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"Mother! Father!"
The sound of two gunshots startles Bruce. He wakes up with a yell, sitting up and breathing heavily. Sweat covers his body in a disgusting layer that's soaked through his tank top and briefs.
Bruce looks around the room. He was up in his quarters on the Watchtower. He had barely made it here before he fell asleep. He should have known better than to sleep tonight of all nights.
He checks the time. It was only 10 A.M. in Gotham, so he still had more than enough time to get back into the city and stop by his parents' graves before heading to Crime Alley with Doctor Thompkins.
He reaches for his phone and scrolls through the notifications. It had less than most days. This day was one where people tended to avoid contact with him.
He was already late to work, so it was unlikely that he would show up anyway. He had a valid excuse today.
Bruce rolls over onto his stomach, scrolling aimlessly until he comes to three missed calls from Dick, two from Jason and Barbara, and one each from Doctor Thompkins and Commissioner Gordon.
It was ten in the morning. Did these people not have anything better to do? He knew it wasn't early by any of their standards, but they all had work to do. Even today.
He doesn't need his hand held.
Bruce is reading through several news articles that are recalling the event from years prior for the umpteenth time when there's a knock at his door.
"Batman?"
It was J'onn.
He stays silent, hoping the Martian will get the hint and leave him alone.
"I have the report of this week's mission ready. I could leave it outside the door or give it to Superman when he arrives," he tells him.
When there's no response, J'onn places the report on the floor outside and leaves, his curiosity growing.
Bruce goes to stand, and his body feels heavy. He feels sluggish and exhausted as if he didn't just sleep almost ten hours.
He opens the door and kicks the report inside before letting the door fall shut again. He stands there for several moments, head resting against the door. His eyes fall closed and he swears he can fall asleep here.
But his phone buzzes from the nightstand.
Bruce lets out a deep sigh and picks up J'onn's report. He tosses it on the bed and picks up his phone without looking at the caller ID.
"Hello?"
"Bruce! I've been trying to reach you all morning," Commissioner Gordon's voice comes through the line.
"Oh! Commissioner Gordon! My apologies. I've been... busy," Bruce sighs.
"Staying out of trouble, I hope."
"When have I ever been in trouble?" Bruce states innocently.
Jim scoffs out a laugh.
"What's wrong, Commissioner?"
"Jim," he gently corrects. "And... nothing. It's been a while since I've called to catch up."
Bruce begins to dress in his armor, "This is purely a social call? Somehow I doubt that."
"Well, no. It's been years since we met, Bruce. To the day."
"I remember," Bruce tugs his boots on. "I remember that night, Jim. You and Detective Bullock were there."
"I made you a promise all those years ago. You were little, but-"
"I remember, Jim," he cuts him off. The sound of gunshots echoing in that alley is all around him. "Clear as day."
Jim stays silent for a few moments before saying, "I want you to know, Bruce... that you're not alone. You never were. You have people in your corner. You have Alfred, Dr. Thompkins, and me. We were there that night. We saw the aftermath. And I'm sure you have your sons to lean on, too."
"I appreciate it, Jim. I do. And I know. It's just... been years."
"That pain doesn't ever go away. You and I know that better than most."
Bruce purses his lips. That's right. Gordon was there when his father died in a car crash with a drunk driver when he was nine.
"I know," Bruce sighs, putting the cowl on and transferring the call to his earpiece.
He puts his phone away and swings the cape over his shoulders, clasping it together at the front. He tries his best to push those memories to the back of his head.
"We're way past due for lunch together," Jim tells him. "We have so much to catch up on."
"I know, Jim. If you're not busy, then I am," Bruce chuckles softly before opening the door to his room. "But I promise, I'll try to reach out more."
"Maybe we could go to lunch together this Friday. Assuming there's no breakout or mass murder."
"Don't say that. You'll jinx it."
Jim lets out a laugh, "You and I both know that those maniacs in Arkham will do it regardless."
"We talk about this as if it's normal. What has this world come to?"
"Only in Gotham," Jim sighs. There's a long pause before the police commissioner speaks again.
"Have you talked to Lee?"
"Dr. Thompkins? Not today. I know she's busy with the clinic. I don't like to pester her," he heads out, locking the door behind him. "I'm seeing her later tonight, though."
Jim hums in what Bruce assumes to be approval.
"I always go with her to the alley," Bruce begins walking to the hangar. "We leave roses for Mother and Father."
"How're you feeling?" Jim asks.
