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Hal needed this job, and he wasn’t going to get it. He needed this job, but dozens of better-qualified, non-disabled individuals would get it way before Hal did. He was sitting in a lobby surrounded by intelligent and professional-looking people, and pigs would fly before he got this job.
See, here’s the thing: Hal was poor. He had a lot of student debt, a lot of medical bills, and his pay from the Air Force days was rapidly running dry. What the VA was providing was not enough to live on, not with all his conditions, and being a Green Lantern did not pay, though it did make holding a job very hard. So with a measly bachelor's in aerospace engineering, a leg brace that wasn’t paying for itself, and a dream, he was applying for a job at Wayne Enterprise’s new aerospace division.
When Hal was called in for his interview, he took a deep breath and stood. It was a long hobble from his chair to the door of the HR representative’s office, or maybe it just felt like it. Hal was still getting used to the brace and the shooting pain up his leg every time he took a step, but more than that, he was still getting used to the pitying stares that came with it.
The HR lady offered him a cautious smile as he hobbled past her. He smiled weakly back. Even if he wasn’t going to get this job, he wasn’t going to make a bad impression with one of the largest and most successful companies in the world.
Maybe if they pitied him enough they’d hire him as a janitor or something.
“Have a seat,” HR lady said, gently closing the door. She was halfway around her desk when Hal realized he wouldn’t be able to pull out the chair without losing his balance. He eyed its bulky cushions and missing armrests, and spent a split second debating whether it would be more embarrassing to fall over while trying to pull out a chair or to ask for help.
“Um,” he hesitated. “Could you pull this out for me? I can’t really bend my leg, so…” he trailed off. The HR lady blinked slowly and then smiled.
“Of course!” She agreed sunnily. “You know, these chairs are meant to be comfortable, but really they’re just ugly and heavy. Definitely not convenient for everybody.” She pulled the chair a little further away from her desk. “Is that good?” She asked.
“Yeah, that’s perfect,” Hal agreed. HR lady went back around her desk, and he sat down. The chair was still too close, really. He had to sit at an angle to have enough room, but HR lady was nice enough as it was; he didn’t need to bother her even more.
“Alright then, let’s get started.” HR lady said before launching into what had to be some kind of scripted introduction. “Good afternoon, Mr. Jordan. My name is Caroline Weng, and I’ll be conducting your interview today. You’re applying for a position as an engineer in Wayne Enterprise’s new division, Wayne Aerospace; is that correct?”
“Yes, Ms. Weng, that’s correct,” Hal agreed.
“Great! Now, I have your resume here, but before we start, what happened to your leg? If you don’t mind me asking, that is,” HR lady (or Weng, he supposed) inquired as she settled in across from Hal. Hal only barely managed to hold back a wince. He should have expected that question. It was the most obvious conversation starter Weng could have gone for. It would still be hard to answer.
“Well, ma’am,” he started, because if the military had taught him anything, it was manners.
“Oh please, call me Caroline,” Weng interrupted. Hal took a fortifying breath. Weng’s cheeriness was starting to grate on his nerves.
“Ok, well, I was a captain in the Air Force, and I was injured when my plane was shot down in enemy airspace. My seat failed to eject, so I went down with the plane, and here we are,” Hal explained. He tried for a good-natured chuckle and probably missed by a mile. Even today, almost five years later, talking about it still made his chest tighten and his eyes burn.
“I’m so sorry to hear that, Mr. Jordan, and thank you for your service,” Caroline said, her eyes shining with genuine sympathy. Hal hated it. He didn’t need sympathy; he needed a job. All the sympathy in the world wouldn’t make his resume look less pathetic.
“It is what it is,” Hal said weakly. He cleared his throat and continued, “That’s actually why I went to school for aerospace engineering. I figured if even the brightest minds at Lockheed Martin couldn’t get a plane right, then maybe I had a shot in the field.” Caroline laughed, and Hal’s heart lightened a bit. Ok, this was what he was good at: joking, making people smile, and getting them comfortable. That janitorial position was looking more and more possible by the second!
“That’s one way to think about it,” Caroline said, but she sounded amused rather than sarcastic, so Hal took it as a win.
“And, the thing is, there’s nothing I love more than the feeling of soaring high above the clouds. My disability means I can’t have that again, so I figured the next best thing was to give that to someone else. And I’d make sure I was giving it to them safely, so they wouldn’t end up in my position.”
“That’s a very honorable thing to do, Mr. Jordan. So is that why you applied to Caltech?”
“Sure is! In actuality, I was surprised that I got in. Growing up, I was painfully average in all of my classes, though I was best at math and physics. I started seeing a VA psychologist after I was discharged, and it turned out I’d apparently had ADHD that entire time. Once I started taking medication, I was suddenly a lot more academic than I’d been as a child. I’ve always loved science, but I’d never really had the patience for it. Enough adderall and everything started to make a little bit more sense.”
“I’m glad you were able to figure everything out. And it looks like you did well at Caltech too, graduating magna cum laude from one of the top aerospace engineering programs in the country. The jet you designed for one of your final exams was sold to Ferris Air. What made someone with your potential want to apply to Wayne Aerospace?”
Um, what? Hal thought. Somebody with my potential? Caroline waited patiently for his response, but Hal had bluescreened. “Could you clarify what you mean by that?” He said after a while.
“Of course!” Caroline agreed. “I meant that somebody with your resume could likely get a job at any aerospace company they please. Now I’m not saying we’ll necessarily hire you, but I think you have a real shot. So, what made you apply to a fledgling company like Wayne Aerospace rather than, say, Lockheed Martin?” The last part came with a teasing grin.
“Oh, well,” Hal blustered, trying to regain his footing. “I don’t really think Wayne Aerospace is a fledgling company. Wayne Enterprises is already highly successful in its other fields, and all a company really needs to take off is the right employees,” Hal said. He thought about adding a wink but decided that would be overkill.
“I suppose you’re correct, but you haven’t really answered my question,” Caroline responded.
“Yeah, that’s true,” Hal admitted. “Honestly, Caroline? I already applied to Lockheed Martin. I applied to Boeing, Ferris Air, LordTech, Rolls Royce… I even applied to LuthorCorp, if you can believe it.” Hal paused, took another breath. “And none of them hired me. Half of them didn’t even offer me an interview. Ferris Air did, but they practically laughed me back out the door at the end of the interview. So when I heard that WE was starting up an aerospace division and that you guys were hiring, I figured I had no chance. I mean, if Lockheed Martin wouldn’t talk to me,” he said, carrying on the joke to lighten the mood, “then somewhere like Wayne Enterprises would have to be crazy to even glance at my resume.”
“I’m… honestly incredibly surprised,” Caroline admitted. Hal shrugged.
“It is what it is. Do you feel better now that you know you’re my last-ditch effort?”
“Not really.”
“Oh.”
“I’ll tell you what, Harold,” Caroline said, leaning forward and resting her elbows on her desk. “I’m going to fast-track your resume to Mr. Fox and Mr. Wayne. They’re making all the final decisions on Wayne Aerospace’s initial team, and I think your resume deserves to be the first to cross their desks. Of course, this doesn’t mean you’ll be hired, but my colleagues and I have been conducting interviews for weeks, and you’re the first candidate who I’ve really thought would be a good fit. Your qualifications, your spirit, your history… I find you incredibly inspiring, and I think you’ve got potential to be an amazing engineer.”
“It’s Hal,” Hal said weakly, unable to muster up anything more.
“Are you ok with that?” Caroline asked.
“I… yes. Yes, I’m definitely ok with that,” Hal managed. And why wouldn’t he be? He’d walked into Wayne Enterprises that morning expecting to walk out with an offer to work at the front desk at best. He’d more realistically assumed he’d be walking out with polite but disappointing “no”s at his back.
HR lady might not be offering him a job, but she was offering him a chance, which was something he hadn’t had since graduating from Caltech.
“This probably seems crazy, huh?” Caroline asked, laughing. “To tell you the truth, I think it’s crazy that we’re managing to snatch you up! How lucky is that, huh?”
“Lucky,” Hal agreed.
“One last thing before I send off my report,” Caroline said. “Wayne Aerospace will only be opening a small office here in Coast City. Would you be willing to relocate to Gotham if we asked you to?” Hal took only a brief second to consider.
He needed this job.
“Yes, I would be,” he answered.
“Great,” Caroline said, beginning to type rapidly on her computer. Hal didn’t move, not wanting to leave if it wasn’t time yet. A long, tense minute later, Caroline paused. “I sincerely hope to see you again soon, Mr. Jordan. And good luck.”
