Work Text:
Here is the thing.
When we think of the Dark Knight the first thought that comes to mind is that he’s fucking scary.
The second is that, for the life of him, he can’t stop being the most cautious (read paranoid) member of the Justice League. Nobody really knows where caution ends and paranoia begins with Batman. At some point, everyone simply stopped trying to figure it out.
The man has contingency plans for alien invasions, magical catastrophes, rogue artificial intelligences, interdimensional threats, and, somehow, situations that haven't even happened yet. If there is a disaster with a one percent chance of occurring, chances are Batman already has a file on it, three backup plans, and a fourth emergency option hidden somewhere in the Batcave.
The truly frightening part?
His plans usually work.
Which means nobody can even complain about it. Well, they do complain.
Constantly.
Mostly because discovering that Batman has spent weeks - or months - thinking about how to stop you if you ever lose control isn't exactly flattering.
Everyone who has met the Bat can tell you with utmost certainty that he’s extremely serious - about everything -, that he likes to scare people by hiding in the shadows (with the excuse of being a training of spatial awareness) and that he has an extensive set of rules, and becomes very angry if one of them is broken. Which usually means scarier.
Nobody knows how he manages it. One second the room is empty. The next, Batman is standing behind you.
Not walking.
Not arriving.
Just... there.
Like a particularly judgmental cryptid. Even Superman, who can hear heartbeats from miles away, has been startled by him. More than once. Sometimes, when he does that to Hal, Barry can see why he does it so freaking much. It is hilarious.
Batman considers this perfectly normal training, but everyone else considers it a public menace.
The point is, the Dark Knight has spent years cultivating an image. Whether intentional or not, he has become a living urban legend. Criminals tell stories about him. Police officers lower their voices when discussing him. Children dress up as him for Halloween. And somehow, despite knowing exactly who and what he is, the Justice League isn't entirely immune to the effect either.
Because Batman doesn't just command attention. People instinctively straighten up and reconsider every decision they've made in the last twenty-four hours when they are under his attention.
There is no time where Batman isn’t menacing. So he doesn’t need help to be intimidating or frightening. A neutral Batman is intimidating. An annoyed Batman is frightening. An angry Batman is enough to make hardened criminals reconsider their life choices.
But right now?
Right now he is terrifying.
Not because he's yelling (Batman rarely yells).
Not because he's threatening anyone (he doesn't need to).
This is completely different.
Looking at him right now can give you a chill that originates at the base of your spine. The kind of chill you only experience in situations of extreme fear.
XXXXXXXXXXX
That day, the Justice League had a scheduled meeting where all the members were summoned. Usually, only the core members would meet to record some protocols, discuss diplomatic matters, review threats, negotiate treaties with other species, and deal with the endless administrative nightmare that came with protecting an entire planet.
Except, once every month, all of the Leaguers would be in attendance. The meetings were longer, louder and significantly more chaotic. Barry was ecstatic when this kind of meeting happened because it meant he would not be the last one to arrive.
Thank God.
Being chronically late was much less embarrassing when half the League was also filtering into the room. So he could take his time, get some snacks, drink some vitamin-enhanced juice and chat with his friends. And the most important, avoid Batman's judgmental stare.
You know.
The essentials.
The first one he encountered was Diana. She was the Princess of Themyscira - a secluded island. Hence the occasional moments where she struggled with modern expressions and slang. Not that it ever stopped Barry from talking with her. Diana was one of the easiest people in the League to be around. She was kind. Patient. Possessed impossibly high moral standards. And she loved children.
So whenever Barry couldn't stop himself from rambling about his nephew for twenty minutes straight, Diana would simply listen with a genuine smile. Sometimes she even asked questions. Barry suspected she secretly enjoyed the stories.
Hal Jordan, AKA Green Lantern, was not on Earth with the frequency Barry would like, but even then they remained good friends.
They understood each other.
Shared the same sense of humor.
And possessed roughly the same level of impulse control.
Which was to say none.
The major difference was that where Hal lacked a healthy sense of danger when it came to their resident bat, Barry had entirely too much of it. Hal would casually call Batman "Spooky" directly to his face.
Repeatedly.
And survive.
Barry still had no explanation for this.
It was like watching someone poke a tiger with a stick and somehow escape without being eaten. It stressed him out every single time. It's not surprising they didn't interact much outside of work.
Clark was an entirely different matter.
Clark Kent was kind to a fault. So kind that he would stop in the middle of a fight to rescue a cat stuck in a damn tree, and somehow still win the fight afterward. He smiled at everyone. Talked to everyone. Remembered birthdays, names, the names of your pets. Honestly, it was a little ridiculous. But there was only one person in the League that could visibly improve Superman's mood simply by entering the room. And that person was none other than Batman.
The scary.
Moody.
Cryptid vigilante of Gotham City.
Barry would never understand it. Clark's eyes would immediately brighten. His posture would relax. His smile would become more genuine. Like seeing Batman was somehow the best part of his day. Meanwhile Batman would simply nod, maybe grunt. Occasionally answer with a complete sentence if the stars aligned correctly.
Yet Clark always looked delighted.
They were complete opposites. The kind of opposites Barry couldn't imagine working.
