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Clark didn’t know much about Gotham’s other vigilantes. He knew Bat-“I work alone”-man had a flock of birds over the years and was currently working with his fourth (fifth?) Robin. He knew there were other bat-themed vigilantes protecting the city, but only the Batgirls(?) and bird-themed vigilantes were Batman’s direct proteges (that was his working theory, at least). He knew that, despite the man’s theme and general attitude, Batman was far kinder than anyone gave him credit for and had a penchant for dry, witty quips that no one would believe came from him.
He also knew that the other Bats, despite being much more tolerant than Batman, were startlingly protective of their own, and no amount of fondness for a good joke was going to save any League member who was on the mission with Batman, himself included.
‘Rao help us,’ Clark thought as Diana dialed the Cave. He, Diana, Hal, and Barry were in the League’s main meeting room, huddled around the monitor, and Batman….
Clark turned his head just enough to catch the other man in his peripheral. He was sitting, still as stone, in his chair, and if Clark wasn’t religiously checking for his heartbeat, he would’ve thought he was nothing more than a doll.
The call finally connected and they were greeted with the smiling face of Nightwing.
≫Hi, welcome to the Batcave. My name is Nightwing and I’ll be your server for the night. What can I get you guys started with?≪ Nightwing chirped. His smile was the same as ever, light and lovely, but there was a slight hunch in his shoulders and a tightness winding through his body as he leaned against a chair.
“Yes, well,” Diana cleared her throat and Clark knew they were in for it, “The mission we completed had some complications.”
Nightwing’s face twisted.
“Everyone has returned whole,” Diana quickly continued, “and…mostly hale.”
≫What happened to Batman?≪ Nightwing asked curtly.
“He’s perfectly fine,” Hal said, stepping to the side. After a beat, the rest of them split away from the camera, revealing Batman sitting far in the background. Nightwing’s mask narrowed.
≫Uh-huh. Then why are you all acting like that?≪ He asked.
Diana stepped back into the center of the camera. “During our fight, a sorcerer hit Batman with a spell, and while we were able to capture the sorcerer, they said that they were not able to reverse it. We were told a way to mitigate it is—”
The audio peaked, a cacophony of boisterous, argumentative voices coming in, and Clark winced at the noise. Nightwing jabbed a button in front of him and the voices quieted.
≫Sorry, give me a sec,≪ he said, his smile tight. He half-turned around and Clark noticed the three figures tussling in the background of the Cave. Or the two figures tussling and the third that was standing slightly off to the side of them. He recognized Robin and Red Robin, but with their back to the camera, he wasn’t sure who the third person was. The individual was large and muscular with tousled, dark hair and tight, black body armour.
≫Hey, baby birds, I’m kinda on a call right now so if you could keep it down?≪
The mystery individual (was that the Red Hood?!) turned towards Nightwing, Red Robin halfway under his arm. Red Robin’s hands were clasped around Red Hood’s arm, a leg desperately kicking at Red Hood’s shin. Robin stood a few feet away from them, his arms crossed and shoulders hunched up defensively around his ears as he glared at Nightwing.
≫Just turn the volume up,≪ Red Hood scowled.
≫I have a migraine,≪ Nightwing said tightly before he turned back to the screen. ≫Sorry, Wonder Woman. You were saying?≪
“To mitigate the spell—”
≫What was the spell, exactly?≪ Nightwing interrupted.
Clark closed his eyes for a moment and took a long, deep breath. “It’s a spell that…blocks out the senses,” Clark said, and Nightwing’s demeanor shifted. Not a single part of his body moved, and maybe that was what tipped Clark off.
≫Sense deprivation, huh?≪ Nightwing said.
“As I was saying,” Diana cut in, “To mitigate the spell, Batman needs to be in contact with the person he trusts most. According to the sorcerer, whoever is represented by this symbol—ah, where’d it go?”
Clark immediately patted down the hidden pockets lining his suit, as did the others. Nothing. Well, if push came to shove, he was confident enough in his memory to be able to recreate it.
“Shit, did Arrow have it?” Hal frowned.
Clark didn’t groan because it wasn’t something Superman did, but if he let out a soft sigh, that was neither here nor there.
“Flash, go check with Arrow and Canary and I’ll go to Aquaman and Hawkgirl,” Clark said. He’d rather call them, but all four of them had the unfortunate habit of ignoring League messages immediately after a mission (he, Barry, and Hal were also guilty of it). Not for the first time, he wished Martian Manhunter was there instead of on another planet with Green Lantern (a different one, of course).