“Thanks,” Hal said. He took that as the dismissal it was and rose to leave. “Should I send someone else in?” He asked just to be polite.
“Don’t bother,” Caroline responded. “I’m going to send this first.”
Hal was at that point so lost for words that he did something he would otherwise never do: he stood up quietly and unobtrusively, and hobbled unceremoniously away.
(-0-)(-0-)(-0-)
Hal looked up at the smoggy Gotham sky and tried to rationalize his being there.
First, he’d gone to an interview for a job he was never going to get. Then he’d gotten through maybe ⅕ of the interview before HR lady had decided that he was hot shit and sent his resume off to the big dogs (was that even allowed?). Then he’d waited.
Three days later, his old commanding officer, Colonel Thomas, had called him and said that he’d received a call from Lucius Fox himself. Hal had put Thomas down as a reference on a whim, never expecting to get far enough in the hiring process for his references to be called. It hadn’t occurred to him even after leaving Wayne Enterprises that fateful day that his original assumption had been wrong.
“I’m proud of you, Jordan,” Colonel Thomas had said over the phone. “You were a great soldier, and I think you’ll be even greater at a place where you can really put that mind of yours to good use.”
Another week of waiting, and he’d received a call from Bruce Wayne’s personal secretary (a nice woman named Rosemary) to schedule a secondary interview that the woman had dubbed “just a formality.”
“If you ask me,” she’d said, “you already have the job. They’ve been looking for the right person for this for months. You’re the first to get this far, so that’s a really good sign for you.”
“And what is the position, exactly?” Hal had asked, because there was no way they were going through all this trouble just to hire a random engineer.
“Head Engineer of Wayne Aerospace, of course,” Rosemary had answered, sounding possibly more confused than Hal was. Hal, who had been bluescreening for the second time in as many weeks. “Why? Isn’t that what you applied for? Have I got the wrong number again? Oh, Mr. Wayne’s really going to kill me this time.” Rosemary’s panicking was the only thing that snapped Hal out of his daze.
“No, Rosemary, I think you’ve got the right number,” Hal had said. “I’m a little forgetful sometimes, is all, and I wanted to make sure I remembered exactly who was calling. This is important, you see, and you’re doing such a wonderful job that I wanted to get every detail.”
“Oh, really? Mr. Jordan, that’s so kind of you!”
“It’s nothing, Rosemary, really.”
He’d been called away for a Lantern mission, so it was another two weeks before he was in Gotham, standing at the foot of Wayne Enterprises headquarters, and looking up. It was the tallest building in the city, and he was going to one of the top floors for an interview for a position he wouldn’t have dared dream of
Head Engineer for Wayne Aerospace.
What the actual fuck was his life?
He walked into the lobby.
His leg was feeling good that day, so he barely limped as he made his way over to the front desk. As he crossed the incredibly expansive lobby, it occurred to him that he would probably have to buy a whole new wardrobe for this job. He was in his best suit, and still his stood out like a pale thumb amongst the crisp attire of the lobby’s other occupants.
“How can I help you?” Receptionist man said, looking harried and as if he’d rather be anywhere else.
“Hi, I’m Hal Jordan. I have an interview scheduled for 10 o’clock?” He said, trying not to sound too sheepish, which was hard when he felt like melting into the granite floors. Hal really hoped his anxiety was making him imagine the exasperated sigh receptionist man let out.
“Can I see your ID?” Receptionist man asked.
“Yeah, sure,” Hal said, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket and handing the receptionist his ID. The picture on it was ugly. Hal tried not to notice.
“It looks like that’ll be on the 105th floor,” receptionist man said, returning Hal’s ID and handing him a small plastic guest badge. “Scan this in the elevator to gain access to the executive floors. The main elevator bay will take you as far as floor 100, and then you’ll have to get off and get on the executive elevator. The elevators are around the other side of these desks.” Hal nodded and said a quick thank you, barely refraining from making some kind of joke about the number of times receptionist man had said “elevator.”
“Oh, and good luck. You’ll need it.” That time, Hal didn’t bother to respond.
He followed receptionist man’s instructions. His stomach sank as the elevator climbed and climbed and climbed. He wasn’t afraid of heights. He’d been in the Air Force, and now he was a Green Lantern for shit’s sake. He was afraid of whatever executive was waiting for him on the 105th floor of a building that was 106 floors tall.
The elevator doors pinged open to reveal what appeared to be another lobby. This one was smaller than the first and was home to only a small sitting area, a desk that housed an older woman, and two big oak doors.
Hal shivered. Whoever was waiting for him on the other side of those doors would change his life.
“Oh, you must be Mr. Jordan!” The older woman said.
“Rosemary, darling, is that you?” Hal asked, recognizing her voice. This was what he was good at: joking, making people smile, and getting them to relax. When all else failed, he fell back on his charisma. That was probably why Batman didn’t trust him. Rosemary laughed.
“Yes, Mr. Jordan, it’s me.”
“How have you been? I hope Mr. Wayne’s been treating you right. If not, I know a guy who just might be looking for a secretary very soon,” Hal winked. Rosemary laughed again.
“Don’t get too far ahead of yourself, Mr. Jordan; you’ll get a big head.”
“Oh, I wasn’t talking about me. Rumor has it, Oliver Queen’s old secretary has just retired. I’m thinking of applying if this doesn’t work out,” Hal said. He was mostly joking, but he was seriously considering applying to be Ollie’s secretary if this didn’t work out. He was getting incredibly desperate. The past weeks had been difficult enough, having to subsist on Cup-o-Noodles and crashing his best friend’s couch. Barry was nice, but being the Flash, he could barely afford to feed his own appetite, let alone Hal’s, and Hal refused to burden him even more than he already had.
Actually, Barry was the only reason he looked anything close to presentable. His friend had taken his suit to the dry cleaner and paid for it to be washed. He owed Barry a few dozen pizzas for that one.
“I’m sure it will, Mr. Jordan. If nothing else, you’re a charmer, so Mr. Wayne will like you. And at the end of the day, Mr. Wayne is still Mr. Fox’s boss, so Mr. Fox can hate you all he likes and you might still get the job!” Rosemary comforted, clueless that his words had made Hal’s confidence drop all the way back down to the first floor. “Have a seat, and I’ll let you know when they’re ready to see you.”
Hal did as she said, feeling a little light-headed. Behind those two big oak doors sat Lucius Fox and Bruce Wayne. Lucius, the head of Wayne Tech, and Bruce, the CEO and majority shareholder of Wayne Enterprises, were the two most powerful in the company. They were rich as fuck too, Bruce being one of the ten richest people alive. And he likely would be the richest if he didn’t spend so much on charity and personal projects.
Looking back, Hal should have known that was where all of this was heading. Caroline had mentioned she was sending his resume to the top. Colonel Thomas had received a call from Fox personally. Bruce Wayne’s personal secretary had been the person to call him and schedule the meeting.
Screw the falling back on his charisma thing; his sporadic yet pervasive inability to draw accurate conclusions from objectively obvious context clues was probably why Batman couldn’t stand him.
Shit.
What was he going to do?
Well, actually that was simple. He was going to go into that office and give the best damn interview of all time. He was a Green Lantern! He was nothing if not willful. He would make this work, and he would get this fucking job.
“Mr. Jordan? Mr. Wayne and Mr. Fox will see you now,” Rosemary called. Hal smiled at her. “Good luck, Mr. Jordan, though I don’t think you’ll need it.”
“Thanks, Rosemary,” he said genuinely. And without further ado, he pushed open the office door.
“Mr. Jordan!” Bruce (fucking) Wayne exclaimed. “So nice to meet you.” The man came to his feet and met Hal near the door. He extended a hand. Hal shook it. Since when did billionaire playboys have so many calluses?
“Mr. Wayne,” Hal replied. “Thank you for having me.”
“Oh, pshaw. I should be the one thanking you! You’re doing me a real favor, applying for the job. It’s been months of trying to find the perfect person for this position, and then you come along! You’re a blessing from above, Harold,” Wayne said with a dazzling grin. Then, after a moment, “Can I call you Harold?”
“It’s Hal, actually,” Hal responded. “And I really think you must be exaggerating. Surely the other candidates weren’t that bad.”
“Oh, but they were,” Lucius (fucking) Fox said, rising from his seat as well. “I’m Lucius,” he said, extending his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Hal.”
“Nice to meet you as well, Mr. Fox.”
