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Flash bounced his leg anxiously, silently willing Superman to go faster. It’s not that he didn’t care about Lex Luthor’s newest plans for world domination, but sometimes Clark’s dislike for the man made these presentations less about the actual plan and more like an unpaid therapy session rant about how terrible Luthor was. Barry just wanted to get to the last item on the meeting’s agenda: nominations for new Justice League members.
The League had been looking to add new members since the last Earth-ending crisis left the team spread too thin trying to hold back the alien invasion. Since the League had started, new superheroes had come onto the scene, and slowly the League had grown in size. Unfortunately, the threats had also grown larger, so the League was constantly playing a game of catch-up to make sure they could handle the threats.
After what felt like an hour, Superman finally seemed to be done sharing his theories on Lex’s plans to gain more power. (Barry wondered briefly if Clark’s rants had gotten longer once he found out about Kon-El and started having to co-parent with his arch-nemesis. He should look through the Watchtower’s recordings and see—he’s a scientist first and foremost, and data is important. Maybe if his hypothesis is right, he could convince Batman to invest in a therapist for the team and they can stop having to listen to Clark’s tirades.)
Batman stood up at the head of the table.
“Thank you for that… in-depth explanation, Clark.”
Maybe Barry wouldn’t even need the data to convince Batman to get Clark a therapist.
“Now, our last item of the evening. Nominations. Who wants to start?”
Barry jumped in immediately, excited to finally say his piece.
“I’d like to nominate Flamebird and Nightwing. Flamebird—”
“Who’s Flamebird?” Hawkman interrupted.
“My nephew, the old Kid Flash,” Barry answered. “He’s grown up a lot, and the Titan’s stepping in during the last crisis showed how helpful it can be having more than one speedster on the team. And Nightwing’s the Titan’s leader and a vigilante in Blüdhaven—he’s a great fighter and strategist. Wally talks about him all the time and from the sounds of it, there’s nothing the guy can’t do.”
Batman pulled up footage of the two superheroes, allowing the rest of the League to see them in action. A few more members brought up some other heroes and talked about their strengths while their videos flashed on the screen. After an hour of very civil conversation and debate (no, Dinah didn’t try to strangle Hal when he brought up Booster Gold for the fourth nomination meeting in a row simply to waste time, what are you talking about?) the team voted on their nominees, and just like that the Justice League grew larger.
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Some months passed, and Barry was excited to see how well Wally and Nightwing were settling into the League. He was the one who spoke on their behalf, so he felt responsible for the two of them. He knew that Flamebird would fit in well with the League; Wally was friendly and funny and, unless you had an aversion to fun like a certain bat, it was difficult to not get along with him. Barry had only met Nightwing a couple of times before the nominations and didn’t know much about him (except his favorite ice cream flavor and that he was obsessed with cereal and that he loves movie nights and that he was insanely flexible and “Oh my god Uncle Barry one time Nightwing took out twelve armed men alone without a single weapon”... he did say Wally talks about his best friend A LOT). Anyways, Barry knew that Nightwing wouldn’t share his identity with the League, and he was worried that it might cause some tension since the only other person whose identity was a secret was Batman, but he was happily surprised to find it a non-issue. Nightwing was open, outgoing, engaging, and quickly became friends with everyone he met. Wally had once said he was sunshine personified, and Barry had to agree; Nightwing could put a smile on anyone’s face even after the most tedious, tiring mission (except Batman but like… it’s Batman. He never smiles, so he doesn’t count).
Barry relished the fact that he got to spend more time with his nephew and learn more about Wally’s best friend first-hand instead of just through stories. The two recruits had quickly fit in with Barry’s closest friends in the League, Hal and Oliver, which might say more about his and his friend’s maturity level than he’d like to think about. They joked around and teased each other easily, and participated in Green Lantern’s favorite pass-time game: Batspiracy, where each person tries to make the wildest claim they can about their mysterious bat leader, and then they have to defend their conspiracy theory with “proof” from things they’ve seen or heard about the Bat. The best theories so far, at least in Barry’s humble opinion, included Batman being a vampire, a meta with shadow-manipulating abilities, or a demon that could be summoned only by evil and procrastination on post-mission reports.
