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Bruce hasn’t slept for nearly 72 hours. It started with his preparation for the Wayne Gala, which was interrupted by an Arkham breakout, and then, immediately afterwards, the Justice League had an emergency that was all hands on deck. However, with the emergency finally over the League was taking a break in the Watchtower, various leaguers remained to lounge and catch their breathe while they recuperated.
“When can evil aliens stop trying to take over the planet? Don’t they know Earth is protected? Seriously,” Hal let out a long breath, collapsing forward over the table in an over dramatic slump.
Barry huffed with a small, agreeing nod, “I’m so tired of all the invasions. Why do they even want earth? It’s full, and polluted, and people are like, constantly fighting. Why do they want it?”
“I don’t know!” Hal looked up at Barry while he threw his arms up in exasperation, “I mean, I love Earth, don’t get me wrong, but come on. It’s not that great.”
Superman puffed out his chest, shaking his head softly, “Personally, I do believe Earth is the best,” a pause, “But, we are definitely not worth all the alien invasions.”
There was a silence, filled in by the quiet clacking of the computer keyboard. Batman was working, still working. It made Hal exhausted just watching him do so.
“Spooky, don’t you ever get tired?”
“Hn,” He was tired, but he wanted to ensure the invasion was well and truly over; that the hostile aliens are well and truly gone. The others wouldn’t check, assuming the invasion was done unless the aliens returned and killed a few more people, but Batman won’t take that risk.
The Leaguers continued their attempt to talk to him, but he’s mastered ignoring them.
However, Alfred could not be ignored, and Alfred is always in his ear. (Even when Batman wished he wasn’t).
The comm buzzed to life, “Mr. Lantern makes an excellent point, sir. You are clearly exhausted, and should take this opportunity to get at least eight hours of sleep.”
“No.”
Clark looked up with a frown, “No? Batman, we just said we should all take a break. I don’t think that’s a bad idea.”
However, Batman wasn’t paying mind to his friend, as Alfred has spokem up once again in his comm, “Master Batman,” always careful of the super hearing, though the ones with that power have promised Batman not to eavesdrop, “Staying up as late as you do is not healthy, and will inhibit your ability to perform.”
“No.”
“Say ‘no’ to me on more time, young man.”
God, he’s pulling the disappointed dad tone and - “But Alfie-“ his voice came out in more of a whine. He didn’t want to go home until he was sure-
“Master Batman.”
Bruce snapped his jaw shut, biting his lip. He ducked his head slightly. No fighting that tone. “Fine. I’ll return home.”
Bruce turned on his heel, walking away towards the boom tube with flushed cheeks. The League was quiet, watching the Bat escape.
“Did he just whine?”
“Yep.”
“Batman. Whining like a child.”
Hal burst into laughter, and the league couldn’t quite stop joining the Lantern in his hysteria. It was so… so odd, but in a good was, to see Batman as a human. It’s so easy to forget he is, sometimes.
“But Alfie-“ Barry mocked the Bat, laughing into his hand with a joyous smile on his face, “Oh my god - Wait, who even is Alfie?”
“Uh, I don’t know.”
“Someone who can boss him around, apparently.”
“God. The more we learn about that man, the less I feel like we know.”
No matter what anyone said, Batman would blame his concussion. For good reason too, because it was most likely his concussion’s fault. It was, yet another, League emergency. Some inter-dimensional demon had started to attack earth - “blah blah blah, same old, same old. We get it Spooky.”
This demon was a heavy hitter, and Batman was an unfortunate target. He flew at the impact, and unable to right himself in time to take the fall properly, landed head first. At the sound of the sickening crack, his only thought was Shit.
The world spun when he regained consciousness, lights too bright and focusing too painful. He groaned with pain when a shadow crossed his field of vision, a hand coming down to rest against the side of his face, “Hey, Batman, how’re you feeling?” The voice was spoken in a soft timber, deep and soothing and still all too loud. Batman groaned again, and he could almost feel the other man frown, “Concussion? Batman, can you say something please.”
Batman was wracking his ever suffering mind for something to say, some way to respond - and the only thought in his head that seemed to work sounded a lot like Brucie Wayne, so he ran with it:
“Hey cutie.”
The whole world seemed to freeze, and the silence that followed was more deafening than any inter-dimensional, demonic cry.
“Oh my god, Batman’s lost it.”
