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Chapter Text

Batman was well known for his paranoia among the league, he knew most of them thought it was overkill, that all his plans and his plan’s backup plans were not needed in most cases. Of course that’s what everyone thought until they actually were needed and saved lives. His contingency plans kept people alive, so he kept making them, which eventually led to a slight problem.

His brain told him that if he didn’t have a plan for everything and everyone, people would die, and it would be his fault. It wasn’t really his choice anymore on if he made the plans or not. He had to, or else he’d have even more blood on his hands. It was obsessive, impossible to ignore, the constant horrid images that plagued his brain as he mentally ran in circles around the endless terrible possibilities.

So that’s what he found himself doing, sitting in the Justice League meeting area to avoid Alfred telling him to go to bed while he worked on a contingency plan for if the Watchtower was ever used as a weapon against earth. Of course he had five others he’d planned out over time, but you could never have too many.

Each one was for a different possibility. This one was for if a rogue ever found out a way to weaponize gravity against the Watchtower and use it to drag the Watchtower from space and crash it into the earth, effectively killing thousands. Was it unlikely? Maybe, more than most other things he had planned for.. But it was still a possibility, therefore he had to be prepared.

Though of course he’d learned his lesson about keeping his plans even more well hidden ever since a few were stolen and used against his teammates. Bruce could never allow that to happen again.

“Batman.” A voice called out from behind him, a hint of surprise in the tone, “what are you doing up here so late?”

Wonder Woman.

“Planning.” He responds curtly, he can’t lose his train of thought, if he doesn’t get this plan just right then the possibility of someone dying rises.

Countering a massive space-base slamming into the earth isn’t a simple problem to solve, but Batman never let a challenge defeat him. Though it got harder to focus when Wonder Woman sat on the table next to the journal he was writing in, crossing her legs and looking over at the pages.

Great, his train of thought was effectively cut. He snapped the journal shut and glared up at her.

“What do you want?” He asks, trying to keep the mild annoyance out of his voice. He has to hold himself back from tapping the pen against the table, an annoying fidgety habit. One of Bruce’s, not Batman’s.

“I want you to get some sleep.” Diana glared right back at him, somehow managing to look both concerned and slightly amused.

“I will.” False reassurance, “I just need to get this done.”

“Batman,” she sighs, “We both know you’re lying. Go home and rest.”

Bruce looks down to his closed journal, noting mentally how heavy his eyes felt, as if they were being weighed down by rocks. What time was it? How long had he been up? He wasn't usually one to forget details like that.

Nodding in resignation, he grumbled out a halfhearted-”I will.”

Wonder Woman looked at him skeptically before standing to leave, “Goodnight.” She called out as she did so.

He’d meant it when he said it, the goal was for him to leave and finally get some much needed rest. Only, the plan was incomplete. If he left it incomplete that could spell disaster.

It could happen tomorrow, the odds were low but it would be just his luck that he wouldn’t have the plan ready when he would need it. Then people would die, a lot of people. The blame would fall to him, because he was supposed to know better, to always be prepared. And if the Watchtower hit earth, depending on where the earth was facing at the time being, it could hit Gotham.

His entire family, gone again in the blink of an eye. He’d have to live with that guilt for the rest of his life. But could he? If that much guilt was weighing him down would he survive it? He could barely even survive the loss of-

The sound of writing filled the empty room again, pencil on paper. He was getting this plan done tonight, he needed to. The lives of everyone in Gotham depended on it. Because not having the plan ready made it more likely to happen.

Illogical. Bruce knew his mind was running in empty circles, screaming about death and guilt that would never actually exist. Yet he could never stop it.

He barely even heard Wonder Woman’s disappointed sigh from behind him as she walked past the still open door leading to the meeting room.

“What’s got you so occupied?” Her voice echoed from where she stood.

“Lives are at stake.” Not really, but they could be. It was up to him to fix that.

“Anything that requires assistance?”

“No.”

“Very well.” She responds before walking off once more. He hears it clearly when the zeta tube announces her departure.

He couldn’t stop, not yet. He was so close to being done and then he could take a break. If he took a break before he finished writing, the plan would become tainted, and he’d have to start over again.

Bruce just had to finish this one plan. Then he could go home and sleep.

____________________

Diana had learned long ago that when Batman was making his contingency plans, there wasn’t much that could get him to stop. Don’t get her wrong, she was a fan of being prepared as well. But with Batman it felt.. off.

Like his mind refused to allow any other action until whatever thing he was writing down had been completed. It was worrying to her, especially as she noticed it more and more over the years.

Even as she’d tried to convince him to sleep she knew he wouldn’t listen. Her mysterious friend never stopped planning, and she was starting to see it less as “a healthy dose of paranoia” as Batman sometimes put it, and more of a cause for concern.

She should talk to the others about it sometime. Diana wondered if they had noticed this behavior as well. It was slowly rising on her list of priorities, but since Batman wasn’t in any real danger she didn’t see the harm in waiting a little longer.

Chapter Text

tap tap tap- tap

No, that wasn’t right. 

tap tap tap- tap

Why was it still wrong? Was he tapping differently than usual? Did the sound of the tapping change? 

Bruce knew he needed to be paying attention to the meeting happening around him, it was incredibly hypocritical for him to get on the others for not paying attention only for himself to not focus on the subject at hand. 

But he just couldn’t focus, not until he got it right. 

tap tap tap- tap

His gloved nail tapped the bottom of the table lightly. He did so every meeting, usually before the talking even began. There wasn’t any true reason for it other than what he assumed was a habit. 

The air of the space station was cold around him, the voices muffled as he drowned them out to focus on one small thing. 

tap tap tap- tap

Again. 

Three taps with his pointer finger, one tap with his middle finger. Just once before the meeting. However, after the meeting had started, he’d gotten that wriggling sensation in the back of his head, an annoying pressure. A feeling of- you didn’t do it right. 

So he did it again. 

There was something off with that one. 

And again. 

Not right. Try again. 

And again. 