And he had absolutely no idea how Superman got so freaking happy whenever Batman appeared. The man wouldn't smile back. Wouldn't initiate conversations. Wouldn't contribute much when Clark started rambling. Yet he listened.
And that was significant.
Because Batman had a strict no-nonsense attitude toward anything unrelated to work while aboard the Watchtower. The fact that he willingly listened to Clark's stories was enough evidence for Barry that there was something more to their relationship than work and Clark's naturally friendly personality.
So when, in the middle of the meeting, the alarms suddenly activated and the lights shifted to emergency mode, Barry didn't imagine he was about to get some answers.
The room moved instantly.
Years of training took over.
All members started moving in practiced groups, each according to their designated role during large-scale emergencies. There were the evacuation and rescue teams. Those responsible for getting civilians out safely. Those who remained in the rear to provide protection for both civilians and heroes. There were medical support units. Communication specialists. Magic users distributed among the essential teams in case supernatural complications appeared.
Last, but not least, there were the heavy hitters.
Usually composed of some of the core League members like Superman, Aquaman, Green Lantern, Wonder Woman, Batman and Flash.
And all of that military discipline had been designed, practiced, refined and protocolled by Batman. So even though Barry was scared of the man, he respected him immensely.
XXXXXXXXXXX
The battle was gruesome.
Starro - an ancient telepathic alien starfish, the first villain ever faced by the Justice League, and notorious for creating mind-controlling spores - had returned to Earth in full force.
The city turned into a chaotic battlefield.
Citizens. Aliens. Heroes. Victims under mind control. Everywhere Barry looked there was another crisis demanding attention. The worst part was that many of Starro's soldiers weren't willing participants. They were victims. Which meant the League couldn't simply hit harder. They had to be careful, precise and controlled.
That made everything ten times harder.
Nevertheless, after what felt like an eternity, they finally started freeing individuals from Starro's control. The tide was turning. Then everything went wrong.
Barry had just arrived near Hal and the others when he saw it.
One of Starro's high-ranking soldiers launched an attack, making a nearby building explode. And the only person beneath it was Batman.
For one terrible second, Barry's heart stopped. The terror of losing a cherished colleague flooded through his veins.
Batman wasn't just a teammate. He was a cornerstone of the League. The person everyone relied on. The person who always had a plan. And now an entire building was collapsing on top of him.
In the milliseconds Barry prepared to move, Superman was already gone.
So fast Barry couldn't follow.
Honestly, he doubted even Wonder Woman could.
One moment Clark was beside them.
The next he wasn't. Then he was back with Batman secured safely in his arms. The entire rescue had happened so quickly that Barry barely registered it.
But he did register Clark's expression.
And immediately wished he hadn't.
Superman was furious. Not annoyed. Not upset.
Furious.
His entire body was rigid. Like steel given life. Barry could practically feel the anger rolling off him in waves. The air around him seemed heavier. Dangerous. And suddenly Barry remembered that Superman wasn't just nice.
He was powerful. Terrifyingly powerful.
On the other hand, Batman appeared entirely unbothered.
Which was frankly insane. The man had almost died. An entire building had collapsed on him. And yet the first thing he did after touching the ground was march directly toward Starro's high ranking soldier with the obvious intention of interrogating him.
No concern for himself. No acknowledgement of the rescue. Just straight back to work.
Typical.
Barry knew how terrifying Batman could be. There had been times he found himself on the receiving end of his death glare (read certified Batglare). Yet nothing prepared him for the sight of a completely livid Superman hovering silently behind the Dark Knight like some wrathful guardian spirit.
His eyes glowed a dangerous red. Enough to remind everyone exactly what they could do. The threat - no, the promise - of incineration hung silently in the air. And suddenly Batman wasn't the scariest person there anymore. The soldier noticed too.
Although he was intimidated by Batman, he was utterly terrified of Superman. Questions barely left Batman's mouth before answers came rushing out. No hesitation. No lies. The soldier kept glancing toward the looming Kryptonian shadow behind him.
Like looking away might get him vaporized.
If Barry had been scared before, now he was frightened. Because when Batman finally seemed satisfied with the answers and turned toward the League for an update, Superman changed instantly.
Instantly.
One second he looked ready to tear through armies. The next he was Clark again. Gentle, quiet and approachable.
Like he hadn't just spent ten minutes looking completely murderous.
And yet again, Batman didn't seem to notice. Or maybe he did and let it be. Which was somehow even scarier.
Barry was glad he wasn't the only one disturbed.
Hal and Arthur looked horrified. Several nearby heroes looked horrified. At least he wasn't losing his mind alone.
For the rest of the day, Clark remained firmly attached to Batman's side.
Not obviously. Not enough for Batman to comment, but close. On his right side, one step behind and watching everything. Like a very polite bodyguard. Or an extremely dangerous guard dog.
Barry wasn't sure which description was more accurate anymore.
Now he couldn't help but pity anyone who messed with Gotham's vigilante in the future. Because apparently they weren't just dealing with Batman. They were also dealing with Earth's strongest hero. A fact that Superman himself didn't seem interested in hiding anymore.
And that, my friends, made Batman even more scary.