"And there it is. I'm fine. As fine as I could be," he mumbles, ducking past the rooms where the Leaguers were relaxing. "I came to terms with their deaths years ago, Commissioner. I'm not as hung up as I was when I was younger."
What a damn lie. Here he was claiming not to be hung up on decades-old murders while dressed in the bat costume that he made to avenge his parents' deaths.
"But you never forget. You can't forget something like that."
"I just dive into my work, Jim. I'm busy at Wayne Enterprises and with Jason. He's reached those years where he's a handful," Bruce assures him. "I don't think about Mom and Dad as much as I used to. At least, not in the alley."
"That's good. That's very good. How's Dick? I haven't seen him around lately and Barb hasn't heard from him."
"He's in Blüdhaven. He moved there a while ago. I haven't really heard much from him. He left and we weren't on good terms," Bruce confesses.
"I see. I'm sure he'll come around soon enough. He's a good boy, though a troublemaker at times."
"You can say that again," Bruce laughs softly. "How's Barbara?"
"Oh, you know. Off having the time of her life in college," he jokes. "I wish she'd call more."
"Don't we all?" he hops into the cockpit of the Batplane and starts the engine.
"What was that?"
"A car. I recently bought a new one and I was testing it out earlier today. Just barely got off."
He takes off and says, "I do need to go, though, Jim. Alfred's already calling for me."
"Tea time, is it?" Jim jokes.
"Oh, no. That's not for another few hours," Bruce grins on his side.
"Well, alright, then. I look forward to lunch, Bruce," the commissioner says. "Take good care of yourself. Give my regards to Alfred and Lee."
"I will, Commissioner. We'll see you soon," Bruce hangs up and looks forward, his eyes on the big blue marvel in front of them.
The Earth was beautiful from up here.
But from down there...
He runs a hand down his masked face. It was going to be a long day.
~~~~~~
"Are you okay, B?" Jason leans against Bruce's desk. Bruce finishes buttoning up his suit jacket and tugs on his coat.
Jason pulls himself up to sit on the desk and crosses his legs.
Bruce sighs, "I'm fine. I'll be fine once everyone stops asking me that."
"Yeesh. Fine," Jason huffs. "Do you want me to go with you?"
"No, there's no need for that, Jaylad," Bruce places a hand on his son's shoulder and squeezes slightly. "But thank you."
Jason nods, but crosses his arms, "Babs keeps calling."
"I know. If she calls again, I'm busy."
"Yeah, yeah. I know the deal," Jason waves him off. "Are you taking off already?"
"Yeah. Don't wait up for me," he tells his son.
"Like I ever do."
Always so independent. Bruce ruffles his hair, earning a whine from the teenager, who pushes his hand off.
Bruce heads out of his study and towards the garage.
"Would you like a ride, Master Bruce? Or would you prefer to drive?"
"I'll drive, Alfred, thanks."
"Very well, Sir. The car is ready out front. Should we expect you for dinner?"
Bruce shakes his head but takes the keys. Alfred folds his hands behind his back, "Pay your parents my respects, Master Bruce."
"I will, Alfred," Bruce waves as he walks away.
The drive to the cemetery is short. He swears he almost crashes two or three times from how distracted he was. But he arrives in one piece.
He gets out, the two bouquets of roses in his hands. He walks past the other graves, and comes to a stop on a plaque that reads 'Victoria Beaumont.'
Bruce lets out a soft sigh and places down one bouquet. He whispers an apology. It had been over a decade since he met Andrea, and just under a decade since he fought her. Since then, he hadn't heard from her and wasn't sure if she actually was dead.
But he paid his respects nonetheless.
He then turns back to his parents' headstone. He takes a deep breath, gripping the roses in his hands.
His last name grows glaring as he approaches the headstone.
"Hello, Mother, Father," he greets, crouching down to put the roses down. He gets on his knees and sits back.
"I'm sorry. It's been a while, though that's no excuse. I've been keeping my promise. The crime rate in Gotham is down by 2.3%. It's not much, but it's something," he talks to them. "And, uh... things with Dick haven't really gotten better..."
"But he called me today," he adds quickly. "I'm hoping that maybe things could start to look up. I do want to fix our relationship, but I just... don't know how. And don't get me started on Jason..."
Bruce sighs, "He's... a handful, Mom. I know you would have been able to handle him, but I don't know how to get through to him. He's angry all the time. I don't fully understand why. His father left the family and was later killed, his mother died of an overdose. He grew up on the streets until I found him and even then..."