If the meeting had been anything more important he probably would’ve been able to ignore it. That’s what he tells himself, however Superman was currently discussing security updates. Security updates Batman himself had designed. Which left him with nothing truly important to focus on other than- 

tap tap tap- tap  

Why was it so difficult to get this right? One would think the hardest part of his days would be getting beat every night, yet what he seemed to struggle with the most was tapping on the table just right. Bruce didn’t even know what just right was. Was it the sound? The feeling? Something he couldn’t calculate?

tap tap tap- tap

No. That wasn’t it either. He could feel himself getting more frustrated, his eyes practically burning holes into the table as he stared down at it, keeping his face carefully blank. 

tap tap- “Batman, do you have anything to input?” Superman’s voice cut through Bruce’s downward spiral. 

He had to hold himself back from tapping again, the process being interrupted felt physically gross, wrong. He needed to get it right, he couldn’t stop until he did. 

“No. You have it covered.” At least, Batman thought he did. He hadn’t actually been paying attention. 

Bruce glances up, eyes locking with Clark’s. He looked worried. At what? 

tap tap- Oh. Superman’s face twitches slightly when Batman starts tapping again. It hadn’t even occurred to him that Superman would be able to hear the almost completely silent tapping coming from where Batman sat. 

His eyes narrow slightly at Superman, daring him to say something. 

But of course the other doesn’t. Instead looking away, back towards the rest of the league. Clark's more timid nature followed him even as Superman. It’s not a bad thing really. He knows Clark and Superman’s identities aren’t kept as separate as Batman’s and Bruce Wayne’s are. 

Which is why this behavior from himself was so.. bothersome. Bruce Wayne was fidgety, Bruce Wayne tapped tables over and over, clicked pens until he got it just right, knocked on doors in strange patterns. Batman did none of those things. At least, he wasn’t supposed to. 

tap tap tap- tap

Wrong again. Superman glances back over at him. Superman should really mind his own business. Sometimes Bruce’s greatest weakness was his own damn brain. 

tap tap tap- tap  

Yes! His entire body relaxed slightly, and he held in a sigh of relief. Bruce couldn’t pinpoint what made that one different from any of the others before it, but something about it had appeased his brain. At least until the next meeting. He could only hope he wouldn’t be stuck in that loop again next time. Or any time after. 

The meeting finally came to a close and Batman stood up, fully ready to speed walk out of there before he could risk behaving any more out of character than he already had. Though of course things could never be that simple for him. 

“Batman, can I talk to you for a sec?” Batman resisted the urge to roll his eyes and groan in annoyance like a kid. 

“Ohhh, Spooky’s in trouble!” Green Lantern jeered. Batman did roll his eyes at that. 

“No one’s in trouble.” Clark reassured, as if Bruce had actually thought he was. 

“Are you feeling okay? I noticed you were a little uh, restless, during the meeting.” Clark started after everyone else had left. 

Great, a little bit of tapping and now Superman probably thought he was dying. Maybe he could kill Superman and avoid this entire interaction. A very dramatic reaction, he needed to keep intrusive thoughts out of his head. 

“I’m fine, just a bit preoccupied.” He admitted. Though he would never tell him what he had been preoccupied with. 

The last thing he needed was his team thinking he was unfit just because he got caught up in his head sometimes. 

“Preoccupied? With what?” Clark asked… interrogatingly. At least that’s how Batman saw it. 

“Nothing of your concern, I have it handled.” And he did, for the most part. 

Bruce really did not want to talk about this, he needed an exit. Clark opened his mouth, ready to ask another question, before Batman cut him off.

“I’m needed in Gotham, I can assure you, I’m ok.” 

Ah Gotham, good ol reliable. The league always believed him when he said he was needed in Gotham. Probably because Gotham needed help 24/7, making it always the perfect excuse to dip. 

“Is there ever a time you’re not needed in Gotham?” Superman asks, raising an eyebrow. 

“No.” 

Batman spins around and smoothly makes his way to the exit. Extracting himself from the interrogation. He didn’t see Clark’s worried gaze following him as he walked out of sight. 

____________________

Well that.. could have gone a lot better. It also could have gone worse. Still, Clark felt like he’d failed that entire interaction. He’d been aware of Batman’s small habit for awhile, hard not to with his super hearing. Just a small tapping before a meeting starts. 

This time was weird though. Distracting. He could tell Batman hadn’t really been paying attention to what was being said at all, which was incredibly strange for him. The man who locked onto every detail, analyzed every small thing, always had something to add, just sat in silence tapping his fingers against the table the entire time. 

It was unnatural in Clark's eyes. He couldn’t help but worry about what had his friend so preoccupied. Of course he hadn’t gotten anything out of him though, having a conversation with Batman when he didn’t want to talk was more difficult than finding a needle in a haystack. 

Sometimes it’s best to observe the man from afar and try to connect the dots yourself than attempt a conversation. Batman was good at what he did but a simple “what’s wrong?” has him acting like he’s in a police interrogation room. 

Emotions are not Batman’s strong suit. 

Clark figures maybe that should be addressed at some point, but whenever anyone tries they get brushed off or scolded for not minding their own business. He lets out a sigh, still standing in the empty room. 

He should talk to Diana.

Chapter Text

Batman valued himself on being unpredictable, it kept his enemies guessing, made himself hard to track, even harder to prepare for. In fact, Batman was so unpredictable with about everything he did, even Bruce couldn’t predict him. 

His patrol routes, his room checks, his surveillance. They didn’t run on a schedule, instead it ran off feeling. 

If his brain told him to wait longer before patrolling a certain route again, he would. If it told him to take the same route he did last time because no one would expect it, he would. It was all based on if he felt he had waited long enough to do it again, and the length of the wait was always shifting. 

Batman did sweeps of the watchtower weekly, searching each and every room for any bug or camera not supposed to be there. He did it both randomly and not randomly at the same time. 

On the outside it looked like he did it at random times on random days, but internally it was all calculated. He couldn’t let any possible threat know when he would search. 

