Work Text:
“Welcome, kiddies, to Unnecessary Heroic Sacrifices 101,” John Constantine said, circling the class name on the board.
“Yes, uh- speed kid?” Constantine called on the freckled red-head who was wrinkling his nose.
“Are you allowed to smoke in class?”
Constantine tapped his cigarette into the tray on his desk before hanging it back between his lips. “My class, my rules. Next Question. Uh… Spooky.”
Batman lowered his hand, “What qualifies you to teach this class?”
Constantine didn’t look up, “A basic self-preservation instinct. Next question.”
He searched the room, eyes landing on a cloaked figure by the window. “Spooky number two, got anything to add?”
Raven sighed, “I know this class is supposed to teach us not to sacrifice ourselves, but what if our being alive is what’s threatening this dimension?”
Superboy spoke up, “Uh, yeah, teach? What if we’re a clone? Do our deaths even, like, really count?”
Power girl frowned in agreement.
Hal Jordan flicked a paper football across the classroom. It bounced off of Constantine’s coat and into the waste bin. “Or what if there’s a hundred other soldiers just like us waiting to take our place. Is it even a loss?”
Constantine pinched the bridge of his nose, “See this? This is what I’m getting at. You twits are here because you take your lives too fucking lightly,” he put both hands on Hal’s desk, dragging him to attention with a shouted, “Get a grip!”
He paced back towards the center of the room, “You lot are supposed to be heroes. How can you be a hero if you can’t even save yourself?”
The room scowled at this.
Constantine ignored them all in favor of scribbling on the board, underlining his message in red. He tapped at the first bullet point, “Unit 1: Valuing your life.” Raven rolled her eyes. Constantine paced to the second bullet point, “Unit 2: Understanding your limits,” he glared pointedly at the Flashes, who sank a little in their chairs. Batman perked up at “Unit 3: Trolly problems and proper planning.” The entire room cringed as Constantine finished with, “Unit 4: Be Fucking Selfish for once.”
He dropped the Expo marker in its tray with a clatter, “Here with me today as an assistant teacher for the introduction to unit one, we have Mz. Harleen Quinzel.”
“It’s Dr. Quinzel. I didn’t go to medical school for nothin.”
Constantine curtseyed, “Course, Love, my bad. I expect everyone on their best behavior for the Doc.”
Batman had a batarang out, Raven’s powers were on high alert, and Superboy had lifted his desk to throw before Constantine could turn around.
Harley motioned for them to take a seat, “Relax! Jeezus, you’d think I’d blown up the Gotham bank or somethin!” She winked at Batman, whose eye-slits narrowed, recalling her doing exactly that this time last year.
“I’m an antihero now, sugar, not a villain.” She chewed on the end of an Expo marker before writing out the day’s lesson plan. “I’m just your friendly neighborhood licensed psychiatrist now. So! Today, we’re going to do a real simple exercise.”
She clapped her hands together, making every heroes’ fingers itch for defense.
Constantine was already napping in his chair.
Harley flipped up onto the teacher’s desk and passed out worksheets by cartwheeling over heads and across desks until she was at the end of the room, “There we go! Everyone got a sheet? Gotcher name and the date in the corner? Great!”
Wally finished reading the prompt first, blinking rapidly. “Why is your life, specifically, valuable?” he muttered aloud in disbelief.
Hal Jordan, “What is this? Kindergarten?”
Harley snapped her fingers in front of Hal’s nose, a wide, stale smile creeping up her cheeks, “If it’s so easy, maybe you’d like to share your minimum 15 answers with the class now.” Her voice drops into threat, “Of course, your presented answers are final, and if you fail this first assignment, you’ll receive a failing grade for the course…”
Hal gulped.
Harley swept her arms wide, voice goading, “Unless… anyone else would like to take his place and present their answers?”
Batman solemnly raised his hand, a noble set to his chin. He stood, “I’ll take Green Lantern’s place.”
“Get the fuck out of my class.” She pointed at the door. He skulked. Her eyes followed him disappointedly as he trudged out, “That’s right, Batsy. Go and think about what you did.” She shook her head, “Oi vey, Imma have to have a little talk with the Riddler -who for legal reasons I do not have any contact with- about giving that bat some more difficult trick questions.”
Constantine called to the hallway, without opening his eyes from his nap, “Sit outside until class is done, Batman. We’ll have a word.”
Harley turned back to her pupils, “Now then! Greenie, please come up and tell us 15 things that ya’ value about y’self.”
Hal at least had the forethought to bring up his worksheet, which he’d quickly scribbled a few doodles on. “Dr. Quinzel, do I really get a failing grade if I don’t deliver?”
Harley’s gaze softened, “Of course not, sugar,” but her eyes took on a wicked glint, “I’ll just make you sit in the hallway with Batsy until you can learn to respect the lesson plan. Kay? Kay.”
The class gave Hal a sympathetic look. The green lantern was willful, a brash lover of the lime light, but getting Hal to talk about himself sincerely was like pulling teeth.
Hal cocked a hip and rattled off, “Well, I was one hell of a fighter pilot. I protected sector 2814 pretty nicely. I was loyal to the guardians for a long time-“
Harley interrupted, “You’re using the past tense, Sweetie.”
Hal turned crimson, all the swagger gone out of him.
Harley motioned nonchalantly, “Keep going.”
Hal glanced at his worksheet, “I’m uh- I’m a strong fighter. I’m a loyal worker, I think. A good uncle, sometimes. I try to be good…” He rubs the back of his neck, “I guess, my gal said I was pretty handsome?”
Barry shot him a thumbs up from the back.
Harley titled her head patiently, “Just seven more!”
Hal looked like he would rather be fighting Mongul again.