"He became Robin, but he's different than Dick. Dick became Robin to avenge his parents' deaths. He was already a trained acrobat, so it was easy to just train him to fight. Even now, he uses acrobatics as his main form of combat. And Jason..."
He looks up when a shadow befalls him. It was getting cloudy and dark out. There was a storm coming in.
It didn't matter. He still had time.
"Jason is just angry. I figured he could use his rage on the streets as Robin. His rage would help him fight. Only... he takes it too far," Bruce continues. "He beats criminals badly and I'm trying so hard to stop him. I thought I could help him. Now I'm not so sure that I'm what he needs."
He waits a brief moment and imagines how they would respond.
"I don't know what he needs. A grounding? A therapist? I can't give him more freedom. He has plenty. I just..." he sits back, crossing his arms. "You told Alfred to let me choose my own path after the two of you died. Maybe I should do that with Jason."
He stays silent for a long while. He's not sure if it's minutes or hours.
"It's been so long, Dad, Mom. It's been so long since I last saw you two. I miss you both. So much. I just wish you all could be here to see all that I've done. Batman, Robin, the League... Wayne Enterprises. I wish you could be here to see it," he blinks away the tears. "You'd like Dick and Jason. You'd love them both. And I know I'd be a better... parent if I had you two to rely on. Oh, and don't even get me started on Clark-"
A loud crack of thunder cuts him off. He looks up just as it begins to rain.
"I need to go. I'll be back soon," he promises. "I love you both."
~~~~~~
His appointment in Crime Alley goes as planned. Batman's not late and neither is Doctor Thompkins.
He enjoys her company. He feels like this would be too hard to do on his own, even this long after.
He places the two roses down and stands up immediately. Leslie lowers her head and rests a hand on Batman's back.
"How have you been, Bruce?" Leslie asks.
"You're the twentieth person to ask me that today."
She raises an eyebrow, daring him to exaggerate more.
"I'll tell you what I told everyone else. I'm fine. My parents died years ago. I went to their graves today and we spoke for a while. Now I'm here, and it's two hours and..." he checks the time, "...thirty-four minutes until the exact anniversary of their deaths."
"Any nightmares?"
"No," he lies and she narrows her eyes, imitating his infamous Batglare.
"I'm handling it, Leslie," he hangs his head with a sigh.
Leslie embraces him, and Batman rests his head against her, his cheek on her shoulder. They stay there in complete silence, with Leslie holding him steady as the rain falls all around them.
"Now, you, Bruce Thomas Wayne, may have gone and grown up, but you have not moved on. Not one bit. You're still the little boy I met all those years ago," she whispers. "And I wish I knew how to help you with this pain."
"You've already helped me, Lee. You've helped me more than you could possibly imagine. All of you," Batman mumbles. "I only ever wanted to be like them. Like Mother and Father. They were good people that only ever wanted to help Gotham."
"And since then, it hasn't been just them that I look up to. It's been you, too," he confesses and Leslie only holds him tighter. "It's been Alfred and Commissioner Gordon. Dick, Jason, and Barbara make me better, too."
"And those friends of yours? The ones that you've been working with?"
He lets out a brief chuckle, "Yeah. Them, too. They're a pain in the ass, though. All of them. Most of them."
She smacks him upside the head, "I know I taught you to use better language than that, Bruce Wayne."
He rubs the back of his head and glances around to make sure no one was around. As if anyone ever willingly came to Crime Alley.
He goes back to leaning on her with a quiet hum. Time passes by around them, past 10:47, but to the two of them, they're forever frozen in each other's warm embrace.
~~~~~~
"Batman."
His eyes widen in surprise at the sudden voice behind him. He turns around to see J'onn entering the monitor room.
"J'onn," he greets, turning back to the computers.
He comes up to stand behind him and Batman switches monitors, "Did you need something?"
"No. I only wanted to apologize again... for what happened with Morgan Le Fay," he pushes his shoulder back. "I never meant for it to go as far as it did. I didn't realize until it was far too late."
"You tend to apologize a whole hell of a lot, J'onn," Bruce mutters.
"I've learned that an apology can come a long way," he explains.
Batman scoffs, "You have nothing to be sorry for. If I had been in your position, I doubt I would have been able to resist her temptations. I doubt I would have wanted to."
"You've lost someone as well?"
Bruce looks down at the keyboard and takes a breath. He looks over his shoulder at J'onn, "Two. My parents."
"I'm sorry."
"There you go again," Bruce shakes his head. "But thank you."