He was thinking of doing it on Tuesday this week, it would’ve been the easiest day for him. However his mind told him that he’d done Tuesday too recently, so they would be expecting it. It wasn’t safe to do Tuesday. He didn’t know who the “they” was but he didn’t need to, he had to be prepared for anyone and anything. 

In the end the plan was to do it on Friday, he didn’t know what time yet, he always waited until last second to decide what time of the day he was going to search. Just in case. Only to have his entire process completely fucked up on Thursday. Because good things never last, not for Batman. 

“Oh don’t worry about checking for bugs or whatever this week, Spooks, I decided I’d help you out for once.” Came Hal Jordan’s semi-annoying voice. 

The words made him freeze. 

“You did what?” He turned his head slowly to stare at the other man. Begging internally for Green Lantern to tell him he hadn’t, that he was just making more of his bad jokes. But no. 

“Yeah, figured you’re probably tired of doing it by yourself so I did it for you this week.” 

How… strangely nice. Which was why he wasn’t going to punch Hal, he definitely wasn’t thinking about punching the Green Lantern, and he most definitely was not having an internal crisis. 

He couldn’t trust Green Lanterns search, he would need to do it himself. How could he explain that to Hal without coming off as ungrateful? If anyone had been attempting to spy on them this week and had managed to break into the watchtower to plant bugs, Hal definitely at best would’ve missed them, and at worst tipped them off. 

No more Friday search, he would have to do it right now to make sure there wasn’t anything Hal could’ve messed up because he most definitely did not know the specific ways Bruce searched each room. It was an important ritual. 

“Next time save yourself the trouble.” And now he sounded like an asshole. 

Hal scoffed and rolled his eyes, “seriously man? I finally decide to help you out and this is how you respond.” 

Batman just hummed, unsure how to respond without sounding like a weirdo or even more of an asshole. Batman was a being of little words, mainly because talking to people was not something he enjoyed.

“Asshole.” Hal grumbled as he walked away. Batman let out a small sigh, he would be lying if he said he didn’t feel at least a little guilty. 

He had to start the search immediately though, and he had to do it right. Images of the league's battered corpses crawled into his brain, like a bothersome pop-up ad with no x button. He tried to shove them down as he went through his search routine a bit faster than usual. 

Bruce knew his brain was being dramatic, pushing these gruesome thoughts and images into the front of his mind, telling him that if he didn’t do this now and do this right then the thoughts he couldn’t shove down would come to fruition. 

Oh god, if they knew Hal was the one who searched for the bugs would they target him first? Despite Batman and Green Lanterns frequent disagreements, Green Lantern was still an important part of the team. He was someone people cared about. And Hal just put himself in possible danger by trying to do something nice for Batman. 

He let out a resigned sigh. 

It felt like he was always worrying about something, planning for disaster, it never stopped. Bruce was exhausted, he just wanted a break, he wanted to curl up in bed and let the world handle itself for a bit. But Batman could never stop, never risk what would happen If he did. So he continued to search the rooms and halls that Green Lantern had already searched. 

Bruce did his best to ignore the catastrophic thoughts that plagued him the entire time he did so. 

____________________

Hal Jordan was pissed, and a bit confused. Heaven forbid he try to actually help the Bat out for once, and even then that ungrateful ass didn’t appreciate it. Not even a thank you, no sign of any positive emotion in sight. What a weird dude.

He let out a frustrated sigh as he watched Batman meticulously pick through every single nook and cranny, scouring every inch of the watchtower. Hal didn’t even know why the Bat went through all the trouble, it wasn’t like someone would be able to get to the watchtower in space , break in without setting anything off, plant bugs, and then break out, again without any detection. Yet every week without fail the Bat wasted probably over an hour searching. 

The man had the worst case of paranoia Hal had ever seen, and that was saying something considering the people he worked with. 

“Ah, what’d Batman do to piss you off this time?” The sound of Superman’s voice snapped Hal out of his thoughts, and made him aware of how hard he was glaring at the security camera screens.

“I swear, Supes, no good deed goes unpunished in this world.” 

The larger man tilts his head, “Isn’t that a bit dramatic?” 

“Seriously man, I tried to do the weekly watchtower search for him this time and he acted like I lit his dog on fire.” He huffs, resting his face on his hand. 

Superman hums in acknowledgment, “yeah, he tends to have a thing about doing everything himself.” 

“You’d think he’d like to take a break from being an ass at some point.” 

“I think it’s just how his brain works.” 

Hal rolled his eyes,”I don’t know, In my humble opinion he’s just a dickhead.” 

Maybe Bat’s brain did work like that, and he was just incapable of not being a massive douche. That wasn’t right though, Batman proved he had the capability to be nice with how he interacted with the people he saved. 

“We’ve noticed a few unhealthy uh, habits of his.” Superman started, “we’re thinking of talking to him about it sometime.” 

“Who’s we?” This was the first time Hal was hearing about it. 

“Me and Wonder Woman. It’s not like an intervention or anything, we’re just worried.” 

Wonder Woman and Superman confronting Batman over his constant wildass paranoid behavior? Sign him up! 

“Sure I’ll see if anyone else has ‘concerns’ with Spooky boy’s behavior.” 

Chapter Text

Bruce felt.. guilty. It was a feeling he tried to avoid as much as possible, which was probably not unusual for people to do, seeing as it’s an unpleasant emotion. Yet for once Batman didn’t know what to do in this situation, he was stuck, frozen in a state of guilty panic trying to figure out how to go about this.

Sat in front of him was a simple mug, and in that mug was coffee. Coffee that Barry had made for Batman. Coffee that Bruce did not see him make. He didn’t know if it was even made in the watchtower or if it had been acquired someplace else.

That was the issue. Bruce did not know where it was made, what ingredients were used, and where it had been between when it was made and when it was given to him. The first place his brain went to was poison. Not that he thought Barry would ever poison him, god no, but it could still be contaminated.