“Oh, don’t call him that. We’re all friends here!” Wayne interrupted. His blue eyes were sparkling as though he was telling an inside joke, his tone bright and careless. “And also don’t call me ‘Mr. Wayne,’ it makes me feel old. Call me Bruce. Or, even better, call me Brucie. We just want to get to know you better, Hal, and we can’t do that around all the stiff formalities.” Hal laughed hesitantly.
“If you’re sure,” he said. Hal shifted his weight off his bad leg a little. He looked out through the huge windows and saw that it was beginning to rain. Great, he thought. Just what I needed.
“Why don’t we sit and we can all chat for a little while?” Lucius offered, likely noticing the slight twitch that was beginning in Hal’s eye.
“Alright,” Hal agreed. But when he took a step, his bad leg went out from underneath him. If it hadn’t been for the brace, he would have gone all the way to the floor. He grunted, trying with effort to find his balance on his other leg while his bad one seized up, sending white-hot pain through his entire body.
“Hal, are you alright?” Wayne (because Hal was not calling his potential boss ‘Brucie’) said, voice suddenly completely serious. Hal caught his eye. Gone was the humor, replaced entirely with concern. His ditzy, empty gaze was suddenly sharp, tracing over Hal’s body, not flirtatiously, but analytically.
“I will be, just hold on,” Hal said, sucking in a breath and finally managing to lift his leg enough to relieve the pressure.
“Are you sure, Hal? Because we can always do this another day if you need to go home,” Lucius offered, and Hal felt the steadying pressure of Lucius’s hand on his back.
…Has that been there the whole time?
“No, I’m ok. We can do this now.” Then he continued, because, as previously established, Hal was an idiot. Besides, nothing loosened his lips like a little pain. “If you don’t hire me, I would literally have to starve to be able to afford to come back to Gotham again.” Hal laughed a little bit, then realized what he said and choked. “Uh, I mean-”
“So we’ll definitely do this now then,” Wayne said quickly.
“Right, ok. Sorry about that, I don’t know what came over me,” Hal said. He had to smooth this over. He had to.
“Don’t apologize, Hal. We all say things we wish we kept to ourselves sometimes. Regardless, nothing is embarrassing about what you’re going through right now. If it looked bad for anyone, it would be the VA,” Lucius said simply. “Now sit down before you collapse again.”
Hal did.
An hour later, he had a job.
What the actual fuck was his life?
(-0-)(-0-)(-0-)
Hal was literally riding a high later that evening when he floated into the biweekly Justice League meeting. He never walked as Green Lantern, but that day he was flying a little higher than normal.
He was early, for once, because he’d spent the day apartment hunting and, after signing a lease on a nice place (one that he was able to afford on his signing bonus alone, and how cool was that?) that was only a 10-minute walk from his office, he’d decided to go straight to Mt. Justice.
Batman noticed his good mood, because of course he did, and said, “Why are you happy, Lantern?” Hal paused in midair.
“Uh… what?” He asked. Batman was an asshole on his best day, but come on. Can’t a guy just be a little cheery? He was finally going to be able to afford to eat and live on his own, even if he was going to be living in Gotham.
And, oh shit, he’d be living in the Bat’s city. Yeah, best not to mention that.
“Sorry,” Batman said stiffly. “My sons tell me that I come across as rude if you don’t know me well enough.” Hal bristled and dropped himself into his chair.
“You don’t ‘come across’ as anything, Spooky. I’ve known you for years. You’re just an asshole. And maybe you didn’t mean to be rude, but either way you were. You ruined my good mood, so thanks a lot for that.” Batman frowned.
“Well, in this case I am truly sorry, though I don’t understand what I’ve done in the past to establish your opinion of me,” Batman said.
“Really? You don’t?” Hal asked. He’d always known Batman had some kind of complex that made him think he was always in the right. But was it possible that he was truly so unaware as to think he’d been doing nothing wrong for all the years they’d known each other? That their constant arguments were on Hal and Hal alone?
“No,” Batman agreed. “I don’t.” Before Hal could blow up, Superman (aka Kal-El, last son of the planet Krypton) walked in, followed closely by Green Arrow (aka Oliver Queen).
“So how’d it go today, GL?” Ollie asked, grinning excitedly.
“It went well,” Hal said.
“How well?” Ollie asked, leaning close and grabbing Hal’s arm, shaking it like a dog with a bone.
“Really well.” Ollie whooped.
“Alright, I’m taking us out for drinks. I don’t care how much I hate you-know-who; this is cause for celebration!”
“What happened to Voldemort?” Black Canary (aka Dinah Lance, Ollie’s wife) asked as she walked in.
“We’re getting drinks tonight! You’re invited if you want, baby,” Ollie said with a wink. Dinah laughed.
“Sure, Arrow. I could use some tequila,” she responded.
“It’s a date,” Ollie said.
“Yeah, alright, you two have fun,” Hal said, knowing from experience that as soon as Dinah got involved, Ollie was bound to forget anyone else.
“As lovely as this is,” Batman interrupted in a tone that clearly suggested he didn’t think it was lovely, “this is not social hour. When we come here, we come here for business. Anything related to our civilian lives should be left at the door.”
“Says you!” Hal shouted, indignant. “You were the one who was getting all up in my business about my good mood! And lord knows you have a file on me that’s as thick as my forearm, so you could probably just look it up if you cared to. But no! You just had to stick your nose in and ruin things for me!”
“What have I walked in on?” Diana (Wonder Woman, an exiled Amazon princess from the island of Themyscira) asked as she slipped into the room, her commanding presence drawing everyone’s attention.
“Nothing out of the ordinary, Princess,” Batman grumbled.
“Same old, Di,” Hal lamented at the same time. Upon realizing they’d spoken over each other, Hal was right back to glaring.
“Ok,” Superman said. “That’s enough of that. GL, congratulations on whatever it is that happened today to put you in such a good mood. B, I know you know that you can be antagonistic, especially towards Lantern. I think you both need to back off each other for now and come back to this discussion privately. Whatever is going on between you two is not going to be settled here and now.”
“Ever the diplomat, huh, Kal?” Batman grouched, but he obeyed. Hal had half a mind to tease him for it, but he wasn’t about to upset Superman either. The man had quite the temper when he felt there was injustice to be fought.
There was nothing but tense silence as the last few people walked in. The last to arrive was Barry, who grimaced and shot Hal a questioning look before speeding to his seat when Batman cleared his throat.
“Let’s get started,” Batman declared, pressing a few buttons on his gauntlet and activating the screen at the head of the room. “First order of business,” he began as diagrams of fighter jets and space stations appeared on the monitor. They’d clearly been done by an amateur, but the fundamentals were all there. With the help of an expert, the plans could turn into something exceptional. “Plans for the Justice League’s new headquarters as well as spacecraft to transport us between galaxies, should the need arise.”
“Which it will,” Superman added. “It actually already has, and we had to just send myself and GL.”
“New headquarters?” Ollie asked. “Why would we need that?”
“Mt. Justice is likely to become compromised. Too many people were aware of its construction, and the townspeople nearby have noticed our comings and goings. Additionally, people hiking Mt. Justice have noticed the security measures. Thus far, they have assumed it was the work of the FBI. Eventually, someone will catch on that it’s not.”
“A valid concern,” Diana mused. “So what are you planning?”
“A space station,” Hal interrupted. “Could work, especially if you’ve got someone subtle to make it. The only problem is, somebody will notice that too.” Batman scowled.
“If you had let me speak, Lantern, you would have heard why that is not the case,” he snarled. Hal raised his hands in the universal gesture of surrender. He could be the bigger person (also, Superman was giving him the stink eye).
“So what is your plan? Lantern presents a valid concern,” Aquaman (aka Arthur Curry, King of Atlantis) asked.
“I have an in with Wayne Enterprises. They’ve just opened a new aerospace division. I believe I will be able to convince Wayne, Fox, and their new head engineer, a man named Harold Jordan, to do this with the proper subtlety,” Batman said, completely unaware of the way Hal’s stomach flipped at the sound of his own name coming out of Batman’s mouth. He glanced at Barry, then J’onn (the Martian Manhunter, a telepath), then Ollie, and Dinah, who all knew his identity, and found them all already staring back. He quickly looked back at Batman.
“That still doesn’t answer the question of what happens when, say, NASA looks up into the sky and sees a satellite that’s not supposed to be there,” Superman said, frowning.