“I’m skilled at practicing fighting, I’m a hard worker I’m tough as nails it takes a lot to kill me I can make green constructs I’m a good enough engineer I’m not half bad at hand to hand combat and I could fight a god if I tried hard enough,” he rushed it all out. “There. Fifteen.” He marched back to his seat, all puffed up.
Harley snatched his worksheet out of his hand as he went, “Thank you, Green Lantern. Now class,” a different persona lit her eyes, “did anyone see what happened there?”
Wally raised his hand, “He made fun of teacher and got burned?”
Harley smiled, “Why thank you Kid Flash, yes, GL got absolutely dunked on, but I was meaning in a more metaphorical sense.”
Barry slowly raised his hand. Hal shot his bff the look of a man betrayed.
“Yes, Flash?”
Barry was unsteady, trying to find the right words, “Ha- er, he mostly just said ‘I’m a tough/hardworking soldier’ in different flavors.”
Harley nodded, but challenged Barry to think harder, “And why do you think it's note-worthy that Green Lantern said that, if that’s what he values most about himself?”
Barry frowned, “Because… he’s so much more than that.”
Harley straightened her pigtail carelessly, waiting for him to give a better answer.
Barry motioned wildly to Harley, trying to summon the right response into existence, but in the end, he turned to look at Hal. “Green Lantern isn’t just a soldier. He’s a devoted uncle, a loyal friend, a brave leader …He- He’s outspoken and funny and compassionate, and he inspires his friends and family to be as brave as he is.”
Hal’s lower lip trembled, “Bro…”
Harley pointed her pen at Barry and spoke to Hal, “That- is the kind of love and respect I want you to show yourself on this assignment.”
Supergirl rolled her eyes, “God, not another self-love speech. I can talk to Superman if I want a motivational kitten poster.”
Harley ignored her and wrote on the board: “Connections.” She underlined it three times in red, “More than your individual traits, each of you has connections. Best friends, lovers, family, coworkers, and fella’ community members.” She glanced at Supergirl, “I’m not askin’ you to love y’selves, persay, but to just treat yourselves with some goddamned respect. Think about whatcha family and friends value about you if you’re havin’ trouble coming up with something ya'self.”
She capped the marker, “Raven! Tell me something your friends value about you!”
Raven went pale(r). She was quiet for a long moment before she admitted, “I’m not sure.”
Harley grinned sympathetically, “Superboy, would you like to try?”
Connor cracked his knuckles, “I’ve got three best friends: Impulse, Wondergirl, and Red Robin. They probably love me because of my awesome tactile telekinesis. I know those crazy bitches would take a bullet for me. And I’d do the same for them -ride *and* die, y'know?”
Harley turned to Constantine, who shrugged, “I told you these ones were tough nuts to crack.”
Harley rolled her eyes, “Kiddo? Supes? Sugar? How would you feel if Red Robbie actually took a bullet for you?”
Superboy frowned, as if he hadn’t thought about that. “He has taken a bullet for me before, Doc.”
“And?”
“I was furious. He almost died and I couldn’t do anything to stop him.”
Harley raised her eyebrows, motioning him onward, “And…?”
Superboy stared, bemused. Harley frowned. Superboy flipped the collar of his leather jacket up to shield himself from her disappointment.
The good doctor rapped her knuckles on his desk, “And! That’s exactly what happens, people! When we sacrifice ourselves, it hurts our friends! When we don’t think about what we mean to our friends, we forget that it’s not just us we’re sentencing to death in battle: It’s Every. goddamned. connection we’ve ever made that up and dies with us. Do ya’ get that?”
Blank stares.
Harley gestured to each of them in turn, “You aren’t just a body. You aren’t just a set of powers. You aren’t just a soul or a brain or a hero. You're all those things AND a web of connections. And all those connections get cut off when you die, and all those connections get injured when you’re hurt. Your hurt yourself, you hurt your loved ones. So value yourself like you would a loved one.”
She pointed to the worksheet, “You folks are giving’ me a headache. Jus’- class dismissed. Do ya’ worksheet, read chapter three, and I’ll see ya next week.”
The group milled out of the room, and Harley wiped the board clear, “Constantine- can I call ya’ John? I didn’t believe you at first when you said the Justice League had to have a class for this, but Holy fucking shit! Christ on a Cracker! I get it now.”
Constantine chortled, “Yeah, they handed me this teaching job when the ol’ teacher -you know Canary- decided she needed a semester off for mental health reasons.”
Harley frowned, “What ‘append to her?”
Constantine rubbed the dark circles under his eyes, a rueful grin on his lips, “Apparently the bat drove her batty.”
Harley tilted her head, “Batsy was here last semester?”
Constantine dusted the ash off his coat, “He’s the reason they made this class in the first place.”
He took his briefcase and wished Harley well.
Constantine meandered to the hallway where Batman sat against the wall, puddled in his cape.
“Constantine.” He grumbled.
Constantine slumped against the wall, “Batman.”
They glared at each other for a minute before John broke, “Are you really gonna do this to me all semester?”
Batman pouted.
“Really Bats? Nightwing passed the class on his second semester; Robin, Black bat, and the Batgirls all passed their first try; and Redhood eventually passed on this third. Hell, even Red Robin passed last semester. And I once saw that squishy fucker try to take a bullet for a brick wall. So why are you still here, not passing this simple class for the eighth semester in a row?”
Batman only crossed his arms over his chest.
Constantine sighed, “Could you at least pretend to do the work? Just enough to pass? You must know the correct answers by now.”
Batman remained stoic.
Constantine tucked his briefcase under his arm and handed Batman the day’s worksheet. “Fine~ Just have this in by class next week, Love. Goodnight.”