Something could’ve gotten into it by accident, or someone could’ve put something in it without Barry knowing. The coffee beans themselves could’ve been tainted for all he knew. Which meant if he drank that, he could die. Bruce very obviously did not want to die, but he also did not want to waste a nice gesture like this.

Another instance of one of the league trying to be kind to him and him being an ungrateful dick. It was even worse this time because Barry was arguably one of Batman’s favorite teammates.

He couldn’t stand the thought of just dumping it out, the Flash would probably find out and be hurt by it. But he couldn’t drink it either without having any background on it.

So there he was, staring at the still steaming cup. He wouldn’t lie and say it wasn’t tempting, he had been craving coffee for awhile now. Yet despite how illogical he knew this paranoia was, he couldn’t push past it.

His finger twitched, but he didn’t reach for it.

Why had Barry given him coffee anyway? Did Batman look tired? Was Flash planning something? The league had learned long ago that Batman did not accept anything meant to be consumed from them. It was easier to just throw those things away and ignore them back then because he had no real connection with the members.

Now however, it was less simple. Maybe Barry thought they were good enough friends that Batman would accept something like this. Bruce would’ve, he wanted to, but he just couldn’t. No matter how hard he tried he couldn’t bring himself to push past the raging ocean of paranoia that was his mind.

He was spiraling again, he knew he was. All over something so simple.

Was this a test of some sorts? Was Flash seeing if Batman really cared about him by offering him this? Or was he testing to see if Bruce was intelligent enough to avoid being poisoned. What if that hadn’t even been Barry, it wouldn’t be the first time that he’d dealt with shapeshifters impersonating his friend.

But he acted like Barry, had his powers, his speech patterns, his body language. Even had the tracker Batman put on him ages ago. Bruce checked as soon as Barry had left the room. All checked out, and all evidence pointed to the fact that the coffee was just regular plain coffee, and that Flash was just trying to do something nice.

He let out a quiet frustrated sigh and reached out to grab the cup and pull it towards himself. He stared down at it, as if it might reveal all the answers to his questions if he batglared hard enough at it.

“Heyy.. you good, man?” Barry’s voice asked from behind him. Batman hadn’t even noticed him zip back into the room.

A million questions ran through his head. Why did you give me this? Is this a test? If I don’t drink it will you hate me? If I do, will I die? Where did you get this from? How long ago was it made? How sure are you that this is not contaminated?

Instead he just grunted a confirmation, like usual. It was easier that way.

“Oookay, well I’ll just let Superman know you’re occupied at the moment.” He let out a nervous chuckle before speeding off. Bruce just sighed.

An idea suddenly hit him, one so extra but obvious he didn’t know why he hadn’t thought of it sooner. He had many ways to check for poison and ingredients in the batcave, so that’s exactly what he should do.

Batman abruptly stood up, still gripping the coffee mugs handle as he walked to the zeta tube. If he checked all the ingredients at his own personal lab then that should confirm whether it was safe to consume or not.

Some would call him a dramatic overly paranoid rich bitch with issues, he agreed but at least he wasn’t dead.

___________________

When Hal told Barry about the “Spooky’s extreme paranoia intervention meeting” he’d been very confused. Batman was paranoid, that was just… Batman. It was how he was and always had been in the years that they had known him. So it was a bit odd they only just now decided it was something intervention worthy.

Sure it probably wasn’t that healthiest to be worried 24/7 but the man had his reasons and Barry respected him and his dedication. Though when GL pointed out certain behaviors he’d noticed over time, Barry couldn’t help but start to agree a little.

He’d always known the man was obsessive but geez you think he’d collapse with how much he’s constantly doing. Whenever the guy ever does sit down he’s always planning something or going over reports.

GL had given him an idea when he brought up Batman’s resistance against any snacks or drinks offered to him. It had been ages since they tried to give him anything, the last attempts being back when they didn’t quite trust each other, it was understandable that a paranoid bat dude most people thought was a myth wouldn’t be too receptive to those kinds of things.

Barry liked to think they were closer now, or that Batman at least trusted him. So he made him a cup of coffee, both because the man probably hadn’t slept in days, and to see how he would react to it.

What he wasn’t expecting was for him to not react at all. The man stopped what he was doing and stared blankly at the drink for a total of 34 minutes. The longest 34 minutes of Barry’s life. Before he grabbed the mug and walked out, the zeta tube announced his departure a minute later.

He would’ve felt more hurt about the lack of trust if he didn’t understand it. He felt like Batman’s trust issues were similar to his inability to stay still or his struggles with paying attention for long periods of time. It wasn’t something he was fully in control of, which in the end was why Barry was on board with this “intervention”, Batman clearly needed some sort of help with whatever he was dealing with.

He was just shocked he’d never noticed before then, he knew he wasn’t the brightest bulb of the bunch but after hangin around the guy for years you would think he’d have noticed.

Oh well, hopefully Batman would feel comfortable telling them what was happening with him.

Chapter Text

Each member of the league had their own personal room, and each room had a mechanical lock, one that could be activated and deactivated with voice recognition. Of course, that hadn’t been enough for Bruce. 

Batman deemed it not safe, easy to bypass with the right skills or meta ability, and so he installed about 4 other separate locks on his door specifically. Two that used complex keys, one that scanned the bottom half of his face and one that required a fingerprint. He kept important documents and information in his room at times, dangerous weapons, unfinished experiments, it was best no one had access to it but him. 

Of course he hadn’t thought it all through when installing those locks, because if he had truly been smart about it, he wouldn’t have installed locks with keys. Sure it made it a lot more difficult to break into, but it was also a.. he didn’t want to say trigger. It was aggravating.

Physical locks were his worst enemy, if there was a key to turn, his brain would fixate. So he shouldn’t have been as annoyed as he was when the thoughts started up. Bruce should have been ready for them. 

He’d just stacked a pile of new backup plans and locked them in one of his drawers before leaving and locking his room when it started. He was honestly shocked it hadn’t been provoked sooner.

Did you lock the door? 

Yes, he did. 

Are you sure? 

He was pretty sure, but at the same time now he wasn’t. He found himself doubting his memories. 