“That’s where Jordan comes in. He’s a clever engineer, very good at what he does. I believe he could design something that doubled as our new headquarters and a normal satellite for the use of Wayne Enterprises. All parties would gain something favorable from this deal. We’d get a new headquarters, and Wayne and his people would get a satellite and an in with the Justice League,” Batman said. And was Hal crazy, or did Batman just praise his civilian identity?
“A win-win,” Zatanna (last name Zatarra, no alias, the witch used her real name) said, grinning. “I like it.”
“I don’t know,” Cyborg (aka Victor Stone, a former Titan and their newest member) disagreed. “I don’t really feel like Wayne is getting as much out of this as we are. And I know his public persona is a bimbo, but nobody gets as rich as Wayne and does so much successful philanthropic work without having something between their ears.”
“That’s all Fox,” Batman said. “Wayne is just as much of a bimbo as he seems, and he runs the place. He’s the one with the money and the power, so at the end of the day, he’s the only one we need to convince.”
“I think you’re right about Wayne,” Ollie agreed. The archer would never miss a chance to shit on Bruce Wayne. He’d hated the guy since high school, and ever since becoming anti-capitalist and throwing most of his fortune and company away to charity, his distaste for Wayne had tripled. “I’m more concerned about this Jordan guy. Who’s to say he’ll do it?”
“It’s his job,” Kal said simply. “He’s got the least power in this situation. He’s only an engineer. A good one, clearly, if he was hired as head, but even so, he has little to no executive power in the company. He’s a new hire too, because as far as I know, Wayne Aerospace hasn’t officially opened yet.”
Diana nodded before continuing in the same vein, saying, “It’ll be his first big project, if not his initial. If he wants to keep his job, he’ll do it.” Hal winced. Diana was right. And it wasn’t that he wouldn’t do it; he would. But having his career, his life debated by his teammates in the same offhanded way one might discuss the weather was not his idea of fun.
“My thoughts exactly,” Batman confirmed.
“So then I see no reason not to do it,” Hawkgirl (aka Shayera Hol) said. “It is a sound plan, and Batman is right: if we stay in Mt. Justice, we will eventually be discovered. This issue is not imminent, but by doing this, we will be able to get ahead of the problem.”
“Yeah,” Cyborg agreed. “I’m still not too sure about Wayne, but if Batman says he can do it, I believe him. And we need those jets, man.”
“Alright,” Superman said after a long moment where nobody offered further commentary. “All in favor of Batman’s plan for a satellite headquarters and new spaceships, raise your hand.”
Not a single hand in the room stayed down.
Shit, Hal thought as he lowered his hand, eyes scanning Batman’s diagrams apprehensively. I’m so screwed.
(-0-)(-0-)(-0-)
Hal received his orders the very next morning in the form of an email.
It read:
From: [email protected]
Subject: First Project!!! :))))))
Good morning, Hal. I hope your signing bonus is treating you well.
I write to you this morning regarding your first project. It is very top secret, and I’m very excited. I’ll send Lucius down with the details later, but in the meantime, I’d start researching designs of satellites and spaceships.
But not just ANY spaceships. Think Millennium Falcon. (I’ll be Han if you’ll be Leia ;)).
Anyway, your team is still being hired, so it’ll probably just be you for the first week or so. Don’t worry, the mysterious beneficiary of your mysterious first project says it’s no rush. He wants the best of the best, and I think even he’s smart enough to understand that that might take some time.
Toodleoo and good luck!
Bruce Wayne
CEO and Majority Shareholder of Wayne Enterprises
[email protected], (XXX) - XXX - XXXX
“Whatever you do, always give 100% - unless you’re donating blood,” - Bill Murray
Hal felt his eyebrows creeping further and further up his skull with each word. Nevertheless, as the League had predicted, he immediately got to work, starting research and a few basic sketches based on what he’d heard of Batman’s plans the night prior.
Lucius came just after lunch with more details. He didn’t tell Hal much more than what he knew from Batman, but he did offer physical copies of Batman’s plans as well as the requested specs. Mostly, though, Hal was being given free rein.
It was a dream and a nightmare at the same time.
Hal thought he did a pretty good job acting surprised and flattered that the Justice League was asking for his help. It was easy to pretend when he was still reeling from the fact that Batman thought he was good at something.
“I know this is overwhelming, especially for your first day,” Lucius said as he left Hal’s office, “so if you need anything, I’m only an elevator ride away. Or two, rather.” Hal laughed as he got back to work.
Hal’s office was on the 55th floor, the highest of 4 floors that would become Wayne Aerospace’s Gotham office. 51 and 52 were mostly lab space that was being requisitioned from WayneTech R&D, but, save for his own office, 54 and 55 were all empty office space, waiting for his engineers to move in.
Wayne Aerospace was just getting its start, so at that moment it was still mostly a subdivision of WayneTech. But it would grow, Hal knew. And he would be there from the very beginning, guiding it and helping it to flourish. This company would be his baby, and he’d be damned if he was going to let it fall through the cracks after this project for the League was finished.
His work continued over the next few months, and he slowly settled into a routine. Every Monday, there would be new hires to greet in the lobby. He would give them the basic tour and then assign them a task, letting them run free. Then every Friday there would be a big meeting to assess where everyone was. Once a month on Wednesday, he had to appear in front of the board and give a presentation on Aerospace’s progress.
Eventually the new hires slowed down, and Monday turned into a day where he would go from office to office, offering help and advice to speed projects along.
Through all this, he still went to biweekly Justice League meetings (still had shouting matches with Batman nearly every time), and now and then something superhero-related would mess up his plans. He took a lot of long bathroom breaks to beat up villains; he’d taken a long weekend for one of Luthor’s robot attacks, and he’d already had to use most of his vacation days to go offworld.
Even so, he was enjoying having a job. And he was enjoying the money too.
He was finally able to afford the pain medication for his leg as well as a sturdier brace (ironically designed by WayneTech’s medical technologies department). His leg still hurt like a bitch, but it hadn’t seized up since the day in Wayne’s office.
“It’s great,” he said to Ollie, Dinah, and Barry during month two when they’d finally met for celebratory drinks. “I finally feel like I’m going somewhere, doing something. And let me tell you, the plans we have for the satellite…” he trailed off, grinning. “I can’t say much, but we’ve been calling her the Watchtower, and she’s a real beauty.”
The real break in his routine came during month five, when Bruce Wayne himself wandered into Hal’s office without knocking, dropping dramatically into Hal’s chair.
“Yeah, sure,” Hal said, not really bothered so much as confused. “Make yourself at home.”
“Thanks,” Wayne said, seemingly not catching Hal’s sarcasm. Or maybe, Hal thought, eyeing Wayne’s sly grin, he knows exactly what I meant, and he doesn’t care.
Hal hadn’t seen much of his boss since his interview. The man wasn’t actually in the office every day, and when he was, it was usually to go to one meeting or another. Otherwise he was at home on his palatial estate or holed up in his office filling out paperwork. All of their communications had been over email or through Lucius, the most words they actually shared being pleasantries when they passed each other in hallways.
All that to say, Hal was exceedingly surprised that Wayne was gracing him with his presence.
“Have you had lunch yet?” Wayne asked as he spun Hal’s chair in listless circles. Hal checked his watch. It was 2 PM. He winced.
“No, I haven’t. Why?” Hal asked apprehensively.
“Great! I was thinking Thai; how’s that sound?” Wayne didn’t bother waiting for a response, pulling out his phone and beginning to type something into it. “There’s this amazing place about a block from here. You’ll love it.” Wayne rose from Hal’s chair and was halfway out the door before pausing. “What are you waiting for, an official invitation?” Wayne asked teasingly. “Come on, let’s go.” Hal had no choice but to follow.
Wayne was right. Hal did love the food, and he would definitely be going back. But more than that, he found himself enjoying the conversation. Wayne was cleverer than he let on, and while most of his personality was clearly fabricated, he would sometimes let something slip that revealed a piece of the real Bruce Wayne.
And Hal was fascinated by him.
“Let’s make this a weekly thing. How’s lunch every Thursday sound?” Wayne asked.
Hal surprised himself by saying, “That sounds great, Mr. Wayne.”
“Wonderful,” Wayne said, sounding completely sincere. “Give me your phone so I can put in my personal cell. And for the last time, hon, call me Bruce. I don’t go on weekly lunch dates with just anyone, you know?”
“Alright, Bruce, sure,” Hal agreed, laughing. And he didn’t know, but he was starting to think that he wanted to.
