce had access to, the others didn’t even know it was there. “Clark!” Batman said again, only this time it sounded a lot more whiney than he must have intended.
Superman just continued on, opening the doors to the floor and proceeding inside. “Clark!” Bruce yelled once the doors were closed and he was sure nobody could hear them. He’d made the floor soundproof and it was the only one without cameras so they had complete privacy when needed.
“Bruce,” Clark said patiently as he put Bruce down. The doors wouldn’t open for Bruce without Clark there next to him, a feature that Bruce had agreed to but now was aggravated by. Clark went to change his clothes in his private rooms and when he came back, Bruce was still standing by the door, not having moved an inch.
“I want a look at the wound on your shoulder that J’onn treated and a look at the bump on your head from when the Joker knocked you out with a bag of cement,” Clark said as he approached. He reached out once he was close but Bruce just lifted an arm up, putting his hand between Clark and himself. His eyes, though blocked by his cowl, were squinted in anger.
Clark just backed off with a sigh. Touching Bruce when he was in such a foul mood never ended well. It was best to just let him drop on his own and come back when he was more willing to listen to reason. “Fine,” Clark started. “I’m going to make some food. Let me know when you’re done pouting,”
Of course, Bruce didn’t answer, he never did but Superman knew that he disagreed with the term pouting. It didn’t matter, that’s exactly what the boy was doing so Clark just focused on making up some food. He’d have to wait and see what Bruce would want when he dropped, making him food prematurely was always a mistake. It normally ended up on the floor or covering the walls instead of in Bruce’s stomach.
He just made a couple of sandwiches and moved back into the living room where Bruce was still standing by the door. He turned the TV on and sat on the couch with a content sigh. It normally took an hour for Bruce to go down and Clark was sure it would be the same this time.
---
This time was much worse, Clark noted. It took Bruce two hours to decide to sit by the door and pout instead of standing there. Clark had tried to approach once he’d sat down but that only seemed to make the attitude worse. Bruce had more of a handle on his headspaces than normal- gripping tighter to his Big headspace than he normally did.
Approaching just made Bruce level him with a nasty glare so Clark once again backed off. He just needed a little more time, Clark was sure. He just sat back on the couch as Bruce wrapped his cape tighter around himself, making him appear so very small.
Clark let out a displeased sigh. If Bruce didn’t drop on his own soon, the agreed countermeasures would have to be put into action. Clark really didn’t want to have to use the countermeasures, even if Bruce agreed to them. He always tried to make sure that Bruce was able to go down willingly.
There was only one other time that they’d come this close to using the countermeasures but he’d dropped right before they hit the five-hour mark. The countermeasures were surly going to piss Bruce off even more but if he didn’t go down willingly, Clark would have to help him go down.
---
The five hours were almost up and Bruce still sat by the door silently, Capre and cowl covering him completely. Only his eyes were visible, still squinted at Clark angrily, his Batears poking straight up from his cowl menacingly.
In five minutes, Clark would have to go over there and help Bruce into headspace instead of letting him get there on his own. He was dreading it more than anything. “Bruce you have five minutes before I have to come over there,” Clark warned sadly.
Bruce didn’t even flinch. There was absolutely no movement.
Those five minutes passed and Clark got up with a sigh.
He walked over to Bruce and started to reach for him but Bruce instantly shot up and moved from his reach. “Bruce, please. You must be hungry and tired. Don’t be difficult.” Again there wasn’t a response, just Bruce bounding, running and even going as far as to use his grapple to keep out of Clark’s reach.
“Bruce,” Clark said with a warning tone, finally getting his hands on Bruce, wrapping a sturdy arm around Bruce’s waist.
“Let go!” Bruce demanded his first words in almost five hours.
“No, it’s Little time and you know it,” Clark told him, pulling down the cowl covering Bruce’s eyes. Bruce just glared as Clark walked back to Bruce’s nursery. He pulled his cowl back up over his eyes just as Clark walked into his room.