You should check . 

He should check. So he did, he put the key in the top keyhole and turned it, it unlocked. He turned it again, locked. He locked the door. 

What if something went wrong with the locking mechanism? 

It didn't. 

How do you know? It wouldn’t hurt to check again. 

It would hurt, it’d hurt his dignity. He checked again, unlocking, locking.

How do you know the door still won’t open? 

It won’t. Bruce pulled on the door, it didn’t budge. It wouldn’t open. He started walking away. 

What about the bottom lock? 

He froze a few steps away from the door, Bruce had pulled the door, it didn’t open. He didn’t need to check the bottom lock. 

But isn’t it better safe than sorry?

It usually was. And if that lock really was left unlocked then all they would have to do was figure out how to pick the top lock. It would be difficult but not impossible, then all they would need to do was mimic half of Batman’s face, his fingerprint, and voice. 

He spun around and walked back up to the door, his footsteps echoing through the empty hallway. Batman pulled out the other key and put it in the bottom keyhole. Turn, unlocked, turn, locked. It was locked . He pulled the door, it was locked. 

Batman didn’t even start to walk away before- 

What if the bottom lock didn’t lock properly?

It did! He knew it did! Unlocked, locked. Tug on the door, it didn’t open. He could feel that wriggling sensation in the back of his head, that do it again , the you didn’t do it right, the graphic images of what could happen if he truly didn’t lock the door right and someone broke into his space. 

“Batman, are you feeling alright?” A woman’s voice called out, shocking Bruce out of his thoughts. 

Up in the rafters sat Hawkwoman, perched like an all seeing god, or like a bird. Dread suddenly flooded him and his stomach dropped, she had seen that. There’s no way she hadn’t. If she had moved at all he would have heard or sensed it, meaning she had been up there for a while. Who’s genius idea was it, to put things you could hide on, on the ceiling of a secret superhero base? An idiot obviously. 

Sure it was probably a good to help keep the building intact but from a hero perspective that was asking to be ambushed.

How did he respond without sounding like an idiot?

“Locking the door.” Great going, nailed it, no shit he was locking the door what else would he have been doing? 

“I figured,” Shayera tilted her head, she didn’t look judgemental at all, more intrigued, “how many times do you need to lock that door?” 

“Too many.” He grumbled, trying to ignore the itch as he glared at the door before looking back up to her. 

The door didn’t lock properly. 

Bruce couldn’t hold back the frustrated groan as he slammed his head against the door in frustration, not even caring if Hawkwoman saw. He was so done with this, but it wasn’t done with him. 

“I’ll just… leave you to that.” She responded hesitantly before standing and jumping down, wings fluttering as she walked past where Batman still stood with his head against the door. He let out a sigh of relief after she was out of sight. Bruce wasn’t religious yet he still prayed that she wouldn’t tell anyone about his breakdown. 

He let out another exasperated sigh. 

Unlock, locked. Unlock, locked. Tug on the door, it doesn’t open. It’s locked, he locked it, no one can get in. 

Batman turns and leaves. 

The door is locked. 

____________________

Shayera was left pondering over what it was she’d just seen. Sure, Batman had been spotted acting strange before, but never strange like that. Her wings fluffed behind her in slight discomfort, something about the behavior she’d witnessed was so odd, out of character for the brave yet overly cautious man she’d grown to respect. 

What had he been doing? Was the lock broken? Did the door really need to be locked that many times? She didn’t think that was it, considering Batman had turned and started leaving multiple times before going back to lock it again. Batman wouldn’t have forgotten how many times his door needed to be locked, so he wouldn’t have walked away unless he’d already finished locking it. He’d also seemed very.. agitated.

Maybe Shayera was overthinking it, or maybe Batman had been compromised in some way. The odd behavior, the rare show of real emotion, and inability to figure out his own lock would make sense if he was being controlled or if someone had taken his place. 

Though his heartbeat and overall mannerisms seemed accurate. So far no shapeshifter had managed to nail down Batman’s body language and heartbeat perfectly. Still, she should talk to Superman or Diana about it. Just in case. 

Chapter Text

Bruce was most likely overthinking it, he knew he was as he paced restlessly through the cave. A million thoughts racing through his head. The cave around him was cold, a bit damp in places, it was grounding at times. He let out a breath, and paused his pacing. Bruce knew if he kept this up he would work himself into a panic, but what was he supposed to think? 

He turned his head slightly to look at the batcomputer, it’s screen glowing at him through the cave, still left on the email he’d opened around an hour ago. 

“Batman, 

I apologize for calling this meeting last minute, but it’s important. Nothing bad has happened, however most of the Justice League will be there and I hope you’ll join us. 

-Superman” 

A seemingly innocent email, but Bruce knew better. He wasn’t an idiot. Superman didn’t usually call meetings like this, nor did he email Batman personally about it, or assure him “nothing bad has happened”. It felt like when you were pulled aside by an adult and told “you’re not in trouble”, usually that meant nothing good had happened. Usually it meant you were in trouble. 

He started pacing again. 

One, two, three, four, five steps forward. 

He turns. 

One, two, three, four, five steps back. 

Repeat. 

Five was a good number, he couldn’t make himself pace with any more or less steps than five. He didn’t know what would happen if he did, but his brain told him five was safe. It made him a little less anxious.

One, two, three, four, five steps forward. 

Turn.

One, two, three, four, five steps back. 

Again. 

His kids often joked he was going to pace a hole into the ground with how often he paced in that exact spot with those exact number of steps. 

He was getting distracted.

Superman’s email. There was something wrong, something Clark wasn’t telling him, maybe it wasn’t even Superman at all and this was some kind of trap. Should he just ignored it? Would it be smarter for him to just stay in Gotham? 

One, two, three, four, five steps forward. 

No, that would be out of character for him, not to mention plain rude. Though Batman wasn’t known for caring that much about how others felt, Bruce considered Superman a friend, he didn’t want to hurt him by not appearing if it really was just a normal email. What about this sudden meeting had Superman acting out of character? 