True to his word, unless one of them was otherwise occupied, Bruce and Hal met for lunch every Thursday from then on. They never ate at the same place twice, and Hal became more deeply infatuated with Bruce every week.
They started calling each other for at least an hour every Sunday night. Hal’s phone was blowing up with texts at every hour of the day, and he began to look forward to hearing it buzz.
After that, Bruce and Hal started going on unofficial dates outside of Thursday lunches. Bruce would rope Hal into being his plus one at a gala, and in return, Hal would drag Bruce along to see a movie with him on a Saturday afternoon. It was after one of these galas that they shared their first kiss.
“I can’t believe you go to these things all the time,” Hal had said as they made a very rapid exit from the party.
“Sometimes I can’t believe it either,” Bruce had grumbled in return. “But what I really can’t believe is that people actually enjoy them.” Hal had thrown his head back, laughing, and when he’d stopped, Bruce was just staring.
“What?” Hal had asked, suddenly self-conscious. “Do I have something on my face?”
“No,” Bruce had responded, eyes alight with affection. “You’re just incredibly beautiful, and I really want to kiss you.” Hal had laughed again, this one even more joyful than the last.
“Well, baby, you could have just said that,” he said, and then he’d pressed their lips together.
It wasn’t all sunshine and roses. They fought, just like any couple would. Plans had to be cancelled for work, family, or superheroing, whatever the case may be. But they made it work the best they could, and a month since the official start of their relationship, Hal could confidently say that he was in love with his boyfriend.
And he had a creeping feeling that something was about to go wrong.
(-0-)(-0-)(-0-)
“I want you to meet my family,” Bruce said. It was Thursday, they were eating tacos, and Hal’s boyfriend sounded far more nervous than the basic request warranted.
“I’d love to,” Hal replied. And it was true. For the months they’d been together, Bruce talked about nothing more than he talked about his kids and Alfred.
He’d heard about the gymnastics facility Dick opened in Blüdhaven after quitting his job with the BPD to pursue something he was actually passionate about. He’d heard about Jason’s misadventures in theater, having gotten the lead in the Taming of the Shrew and then proceeding to sulk, not because he hadn’t wanted the lead, but because he didn’t want to be a misogynist. He apparently did it anyway because he “wasn’t some kinda fuckin’ deadbeat who’d drop out of a commitment coz he wasn’t thrilled about his job,’ which Hal respected. He hadn’t heard many stories of Alfred, but he had eaten his cookies, and Hal could safely say that they were to die for.
So what was the big deal?
“It’s just that… they can be a lot,” Bruce said, abashed.
“Says Brucie Wayne to Hal Jordan,” Hal joked. “But really, honey. What could go wrong?” Bruce stared contemplatively at his pico de gallo.
“I guess you’re right. I just like you, Hal. I like you a lot, but nothing is more important to me than my family. So I just worry that they won’t like you or you won’t like them and I’ll have to pick between you…” His words stalled out, and he took a bite of taco.
“Ok, two things. First of all: wow, sweetheart, the communication here is stunning. This is exactly what I was asking for last month. Let’s keep that up, yeah?” Hal teased.
“Hal, please,” Bruce grunted. “Thank you, but I’m serious.” Hal sighed.
“Sorry, I know you don’t always do well with teasing, especially not during heart-to-hearts. But I…”
“Have trouble taking things seriously and turn everything into a joke because it makes it easier for you to avoid processing it emotionally?” Bruce asked. “Yes, I know.” Hal winced.
“Harsh, but not undeserved,” he admitted. “So I guess what I meant to say was, ‘thank you for telling me, also I would never expect you to pick me over your kids.’” He sighed, and Bruce continued to watch him expectantly. “I love you, Bruce, ok? No matter what. If your kids hate me, I will fight to win their favor. But at the end of the day, I would actually want you to choose them over me. ‘Cause they’re your sons, and if you should put them first.” Bruce blinked a few times, and they lapsed into silence.
“Thank you,” he said after a long moment. Bruce would do that sometimes. Vanish into his own mind, ice-blue eyes watching him analytically all the while. It had taken Hal a while to get used to, - Hal hated silence, always had since he was a kid, and silence meant his mom was out on another bender - but now he accepted and loved it as a part of his boyfriend. It was his way of processing tough conversations, and Hal wasn’t about to be the asshole who gave him shit about it. He gave him shit about a lot of things, but not this.
Never this.
“And, uh, Hal?” Bruce mumbled, a blush spreading across his cheeks. “I love you too. And I’m sorry that I probably won’t say it often, but it’s true, and I just wanted you to know.” Hal smiled, but internally he was panicking.
He hadn’t meant to say the three words yet. He’d meant to tell Bruce about being the Green Lantern first. He hadn’t wanted to admit to loving him when Bruce didn’t know the whole picture yet.
Because what if Hal told him about the biggest part of himself - his purpose - bigger than his love of planes, his sense of humor, his disability… what if Hal told him that and Bruce couldn’t love him anymore?
It would be better not to have known they’d had a real shot. He needed to tell him now, before it was too late.
“I still want to meet your family, Bruce,” he said instead. “They love you, and I love you, so how could we not get along?” Bruce smiled, and Hal knew he’d made the right choice.
He would tell his boyfriend about the Green Lantern after dinner with his family. He didn’t want to ruin the radiance in Bruce’s face.
Not yet.
(-0-)(-0-)(-0-)
Hal’s Uber driver pulled up the gates of Wayne Manor, then looked at Hal in the rearview mirror, skepticism clear in his eyes.
“You sure this is the right place?” He asked, and Hal nodded.
“Yep,” he said. Just then, his phone buzzed with a message from Bruce.
- Sorry, the gates are broken. You’ll have to open them manually.
Hal frowned. A moment later, another message.
- You can send the Uber away. I’ll come get you.
Hal just shook his head and got out of the car.
“Thanks a million,” he called as he slid out of the seat. Uber man offered no response, simply pulling off as soon as Hal shut the door. Clearly, he thought Hal was up to something and wanted no part in it. Hal shivered.
God, it was cold.
He let out a puff of air and watched it fog up in the cold. His leg was stiffening up by the second, and he resolved to push open the gate before it locked up entirely. He limped over and pushed his shoulder into it.
The wrought iron swung open silently, which was somehow more creepy than it would have been if it had creaked. Hal hobbled through the gate, pushed it shut behind him, and waited for Bruce.
And waited.
He probably wasn’t waiting nearly as long as he felt like he was, but with his leg beginning to ache like it hadn’t in months and his fingers going numb with cold, it felt like an eon.
When Bruce’s Rolls-Royce finally pulled up, he fell into the passenger seat with a groan.
“You good, man?” A voice asked. A voice that was not Bruce. He looked up and saw the tan skin and messy black mullet of someone who could only be the infamous Dick Grayson.
“Uh, yeah,” Hal responded, pushing himself upright and trying to ignore the way his face flamed. “You must be Dick. I’ve heard a lot about you. And, I mean, you know your dad. He doesn’t talk a lot, so the fact he has so many great things to say about you must mean you’re pretty fantastic. Am I talking too much? I feel like I’m talking too much. Let me start again.” Dick, through all of this, looked amused and pleasantly surprised. Hal decided to take the fact that he hadn’t started yelling or something yet as a win.
“Hi,” Hal said. “I’m Hal Jordan. It’s great to meet you.” He extended a still numb hand. Dick grinned broadly and shook it.
“I’m Dick, but you knew that. Bruce would have come to get you himself, but he got caught up on the phone with a coworker. And damn, your hands are cold. Let’s get you inside.” He shifted the car into drive and started up the long, winding road to the manor.
They chatted amiably the whole way there, Dick about his work in Blüd, Hal about the newest iteration of the ships he was building for the League.
“I was reminded of this because of what you were saying about your latest move, the javelin turn?” Hal said, his mouth already running a mile a minute like it only did when he got comfortable. “Well, you know the project Aerospace has been working on? We’ve taken to calling the jets “Javelins” because they’re shaped like spearheads.”
“Should you be telling me this?” Dick asked, laughing.
“Eh, maybe not,” Hal shrugged. “But I haven’t actually given you any information you can use, have I? Nothing I’ve just told you isn’t public record if you know where to look.”
“Yeah, clever. I guess you’re pretty good at keeping secrets and all,” Dick agreed easily, and he almost sounded satisfied about something, though what that could be, Hal had no idea. It’s not that he was wrong about Hal, but why would he care?
“I guess so,” Hal responded. They pulled to a stop.