“Uh, turns out we won’t have to chase anyone down,” Barry said, passing a scrap of fabric over to Diana. “Sorry, forgot I had it on me.”
Clark didn’t sigh (it was a very near thing, though) but Diana did, and Hal thumped Barry on the back.
“Sorry, sorry,” Barry apologized, ducking his head.
Diana sighed again and held up the fabric to the camera. “None of us recognize this symbol and we were hoping—”
BANG!
A bō staff slammed into the console next to Nightwing, causing him to flinch violently. Loud, angry shouts from the other Bats suddenly poured out of the speakers. Nightwing started twitching.
≫Could you give me a moment?≪ Nightwing asked, aggressively pressing a button. The sound cut out. Clark, because he was nosy at heart, stretched out his hearing to Gotham. He didn’t know where the Cave was exactly, but it was easy to listen in with the vigilantes arguing as raucously as they were.
On the screen, Nightwing grabbed the bō staff and stormed towards the others. He used the staff to vault himself up, legs wrapping around Red Hood’s neck. Nightwing twisted his torso and legs, flipping Red Hood onto his back with an audible thud. He rolled off of him and, before the other two could scatter, grabbed Robin’s ankle and slammed him into Red Robin like a makeshift club. Red Robin crumpled to the ground and curled up into a ball.
“Unhand me, Nightwing! I have done nothing wrong!” Robin shouted.
In response, Nightwing reeled back and slammed him onto the ground. Robin’s body bounced in a concerning manner and he went concerningly still. In two steps, Nightwing was back by Red Robin’s side and swinging the bō at him like a cane. With each dull, reverberating hit, Red Robin curled tighter and tighter into himself before in a burst of movement, he twisted and grabbed the staff with both hands, and attempted to fling it away.
It was a brave move that unfortunately didn’t work as Nightwing had an iron grip on the staff and it left his midsection open for a solid kick to the gut that sent him rolling.
“Mercy, mercy,” Red Robin hacked out, curling back up again, “I’m sorry for being loud.”
Nightwing stalked towards him, a predator approaching his prey, when Red Hood careened into him out of nowhere, sending them both tumbling to the ground. The bō staff clattered to the ground, echoing throughout the cave as Nightwing and Red Hood traded hits on the cave floor.
“Would it kill you to chill out?” Red Hood snarled through his modulator, having put on his helmet sometime after Nightwing’s first attack. His words were accompanied with a hand around Nightwing’s neck, slamming him to the ground. Nightwing grasped at Red Hood’s wrist and twisted in a way that made Clark uncomfortable, somehow getting his legs up and around Red Hood’s arm and trapping him in an armbar.
Red Hood let out a pained, warbled yelp. “Fuck, fuck, I tap out you’re gonna break my arm, you piece of shit,” he hissed.
Nightwing rolled off of him and to his feet in one fluid motion, the bō staff mysteriously back in his hands.
“Wait wait wait wait, I tapped out,” Red Hood said, awkwardly propping himself up on his elbows. He seemed to be favoring one side. “Let’s calm—”
Nightwing swung the bō staff at a speed that would’ve made the very best baseball players jealous. It cracked against Red Hood’s helmet with a sick sound, flinging him to the side like a rag doll. Red Hood shakily pushed himself to his hands and knees, a low groan coming from him. Even with the helmet, Clark wouldn’t be surprised if he was concussed.
Nightwing was at his side in seconds and sent a sharp kick into his stomach before slamming the bō down onto his back, sending him to the ground.
“Would it kill you guys,” Nightwing said, “to listen to me once in a while?” His tone was as even as if he was at a Sunday dinner instead of beating the life out of one of Gotham’s most fiercest Rogues (was he still a Rogue if he was in the Batcave?). “All I asked was for you guys to keep it down because I have a migraine, and even if you didn’t care about me enough to stay quiet because of that, you could at least have the decency to realize that I’m on a call with the Justice League.”
At this point, Red Hood had curled up into a fetal position not unlike Red Robin’s, his arms wrapped protectively around his head. Clark wasn’t sure how useful it was as Nightwing kept kicking him onto his other side to hit him with the bō like a twisted version of flipping a pancake.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please stop,” Red Hood coughed out, his voice coming out strangled through the modulator. It was only when his apologies devolved into quiet whimpers that Nightwing finally threw the bō to the ground.
“Next time I talk to—actually, there better not be a next time or I won’t be so lenient,” Nightwing scowled, his hands on his hips as he stared down the downed vigilantes.