“Give it a try, Nightwing. Let’s hear your best conspiracy theory about good old Spooky.” said Hal.
Nightwing, despite knowing Batman for less time than Barry, Hal, and Oliver, somehow had more supporting evidence than the three of them combined could have ever come up with. Being from Blüdhaven, and more importantly right next to Gotham, Nightwing had access to enough gossip and whispers to fuel the most illogical, baffling argument Barry had ever heard: Batman was a dad. He claimed that wherever Batman went in Gotham, a little birdie was not too far behind, dressed in bright colors and taking down criminals with the same ease and efficiency as the Bat himself. Batman’s long lectures, bat-glare, stern reprimands, and ability to quiet a room full of heroes all served as Nightwing’s “proof,” saying that he was using his “dad experience” to lead the League. Barry hated to admit it, but the argument was convincing, especially when Nightwing threw out “Imagine Batman saying ‘I’m not angry, just disappointed,’ and tell me that you wouldn’t feel exactly as ashamed as you would if you had just let down your actual dad,” and he couldn’t find it in himself to disagree with the sentiment. No one believed the theory, but they also found it shockingly difficult to poke holes in the argument, leading to a fun inside joke that quickly spread throughout the League—behind the “Bat-dad’s” back, of course.
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Whenever Nightwing went on a mission that required a speedster, Flamebird was quick to volunteer. It made sense from a strategic point; Wally had been working with Nightwing for years, and the two of them were like a well-oiled machine. Because of this, it took almost a year of Nightwing being a part of the League before Barry got to go on a mission with him and see him in action, and even that was only due to an unfortunate patch of ice that had landed Wally with a broken—albeit quickly healing—leg.
The mission was supposed to be simple. Clark had gotten wind of another scheme by—you guessed it—Lex Luthor. He was working with a smaller organization, using drugs to covertly fund his research into a mind control machine. Barry would have been more interested in what Clark had to say, but again more time was spent venting about Luthor himself than actually making a plan to fix the problem (he really needed to talk to Batman about that therapist). By the time they got Superman to end his venting session and tracked down the drugs, they found they were in Central City, making it an easy choice for the Flash to be involved. Superman would confront Luthor and keep him occupied while Barry and his team apprehend the gang and confiscated the drugs before they hit the streets of Central City. A simple plan for a simple mission.
Simple though the plan was, it worked. Almost. Flash, Nightwing, Martian Manhunter, and Green Lantern had swiftly secured all the criminals and were working on collecting the drugs. With their guards slightly lowered by their success, they failed to notice the safety measures one of the goons had activated. As Nightwing moved over to a stack of crates, an unexpected blast threw him across the warehouse and into vials of mysterious chemicals. The weight of his fall broke the glass, adding further injuries to the poor hero, and the liquid in the broken vials quickly turned to gas. Barry rushed over and used his speed to push all the gas away from Nightwing; he looked over, expecting Nightwing to make light of the situation, the same way he had every other time Barry had seen the man injured. Instead of his crooked smile, Barry was greeted with the sight of Nightwing’s pupils dilated wide with fear, not a single trace of his normal happy, easy-going personality on his face. Barry stepped towards him but was stopped in his tracks by the blood-curdling scream that ripped from Nightwing’s mouth.
While the other heroes secured the scene, Barry quickly picked up Nightwing, trying to be as gentle and careful of the man’s numerous injuries as possible, and ran to the Zeta tubes. He got him to the infirmary, calling out for a doctor. Other members came flooding in, hearing Barry’s distress clearly. Nightwing writhed in pain, shaking with fear, but had just enough control to shove the doctor away from himself, not wanting to be touched by the stranger. The team stared as he cried, so unlike anything they’d seen from the hero, and again he opened his mouth to scream, but instead of the ear-splitting, meaningless sound from before he cried out a single word:
“DAD!”