One, two, three, four, five steps back. 

There wasn’t anything of note that’d happened recently that really warranted a full Justice League meeting. This was why Batman preferred to work with family, things like this didn’t happen in the house. Dick never sent him weird emails telling him nothing bad had happened but he was expected to show up. 

His brain was running a mile a minute and he found himself tapping his finger against his thigh in time with his steps. 

One, two, three, four, five steps forward. 

The meeting was in an hour and a half. He'd gotten that message two hours ago, had opened it around one hour ago, and had been thinking about it ever since. 4 hours notice was not a lot for a full Justice League meeting but Superman was aware that Batman did not have any big responsibilities today. 

“Master Bruce, I suggest you take a break from pacing, the floor can only handle so much.” 

Alfred’s soothing voice broke through his hurricane of worried thoughts. His gaze snapped up off the floor and over to the entrance of the Batcave where Alfred stood. 

“I can’t think of any good reason Superman would have to call a meeting so late.” 

“Perhaps the League is having trouble with a new villian.” Alfred suggested as he walked past Bruce to look at the still open email.

“I don’t think so, Superman specified it wasn’t anything like that.” Bruce rubbed the bridge of his nose. 

“So it seems.” Alfred hummed, “but I don’t think it is anything to get worked up over, sir.”

“It’s unlike Superman to pull a move like this, what if he’s been compromised?” He asked, worry slipping through his voice as he walked over to Alfred. 

“I would be inclined to suspicion as well had I not just seen him battling a talking gorilla on the news.” 

“It could be fake, an act.” 

“It could be, or perhaps the League just wants to see you about something that’s not a worldwide threat.” 

That was even worse. Batman was not a social person and he did not want to hang out with the league. How could he get out of it? Superman hadn’t demanded he be there but that email was hint enough that he was expected. Maybe he could fake a critical injury. He could fake his death. Blow up the watchtower. Kill the-

Bruce shook his head sharply at the thoughts. No, not now. He needed real plans not unwanted violent images. 

“Master Bruce,” Alfred put his hand on Bruce’s shoulder, “don’t let your fear control you, if things truly are wrong with Superman you won’t have to take it on alone.” 

“I know, Alfred. Either way I’d prefer not to go.” He sits down in the chair in front of the batcomputer, letting Alfred’s hand slide off his shoulder. 

“I think it may be good for you, Master Bruce.” 

“Maybe.” He mumbled, staring harshly at the email as if hoping it would suddenly reveal all the answers  

“I’ll make you some tea, then you should really consider joining the League.” Which was Alfred for saying, I know you’re worried but you’re going to that meeting. Hopefully he really was just overthinking it. 

Alfred left the batcave and Bruce stood up from his chair to walk back to his pacing spot. 

One, two, three, four, five steps forward. 

____________________

J’onn already knew this wouldn’t go as smoothly as Superman was hoping. When he and Green Arrow had gotten back from a mission that had ended up being on the longer side, Superman had almost immediately informed them of the meeting he was planning on holding. J’onn could only respond with hesitation. 

He cared about Batman, he was a respected and trusted teammate, one who had saved him and the others on many occasions. The only reason he agreed to join was because of the worry and hope radiating from the other man. Though J’onn knew his presence would only serve to make Batman more nervous. 

Talking to a man as paranoid as Batman about his paranoia with a mind reader in the room wasn’t typically bound to end well. He knew Batman didn’t mean any harm by his distaste of that particular power, it just came with the unrelenting cautiousness that followed the bat everywhere he went. 

Arrow had of course immediately agreed, a hint of curiosity was in the air around the man, he was definitely wanting to know what was going on with Batman. J’onn would be lying if he said he wasn’t the least bit curious himself. 

Despite doing his best to give his teammates privacy, sometimes he would catch unexpected hints of emotion or thought. It was inevitable but he still felt a bit guilty about it. 

The emotions he’d sensed from Batman had always been clouded, muddled, difficult to decipher, and J’onn had never attempted to look deeper. He was happy to leave it a mystery, but he would be a liar to say he’d missed on the behavior the others were worried about. 

Honestly he was surprised it’d taken them this long to notice how concerning Batman’s paranoia was. This wasn’t just an overly cautious man, this was a person practically controlled by “what if”. It was certainly no healthy way to live, but once again it hadn’t been his place to pry. 

Now, however, it seemed like everyone had decided it was something worth prying into. So there he sat, in the meeting room surrounded by Superman, Wonder Woman, Flash, Green Lantern, and Green Arrow. The members who had worked with Batman the longest and were arguably the closest to the mysterious man. Though Green Lantern was debatable, J’onn was sure the man was just there to attempt learning something new about Batman. They had a rather interesting rivalry. 

“Are we sure this is a good plan, Superman? I mean, don’t get me wrong I’m all for helping out the Bats but I don’t think he’s really one for being helped out.” Flash piped up, fidgeting with his thumbs nervously. As anxious as always. 

“Oh c'mon, Spooks just needs to get that stick outta his ass and learn he can’t handle everything himself.” Green Lantern rolled his eyes. 

“That’s not what this is about,” Superman sighed, “I’m just worried about him, he must be exhausted with all that he’s constantly doing.” 

“We know, Superman” Wonder Woman rested her hand on Superman’s shoulder comfortingly, “But Flash has a point, he likely won’t be too receptive to our questions or concern. We need to go about this carefully.” 

“Are we really sure we should be doing this as a group?” Green Arrow asked from beside J’onn. 

Wonder Woman took her hand off Superman’s shoulder to cross her arms, “We’re people he hopefully knows he can trust, if we all talk to him about it together maybe it’ll open his eyes to how bad this has all gotten.”

“You all act as if this is unusual behavior that only just recently started”, J’onn mused, finally joining the conversation, “he’s always acted like this.” 

Did they truly think this was anything new? The contingency plans, the constant monitoring, the always being prepared for anything and everything, the having to do it just right, how had it slipped past them all? 

