Chapter Text
Bruce definitely should not have been at this meeting, but he's never missed a League meeting. Not with four broken ribs, not hanging onto his sanity by a thread. Especially not something as important as this. Their annual meeting to discuss potential new League members was probably the meeting that mattered most, so if he could power through debriefs and monitor duty, he could get through this too. That's what he'd been telling himself this morning after taking way too many painkillers, and effectively limping over to the zeta tunnel, while Alfred looked on disapprovingly. At least, he'd gotten here early enough that no one had actually noticed him hobbling over to the chair.
It was just his luck that an Arkham breakout had happened the night before this meeting. He could feel himself slipping in consciousness and focus, slipping further and further into his own mind. There was nothing he could do to stop the slow drag of his attention back to his family at home.
As if the Arkham breakout wasn't bad enough, some of his kids had taken some bad hits and he'd spent all night at their bedside, patching them up. Watching the blinked back tears as he stitched them back together. Night like that always made him feel horrible, antsy the next day. His child soldiers, even if they were filled with the same rage and anger as him, and he couldn't stop them from pushing further and further. They were children, even if some of them liked pretending otherwise. Children. His children. They deserved better. Deserved childhoods, and fully realised emotions, and a life without this rage, this fear. Deserved more, and better than him. How could he keep watching the repressed tears, the scars forming over juvenile skin.
Many of them would be in worse places alone, he knows, and half of them had costumed alter-egos before he was ever in the picture. He knew that he was holding back some of their worst impulses, and training them protected them because they could not be stopped or held back. He knew that anger better than most. None of that made it easier to see them in those cots in the medbay, or to hear their screams.
"Batman," Diana's voice cut through the fog. Bruce turned his glazed over eyes to her, not that any of them could see that with the cowl. "Do you have opinions on Nightwing's nomination?"
Nightwing. Dick. Another one of those child soldiers of his. Would he have turned out differently if Bruce had never taken him in that night? His life kinder, better? Bruce's brain wants to delve deeper into those thoughts, but the League is waiting for his response.
"No. Nightwing will not be joining the League," and Bruce's voice sounds hoarse, even worse than it usually sounds the modulator. Bruce is absolutely hoping and praying that no one notices the inflection, the wince he is fighting to keep from his voice.
Diana levels that gaze at him, and it's flat, clear, intent. She always seems to look straight to the truth with everyone, even him, for all his secrets. "Why are you so adamant on Nightwing not joining the League?"
What Bruce wants to say is that Nightwing has other commitments, to Bludhaven, to the Titans. Even though he knows its not a good enough reason. Because what Bruce actually wants to say is that he wants to keep Nightwing as far from the worst of the threats as possible. His son, Dick, should have a different life, a better one. He'd hoped that moving to Bludhaven, leading the Titans would give him enough of the action that he was always seeking out but keep him from the worst of it. But Bruce is delirious with this many pain meds in his systems, and all the wires in his brain cross and fizzle out in a spark of electricity.
So what actually comes out is, "Because he's uh... Dick." Well, shit.
Bruce's mind seems to clear somewhat, or at least enough to start racing through all the dangers he's putting his family in by revealing Dick's identity. Year and years of crafted lies, of holding everyone at arm's length, even if he wanted very badly to let them in, all of it for his family. He trusted the League, he really did, but their lives weren't safe by any means. They faced alien threats, and methods of mindcontrol, and horrendous torture methods every week. Even when his family had started to make their own names in the world, starting with Dick, they'd buried their relationship to him in the public eye so none of his enemies would go after them. He'd done everything in his power to shield his family, to hide them from the League's purview. Had forbidden the League in Gotham, and lied and lied and lied. All of it undone in a second because he was too stupid and stubborn to miss this meeting, or just reschedule it. Down and down the spiral he went. His family dead in the gutters because of his stupid mistake. Barbara, Jason, Dick, Cass, Steph, Tim, Damian, Duke- All of them. Dead.
Diana blinks at him slowly, "Are you saying that Nightwing shouldn't be invited to the League because he's a dick?" He has to hold back the sigh of relief, and he barely does. His body hardly feels like his own right now.
"Seriously?" Hal asks, looking at him incredulously, "You're the one always telling us not to bring personal matters into League operations, and you want to barr Nightwing from membership because he's a dick?" Yeah, this is bad for his image as calculating, impersonal. But Bruce can be an asshole, a hypocrite. He can be anything if it protects his family. He'd been worse, sacrificed more than his image, did things that had him puking his guts out an hour later. All of it, for his family. His children.
"Unless you have an actually valid reason to stop Nightwing from being a candidate for League membership, I think we can dismiss your concerns," Diana said. Bruce is just glad to keep their identities a secret as the League moves.
After the meeting, Bruce's movements are very intentional as he heads for the zeta tunnel. It didn't surprise him that Dick was considered and approved of for League membership, and even if he didn't want Dick joining the League, his candidacy filled Bruce with a swell of pride and warmth. Not that it lasted long before his injuries started to rear their ugly heads. At least not going to 'meet' Dick with other League members meant he could keep up the appearance of hating him.