"In any case, I was saying that if Morgan had offered me another chance with my parents... I wouldn't have been able to say no either. You're human... or... sentient, I suppose. Feeling. You lost your planet. Your people. Nobody faults you for the choices you made."
"Etrigan does."
"Etrigan is a strange case. I've known him for years. Don't let him get to you," he types at the computer, bringing up live footage from Gotham.
"Did you read the report?" J'onn asks, his red eyes scanning the footage.
Batman freezes. The report? It's a struggle to remember.
He runs a hand down his face and shakes his head, "No. I... forgot."
"Are you alright, Batman?"
Bruce inhales sharply, "I'm fine."
J'onn holds back another apology and Batman leans back in his seat, "I'll read through it and upload it to our files by Friday."
"I did not mean to rush you," J'onn says. "I was simply curious."
He's thinking back to their previous mission and how J'onn described his longing for his homeworld.
Batman looks over his shoulder briefly, "If you don't mind me asking... what was Mars like, J'onn?"
The Martian doesn't answer and Bruce is afraid he overstepped, "I'm sorry. I just... I've been told it might help to speak about it."
J'onn looks down at Batman and his stiff shoulders seem to relax slightly.
"It was beautiful. I never tired of the red sands or the architecture. I never tired of the people," he confesses.
"What did you do on Mars? That red x has to stand for something," he gestures to the x that crosses J'onn's chest.
"Correct. I worked as a M'honter on my homeworld. We were a peaceful civilization, that much is true. But in any civilization, there are... I believe the term is 'bad apples?'"
Bruce nods in confirmation.
"I suppose the M'honters were somewhat like your police force-"
"Corrupt? Cowards?" Bruce supplies with a coy smile.
"I meant we were a peacekeeping force. The word M'honter translates most closely to 'manhunter.' Though, that doesn't sound all that pleasing in English," J'onn gives Batman a small smile.
"I dunno," Bruce looks up at the monitors. There was an emerging forest fire in California. He had already dispatched Superman to stop it from spreading and the Flash to help the civilians.
"It has a bit of a ring to it. The Martian Manhunter," he says after turning his comm off. "It's not as straightforward as Superman or Wonder Woman-"
"Or Batman?" J'onn adds cheekily.
Bruce smirks and glances up to look at the Martian, "It wouldn't help people be less afraid of you, but that's not going to change."
J'onn frowns and looks straight ahead, avoiding eye contact. Batman watches him carefully, "I didn't mean to offend. I just meant that people are scared of what they don't understand, J'onn. It's human nature. And people don't understand you."
"Are you?" he asks, finally looking down at the human.
"Excuse me?"
"Are you scared of what you don't understand?"
"There's not much I don't understand."
"But there are things you don't know. No one knows everything," J'onn looks into the white lenses of the cowl.
Batman's eyes narrow when the Martian says, "Even the Batman. You say that it's human nature to be afraid of the unknown. So my question is: are you scared of me?"
Bruce meets his red eyes and stays silent and still. He waits several minutes before answering.
"There's nothing to be afraid of," he finally says but turns back to the monitors. He watches the League finish putting out the fire.
When he says nothing more, J'onn watches the footage just as Flash saves a firefighter from a collapsing tree.
"I like the name."
Batman looks up at him, eyebrows furrowing under the cowl.
"The Martian Manhunter. I like the name," J'onn clarifies, clearing his throat.
Batman stares at him and J'onn points to a new blip on the map. Bruce quickly brings up the information.
"It's a museum robbery in Boston," he states.
"Who's available?" J'onn asks.
"Hawkgirl is in Midway investigating what looks to be a Copperhead sighting. Diana and Lantern are in Europe protecting a diplomatic conference. It's just us," Batman turns the monitors off.
J'onn watches the Bat stand. He walks past J'onn, "You coming, Manhunter?"
The Martian Manhunter grins before flying after his teammate.
~~~~~~
A few days later, Bruce finds J'onn in the observatory deck of the Watchtower. He's standing a few inches away from the windows, his red eyes reflected through the glass.
Batman stands in the shadows of the back corner and watches for several minutes, wondering if the Martian knows he's there.
It isn't until J'onn reaches a green hand to the glass that he greets with a simple, "Batman."
"Manhunter," he responds, stepping out of the shadows.
The Martian turns around, a small smile on his lips at hearing his new codename. The Bat steps up next to his teammate, "Is Mars passing by?"
J'onn points a green finger at a bright dot in the distance, "Right there."
Bruce hums. He sees the longing on J'onn's face as he watches his barren home planet.