“Ah geez, I feel like a lousy friend.” Flash sighed as he rested his head on the table. 

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, Flash,” Superman spoke in a reassuring voice, though J’onn could feel some guilt in it, “we all just kinda assumed it wasn’t anything to be worried about.” 

Superman stood up to address the room. “Before Batman gets here, let’s all agree to be cautious about this, we all know how he gets with uh, honestly anything to do with emotions.” 

“So treat him like a cornered animal. Got it.” Green Lantern smirked. 

“I’m being serious, let’s just go slow, don’t dog pile him.” He sat back down. 

Just in time too as the doors opened and Batman finally walked in. Not a minute early or a minute late. Typical for him, but J’onn could feel stress practically radiating from the man, which made him even more concerned. He’d never felt Batman this stressed before, not even in the heat of battle. Usually Batman was more on top of suppressing these things. 

J’onn did his best to block it out. 

“Superman,” Batman greeted as he sat in his chair, “what’s this meeting about?” 

As always, straight to the point. Something J’onn had admittedly admired about the man.

“Ah, Batman, welcome!” Superman said as he gave the other his most winning smile, “You’re probably wondering why I called this meeting, I mean of course you’re wondering. I know it’s pretty out of the ordinary but I promise it’s nothing uh, bad.”

Superman rambled. J’onn didn’t need any powers to know how nervous the man was, he definitely wasn’t helping his case with his current performance. He could feel Batman’s stress increase, a little bit of anxiety joining the mix of emotions. Sour and twisting, anxiety was never a pleasant emotion. Like a leech that somehow managed to squirm its way through any crack it could find. 

“We were just hoping we could talk to you? Not that you did anything wrong, that’s not what I’m saying,” Green Lantern face palmed, Flash looked like he’d rather be anywhere else, Batman’s anxiety increased.”We’ve just noticed a few things that were kinda… concerning.” 

“What Superman is trying to say-“ Wonder Woman to the rescue, “is that we’ve noticed some behavior we believe is a bit worrying, and we were hoping there was some way we could help you.” 

J’onn winced internally at the wording, Batman didn’t usually accept help he didn’t ask for, and it took a lot to get that stubborn man to ask for help. 

“What is this,” Batman’s eyes narrowed, “an interrogation?” 

“Oh of course you’d think it was an interrogation, heaven forbid someone care about you.” Green Lantern grumbled. Batman immediately turned to glare at the other man. 

“We’re not interrogating you, Bats, we’re just having a casual conversation about some strange things we’ve noticed.” Flash piped up. 

“Well it’s none of your business.” Batman growled. If J’onn didn’t know any better he’d assume Batman was angry. He did know better though, and Batman was not angry. 

It seemed this sudden questioning left Batman stunned, leaving his mind more open. Open enough for J’onn to feel the anxiety increase enough to be considered fear. Under that emotion, J’onn finally started to pick up on words. 

Weak. Interrogation. Pathetic. Do it right. 

J’onn did not like what he was hearing, but if he spoke up he knew it would only remind Batman to reinforce his mental walls. 

“It became our business when those plans of yours leaked.” Green Lantern glared right back,”all those consequences for your actions and you still make them all the time, like you didn’t almost get us killed.” 

Maybe there was more resentment there than J’onn had realized.

“Woah, calm down.” Green Arrow raised his hands placatingly, “we got that situation figured out, no need to open old wounds.” 

Batman stayed quiet, now staring at the table instead of any of the members. J’onn could swear he heard a faint tapping noise echoing through the room. He paid it no mind. 

Had to. Right. Not trustworthy. Unforgivable. 

“Okay, getting a little off topic guys,” Superman interrupted, "we just wanted to know what was going on with you Batman. I know a lot of us consider you a friend.” 

“Yeah man, you’re an important part of the team.” Flash grinned. J’onn could swear he heard the tapping get a little louder, yet it was still so faint it was barely there. 

“I.. appreciate the concern, but there is nothing wrong.” Batman stated, as if that would fool any of them. The tapping gets louder, so do the thoughts. The thoughts of interrogation, of weakness, of being cornered. Yet above all that, there was a circling obsession. 

Do it again. You didn’t do it right. Again. 

It seemed to play in time with the tapping. 

That tap tap tap- tap. You didn’t do it right. Again.

J’onn had never felt such a compelling compulsion before, it was like it was attempting to pull him into the motion as well and he couldn’t help but actively look deeper. 

Underneath the, do it again . Was, something bad will happen if you don’t do this. It will be your fault. Blood on your hands. I’m so tired, I want to stop. You can’t stop, do it again. Get it right, it's not that difficult. This hurts my head. Why is it always like this? Because if you don’t something bad will happen. 

He had been so sucked in he’d tuned out what the others were saying, but he was almost 100% sure the tapping noise was coming from Batman. He’d never experienced something like this before, and he decided he had something to test.

J'onn's right hand rested on the table, and he lifted a finger to much more audibly tap what Batman had been repetitively tapping. 

Tap tap tap- tap. 

Batman froze, his head snapping toward J’onn, pure panic suddenly flared from him. If J’onn wasn’t well trained he would’ve flinched from the sudden wave up mindreader. Mindreader. He can read your mind, he knows what you think, he knows you’re terrible. No, don't think about that. He hears your thoughts.

Before a sudden wall slammed down harshly over Batman’s mind, and it was silent once more. This was what J’onn was used to from the man. 

“Batman,” J’onn started to talk, everyone had quieted down when Batman had so suddenly shifted his attention to the Martian, “I don’t mean to invade, but I get the feeling there’s more going on than just paranoia. This isn’t healthy, you know we won’t judge you, we’re here to listen and to support.” 

“I don’t need support.” Batman all but growled the words. 

“Everyone needs support, Batman.” Wonder Woman said gently, “just please tell us what’s wrong.” 

Batman hesitated before letting out a resigned sigh, it seemed they finally got through to him, which was practically a miracle considering who he was. And it seemed like Batman believed in the ripping the bandaid off method because- 

“I have ocd.”