A chill ran through Barry as he froze in place. He’s gotten to know Nightwing over the past year. This is his nephew’s best friend, a man who he’s joked around with, had game nights with, and who he considered a friend. In that moment though, he realized he knew so little about him. The poor kid—and yes, he was a kid, just like Wally, even if they’re both legally adults—just wanted his dad, and Barry didn’t even know who he should be looking for. He looked around, seeing similar realizations displayed so blatantly across his teammates’ faces as they all looked at Nightwing, crying for his dad and to go home, with not a single clue what to do.
Just as Barry was about to run back to his home where Wally was recovering in a desperate attempt to see if he knew anything that could help, Batman stormed into the room. Relief flooded through Barry; for all the mystery that surrounded the Bat, everyone knew he’s the World’s Greatest Detective. He had figured out all the founding members’ identities before they had decided to reveal them, and he had likely done the same with Nightwing. He could go find the kid’s dad.
Batman surveyed the scene for a fraction of a second—so quickly that if Barry didn’t have super speed he likely wouldn’t have noticed—before rushing to Nightwing’s side. Unlike his reaction to the doctor, Nightwing let Batman get close and start treating his injuries. Batman opened his mouth to speak, and for a second Barry was worried again, concerned that he is going to lecture the hurt kid, disapproval obvious in his deep growl, but instead, a voice Barry was certain not a single member of the League had ever heard before came out of his mouth.
“I’m here. I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere. It’s going to be okay. You’re safe. I’m here.”
Reassurances poured from Batman, the soft tone never wavering as he tended to all of Nightwing’s wounds. Nightwing was still crying, but it was noticeably less severe, and he stopped calling for his dad. The only occasional word that left him was “home,” and once Batman was satisfied with Nightwing’s injuries, he scooped him up in his arms and took him to the Zeta tubes.
No one moved. The air was suddenly quiet without Nightwing’s cries. The silence stretched, draping over everyone, until—
“What the actual fuck?” whispered Green Arrow.
The dam broke, and voices started overlapping at once
“You don’t think—”
“That can’t actually be his dad”
“What if he—”
“There’s no way Spooky is a dad,” Hal said over the clamor of voices. “Nightwing probably told Batman his identity just in case, since he can clearly keep a secret. He must have known that Spooky would be taking him to his dad and calmed down because of that.”
Barry couldn’t think of a more logical explanation, and it seemed like the rest of the League felt the same because they slowly began to file out of the medbay and return to what they were doing before.
However, he also couldn’t help wondering why Nightwing had stopped asking for his dad as soon as Batman arrived, yet he continued to ask to go home.
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A few days later, Batman finally came back to the Watchtower. No matter which member asked, his answer remained the same:
“I took him home.”
No one had the courage to ask him about Nightwing’s dad.
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As days turned to weeks turned to months, the League members became less confident in their assurance that Batman wasn’t Nightwing’s dad.
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It took a whole three months for Nightwing to return to the Watchtower. He came up with Wally, who had been visiting him regularly while he recovered. Barry quickly went over, with a number of other members of the League. Superman quickly took charge before the rest of the team could harass him and asked if he was doing okay.
“Fit as a fiddle,” Nightwing said with a wink.
“Glad to hear it.” Superman said. “We were wor–”
“Is Batman your dad?” Green Lantern interrupted, not wanting to wait any longer.
Nightwing looks over at him, a grin splitting across his face.
“You didn’t know?”
Murmurs went through the crowd in disbelief that they got such easy confirmation.
“What do you mean ‘am I his dad’?”
Barry startled; he hadn’t seen or heard Batman approach.
“I’ve heard you all make comments about it. I believe the phrase ‘Bat-dad’ was making the rounds a while ago,” said Batman.
“Holy shit, we thought it was a joke,” Oliver said softly. “Nightwing was being serious. Batman’s a dad.”
“Batman heard us make fun of him. We’re dead,” Hal murmured, his eyes wide.
Nightwing laughed.
“Don’t worry, he’s used to it. We tease him so often, it’s practically a full-time job.”
Looking back, Barry could see all the fatherly actions from Batman towards Nightwing. It made so much sense, it was almost embarrassing that none of them had noticed. Maybe they should ask the World’s Greatest Detective for some lessons; they had all been a little clueless…
“Wait, WE???” Barry yelled. “Are there more of you?”
The only response he got was more laughter.