“Here we are. Welcome to our humble abode,” Dick said, winking at Hal and unbuckling his seat belt.
Upon swinging his legs out of the car, Hal realized that humble abode thing must have been a joke, because the only thing longer than Wayne Manor’s winding driveway was the length of the house itself. It was four stories tall and ran far enough in either direction that Hal couldn’t see the ends.
Maybe it was just because they were so close to the building. Yeah, that had to be it.
Fuck, he’d never been intimidated by Bruce’s money before, but this? This was a lot.
“Big, huh?” Dick asked, smiling gently. “Don’t worry, I get it. My childhood place was the size of that Rolls-Royce.” Hal was momentarily confused (because wasn’t the Manor Dick’s childhood home?) before he remembered that Dick had lived in the circus the first eight years of his life.
“Well, I think my apartment would probably fit in the entrance hall,” Hal said with a chuckle.
“I think you might be underestimating the size of the entrance hall, flyboy,” Dick teased.
“You’re kidding,” Hal accused.
“Not in the slightest,” Dick denied. “You need help up?” He asked, clearly having noticed that Hal had yet to stand up out of the car.
“No, I’m ok,” Hal said, proving it by standing up despite his aching knees’ protests. “Just needed a second to get my bearings.”
“If you’re sure,” Dick said, but he took Hal’s arm to help him up the front steps anyway.
“Thanks,” Hal mumbled once they’d made it to the door. Dick shook his head and pushed the front door open.
“Don’t mention it,” he said.
No sooner had they stepped over the threshold than an impeccably dressed man appeared at Hal’s side, offering to take his coat.
“You must be Alfred,” Hal said, allowing the man to help him out of his puffy winter jacket and spirit it away.
“That would be correct, Master Hal. Welcome to Wayne Manor,” Alfred said, moving over to take Dick’s coat as well.
“Thanks,” Hal said.
“Master Bruce and Master Jason are both in the secondary drawing room. Master Dick, if you wouldn’t mind escorting Master Hal there, dinner should be ready in half an hour.”
“Gotcha, Alfie,” Dick said. “C’mon, Hal, I’ll show you around a little.”
Contrary to his word, Dick didn’t show Hal around, but took him directly to what must have been the secondary drawing room, judging by its occupants. Hal was silently grateful for the limited walking, and he knew without having to ask that that had been Dick’s reason to take him there.
When they arrived at the door, Bruce was having a hushed conversation over the phone as Jason watched on anxiously. Whatever he was saying, Hal caught only bits and pieces of it.
“I think - fine… No, we’ll - come to it. Only if it escalates - will. - of course not. Listen, I have to - I said ‘hello’. Talk - Clark. Bye.” Bruce hung up the phone with a heavy sigh. Then he caught sight of Hal hesitating in the doorway, and his demeanor completely changed.
“Hal, hi,” he greeted warmly, standing to meet Hal at the door and place a light kiss on his cheek. “Are you ok? I know the cold hurts your knee.”
“I’ll be alright. Just need to warm up a bit, and I’ll be back in working order.” Bruce nodded and kissed him again, this time on the lips.
“Ew, B. Save it,” grumbled Jason, crinkling up his nose in fake disgust.
“Yeah, seriously, Bruce. Not in front of the children,” Hal teased, pulling away slightly and going directly to the nearest chair. Bruce offered a subtle nod of understanding and didn’t push Hal for an explanation.
God, Hal fucking loved this man.
“So, Hal,” Jason said, not rising from his seat across the room. “What makes ya think you’re good enough for my father?” Bruce sighed, and Dick cackled, but Hal leaned forward a bit and met Jason’s eye seriously.
“I don’t think it’s about being ‘good enough’. I think I make him happy, and I know he makes me happy. We love each other, so what else could I ask for, yeah?”
“I s’pose,” Jason said, narrowing his eyes. Hal held his gaze steadily. He would win this kid over, if not for his sake then for Bruce’s.
“Are you going to introduce yourself, Jaylad?” Bruce asked, exasperated.
“Naw, he knows who I am,” Jason said.
“Jay.”
“Fine,” Jason groaned. He didn’t move from his seat, but his facial expression relaxed a bit as he said, “Hi Hal, I’m Jason. I’m Bruce’s youngest.”
“So far,” Dick amended, grinning. “You never know with B. He might snatch up a new one as soon as you look the other way.
“That’s an exaggeration,” Bruce insisted. “I only have two children, and I don’t need any more.”
“No, you don’t need any more, but you want ‘em. You ‘specially want ‘em wit’ Hal. If you could have Hal’s babies, you would,” Jason declared. Bruce blushed and didn’t deny it. Hal smiled softly.
“Oh, sweetie, you want my babies?” He cooed, grabbing at Bruce’s hand and squeezing it comfortingly.
“I-I wouldn’t mind raising a child with you,” Bruce choked out.
“For what it’s worth, I wouldn’t mind raising a child with you either, baby.”
“Nix the pet names, and I don’t think I’d mind havin’ a stepfather,” Jason said, entirely serious.
“Jaylad, please. We’re not there yet,” Bruce said, his blush somehow darkening.
“I don’t think Hal’d mind it if you were. Would ya, Hal?” It was Hal’s turn to flush, caught off guard by being put on the spot.
“Well, I don’t know. We’ve only been together for a few months, and that’s a big step to take. There are still a few big conversations we need to have, but I love your dad. Marrying him one day sounds… amazing.” It was something Hal hadn’t admitted to himself yet, but it was true nonetheless. Unless his secrets fucked everything up, he really wanted to marry this man.
What the actual fuck was his life?
Dick giggled and clapped his hands like a schoolgirl. Bruce was blushing like mad, one hand covering his eyes and the other holding tightly to Hal’s. Jason just watched Hal thoughtfully for a moment before nodding with finality.
“Yeah, Hal,” he said, “I think you’re a keeper.”
(-0-)(-0-)(-0-)
Hal came awake early the next morning to the sound of his JL comm’s emergency alert. He fumbled around his nightstand for it, eyes bleary with sleep, and slipped it into his ear.
“REPORT TO MT. JUSTICE IMMEDIATELY. ALIEN INVASION IMMINENT,” a computerized voice nearly shouted in his ear. Hal groaned and dragged himself out of bed. He stumbled around, managing to make himself look reasonably presentable in under five minutes, before slipping out onto his fire escape and activating his uniform.
He was halfway to Happy Harbor when his comm went off again, and Batman began speaking rapidly into his ear.
“How far out are you?” He asked, sounding harried. Hal could hear muffled shouting in the background.
“About 20 minutes. Why?” Hal replied, speeding up slightly at Batman’s urgency. If whatever was going on had Batman losing his cool, Hal needed to be there ASAP.
“Don’t bother coming all the way here. I need you to go to Gotham.” Hal slammed to a halt in midair.
“What?” He asked, sure he must have heard Batman incorrectly.
“We need the jets that Wayne Aerospace was working on, and we need them yesterday. I know they’re close enough to done that we could probably fly them, so I need you to go to Gotham and get them going.” Hal turned around and started flying back the way he’d come.
“Why, exactly, do we need these now?” He asked.
“Don’t argue with me, Lantern,” Batman growled.
“I’m not arguing,” Hal denied. “I’m not stupid, ok. I know that this is probably important, and as much as I might dislike you, I trust you. I just want to know the plan here, Spooky. I’m a founding member of the team; that doesn’t feel like it should be a big ask.” Batman sighed deeply.
“It’s not,” he said. Hal waited a long moment for follow-up, but it was unforthcoming.
“You gonna finish that thought, Bats?”
“Sorry. The plan is to intercept the aliens in space. We sent Superman and Martian Manhunter ahead, but they are reportedly overwhelmed by the alien forces. I activated a prototype teleportation device that Fox has been working on to take us from Happy Harbor to Gotham, and we are now making our very conspicuous way through the streets of-hold on.” Batman cut himself off to shout something at Arthur.
“As I was saying before Aquaman tried to get hit by a car, we’re on our way to Wayne Enterprises to steal the jets. However, upon reviewing my latest email from Fox, it became apparent that the jets, while space-worthy, weren’t going to be a breeze to get into the air quite yet. That’s when Flash suggested I call you, given that you have the most experience with spacecraft, and, according to him, also the most experience with - this is verbatim - ‘all things planes. You know, building them, flying them, crashing them. GL’s a real plane aficionado.’” Hal couldn’t decide whether to laugh or cry, so he did neither, settling instead on a begrieved sigh.
