Chapter Text
“I’m disappointed in you.”
Bruce didn’t acknowledge Superman. He didn’t need to, since Wonder Women came to his defence.
“Come now,” said Wonder Woman. “We can hardly blame Batman for not having a plan for a craft show being attacked by radioactive alien hornets on the site of a partially-completed ancient ritual requiring only screams to activate.”
She tried to punch the surface of the recently enlarged glass dragon that was holding her captive. Just like all the other times, it didn’t break.
Superman huffed and put his head in his hands. He was sitting tiredly cross-legged in an admittedly pretty, green-pattered orb. “You forgot the part where some an artist was unknowingly experimenting with kryptonite paint.”
The glass wasn’t exactly sentient, but it did seem to want to encase anything living that it touched. There were a lot of civilians stuck in glass ornaments, rolling around and into each other, which was manageable, but a little confusing considering the glass seemed to be very indestructible and somehow occasionally bouncy.
At least all the glass was protecting everyone from the radioactive hornets. Green Lantern had been corralling eighty percent of them in one of his constructs when the glass started growing and gaining its currently more irritating properties. Batman had managed to redirect a glass hummingbird over towards Hal when he was first encased and briefly lost focus on his construct, meaning that about seventy of the hornets were stuck in that one glassware. The rest were falling out of the air rather quickly since they kept trying to stab the glass and succeeding at their violence just as well as the Justice League.
Batman watched a smaller piece of glass, still the size of Damian’s dog, Titus, haphazardly roll after one of the remaining hornets. Batman was estimating the glass at an intelligence level of particularly stupid fish, not that he chose to share that piece of information.
“The man has Bat Shark-repellant!” Green Lantern shouted from his ornamental watering pod. “He’s supposed to be prepared for everything!”
Flash tilted his head like Green Lantern had made a valid point and emphasized his agreement with a hand gesture.
“That was hardly my idea,” Bruce muttered to himself, typing on his gauntlet.
It took a moment longer than Bruce would like to admit to realize that the entire Justice League present, meaning Wonder Woman, Superman, Flash, and Green Lantern, had heard him. In his defence, the glass had started to settle and many of the civilians were apparently tired enough from panicking that there was a sudden lull in clinking. Not to mention that the fewer flying hornets meant less incessant buzzing. Also, Bruce was working off of three hours of sleep, a corporate spy situation at Wayne enterprises, an Arkham breakout, and a cold.
He managed to avoid sneezing by sheer force of will.
“Who’s idea was shark repellant?” Flash asked, apparently genuinely curious.
“Excuse me? If you could pay attention to your captor, that would be great.” This came from a tall, reedy man wearing jean shorts and a graphic t-shirt. He had a glass mask over his face that really looked like a coloured fishbowl.
Honestly, it would be a kindness for Batman to finish this quickly. The Do Not Engage, Prank, or Take Over the Justice League Rule would hardly prevent Bruce’s children from spontaneously showing up purely for the chance to mock a wannabe with a fishbowl on his head.
Jason and Stephanie would be particularly vicious in their commentary and Dick, the only one who could feasibly stop them, wouldn’t. Damian had recently taken to suit design along with his art at Dick’s suggestion in an effort to find the boy a productive hobby he could tie into both vigilantism and civilian life. Everyone else was very glad it was working to the point of rabid encouragement and Dick was far too proud of both his idea and his babies to properly manage any related behaviour.
Batman looked just past Fishbowl Man to the camerawoman who’d been shooting something for the news about the craft sale and had just reached the glass-blowing and jewellery section when the hornets first attacked. She therefore had a front-row seat to the panic and the screams from the hornets triggering the ritual that, in-turn, triggered the giant slightly-sentient glass pieces. Fortunately, she appeared to be a professional and was still broadcasting. Even if she stopped, Bruce supposed he could provide some of his cowl footage to Damian.
Bruce was also, perhaps, proud of his youngest newest’s hobby and fell in the camp of rabid encouragement. Bruce had to replace far less furniture considering Damian’s only previous hobbies had been helping wild animals and hacking chair legs off with his katana.
“Dude, you took advantage of an accidental magic ritual and paralyzing alien bees. You didn’t capture us, you were just on site.” The Flash had his arms crossed, which was only slightly dampened by the fact that he was upside down and his prison was wedged between tables after he tried to run around in his flat glass pendant.
Flash also wasn’t wrong. Unfortunately, the slightly-sentient glass seemed to follow their original crafter’s will, which explained the fishbowl and the glass prisons.