The door shut behind Clark as he flicked the lights on and set Bruce down again, not letting go of his wrist. Bruce just pulled to get away, his feet sliding from Clark’s sturdy stance. He felt a whine in the back of his throat but didn’t let it slip out even as he saw Clark rummage through the drawers for clothes.
After picking out an outfit, Clark turned back to Bruce and once again pulled the cowl away from his eyes. “Let’s get you into different clothes,” Clark said, Bruce just glared and continued to try and squirm away.
Clark knew that Bruce needed a bath, hell, he needed a shower himself, but with Bruce between headspaces the way he was, that wasn’t an option at the moment. Soon enough, Clark had Bruce in his Little clothes, mitts securely covering his hands.
The mitts were for extreme cases like this when Bruce was having difficulty going down. It also helped make sure that Bruce left his clothes on and hopefully make it so he couldn’t throw things. He’d never had to use them before so he wasn’t sure if they’d really work. Bruce was never really one to whine, especially when between headspaces but Clark knew that Bruce was still closer to his Big side than to his Little one.
Clark had gotten a good look at his shoulder and head when he’d gotten Bruce into other clothes and decided that he should be okay but would be keeping an eye on Bruce for any signs of a concussion or even pain. The Little wasn’t nearly as good with pain as Big Bruce was.
Clark left the room with Bruce squirming away on his hip, headed straight for the kitchen. Bruce needed something to eat and a bottle would surely help him get into his Littlespace easier. Clark grabbed a bottle from one cupboard and the meal replacement formula from another.
All things considered, this could be going a lot worse, Clark took note. He was sure Bruce was tired and needed some food but he was also sure that Bruce was going to be as stubborn as possible.
Clark made the bottle anyway, heated it to the Little’s preference and then made his way back into the living area. There was a playmat between the couch and television and that’s where Clark set Bruce down, placing the bottle on the playmat next to him.
Clark still wanted to see if Bruce would just let go, maybe drink the bottle on his own. Unfortunately, Bruce decided that throwing things was a better option. The mitts made it harder but Bruce was nothing if not persistent and soon enough he was able to grip things enough to be able to toss them.
Clark was just getting more and more aggravated. Bruce was not making this easy, not that it ever was in the first place. After a few minutes and a spilled bottle, Clark had enough and scooped the Little Bat up. “Bruce you know not to throw things,” Clark said harshly.
Clark led Bruce to the corner of the room and sat him down. “Stay here,” he said firmly. “I’ve got to clean up your little mess,” He turned to walk away and as soon as he did, Bruce took off. Clark let out an exasperated sigh and instantly turned his attention to catching Bruce.
It took a few minutes and for Clark to use his super-speed but he eventually caught the little batbrat. “I told you to stay in the corner,” Clark said once again, losing his patience. Bruce had always tested him but never had it been this bad, not even the first time after they had made this agreement.
Instead of putting him back in the corner, Clark held onto the wiggling boy as he cleaned up the spilled milk and made a new bottle. This time when he brought Bruce into the living area, he sat on the couch and placed Bruce in his lap. “Let’s try eating our food this time,” Clark told him as he once again brought out a bottle for Bruce.
It took another half an hour before he was able to even get the bottle into Bruce’s mouth. Bruce had been silent practically the whole time he’d been on this floor which had Clark believing, especially right now, that Bruce was close to dropping.
Bruce wasn’t really one to talk unless it was strictly business- he never got personal, but Little Bruce didn’t talk at all. He wasn’t really old enough in Littlespace for whole sentences or even fragments. He was a giggly Little and normally cheerful if he went into Littlespace on Big Bruce’s terms.
The Little was plain grumpy as he sat in Clark’s lap, dead silent but still squirming, even as Clark tried to get him to eat. Clark squeezed the bottle a bit, milk making its way into Bruce’s mouth which made the boy pause what he was doing so he could swallow it.
It seemed that once Bruce had swallowed the first bit, his mind went blank and his stomach took over. His hands raised to help hold the bottle in place as he continued to drink from it. His eyes never once met Clark’s as he guzzled down his drink.