‘That was him being lenient?!’ Clark thought as Nightwing walked back over to the camera. He dropped into the chair and pressed a button. Clark winced as he started hearing double from the Cave, quickly retracting his hearing.
≫Sorry about that,≪ Nightwing smiled, massaging his temple, ≫sometimes they get a little rowdy when B’s been gone for a while and need to be disciplined.≪
“Of course,” Diana said. Clark didn’t know if she was as unfazed as she seemed or if she was just rolling with it.
≫You were saying something about a symbol?≪ Nightwing prodded.
Diana nodded and held up the fabric again. “Do you recognize it? We’re hoping to find this individual so Batman won’t be stuck like this until Zatanna returns.”
≫Constantine isn’t available?≪ Nightwing asked absently, his mask narrowed thoughtfully as he leaned closer to the screen.
Hal shook his head. “Can’t reach him.”
Nightwing’s mask widened. ≫Oh. Oh.≪ He leaned back into the chair, slightly sliding down in it.
“Do you recognize the symbol?” Clark asked urgently.
≫Y-Yeah, it’s…I’ll be there in three,≪ Nightwing mumbled. He sounded lost. He stumbled to his feet and slowly lumbered out of frame. ≫Red Robin, you’re in charge of patrol—≪ The call ended. A black screen stared back at them, reflecting their shocked faces until a photo slide of landscapes in the Netherlands appeared. Barry had taken those photos.
“Uh, I’m uh, not going crazy, right? W-We all saw that, right?“ Barry asked, head swiveling back and forth between all of them.
“Who would’ve thought that Bat’s Golden Boy had a few screws loose?” Hal chuckled.
Clark laughed awkwardly. Would it be strange for him to say it had been a little unsettling?
≫≫ Recognized. B0-1, Nightwing.
Clark’s eyes flickered towards the door. “He’s here,” he murmured.
The door slid open without a sound as Nightwing ran in, silent and graceful like a panther. His head was fixed firmly in Batman’s direction, the lines of his body tight.
“You got here fast. If only Flash could take a page out of your book,” Hal joked. It didn’t sound like his heart was in it. Barry didn’t even pretend to be offended.
“He’s…alive, right?” Nightwing asked softly, slowly creeping over to Batman’s chair. He moved as if he was trying not to scare away a wild animal.
“Yeah, everything’s working like it’s supposed to,” Clark answered, floating over to Nightwing’s side, “His heart rate’s a little faster than it usually is but other than that, everything’s about the same.”
“And I just have to touch him?”
“Yes,” Diana said, and Clark couldn’t help but notice she was still over by the monitors. Maybe she wasn’t as unaffected by Nightwing’s display as he thought.
Nightwing reached out a hand, cautious and unsure, and slowly, slowly, lowered it onto Batman’s shoulder. Batman tensed and alarm bells went off in Clark’s head. Everything in Batman’s body was going haywire, and logically, he realized it was probably because he was being overwhelmed with sensations again, but it made him worry.
“B?” Nightwing asked, his voice painfully hesitant.
And like a reset button was hit, the tension bled out of Batman. “Nightwing,” he said, turning his head just enough for their eyes to meet.
Clark didn’t realize how much he had missed Batman’s voice until that moment (which was strange to think about considering there had been plenty of times when they had gone much longer without seeing or talking to each other).
“I’m glad you’re okay,” Nightwing said, voice wobbly.
“Hn,” Batman said. Clark could hear his hands clenching and unclenching underneath his cape. “What happened?”
Diana strode over to Clark’s side. “That sorcerer hit you with a sensory deprivation spell. They were unable to reverse it themselves but told us the effects could be nullified as long as you are in contact with the person you trust the most.”
“I dunno, I thought the sorcerer said it was the person he loved the most,” Hal teased, also making his way over. Batman shot Hal a dry look (it was a miniscule change in his expression, but if you knew where to look like Clark did, it was clear as day).
“Zatanna said she’ll come as soon as she can,” Clark said, “We couldn’t reach Constantine.”
Batman snorted, or made a sound as close to a snort as he ever got. “I wouldn’t want him even if you could reach him.”
“He’s not that bad,” Barry said, still standing by the monitors.
Batman got to his feet with a flourish and fixed Barry with a look that said a thousand words. “I’ll return to Gotham in the meantime, then. Keep me updated on Zatanna,” Batman said.
Diana nodded. “Of course. Rest well, friend. I am glad you are alright.”