“That’s like, an eight on the opportunistic side of things, but a one on the planning. You’re not going to be able to keep this up, man.” Green Lantern agreed. He was leaning on the back of his watering device, very casual even as he used hand signs to convey that, somehow, the magic was fucking with his ring.
Judging from his active suit and the little green previously hornet-eating birds still flying within his prison, Batman was thinking this was a similar situation to Superman and Wonder Woman; their powers worked within the glass but couldn’t break through the glass.
“Feel free to tell us your plan, though.” Superman sounded kind and accommodating from within his glass daisy.
Batman wanted to smack him upside the head in exasperation. He settled for sharing a commiserating look with Wonder Woman, which backfired slightly when his face twitched with the effort of suppressing a sneeze. Diana’s look turned to one of concern.
“Thank you!” Fishbowl Man exclaimed.
They all waited.
The camerawoman looked up to stare at the reporter she’d arrive with, who was stuck in a glass cat. The reporter shrugged at the same time the civilian next to Batman snickered, trying to cover the motion with their large hat and sunglasses.
Fishbowl Man was apparently observant underneath the fishbowl and still noticed. He visibly bristled before shouting, “I’m holding you for ransom!”
“Dude,” Flash said, burying his head in his arms.
Batman stared at Superman until the man turned away to study the ceiling. Sure, Kal would tell Batman he was disappointing for not predicting this mess but the man with a fishbowl stuck on his head and hornets for brains was treated with politeness and courtesy.
“I’m disappointed in you,” Green Lantern told Fishbowl Man before actually flinching when Batman nodded at him in approval.
“‘You’ as in the civilians or ‘you’ as in the Justice League?” Wonder Woman asked because she was a goddess who understood the need for actual information. “And who will you be contacting for the ransom?”
Also how would it be paid and to where and how was he going to be communicating these demands. Additionally, what about an exit plan? Because Batman wasn’t seeing one of those that worked in Fishbowl Man’s favour.
Fishbowl Man looked like he’d been asked to solve a complex calculus problem with Wonder Woman’s questions alone so Batman didn’t add his own.
Two nearby teenagers trapped in the same ornament laughed at Fishbowl Man who actually started spluttering. Bruce decided this hadn’t been worth getting out bed for in the slightest. Also that he was going on a deep space mission the moment he woke up without wanting to sneeze. Possibly sooner.
Forget cowl footage for his son’s enrichment. The kids were never to know the extent of this lunacy. They were never going to let him live down being captured by this goon. Maybe he could get away with it if he framed the captured as the fault of alien hornets and ancient magic.
Bruce tuned back in to hear Fishbowl Man ranting about his many purported skills of villainy.
“My unpredictability is key! You weren’t expecting this. You have nothing on me!”
All the League’s heads and several of the civilians whipped their heads to Batman. Batman decided that the civilian to his right was his favourite, since the woman looked both bored and sympathetic under her large hat.
He fought off another sneeze by sighing loudly.
Fine. The facial recognition program had already come back anyways and been reported to his gauntlet. Batman had managed to capture an image of the Fishbowl Man’s face from the security footage before the fishbowl made its appearance.
“Walden Emerson. Forty-two. Won third place three years running for his glass animals in the craft show’s ranking contest but didn’t place this year. Ex-girlfriend Wendy Choo launched a moderately well planned hostile take over of the state three months ago where Emerson was demoted from boyfriend to henchman. Wendy has custody of their cat despite being on parole leaving Emerson only a dying plant.”
Wonder Woman looked fond while Superman was nodding proudly. Batman scowled at him. Apparently Batman was no longer a disappointment.
Emerson was sputtering. Batman decided Fishbowl Man was much more appropriate name than Emerson and he would be called nothing else until this farce was over. “How did you-”
Batman allowed himself to smirk. The details were mostly from the profile on Choo. The lack of a third place ribbon was from a half-tucked away advertisement sign that had clearly been tossed away when he didn’t place this year. The plant was an educated guess.
“Well you still don’t have a plan to stop me.” Fishbowl Man struck a power pose with his hands on his hips despite the fact that the jean shorts really took away from the moment.
“A pre-set plan for a craft show being attacked by radioactive alien hornets on the site of a completed ancient ritual that only needed a set number of screams in the vicinity, hijacked by a wannabe in a fishbowl working through his feelings of inadequacy after his breakup? No, even I didn’t have one that specific.”
Fishbowl Man was clearly torn between glee that Batman had basically agreed with him or rage by the description of his motivations.
Superman hummed thoughtfully. “That specific?” Superman asked, with a smile despite being mildly poisoned by kryptonite.
“I generalize,” Batman admitted. “Sometimes.”
“Let’s see this general plan, then.” Fishbowl Man crossed his arms.
