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The Justice League had been pursuing Batman for months.
The last thing they expected was for the infamous villain to drop himself off on their doorstep, holding a hair of handcuffs, which he offered out to Superman.
“Go on. Arrest me.”
Superman didn’t move. “This is a trick, isn’t it?”
The cold look in Batman’s eyes was enough to make Superman freeze in place. Then, he took out a shard of gleaming green rock from his belt, stabbing it into Superman’s shoulder. Groaning in pain, Superman doubled over, the unfamiliar mineral doing horrific damage to his body, precisely as Batman expected it to.
“Is that enough for you to arrest me?” Batman asked. “Please, get on with it. I don’t have all day.”
Green Lantern moved forwards, taking the handcuffs and locking them around Batman’s wrists, bringing him into the League HQ. Despite being a masterful escape artist, Batman made no attempt to free himself.
He had to speak to the League, and bringing himself into their custody was the easiest way to do it.
Batman had been sitting in the interrogation room for almost thirty minutes, before Superman and the Martian Manhunter entered. About what he expected, honestly; the leader of the Justice League and the resident telepath.
How painfully pedestrian…
Superman seemed wary as he approached. Batman resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “I do not have any more Kryptonite,” Batman said, which was only partially a lie. The rest was in his lair.
… maybe calling his hideout a ‘lair’ wasn’t helping him against the villain allegations.
“He is telling the truth,” the Martian Manhunter said. “The rest is located in his hideout.”
Right. Telepath.
That made the next part easier, at the very least.
“I have no intention of harming any other Justice League member,” Batman said. “I am here because I have crucial information for you.”
“That is also truthful,” the Martian Manhunter interjected. “He believes that the information he has is pertinent to our work.”
“Do you consent to the Martian Manhunter probing your mind?” Superman asked.
“Is that necessary?”
“It ensures that the information we get from you is completely truthful,” Superman explained. “It would make us more likely to believe what you’re here to tell us.”
As much as Batman hated the idea of the Martian Manhunter probing through his mind, he had to admit, he understood the Justice League’s position.
“Alright. Do what you need to.” Batman said, with a wave of his hand.
Though he attempted to remain calm, the sight of the Martian’s green fingers reaching towards his head still made a spike of fear run through him.
Maybe, just maybe, this had been a foolish idea after all.
Two gunshots that changed a life.
Maniacal laughter ringing through the streets of Gotham.
A clown that played the role of a hero while terrorising Gotham’s citizens on the side.
A boy, lying beaten and bloody, the clown standing over him.
A coffin. Closed. A single gravestone.
A grieving father, standing alone in his home, desperate for a way to put an end to the clown’s reign of terror.
A man who looked… all too familiar.
“... Bruce Wayne,” the Martian Manhunter said softly, as Bruce came out of the memories.
Bruce nodded. “Yes.”
“Your son… he didn’t die in a car accident.”
“No.”
“He was killed.”
“Yes.”
“By the Joker.”
“Yes.”
“The Joker who is attempting to join the Justice League.”
A long pause.
“Yes. I couldn’t– I couldn’t let him hurt anyone else. Being a member of the Justice League…”
“It would give him too much power,” Superman concluded.
“Precisely.”
“You are not the villain he makes you out to be, are you?” the Martian Manhunter asked, his voice softer than Bruce expected.
Bruce shook his head. “I have made many mistakes, but I am not a villain.”
“If this man is as dangerous as he appears, more… drastic measures may be necessary,” Superman said. “Would you–”
“I am willing to do anything to break the Joker’s control over Gotham,” Bruce said, with a nod.
And he meant it.
Clark didn’t need J’onn to tell him that.