“That does sound like Flash,” he conceded. On the horizon, Wayne Enterprises came into view. “I’m coming up on Gotham now. Meet you in WE’s basement.”
“Wait, how are you going to-” Whatever Batman was trying to say was cut off as Hal pressed the button on his comm to end the direct call. A moment later, his ear was filled with the chatter that was filtering through the open line.
“I could have just teleported us here,” Zatanna was saying.
“Why didn’t you mention that two miles ago?” Cyborg complained.
“You all just started walking, and none of you would shut up, not even Batman. He’s been talking to Kal, J’onn, or GL this entire time!” Batman grunted in response.
Hal landed on the rooftop garden that extended off the 55th floor - floors 55 and above being smaller than the ones below - and used his access codes to push his way into his office. Then he rode the elevator down to the basement where they were keeping the Javelins and the Watchtower during testing.
He’d beaten the rest of the JL there, but he wasted no time getting to work. He floated up to the nearest Javelin and pressed the button to open the hatch, slipping inside before it opened all the way up. He flew to the front of the craft and sat himself down in the cockpit. Throwing open the computer he’d left in there on Friday, he began rapidly running simulations and going through schematics. He found a few errors he needed to fix before the craft would be able to take off and immediately got to work fixing those things in every ship, muting his comm so that he could focus.
He was elbows deep in the engine of the second Javelin when the League arrived.
“I could have run ahead,” Barry complained as the elevator doors slid open.
“You wouldn’t have been able to get in,” Batman replied.
Hal barely looked up, shouting, “First one to your left should be ready for take-off. The ships can hold up to five, so once this one’s done we should be up and running.”
“Great, thanks, GL. Now does anyone actually know how to fly one of these things?” Shayera asked.
“Yes,” Batman said simply.
“I could probably figure it out,” said Victor.
“Not good enough,” Hal responded. “These things were designed to be newbie-friendly, but according to Batman, they’re only halfway to done. There’s no way somebody who’s never flown a plane, let alone a spaceship, is getting this thing in the air, let alone keeping it there. Besides, we’ll need you in a turret.”
“Then why don’t you do it?” Barry asked.
“You know why not, Flash,” Hal growled. He finished up the last thing he was doing and shut the engine’s access port.
“Not really,” Flash disagreed. “This is different from a fighter jet, GL. And you said it yourself, we need somebody experienced to do this.”
“I’d be more useful outside the jet.”
“Maybe,” Ollie agreed. “But you can operate as Green Lantern from within the ship if necessary. We all know you’re willful enough.”
“All due respect,” Diana interrupted, “but we don’t have time for this. Lantern, if you can fly the jet, please do. That will be the duty of you and Batman. There are two turrets on each ship. Flash, Cyborg, Black Canary, and Green Arrow would be best suited to these positions. Hawgirl and I will use the specialized spacesuits that have been built for us to join Superman and Martian Manhunter outside the ships. Zatanna can ride on a ship as well and use her powers from inside.”
“That still leaves me,” Arthur noted.
“Yes,” Diana agreed. “You will remain on Earth. We will contact you if needed, but your powers would be best suited to ensuring nothing goes wrong while we’re offworld.” The king of Atlantis looked reluctant, but he wasn’t about to go against Diana’s orders. Neither was Hal.
So without further ado, he slid into the cockpit and fired up the engine. The familiar whir of it underneath his hands set his heart racing in anticipation. A pulse of pain went up his leg, almost as if in warning. He bent it experimentally and winced as the muscles seized. Luckily, nobody had been watching.
Hal gritted his teeth. His team needed him to do this, and more than that, selfishly, he wanted to do this. He wanted to feel the exhilaration of lift-off, the joy of flight, the adrenaline rush of flying one of these beauties into battle and coming out the other side. He hadn’t realized how much he was missing it until he was given another chance.
It would be hard, with his injury, to fly this ship the way she deserved. But he was Hal (fucking) Jordan, former Air Force Captain and current Green Lantern. All it would take was a little willpower, and that was something he had in spades.
“All aboard the GL express!” He called, pressing the button that would open up the tunnel that would take them aboveground. “You heard the princess, let’s get cracking!” He saw out of the corner of his eye that Wonder Woman, Green Arrow, and Cyborg were joining him on his ship, which left Hawkgirl, Flash, Zatanna, and Black Canary with Batman.
Hal opened up a comm line between his Javelin and Batman’s.
“This is Green Lantern to Batman, do you copy?” Hal asked.
“I copy,” Batman replied stiffly. “Remind me: after this, we need to talk. Urgently.”
“If you insist, Spooky,” Hal agreed uneasily. Talks with Batman never went well. Not for him.
“I do.”
“Alright then,” Hal said. He shook off the disquieted feeling that had settled over his shoulders like a wet blanket and started rolling his ship towards the exit. “Come with me if you want to live,” he said.
“Now is no time for joking, Lantern,” Batman said, but he sounded a little less uncomfortable than he had moments before, so Hal just smiled a little bit as he steered his plane through the long tunnel out of Gotham, Batman close on his tail.
Diana settled down in the co-pilot's chair about halfway through the tunnel.
“Thank you for agreeing to this,” she said. “While I am not privy to all the details, I get the distinct feeling that this will not be easy for you.”
“That’s one way to put it,” Hal agreed wryly. Already his knee was beginning to ache from being locked in place for too long. What would happen if it distracted him midair? What about mid-battle? He was a potential danger to himself and his teammates, but he had been the only option.
He sent up a prayer to a God he had long stopped believing in for help.
“I trust you, Green Lantern. You have the heart of a warrior. No matter what happens today, know that I have always had the highest faith in you and your abilities.” Diana said. Hal blinked, startled, and glanced at her from the corner of his eye.
“Thanks, Di,” he said earnestly.
“It is nothing,” she said. They rode in silence the rest of the way.
When they reached the end of the tunnel, they pulled out onto the airfield Wayne Aerospace had built for testing. Hal pulled to the end of one of the airstrips and pressed the button to reopen his commline with the other Javelin.
“Green Lantern to Batman, we are about to take off. Any last words?” He asked.
“Yes,” Batman responded. “When you arrive on the scene, do not engage immediately. Wait for Superman and Martian Manhunter to give you the sitrep and then follow their instructions. They have the best understanding of the situation, and so they will be taking point.:
“Got it,” Hal said. “Side note, we really need to come up with better names for these ships, because right now they’re all just called ‘Javelin.’”
“Chatter,” Batman scolded, but Hal could practically hear his smile.
“Alright, sorry. But I’m not wrong. Green Lantern out.”
He fired up the engines and looked back over his shoulder.
“You all get that?” He shouted. He got a series of affirmative responses. “Alright, then buckle up, cause we’re about to take off.”
He launched the plane down the strip, and then they had lift-off. Hal felt a giddy laugh bubble out of his chest as he tilted the nose of the ship up and up and up. They pierced the clouds, and he kept going, chasing the edge of the troposphere and then pushing further. As soon as they left the exosphere, he disengaged his thrusters and let their momentum take them, steering them in short bursts of energy until they came up behind where two figures were floating. A minute later, Batman pulled up beside him.
Hal opened another comm line, this one to all channels.
“This is Green Lantern to all channels. Superman, Martian Manhunter, what have you got for us?”
“Not much,” Kal admitted regretfully. “As you know, our attempts to reason with them have been unsuccessful, and whatever their ships are made of is blocking J’onn’s telepathy. We attacked and destroyed their scout ships as a warning, but the mothership has continued its approach.”
“So we attack the mothership,” Hal said simply.
“We would like to do this with as little life lost as possible,” Batman grunted in response.
“That’s nice, Spooky, but I recognize the design of these ships,” Hal said. “These are Nuckyians. They’re conquerors who like to take vulnerable planets, looting them for all they’re worth, kidnapping the men to work in their mines, and forcing the women to be… wives.” Next to him, Diana tensed.
“We cannot allow that to happen,” she said through gritted teeth.
“Yeah, well, there’s no reasoning with these guys. Trust me, the Guardians have sent dozens of Lanterns to try, and they always come back having wrecked another fleet. The only way to stop them is to destroy them. Luckily, once we do, they won’t be back. They only like easy wins.”
“So we attack,” Batman agreed reluctantly.
“Look at you, taking my advice,” Hal joked. “Pigs must be flying.” Batman merely grunted.
“So J’onn and I will get the smaller ships, Shayera and Diana will target the guns, and the Javelins will go for the engines of the mothership, but also just shoot whatever you can hit. We can keep casualties limited by targeting the ship and not the people in it, but shoot to do damage nonetheless. That’s the only way we’ll win this without killing them all,” Superman said with finality.