Superman was as red as his infamous cape, eyes wide and staring down at the Bat with a fluttering heart, and mounting confusion, “I think we need to get him back to the med bay. Immediately,” he quickly and carefully pulled Batman into his arms, and the vigilante let out a small, pained keen before grinning something nasty and very much inappropriate.
“Move your hand a little higher and you’ll find gold.”
There was a squawk, and Superman nearly dropped his friend.
Barry was staring, mouth slack, “Oh my god, Batman’s a secret pervert.”
If Superman didn’t know better, he’d have agreed. With a deep breath to try and calm his racing heart, he prepared himself for the long flight to the Watchtower’s medbay.
Batman didn’t make the flight any easier.
The Justice League was filled with children, and if the world knew they’d fear for their protection. Hal and Barry were playing some insane game of pin the tail on the donkey, only that Cyborg was the donkey and the tail was a magnet. Naturally, Cyborg was displeased with the game and was increasingly tempted to respond with violence, and that’s when Barry called it quits because he is, blessedly, a wonderful and kind man. But then Guy decides to join Hal in his games.
Clark and Wonder Woman were having a fantastic game of arm wrestling, but Bruce swears to god if they break the watchtower one more time playing their game, he will spear them.
Shazam was trying to be a knight in shining armor and defend Cyborg’s honor of having a magnet-less ass (while also being seduced by Hal to join the game rather than stop it), and Green Arrow was making bets with Black Canary, while flirting with her in the most vulgar of ways.
Normally, Batman would be able to ignore the commotion and continue to do the work necessary to keep the world safe. However, he had a migraine the size of Killer Croc’s fist, and Jason came to visit the manor after Patrol. Which Bruce was thrilled about, because it means Jason is willing to forgive them (or if not forgiving, finally moving on). It means Jason is willing to be family again.
It also means Jason is willing to be a horrible role model that Damian and Tim very much do not need.
So, after a night of ignoring his growing migraine as he tried to keep Jason from pranking his brothers (“No, Jason. You can’t duct tape Tim to the ceiling to see if it could hold him” “No, Damian. I already said Jason can’t, so why do you think you’re allowed to?” “Just because I said you can’t duct tape Tim does NOT mean you can duct tape Dick to the ceiling! Get your brother down right now!”)
He didn’t get any sleep, to say the least, but when his boys decided to stop their insanity and sit down with him on the couch, putting on Brokeback mountain and all crying together (although Bruce did not partake in the tears thank you very much), he would have to say the night ended up being ok. And when Jason rested his head against Bruce’s shoulder, slight blush on his cheeks - and when Bruce wrapped his arm around Jason, pulling him close, feeling his wayward son relax in his hold for the first time since he came back from the dead, well, let’s just say Dick getting duct taped to the ceiling was worth it.
However, that still made for minimal sleep and maximum irritation when he woke up and remembered there was a League meeting today. A League meeting that was unnecessary, and ends with all the fully grown superheroes devolving into little children.
And Bruce’s head was still pounding.
His head snapped up when he heard crashing and watched as Hal climbed out of a brand new hole in the wall, and he had enough, “I swear to God, Jay, if you don’t stop-“ Shit, he cleared his throat, reigning in his temper and rebuilding his Batman Mask, “Lantern. The next hole comes out of your salary.”
He felt more than saw the chaos in the room stop, watched as eyes turned to stare at him. This is why, Alfred, I need my morning coffee.
But, he promised to go on the coffee detox with Tim, and he won’t fail his son. No matter how much he wants to.
“Did you just lose your temper?”
“Who’s Jay?”
“Why did you call me Jay?”
Batman stood, on again clearing his throat, “I did not lose my temper. Jay is my son,” And goodness, how nice does it feel to be able to say that in confidence, “And I called you his name because you both can be nightmares.” But he loves Jason a hell of a lot more, which forgives his nightmare-ness. Hal doesn’t have that excuse.
He began to stride towards the exit, ignoring the calls and questions of his teammates behind him.
When the Bat was gone, the team once again shared a confounding silence.
“My bet, Jay is the Red Hood.”
“Dammit, no! I am nothing like that man!”
“Well…”
All the Bats knew how to go days without sleep. That didn’t mean they were invincible, though, nor does it mean the continuous lack of sleep wouldn’t effect them. They were only human, after all, despite their attempts to rise above mortal limits.
It was another week of madness and chaos, another week of long days and longer nights, fighting and fighting and never sleeping. God, Bruce doesn’t even remember the last time he slept. He was running on coffee and will power, so when the League called for his assistance he went with a great deal of reluctance.