“Dude,” Flash shook his head from where he’s mostly sighted himself in his pendant. He was standing at an angle of about seventy degrees instead of upside down. “You don’t challenge Batman.”
Fishbowl Man waved his hand at the giant glass leaf Batman was encased inside. “What’s he going to do? Wonder Woman couldn’t even break this shit.”
“You really are new at this, aren’t you?” Green Lantern’s tone was pitying, as was Flash’s laughter.
Batman avoided sneezing and considered. The rest of the League was dealing with a diplomatic incident being led by Martian Manhunter and Bruce really didn’t want to disturb them. Zatanna had mentioned she was going to be in another dimension for a while and Constantine was MIA as usual. They were going to run out of air in these glass prisons sooner than later, despite the fact that most people hadn’t seemed to have figured that out quite yet. Batman wasn’t even sure if Fishbowl Man had figured that one out.
Also, Alfred was making chicken noodle soup. Bruce’s head hurt and suppressing the sneezes was annoying and he wanted that soup, damnit.
Really, the Do Not Engage, Prank, or Take Over the Justice League Rule wasn’t going to last much longer anyways. Red Robin was preparing a Presentation on the advantages of revealing the Bats as a collective and allied entity. The whole family was involved and preparing arguments and counter-arguments. It was an impressive piece of work from what he’d been able to scope out and Dick was fully capable of making Bruce disappear and taking over as Batman if Bruce disappointed his babies.
Capable and willing, if Bruce was reading his eldest’s targeted glares whenever Bruce walked into a planning session and had to pretend he didn’t know what was going on.
So Bruce walked to the other side of his prison and tapped on the glass to catch the attention of the camerawoman stuck in a stylized pepper shaker. Sure, he could have made the call over his comms. unit, but he fought crime dressed as Bat. Bruce deserved this for the complete and utter farce he had to endure so far today.
“Excuse me,” Bruce asked, much more politely than the two-bit Fishbowl villain because Alfred has raised him right. “Are you still broadcasting?”
The camerawoman nodded hesitantly after a quick look to the reporter, her camera and its major news outlet logo bobbing along. Batman turned slightly from the woman to the camera, aware of the glass distortion from both of their prisons and not particularly caring.
“Code Free Rein. N’s in charge. Don’t break anything I’ll need to fix.”
And then he sat down, cape flowing out behind him. Because Alfred was a thespian at heart and had raised him right.
“That’s it?” Asked Fishbowl Man.
“It’s a very hands-off plan,” Bruce allowed.
“Who is N?” Wonder Woman asked.
“The person who invented the Bat Shark-repellant.” Bruce really should stop caving to his eldest’s puppy eyes. Though now he’d taught all his siblings so really it wasn’t Bruce’s fault anymore.
“You called someone for help? You? What happened to working alone?”
A loud giggle-snort interrupted Green Lantern’s exclamation.
“Are you kidding me?” The giggler said after, catching their breath and realizing the collective League plus villain were looking at them. “Batman work alone? Ha.”
Batman had already been pretty sure from his new favourite civilians calm demeanour throughout a villain attack, aversion to sunlight with the giant hat and glasses, and the Wayne-industries gas mask sticking out of a specialized pocket of their backpack, but those words confirmed his suspicions.
“Gothamite.” Bruce said aloud, for his slower companions.
The young woman nodded. “Left for my Masters degree. All this sunshine is wild.”
Bruce nodded, because it was truly awful. He was getting a headache and he didn’t think it was from the cold or the even the stupidity he was being forced to endure.
“I have family in the bowery though. Sent me news footage of the Scarecrow takedown last week. N saved my little sister, so thanks for that.”
Bruce nodded again, because he didn’t like the thanks part of the job but his children were pretty fantastic and deserved all the recognition that didn’t put them in danger.
Green Lantern didn’t let the conversation deviate, however. He pressed forward into his glass wall. “What do you mean Spooky doesn’t work alone? He’s like the most antisocial person I’ve ever met and, let me tell you, I’ve met a lot of people in a lot of galaxies.”
The Gothamite ignored Green Lantern and looked to Batman. Batman loved his city and its citizens. He really did. “Did N really come up with Bat Shark-repellent?”
“Among many other things,” Batman admitted.
“Batarangs?”
“No… but he did name them.”
“I just won so much money in the neighbourhood betting ring.” The Gothamite rubbed her hands together before cocking her head. “So, you really doing this?”
“Doing what?” Yelled Green Lantern and Fishbowl Man at the same time, much to their mutual disgust and Flash’s and Superman’s mutual amusement. Wonder Woman just looked concerned again.