“Got it, Supes,” Hal said in response, tightening his grip on his controls. Diana rose silently and started to prepare herself.
“I copy, Superman,” Batman said.
“Alright,” Superman said. “Then let’s do this thing.” Hal muted his comms and got to work. Immediately, he was under heavy fire. He swore and created a construct hand to swipe the attacking ships away.
“Arrow, ‘Borg, you should really get down to those guns now!” He yelled, jerking them to the left just in time to avoid a giant missile headed in their direction.
“Right, sorry!” Arrow called back, and they were both off.
“I will exit through the airlock now,” Diana said a few moments later, after Hal had destroyed the ship that had launched the missile with a missile of his own (his was a construct, but still).
“Alright, Di,” he said, pulling away from the action so he could slow the ship to a stop. He wrapped them in a construct shield in case they came under fire. “Good luck.” Diana nodded and stepped through the airlock doors. As soon as she had exited the ship, Hal let the construct drop and launched back towards the battle.
“Batman, can you-” J’onn said, then cut off with a grunt.
“On it,” Batman responded calmly.
“Has anyone seen my mace?” Shayera asked. Hal looked to his left and spotted her amid the wreckage of a gun on top of the ship, her mace embedded in the hull a few yards to her left. Hal pointed it out to her. “Thanks.”
The battle continued much in that fashion, the Justice League wrecking shit and narrowly avoiding being wrecked in return, for only about twenty minutes before the mothership - and the few other remaining ships in the fleet - began to retreat.
Hal watched them go for a moment, and then once they’d launched into hyperspace said, “Well, that went pretty well, if you ask me.”
“Nobody asked you, Lantern,” Batman growled.
“Honestly, it was a little anticlimactic,” Hal continued, ignoring Batman’s grouchy reply.
“Well fought,” Diana praised through the comms. Hal spotted her floating in the air, grinning at him proudly.
“Thanks, Princess,” Hal said, and he didn’t just mean for the kind words, though they didn’t hurt. He knew that without her encouragement, he never would have gotten in the captain’s chair.
“Let’s land. We’ll debrief at Mt. Justice in 1 hour,” Batman said, already steering his ship back towards Earth. And even the prospect of a long debrief with Batman grunting and Superman prattling on about synergy couldn’t bring Hal’s mood down. In a ship he’d designed and helped build, after a successful battle, he had never felt more like he was flying.
(-0-)(-0-)(-0-)
Hal let his ring drag him behind it out of Mt. Justice’s war room. They had been in there talking about a twenty-minute fight for two damn hours. Clearly Batman hated him. And Hal had idiotically thought they’d been getting along better!
“Lantern, stay behind, please,” Batman called after him before his feet could cross the threshold. Hal held back a groan. All he wanted was to go home! His leg was killing him (as much as he’d loved flying the jet, there was a reason it had been a bad idea, and sitting in the meeting for two hours after… well), he’d hardly got any sleep the night before, and Batman was a dick. Knowing Spooky, the meeting would be another two hours, but this time dedicated to all the things Hal had done wrong.
Hal made to lower himself back into his chair, but Batman caught his arm.
“Don’t, Lantern, it’s ok. You don’t have to sit if you can’t right now.” Hal stiffened.
“What do you mean, if I can’t right now?” Hal snapped. “I’m fine, Spooky.”
“No, Hal, you’re not. Please, don’t hurt yourself for my sake. Never for my sake,” Spooky said. Not growled, but said, and Hal was so startled by the clear remorse in his voice that he almost missed the fact that Batman had said his real name.
“What did you just call me?” Hal hissed.
“I called you by your name,” Batman admitted readily. And Hal looked around frantically to make sure nobody else was in the room to hear that.
“Batman, what the fuck? Did you detective me? Because I know we don’t get along, but that’s not cool, man,” Hal growled, flashing his ring threateningly and lifting a little bit off the floor.
“No, I didn’t. Hal,” Batman said, pushing back the cowl. “I think we need to talk.”
And for the first time in his life, Hal Jordan was at a loss for words. Because Batman was Bruce Wayne. His boyfriend. The love of his life.
“I had been planning on telling you soon, but I wanted to make sure you were here to stay first. After last night… well. I was going to invite you over for another family dinner, and afterwards take you down to the Batcave and show you everything. All the things I’m… not proud of. But then today, you went in through the rooftop gardens using Hal Jordan’s security codes, and you talked about those planes as you knew them, like you knew what they were capable of, and like you were proud of them. And with what Barry and Oliver were saying and the way you kept glancing at your legs whenever they suggested you fly I…”
“You detectived me,” Hal mumbled, dropping back to the ground. He hadn’t noticed, but he’d floated towards Bruce throughout the other man’s speech. Now they stood close enough that Hal had to tilt his chin up slightly to look Bruce in the eye.
“Yes, I apologize. I would have liked to let you tell me in your own time, but sometimes my mind gets ahead of me.”
“Oh, your amazing detective mind gets ahead of you? Oh, Spooky, that’s so sad,” Hal couldn’t help but tease. And the tiny little grin on Bruce’s (Batman’s!!!!) face made all the crumbly, embarrassed, terrified feelings go out of his chest. This was Bruce! And God, thinking about it, it made so much sense.
Dick was the first Robin, Nightwing now, and Jason was the second one. And all that stiffness and grunting that Batman did, Bruce did it too, only having opened up to Hal after gentle coaxing. It explained the scars on his body, the injuries he sometimes sustained doing “extreme sports,” and the way he always had to cancel dates on the same nights Batman was spotted out fighting one of his Rogues.
“Hnh,” Bruce grunted after a long silence, face completely blank. The same noise from Batman would have made Hal’s hackles go up in defense, but now Hal knew what was really going on. His boyfriend was digesting the situation, letting his genius brain puzzle out the pieces of their conversation, and this was his way of letting Hal know.
“Well, I’ll be honest, baby. This is a lot to take in,” Hal said slowly. Bruce grunted again, this time affirmatively. “But I still love you, and I still want to marry you, and I still kind of hate Batman. So… this doesn’t have to change anything.”
“Hmm?” Bruce hummed.
“Yeah,” Hal agreed. “It’ll affect our working relationship, don’t get me wrong, but I think it will only work to our benefit. Instead of pissing each other off all the time, we might actually be able to work together, y’know? Collaborate?”
“But it will put our team and us at more risk in the field. When one of us is in danger, it will be all the other can focus on,” Bruce said.
“Maybe, sure, but we’re professionals. But that doesn’t really matter now,” Hal said. Bruce grunted questioningly. “I know who you are now. I love you. We can break up, and I’ll love you. I think I might just love you forever. We might as well be together, be happy, because we’d face the same risks in the field either way. At least I would, and I hope you would too.” Bruce hummed agreeably, and they lapsed back into contemplative silence.
Hal took the opportunity to trace over the lines of his lover’s face with his new knowledge. Part of him expected Bruce to look different now, expected something to have changed. That part of him was wrong.
Hal gasped in pain as his knee shot hot sparks of agony down his shin and up his quad to his hip. He collapsed forward into Bruce, who caught him easily. Bruce pulled out a chair for him with one hand and helped him collapse into it.
“Now I remember why I wasn’t supposed to be flying planes,” he gritted out. Bruce chuckled, squeezing his shoulder in wordless support and kneeling in front of the chair to look him in the eye.
“Can I see your face?” Bruce asked quietly, and Hal obligingly willed his uniform away, leaving him in just his boxers. Bruce chuffed another laugh, sliding one hand up his thigh, the other to his cheek and leaning in to press a soft kiss to Hal's lips. It wasn’t hot or needy, but it held all of Bruce’s love, his happiness. Hal smiled into it and made no effort to deepen the kiss.
“Thank you,” Bruce said, and Hal didn’t have to ask what he was thanking him for. He knew, and he felt the same way.
He was thankful for this. He wanted to keep this. And Hal wanted that as well.
He wanted someone who would laugh at his awful jokes; who knew his poke bowl order by heart; who understood what it was like sitting through Superman give the same speech about synergy thirty times because he’d heard it too; who would hold him after he got back from a long space mission and not ask questions; who he could debate the intricacies of spaceship design with and not have it fly way over their head; who would pull the chair out without asking.
And god-fucking-dammit, he was the Green Lantern. He’d make it happen, and it might not be easy, but it would be worth every second.