"You..." Batman clears his throat, "You said you had a family on Mars..."
His question goes unsaid and J'onn looks down at the shorter man, "I did. A wife - M'yri'ah - and two young daughters. K'hym was older by about two of your Earth years and was very overprotective of her younger sister. T'ania was a troublemaker. She was always in trouble, but always so sweet. And M'yri'ah... she was so brave. Until the very end. She fought alongside me against the invaders."
There was a brief pause before J'onn takes a deep breath and continues, "Even after they took our children from us."
Batman's eyes widen and he carefully places a hand on his shoulder, "... I'm sorry..."
J'onn lets out a weak chuckle, "Now you're the one apologizing when you have nothing to apologize for."
Bruce scoffs and smacks his shoulder, "You said it to me a couple of days ago. It's a thing people say. I... don't know why. I just... I grew up hearing it. I just... figured you might need to. I'm sorry for your situation, I suppose."
"H'ronmeer. Kal was right about you. You are extremely intelligent, Batman. You're a master combatant and strategist, but you don't act human."
"I'm not sure if that's an insult or a compliment."
"I'm not either," J'onn smiles.
"But I know what you meant. And, in all honesty, Superman acts more human than I do," Batman turns back to the stars. "Or so I've been told."
"Anyone that has told you that does not know you as well as we do," J'onn assures him.
"It was Kal."
That earns a laugh from the Martian, who feels comfortable enough to lift his legs and sit midair.
"I'm not good at feelings. I never much cared for them as I grew up."
"Why?"
Batman doesn't look away from the stars, "I was a happy child. The man that raised me... he calls me a 'sunny baby.' He says that I was a very happy baby and toddler. But a very sentimental child. Almost always happy, except for a day or two every few months."
"I had a mother and a father. I had the man that cared for me after they died. They all loved me and I love them. But my city... Gotham is beautiful. But it can be cruel," Batman explains.
"It's a city full of corruption," J'onn notes.
"Corruption in Gotham runs deep, J'onn. My parents knew that. They were trying to clean it up. At least... that was the plan," his shoulders lift with the deep breath he takes.
Bruce's eyes flick to J'onn under the cowl, "I was eight years old when my parents were taken from me."
J'onn's eyes widen. He knew Batman had lost his parents, but he had no idea that it had been so young.
'The man that raised me...'
The phrase hadn't made sense up until now.
"H... how?" J'onn asks.
"A mugging. It was a mugging," Bruce breathes. "We were walking out of a theater one night and my father leads us through an alley to catch an uptown cab. We were talking about the movie. It was my favorite movie."
Bruce focuses on the twinkling of the stars in front of him, "And the man came out of the shadows. He came out of nowhere. They pushed me behind them. The man asked for my father's wallet and he cooperated. He reached to take my mother's jewelry but before he could touch her, my father grabbed for the gun."
Bruce closes his eyes tightly, the two gunshots ringing in his ears again.
"He shot my father in the chest and my mother screamed. He shot her in the neck to stop her. And then he pointed the gun at me. Point blank," Bruce gestures to the spot between his brows. "Right here."
"I don't know why he didn't shoot. Maybe he didn't see a need since he had robbed me of everything when he shot my parents. Maybe it was because of the police sirens. Maybe he just didn't want to. But he left me there. He took my mother's pearls and ran. I just sat there in my parents' blood until the police arrived. My mother died the moment he shot her. But my father... he was alive when the man fled. I saw him take his last breath. I saw the fear in his eyes."
"That's why you refuse to use guns..." J'onn whispers.
"I was eight years old," Batman turns to the Martian. "I was a child when the corruption that had taken hold in Gotham took my parents from me. I swore that night that I would wreak vengeance on all the scum like the man that had murdered my parents."
"My parents were the best people I knew," Bruce tells him.
"Tell me about them," J'onn urges gently. "Your parents."
Batman weighs his options. He could leave and just go back to Gotham. It would be safer there than here next to J'onn. He wouldn't be risking his identity either.
And yet... against his better judgment, he finds himself staying.
He sits down at the nearby table, and J'onn follows him but doesn't sit.
Bruce takes a deep breath.
"Everyone says that I look like my father. I have his hair and stature. My father was a stoic."
"Ah. Now I see where you get it from," J'onn jokes.
Bruce shoots him a milder version of his Batglare. J'onn gives him a shit-eating grin.
"But the people that knew my parents say I'm most like my mother. I have her eyes, they say. More importantly, though, I have her heart. If I could help even those that don't deserve it... I would be happy. She dedicated her life to helping those that needed it."