Alfred tried to stop him, of course, but he shrugged off the old man’s concern. When that didn’t work, he promised Alfred to take a full day off from being Bruce Wayne and Batman. But, he needed to save people first, and he won’t let something as petty as fatigue stop him. Through out their mission, he fought to remain in control of his exhaustion, and for the most part he did a good job. Except for when he didn’t. His teammates could tell something was off. He talked slower, moved slower when matters weren’t pressing. When he didn’t think his teammates were looking, he’d lean against the walls, or let his shoulders slump. If it was anyone else, they’d be worried, but they know Batman, and they know when the time matters he won’t let it, whatever it is, stop him.
And, they all know better than to call him out on it.
His teammates were right, though. When the time came he acted without hesitation, held himself tall, moved quickly - he was every bit the Batman they’re used to seeing. It wasn’t until after they got back to base did they see the true extent of his exhaustion.
Naturally, it wasn’t on purpose. Batman wouldn’t willingly show them he’s not at 100%, but it’s been so long and he hasn’t had coffee for so many hours, and the post-mission meeting was just so very boring. Normally, Batman is the one running things, forcing others to pay attention and take the debriefing seriously. This time, however, Superman took control, and though Superman is softer on the team, and let’s them get sidetracked more often, Batman just couldn’t bring himself to care.
He rested his head on his hand, eyes drooping as he watched them all talk and laugh, large smiles on their faces and relief from a mission well done oozing from their pores.
Batman’s eyelids began to droop. They were done. The mission was a success, no one died, and hell, they didn’t even cause any political ruckus. He could go home, he should go home.
Moving seemed like such a chore, though.
Batman relaxed more, since he knew he was safe. He was safe. The team, he trusts them more than anything. He trusts them to take care of him, and protect him. He would put his life in their hands, hell, he has put his life in their hands prior. Without a thought.
Batman’s eyes shut behind his mask, and he listened to their voices, their laughter. It reminded him of his kids, really. When they all lived in the manner, or, now, when they all come to visit and the ghostly halls were filled with life once more. That laughter is always a delightful sound in the manner, and though it’s usually an annoyance in the watchtower, that day, it sounded right. Good. And god, doesn’t that alone let Bruce know he’s past an exceptional point of exhaustion. He really should be getting home, dammit.
But he was warm, and safe, and he couldn’t open his eyes… slowly, Bruce fell asleep asleep to the chatter of his team. His family.
The meeting was finishing, and Batman was suspiciously quiet. It was weird, and Hal was so over it, “Yo, Spooky, aren’t you gonna insult me?”
Silence. By now the rest of the League began to pay attention.
“Hello! Spooky! Spooky? Batman! I think I’m gonna go over and kidnap Robin.”
More silence.
“Oh my god he’s dead.”
“He’s not dead,” Clark knew it’s best to shut down ideas like that before they had time to fully form. He looked over at his friend for a long moment, listening to his steady heartbeat and breathing. “He’s asleep.”
“I’ve never seen him asleep before. I never knew he even slept.”
Clark shook his head but smiled. He knew Bruce couldn’t sleep around people he didn’t trust, so Clark understood the significance of this moment. It made Clark’s chest ache in the best way possible, his heart swelling with warmth. He wasn’t gonna let anyone ruin this moment, Bruce’s trust.
With a small smile, Clark stood and walked around to Bruce’s chair, “I’m taking him home to sleep properly. I’ll see you all later.”
Batman was amazing, strong, resourceful, and painfully human. He makes technology in an attempt to counteract all his more human qualities, but that, however, does not mean he won’t blunder. Unfortunately.
It wasn’t any League emergency, thankfully. They were taking preventative measures, running around together and stopping any crime they came across. Just something to show the world they’re still there, and everybody contemplating villainy needs to take a hike.
Batman was perched on a roof in Metropolis, looking out over the city and his teammates working. They’ve been hitting all the major cities, fighting crime and talking to the people. They were feeling good, and all was going unbelievably well.
Wonder Woman flew down to land beside the Bat, a smile on her face, “It is time for us to move on,” Batman nodded his agreement. They’ve been here long enough.
He stood, turning to head toward the BatJet a few rooftops over, “Understood.”
He began his run across the rooftops, jumping between the alleyways and grappling higher until he got to where he needed to be. He flipped onto a rooftop, not even pausing his step when he landed on a loose tile he didn’t expect, slipping. He recovered easily enough, continuing the run to his jet with hopes no one saw.