Clark typed the code into the panel beside the zeta tube for Titans Tower, Diana and Barry at his side. Nightwing was a strong candidate, and it hadn't been a surprise to him that he'd gained the votes needed to be offered membership. He'd personally offered his nomination up for Nightwing. The vigilante had earned a reputation quickly over the past couple years as a capable leader, fighter and strategist. He seemed to share a large skill set with Batman, and seeing him fight didn't seem so different from how Batman fought. Which is why it felt so strange that Batman had tried to shut down the candidate so quickly without good reason.
Something just felt wrong. Batman had been off today. It was obvious, at least to Clark. Though maybe that was because he paid closer attention to Batman than anyone else, and today, Batman didn't really seem all there. Clark would be inclined to say he was injured, if his suit wasn't lead-lined, he'd have been able to confirm that theory, but after one situation where Clark had lost his shit at Batman for operating with four broken ribs, he'd started taking actions to stop Clark from being able to check him for injuries. Even so, Batman was usually quite attentive during these meetings, offering arguments and counter-arguments easily for every candidate, really forcing the League to debate it, but he'd been markedly quiet today. Batman was many things, but hypocritical and bitter didn't feel like the right descriptors. It just felt like he was missing something, but how else could 'because he's a dick' possibly be interpreted. He wondered what Nightwing could have possibly done to make Batman react so negatively to his nomination. Batman was impersonal and objective at best, cold at worst. He'd never before stated personal reasons for something.
The light of the zeta tube filled his vision, and a moment later, a room materialised before him. The windowed walls looked out over Jump City and several individuals that Clark recognised were sprawled over the couch.
One of them, Wally, jumped up as the zeta announced them. "Hey! Uncle Barry! What brings you to Titan's Tower?"
"Hey Kid," Barry says with a laugh, "Looking for your boyfriend actually."
"Oh, I'll go get him," Wally says, before racing off.
Coming back two seconds later with a Nightwing bridal carried in his arms, setting him down.
"Geez, Wally, why?" Nightwing says, pinching his nose before noticing them. "Oh. That's why."
"Nightwing," Diana says, smiling. "The League has noticed your leadership skills with the Titans, and your skills as a vigilante. We wanted to extend an offer of membership to you. You'd be given access to League resources, and have the backing of the League for attacks."
"The League." Nightwing says slowly, but there's a slight frown to his face. That's odd, most people are ecstatic to be extended an offer of League membership. "The Justice League. Me."
"Yeah, 'Wing," Wally laughs from the couch.
Nightwing purses his lips, "Batman agreed to this?" Ok, so clearly the relationship is bad on both sides. What could have possibly happened between those two? The circles that they ran in surely couldn't have clashed that much. Batman was from Gotham, had been for years; Nightwing was from Bludhaven and had only operated for a handful of years. Even on the worst occasions, an alien invasion, a magical conspiracy, where Nightwing had led the Titans into the fight beside the League, Batman hadn't shown any animosity. The two had actually seemed to work very well together.
"I wouldn't say that," Barry says.
"The specifics of Leaguers opinion is irrelevant. In the end, we are extending our offer of membership," Diana said firmly.
"Right," Nightwing says, "Uh, yeah. I'll take you up on that offer." He had a distant look about him, as if he wasn't really paying attention to this. Odd.
Clark gave him the details of the Induction Ceremony at the Hall of Justice in a few days, and the entire time, Nightwing seemed distant, and had sighed a few times looking off into the distance. Even as the Titans had buzzed around him about the nomination, Wally and Artemis seemed to catch on too that Nightwing wasn't thrilled about this.
He was about to fly off for the night, back to Metropolis, when he caught the back end of Artemis and Wally talking to Nightwing.
"I don't know, I know we aren't on good terms," Nightwing said, before trailing off.
Wally sighed, "But you thought he'd at least show up?"
"Yeah," Nightwing said. "I didn't think B was this angry at me."
"The Bat's complicated," Artemis said, "You know that better than anyone." Why would Nightwing know Batman better than anyone? The two had only met on a handful of occasions and despite working well together, they'd never shown any outward signs of a deeper relationship.
"I know, I just-" Nightwing sighed, "thought it would be better by now. That we could put it in the past a bit."
Far enough in the sky that he couldn't be seen amidst the clouds, a thought caught Clark off guard. Was Nightwing Batman's ex? They clearly knew each other, deeper than they let on during fights, and more than anyone else apparently. It was obvious to everyone that Batman did not like Nightwing but they worked so well together that it wasn't shocking that they knew each other better than anyone let on. Maybe it was a few years back. Clark could recall a time for a few months were Batman was quicker to anger, and thinking back, it coincided with Nightwing's emergence in the vigilante sphere. Something still felt off, something missing, but few things explained the animosity from Batman, as well as Nightwing's hope that they'd have been on better terms since something happened a while ago. Was it actually possible that Batman was bitter about their breakup?