"My father was a doctor," he continues. "A surgeon."
J'onn hums, "Busy hours."
"And yet... he always made time for us. He was always there at the end of the day to help Mother tuck me in at bedtime," there's the faintest hint of a smile on Batman's lips. "I only recall once that he wasn't able to. It was an MVC between a car that ran a red light and another vehicle."
"I refused to get into bed without him. I thought he had forgotten," Bruce shakes his head. "As if he didn't tuck me in every night."
"But Father was there without fail. My mother would bring me a glass of water and my father would tell me a story. He called me 'chum' regularly enough that it's a part of my regular vocabulary now," Bruce scrunches his nose up.
It wouldn't have been his preferred nickname for Dick, but it was the only thing he could think of when he had first taken the eight-year-old in.
It made him facepalm, but it made Dick laugh in a time when that laughter was scarce. And what a joy it was to hear that laughter.
"I can't imagine you calling someone that," J'onn grins.
"I don't. Not usually," Bruce shakes his head.
J'onn sits down next to him, "And your mother?"
Bruce looks down at his boots - which were outstretched in front of him, "She was focused on charity. She was the person that taught me what it was to care for people that didn't have what I did growing up. She would take me to the orphanage every year without fail, and while she took care of business, I played with the children."
"I remember... that day that Father was unable to put me to bed, Mother tucked me in herself. She sang a lullaby," Batman looks up at the Martian. "Every now and then, she would sing to me. She had such a beautiful voice."
"I can't..." Bruce looks down at his feet again, "I can't remember the song. Not anymore. It was so long ago. I only remember the tune."
J'onn listens as he hums the lullaby and his eyes glow for a brief moment as he links their minds. Batman fights it and J'onn mentally sends, 'My apologies. You were... broadcasting the thought. It's just on the outside. I haven't peeked past this one memory.'
'You better have not,' Batman threatens. He looks around. He was standing next to J'onn. Everything around them was pitch black.
'Are we in my mind?'
'You tell me,' J'onn looks around as the background shifts.
Bruce scoffs but watches as his old bedroom comes into focus. His mother's face is obscured, and J'onn watches as she comes to sit on the bed next to a little Bruce.
Batman wraps his cape tighter around himself and J'onn senses the tension coming from the other man.
"Bedtime, young man," his mother wraps an arm around the small boy. "Your father called."
"Daddy's not coming?"
"No, my heart. He's fixing someone up. The family was really hurt and your father is helping them," she holds the pouting boy close. His lip quivers but he nods.
"He'll be home soon, but by then, it'll be far too late for you," she runs her fingers through his hair. Bruce leans into her and she begins humming.
Batman listens as his mother begins singing the lullaby he had longed to hear for so many years.
"Al tid'ag,/ im yesh ke'ev, yesh ahava/ Achrey habechi/ yesh tamid siba litzchok/ Al tid'ag..." Martha sings quietly, dimming the lamp on his nightstand.
"What language is that?" J'onn asks, still watching the scene in front of him.
"Hebrew," he states, taking a deep breath. "I don't know how I remember..."
"The mind is very fickle, Batman. You were young when this memory occurred. As you grew, it became difficult to retrieve those memories, but they are still there," J'onn explains. "What does it mean? The song?"
"'Don't worry,'" Bruce translates. He pauses for a long moment before sighing, "'... if there is pain, there is love/ After the crying, there is always a reason to laugh..."
The song ends and the little boy is fast asleep against his mother's side, clutching her nightgown and sucking his thumb.
"You sucked your thumb when you were younger?"
The memory fades away. He opens his eyes and their back on the Watchtower.
"I was told I developed it because my parents took my pacifier when I was a little over a year old. I was a baby, and babies still have that reflex to soothe by sucking. I sucked my thumb until I was 5," Batman explains. "Don't you dare tell anyone that."
"You have my word," J'onn grins.
"Tell me something, J'onn... do you believe that it's for a reason?" Batman asks. "All of the pain and suffering that we've endured? Do you think it's all for some big reason?"
"I have to. The both of us... we've lost so much, Batman. I have to believe that it's for some reason. That some higher power saw something in us. In all of us," J'onn stands, reaching out to Mars.
Bruce stays silent for a long while, taking into account what J'onn had said. He stands up, his cape falling over to cover his arms and chest. The Martian turns, watching the Bat retreat from the room.
Before he leaves, however, he glances over his shoulder, "And J'onn...?"
The Martian hums.
"Don't ever invade my mind like that again."