Of course, he wasn’t that lucky.
“Oh my god, Batsy, did you trip?!”
He didn’t bother to respond to the glowstick.
“You totally just tripped!” The words were followed by howling laughter, and Batman narrowed his eyes behind his mask. This man. He was going to sick his kids on him one day.
“Wait,” Oh Barry, please no, “Batman tripped? Like - like tripped tripped?”
“Yes!”
“But isn’t he, I mean, you know!”
Batman rolled his eyes, “Believe it or not, I am human, just like the rest of you,” Well, most of them were human. He turned to face the two heroes when he got into his jet, taking his seat in the pilot’s position, “Mistakes happen.”
“But, but you’re too cool to trip!”
With another roll of his eyes, Batman took off. Honestly, he works with children.
Bruce Wayne was at the gala with his children - all of his children, this time (well, all of the legally adopted ones). For once his smile was genuine, and how could it not be? His family was together again, bad blood finally put to bed, anger and resentment on hold or, preferably, gone. It was good, it was civil. It was more than he could ever hope for. Laughter began to ring through the hallways of the manner once more, smiles have been brighter, and overall, moods have been higher.
More smiles. More laughter. More love. Bruce would do anything to keep it.
He watched as Jason and Tim laughed together by the snack table, eating more than what would have been considered socially appropriate and gossiping like high schoolers. Bruce desperately wanted to join them, but alas, he had to keep appearance.
Dick and Damian were on the dance floor, Dick leading his little brother through the Waltz, even though no Waltz music was actually playing. Damian looked reluctant, but the fact he was going along with it meant he was willing. No one could ever force Damian. Then again, the boy would do almost anything for Dick.
And, of course, all the elderly were swooning over Dick being such a good big brother. That man certainly knew how to play the part.
He spotted Cass and Barbara talking quietly in a corner, and he vaguely wondered why they would willingly come to such an event. They didn’t have to, and Bruce knew if he didn’t have to he certainly wouldn’t show up. But, they’re supportive sisters, the only ones who really knew how to keep their head on straight. They’re here for their brothers, he’s sure, and Bruce couldn’t be more proud of them. (So, ok, maybe he has favorites).
It was all going good, too good to last. So, of course, it didn’t.
There was a gunshot followed by screaming, and gunmen ran into the room ordering everyone’s obedience. They were all was forced to their knees, and Bruce shared a forceful look with his children. They can’t play hero right now, so they’re going to have to go along with whatever is happening. They need to be defenseless, useless Waynes, and not vigilantes of the night.
And then one of the assholes decided to hold a gun to Jason’s head, and Bruce lost it.
Jason was - they were all precious. They are all his sons, and daughters, and he loves them all so much. But Jason died. Jason and Damian, they died. Really, really died. He lost them, he lost them. And Jason was, Jason was murdered. He was murdered- he was murdered and Bruce failed him. He failed him horribly, and when he came back to life he kept failing him, continuing to push him away. They spent so much time separated, so much time away from each other, so much time where they could have been a family hating each other - so, like hell would he let anyone take Jason from him again. Not when he just got him back.
Bruce acted before he could think, lunging at the gunman and tackling him to the ground. In the gunman’s surprise, he forgot to pull the trigger (thank god), and that’s when all hell broke lose.
The boys acted, throwing punches and ducking swings. Their punches looked wild and sloppy - well, everyone’s except for Dick, the trained cop as he is. They worked efficiently and the gunmen were distracted long enough for the GCPD to arrive.
Bruce was battered, allowing the hostiles to get in a few hits, but no bruise could stop him from rushing to Jason’s side and pulling him into a tight hug, “Jason, are you alright?”
Jason scoffed, but to Bruce’s great relief he returned the hug, “What happened to not playing hero?”
“Screw that, you were in danger.”
Jason surprised laughter caught Bruce off guard, but soon he smiled at the sound.
His other kids made their way over after a final sweep, ensuring the GCPD successfully had the assailants in custody, “Everyone ok?”
Jason nods up at them, “Yep! Just blowing cover is all.”
“Don’t say that. You all fought atrociously,” Dick smiled something toothy, before shrugging, “Come on. Who wouldn’t believe an overprotective dad acted to save his son?”
“Besides, everyone knows Brucie is too stupid to be Batman.”
Bruce laughed, a smile crossing his face as he surrounded by his family, “Yeah, yeah, you keep saying that.”