Batman hadn’t sniffed. He hadn’t.
He did sigh.
“Just seems like overkill, you know?” The Gothamite asked.
“No, we really don’t,” said Flash, somehow sounding more earnest than annoying. Maybe it was the way he was now standing at the edge of his glass prison, one hand spread out across the surface and entire body fighting that seventy degree tilt.
“It is,” Batman agreed. Because it really was overkill. He also sneezed. Out loud and visibly and on camera.
There was a moment of silence before the Gothamite cackled. “Can’t believe I’m actually on site in person when the gag-order gets rescinded. Who woulda thought?”
“Gag-order?!” Shouted several people all at once. Bruce couldn’t quite follow due to the ringing in his ears.
Batman frowned. “There was no gag-order.”
Superman stood and also pressed to the front of his glass prison. “What gag-order, Batman?” He asked all serious and kind and boy-scout-like.
Batman opened his mouth to reply but was cut off by the cursing of the young woman next to him. The Gothamite was very clear in her dislike for Superman and his disappointment in his friends, particularly Gotham’s Bat.
Superman turned doleful eyes on Batman who smirked like he always did when they ran into the Gotham-Metropolis rivalry. Superman deigned to roll his eyes.
“My city’s citizens aren’t like this to you,” Superman muttered.
“Uh, that’s because they’re all sunshine and alien invasions and running away from perfectly playable sport matches just because of a little villainy. Gothamites are tougher stuff. We know how to protect out own.” The Gothamite was glaring at Superman from under her hat, hand tucked in her pocket like she wanted to pull out the concealed weapon there and threaten a national icon directly.
And oh, perhaps there had been a gag-order, if only an inadvertent one. Oracle and Red Robin monitored mentions of the Bats on the internet, of course, and Batman had known there weren’t nearly as many mentions of the Bats as there could be. That the mentions mainly stuck to Gotham-specific sites and programs or referred to his children’s work in other city’s on other teams as not connected to Gotham in the slightest. He just hadn’t quite realized that was intentional. That Goathmites were just as possessive and protective of their heroes as Batman himself was.
“The secrecy wasn’t to protect them,” Batman admitted softly, to the actually concerned Gothamite beside him and to the others watching through the camerawoman’s steady footage. “Not for a while, at least. It was to protect the League.”
The woman tilted her head in the ensuing silence. “That, that seems fair actually.”
“Thank you,” Batman breathed to the shock of his team mates. But, really, of course he worried about his babies. All the arguments they were preparing about revealing identities to their respective teams and allowing them to be connected to each other as Bats were unfortunately valid. The family was strong and a team and very capable.
They were also little monsters. Batman wasn’t entirely sure his second team would be able to keep up.
“What. The. Fuck.” Green Lantern was hovering in his prison with crossed arms. Fishbowl Man was nodding emphatically, far too involved in the drama going on in front of him. Gotham villains could commit to the bit without sacrificing basic situational awareness or their own goals.
“Batman called for help,” summarized Wonder Woman, just slightly awed. “From the other Gotham vigilantes.”
Flash’s mouth dropped open and Superman’s stare got deeper.
Fishbowl Man suddenly snapped out of it. “What?! When.”
“You literally saw him do it,” said the reporter.
“What other Gotham vigilantes? Batman works alone!” Fishbowl Man turned to Flash for support.
Flash shook his head. “I mean, yeah. But also no? He does decently with us, very dependable. So others are possible?”
“There have always been rumours about other Gotham vigilantes,” Superman admitted, “but when Batman didn’t confirm this we figured they were just rumours.”
Which was a mistake. Always go for independent confirmation.
“Five minutes ago,” Batman said, instead of criticizing the Leagues information gathering techniques on live television.
Everyone looked confused at this, excepting the Gothamite grinning with sharp teeth.
Batman tilted his head at Fishbowl Man. “You asked ‘when.’ The answer is five minutes ago.”
“You made your announcement longer than five minutes ago,” the reporter pointed out after checking in with the camerawoman.
“Yes,” agreed Batman, looking down at Fishbowl Man’s feet. “Five minutes ago was when they arrived.”
Fishbowl Man looked down at his own feet, flailing with a scream as the grappling gun pulled taught and his foot was yanked out from under him.
A cackle echoing across the glassware was the poor man’s only response. Fishbowl Man and even the other heroes probably couldn’t tell, but the cackle only echoed because it came from more than one source.
Batman sneezed.
“Bless you,” said two voices.
“Tt,” said another.
“Fuck you,” said one more.
“Hello, children,” said Batman as the Gothamite beside him continued to cackle.