Bruce was more than a little pissed. Clark had dragged him to the caregiver floor and the doors wouldn’t open from the inside unless Clark opened them, eventually, he had manipulated him into his Little clothes and then his brain had started to get even fuzzier.
Now, here Bruce was, almost asleep on Clark’s lap as he struggled to finish his drink. This wasn’t how he intended for the rest of his day to go. He was going to go back to the cave, work through some evidence, ignore the throbbing migraine he had and the searing pain in his shoulder from where the venom had been injected into him.
Clark, thought something completely different, though. He’d seen right through Batman’s mask though and Bruce hadn’t been able to do a damn thing about it. It was bad enough that he’d been teetering when he was with the injustice gang, but Clark had known it and taken action when he was sure nobody was around.
This wasn’t where he wanted to be but here he was, about to pass out from his exhaustion and pain, surely to wake up completely in his Little headspace. He put in his last-ditch effort, trying to push the bottle away before he promptly passed out, Clark’s warmth surrounding him completely.
---
Clark had tuned into the TV as Bruce drank from his bottle, only looking down when he felt a slight push against his wrist before a head thumped softly against his chest. What he saw was Bruce passed out against him, hands in his lap as he curled closer to Clark.
He let out a content sigh as he placed the bottle on the side table next to the couch, getting up to place Bruce down for a nap on the playmat. He grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch, covered the Little up and left him for his nap.
---
When Bruce woke, he was definitely in Littlespace. He had managed to roll over onto his stomach and then used his arms to push himself up to sit o his feet. He rubbed at his eyes as the blanket fell from his shoulders.
He let out a shiver, noticing how cold he was, missing the warmth from his blanket but didn’t otherwise do anything about it. His hand made it’s way into his mouth as he looked around at the secure floor of the Watchtower. His head really hurt, so bad that it felt like it was throbbing.
“Hey, buddy,” Clark greeted as he lifted Bruce and the blanket off the playmat. “Let’s now chew on our fingers,” he told the Little as he pulled his hand from the boy’s mouth, pulling a whine from Bruce’s mouth that surprised them both.
Bruce finally locked eyes with Clark and his vision instantly started to blur. Clark saw the Little’s eyes tear and was instantly put into panic mode. Bruce only ever cried when in pain or if he was unwell. Now, he had to figure out what the Little’s reason for tears was before the little sobs turned into something far worse.
Reaching his hand out and placing it against Bruce’s forehead got him an instant answer. Bruce was burning up and shivering. Clark covered him with the blanket better and moved to get out Bruce’s Little medications. “What hurts, buddy?” Clark asked as he took in each of the options.
Bruce lifted his hand to the back of his head as his sobs picked up and Clark let out a sigh. It had to be from the hit he took from the Joker yesterday. He grabbed up a bottle of pain meds and made his way into the kitchen. He’d have to feed Bruce before he could give him anything.
Clark had Bruce passed out against his shoulder in no time, Bruce’s face was hidden in his neck, hands clenched tightly into his shirt with a paci firmly in his mouth. Clark covered him up with the blanket as he sat back on the sofa and adjusted his grip to get Bruce more comfortable.
Bruce was always so vulnerable looking when he was in Littlespace. Bruce knew but hated to admit it, that he was always vulnerable when he was in Littlespace. He refused his Littlespace before Clark came along and then had to make a deal to get Clark off his back about it.
While he hated it, Bruce was someone who was able to embrace his vulnerability so naturally and easily but that didn’t make him weak. Embracing his vulnerabilities as easily as he can even if he doesn’t like it, makes him stronger. Bruce knows it makes him stronger, that being vulnerable isn’t a weakness but he doesn’t like to admit it.
Big Bruce never let himself be vulnerable and any time that he could have been seen as vulnerable, he proved a point using intimidation and fear. That’s what made seeing him so vulnerable in Littlespace even more endearing. It was a rare sight reserved for when he was Little.