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"Batman, come in. Can you hear me?" Diana's voice rings through the comm in his ear.
He can't feel his body. He's stuck under the debris of a fallen building.
"'m here," he slurs, but they can't hear him. His microphone isn't on. He needs to tap it to call for help. He can't feel his hands. The little girl next to him had stopped moving several minutes ago.
He had used his body to shield her, and he hoped it was enough. He was quickly losing consciousness and he wasn't sure the League would find him.
"Cl...ark..." he whispers.
~~~~~~
Batman blinks several times as he regains consciousness. He was once again in the medbay up on the Watchtower.
The entire League was sitting or standing around his bed.
He begins to sit up, but Superman presses his shoulder down, "Lay down, Batman. You need rest. You were stuck under that debris for hours."
"I can't..." he groans but lays back. "The little girl... how is she?"
Everyone immediately avoids eye contact, and Superman shakes his head slowly.
Batman closes his eyes, anger coursing through his veins.
"She had already passed when we pulled both of you out. She was the only casualty," Diana answers.
Batman scowls and Superman rests a hand on his shoulder, "You can't blame yourself."
"Like hell, I can't."
"This was on Joker. Not you. Nobody could have saved that little girl. She died from the explosion before the collapse," Superman murmurs.
"No, she wasn't!" Batman snaps. "She was alive when we fell! She was moving under the debris! She was kicking me!"
He sits up, and his head throbs. He gives them his best glare, "Where is Joker?"
"In custody," Flash crosses his arms. "He's back in Arkham."
"We get it, Batman," Lantern speaks up from where he was sitting. "You feel responsible. But you can't save everyone. The bad guy was caught, he's behind bars."
"Lantern," Diana scolds.
"We lost a little girl. A child!" Bruce stands up. "And if it had been anyone but me in that room with her when the building collapsed, she would be alive. If I had figured out Joker's plan..."
"You are talking in what-ifs, Batman. Those do not exist, and the longer you linger on them, the more they will pain you," J'onn tells him. "Believe me... I know."
Batman holds his head, ignoring the throbbing pain in his head. He leaves without speaking another word.
~~~~~~
He spends an hour on the observatory deck before one of them comes to find him.
Clark comes and sits beside him in complete silence for several minutes before Bruce speaks.
"Did you know I got a little girl killed? It was years ago... before Robin," he begins. " She had been kidnapped. The daughter of a pharmaceutical scientist who specialized in designer drugs. Her name was Sissy Porter. She was being held in a tunnel that was quickly flooding. I was so close to reaching her. I promised her that I would save her..."
Superman stays quiet as he listens to his best friend.
"She died that night. I was too late. I was too weak. And the father... God, Clark, the father didn't care. He didn't care about the pain she went through. The fear. He didn't care that I couldn't save her," Bruce explains. "He just cared that the drug the kidnappers had been asking for could have. He told me about his designer drugs and how they increased strength and stamina. He offered me some."
"What did you say?"
Bruce doesn't answer. He looks up at Clark and takes a deep breath.
"No," he finally says. "At first, I said no. Alfred thought I was crazy for focusing so much on the one life I couldn't save. But... I figured the drug - Venom - couldn't hurt. I would spend less time lifting weights and more time focusing on cases."
"Oh, Bruce..." Clark whispers.
"I thought I wouldn't become addicted. I told myself I wouldn't. But... it was one a day. And that became two. And then three. And then my month's supply only lasted a week. I found myself desperate for more. I was hooked, and Alfred was the only one that saw it."
Bruce looks out at the stars. It was a beautiful sight. It was relaxing.
"I became violent. It made me more violent. I would do anything for those pills. He was working with a retired general and together they asked me to kill someone. Someone important to me."
"Who?"
"Commissioner Gordon. Jim," he murmurs. "My urge to kill someone had never been as strong as it was at that moment. I could have killed him. I would have."
Clark turns back to the windows, "What stopped you?"
"I don't know. I just know that I forced myself to hunt down Doctor Porter and the general, but he waved those pills in my face, and I-"
"Went for them instead," Clark finishes. Bruce nods once, looking down at his gloved hands in embarrassment.
"You said that Alfred knew that you were addicted from the beginning. When did you realize?"
"When they drove off that night. Alfred had quit during that time because of the pills... because I wouldn't listen. I asked him to come back and he locked me in the Cave for a month."
"On purpose?" Clark's eyes widen.
Batman huffs out a laugh, "I asked him to. I went through withdrawal that month and built up my strength in the months following it. I chased them to their hiding hole and they managed to capture me. They had continued their experiments with Venom during the months that I was incapacitated."
"They put me in a room with the pills. All I had to do was open an 800-pound door several stories above me. I found another way. But damn it, Clark. Those pills were calling me."
"And yet... you didn't take them. And you wouldn't take them now even if I handed them to you."
Bruce sighs, "No. But I couldn't help but think that the little girl that died today would have been saved if I had taken that pill."
"The rest of the League was worried about you. They all thought you had gone to kill the Joker."
Bruce scoffs. He shakes his head, "I've been fighting that monster for years, Kansas. If I was going to kill him, I would have done it the day I met him."
"We can't save everyone, B. It's part of the job. It isn't pretty, but that's how it works. We try our best to save everyone we can, but sometimes, we lose a few. It doesn't mean we can lose ourselves in the progress."
"I know..."
"You should be in bed. You cracked several ribs, fractured your wrist and tibia, and have a severe concussion. You also have a broken-"
"I know..."
"Would you actually be open to getting in bed without me calling Alfred, or will you also be answering with 'I know?'"
Bruce gives him a look and Clark holds up his phone, typing in the number.
"Kent. No, wait," he stands up with a groan. "I'm going."
Kal smiles and puts his phone away. He goes to lift him, but Bruce slaps his hands away, "Don't push it, Kansas."
He hobbles a few steps and stops, leaning against a table. Clark rests his hands on his hips and Bruce can feel the shit-eating grin on his face.
"Now can I fly you to the medbay?"
Bruce grunts, "Fine."
He crosses his arms with a huff when Clark lifts him bridal style, "I hate this."
Kal looks down at his best friend, "I know."
"Asshole," Bruce mutters.