“Yes, let us know if you need anything,” Clark added. He wanted to wring his hands or scan over Batman a million more times but Superman didn’t do the former and Batman hated it when he did the latter. For someone who was as much of a mother hen like he was, he didn’t like the shoe being on the other foot.
“We’ll be fine. Us Gothamites are made out of tough stuff,” Nightwing chirped, waving them off with his free hand.
“Yeah, yeah, we know you guys bathe in radiation over there,” Hal said, “You can enjoy as much of it as you want while you’re on bed rest.”
“Bed rest?” Batman spat out the words as if they were a curse.
“Now, now, B, let’s get back. I kinda sorta maybe beat up the others just a bit—don’t look like that, it really was just a little bit—and I’d feel better if I was back monitoring comms,” Nightwing said, steering Batman to the door.
“Good night,” Clark blurted out, and the others also bid their farewells. Nightwing gave them a salute and a big smile.
“We’ll debrief at the next meeting,” Batman said, and swept out of the room.
Clark, because he was nosy, stretched out his hearing to follow the dynamic duo.
“Soooo~ I’m the person you looooooo~oooooove the most in the whole entire universe?” Nightwing teased.
Batman let out a grunt that Clark couldn’t quite interpret. Nightwing laughed, light and lovely, clearly able to understand whatever Batman meant.
“I’m going to be so obnoxious,” Nightwing chortled, “Whenever the others start talking about your favorite child and people start saying Black Bat, I’m going to bring this up.”
Batman let out another indecipherable sound. They went silent.
“And…I guess I’m the person you…trust the most…in the universe?”
Clark’s eyes swiveled to the door and he blinked and he was staring past it and following the duo through the halls.
Batman lifted up a hand and ruffled Nightwing’s hair. “Let’s go home, chum,” he said so quietly, that if Clark wasn’t listening as intently as he was, he might’ve missed it.
Nightwing ducked his head, a shy, sweet grin forming on his reddening face. His hand slid from Batman’s shoulder, up his arm, and intertwined with the hand still in his hair, bringing it down to swing between them. “Okay~ can we stop and get Batburger?”
“Instead of going to the Cave, you want to Zeta to the city so you can get Batburger?” Batman asked, exasperated.
“Pretty please? With cherries on top?” Nightwing pouted, no doubt making the largest, sweetest puppy eyes known to man under his mask.
Batman looked away.
“I’ve just had a really rough week while you were gone…and I wanted to spend some quality time with my dad without fighting for your attention.” Nightwing’s voice got quieter with every word until Clark didn’t even know if Batman could hear him.
Batman sighed. “Fine.”
Nightwing perked up immediately. “Really?! You’re—”
“Kal-El.”
Clark startled, blinking rapidly until his vision refocused on what was directly in front of him. Diana frowned back at him, arms crossed in front of her.
“You weren’t spying on them, were you?” She asked, and Clark cursed her a little in his heart for being so intuitive.
“Of course not,” he said, perhaps a tad too quickly, because Hal threw an arm over his shoulder and dragged him down to the ground (when had he started floating?).
“Big Blue, spying on people? What has the world come to?” He joked.
“What were they saying?” Barry asked, appearing at his vacant side.
“Guys, I wasn’t spying on them,” he repeated, shrugging Hal’s arm off, “And I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to sleep in my own bed after all of this.”
“Avoiding the question, I see,” Hal hummed.
“I just said that I wasn’t spying on them!” Clark said.
“The lady doth protest too much, methinks,” Barry snickered.
“There’s one way we can know for sure,” Diana said, grabbing her Lasso from her belt.
“Of course you won’t say no to a quick lasso, right?” Hal said.
“Unless you really were spying on them?” Barry added, eyes wide in faux-innocence.
Clark rolled his eyes. They were pulling his leg for sure, at this point. “Alright, I hope you’ve all had your fun now. I’m heading home. I’ll see you all next week and hopefully no sooner.”
Clark left the room to the tune of a chorus of farewells. In a blink of an eye (okay, it was a little longer than that), he was back in his apartment in Metropolis, and one speed-cleaning and bedtime-routine later, he was curled up in bed (his bed, finally) around a giant Superman plush. It was a gag gift from Lois, but if it so happened to be comfy enough for him to actually use it, that was no one’s business but his own, okay?
Of course, it was only then, when all the adrenaline had bled out and the exhaustion kicked in (even he got tired) and his body let down its defenses that it clicked.
‘Batman is Nightwing’s dad?!’