____________________

“Wait, what?!” Hal yelled from where he sat, causing Oliver to wince. 

That was not what he would consider an appropriate reaction to their closed off friend finally admitting to something about himself. Especially something as serious as Ocd. Oliver was no expert, he would never claim to be, but he had been around it a lot of his life and many things about Batman’s behavior were starting to click.  

But Batman.. had just admitted to having ocd. That was difficult to wrap his head around. Getting any information outta that guy was incredibly challenging, though he guessed this attempt wasn’t exactly a cakewalk either but it was nothing compared to previous attempts where he’d gotten nothing for more effort.

“Really?” Barry looked confused as hell, “I’ve never seen you like.. clean your hands a bunch, or clean anything really.” 

And wow that should not have pissed him off as much as it did, but Oliver was tired of hearing shit like that whenever Bruce’s condition was brought up or pointed out. Which was a lot because people loved to pry. Of course Bruce wasn’t Batman but the sentiment still stayed. 

“It’s not obsessive cleaning disorder,” he knew Barry didn’t mean anything bad by it yet he glared anyway, “it’s about compulsions and intrusive thoughts.” 

“How do you know that?” Hal asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“I have a friend who has it,” he crossed his arms, “I’m tired of everyone thinking it’s about cleaning.” 

“Why does it bother you, you don’t even have it.” He didn’t know why Hal always had to be so confrontational about everything.

“I don’t need to have it to find it annoying as hell.” Oliver snapped back. 

“I mean, that’s kinda what I thought it was too.” Superman admitted sheepishly. 

Oliver couldn’t find it in himself to be mad at any of them for it, there wasn’t really a reason for them to know these things and the masses only knew Ocd as how it was often portrayed in the media. And now they did have a reason to know these things, because Batman. 

Speaking of Batman the dude looked like he’d rather be anywhere in the world other than the space station at that moment. He could imagine this wasn’t what Batman had hoped the meeting would be about. 

“No it’s like, you get intrusive thoughts and then compulsions to reassure yourself, but by seeking reassurance you just make the compulsions stronger. Does that make sense?” He tried his best to explain what he knew, but like he said he was no expert, just a witness.

“Yeah uhh- ya lost me there.” Barry chuckled.

Someone spoke up before Oliver could attempt continuing his explanation, and he was incredibly shocked to see it was Batman. 

“You know those backup plans I’m always making?” He asks, Barry nods, so does everyone else, “my brain tells me if I don’t make those, people will die, and it would be my fault. So I make them and no one is killed, which convinces my brain that my plans are why no one has died which leads me to make more and more. If I stop, people will die.” 

“Well what happens if you just don’t make the plans?” Barry tilts his head like a curious puppy. 

“I get a bunch of gruesome scenes and images of people dying until I make the plans to prevent it.” 

“…oh.” Barry frowned. 

Batman gave an annoyed huff, “Don’t give me your pity, it’s something I’ve always had and will continue to have.” 

“It’s also something that’s been affecting you negatively, and we never noticed, for that I’m truly sorry.” Diana finally spoke up, a sad shine in her eyes. 

“You were never meant to notice.” 

Batman crossed his arms, perhaps trying to come off as annoyed, but to Oliver he just looked like a sad kitten. Which was a wild thought to have about the Batman of all people. 

“Well I’m glad we did,” Diana continued, “we can help you Batman, there’s no way you’re happy with this constant vigilance and paranoia.” 

“It doesn’t matter if I’m happy, it keeps you safe.” Batman insisted. And wow, way to stab Oliver in the heart, say what you will about the Bats attitude but he really did care about them. 

He cared enough to live in constant paranoia and fear if it meant keeping his team safe. 

“Batman it’s.. incredibly sweet what you do to keep us safe-” Batman gave an annoyed grunt at Superman’s words, “-but you’re not solely responsible for the team's safety, and your mental health is important.”

 “I have it under control.” 

“You really don’t, dude. All of us noticed.” Hal said, as if he’d noticed himself and hadn’t been clued in by Superman. 

“Seriously dude, how do we help you with this? Is there a cure or something? Treatment?” Barry perked up, eager to help as always. Oliver could see why Batman liked him. 

“No”

“Yes” 

Oliver and Batman spoke at the same time, and Batman gave Oliver his best glare. Sadly for the Bats, Oliver was more interested in helping Batman than he was scared of the batglare. Diana immediately locked on to Oliver. 

“What is it?” She asked. 

“Nothing.”

“Exposure therapy.” 

They spoke at the same time again and Oliver was sure if looks could kill he’d be obliterated and his spirit ripped to shreds cuz damn Batman did not look pleased. 

“Exposure therapy.” Hal repeated, an amused note in his voice, “so what, we gotta stop Spooks from worrying all the time?” 

Oliver blinked. 

“Sorta?” 

“Cool, count me in.” Hal leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smirk on his face. 

Batman turned to him, jabbing a finger in his direction “you will do no such thing.” 

“We will actually, but only if you say we can.” Superman chimed back in. 

“What makes you think I ever would?” Batman spoke less harshly towards Superman. 

“Because I imagine you’re more tired of this than we are. In the end we’re not the ones who suffer when you stay up all night making plans, or refuse to eat or drink anything offered to you, or constantly change your schedule, or lock and relock your door 10 times.”

Batman winced and Superman’s eyes narrowed in on the motion, “yes, Hawkwoman told me and Wonder Woman about that. She was worried you’d been compromised.” 

“Wait, you did what?” Oliver asked. Bruce had similar issues with door and window locks, Oliver knew how frustrated and upset those compulsions made him. He could only imagine how bad it was for Batman. 

Batman just sighed and looked down at the table. Thinking. 

“Fine, Agent A has been trying to get me to do exposure therapy for years, I guess now's as good a time as any.” He admits. 

“Alright!” Barry exclaims in excitement, “So like, what is Exposure therapy exactly?” 

Batman rests his hands on the table and Oliver tunes out the rest of the conversation as he notices something. His eyes focus as Batman taps the table. Three with his pointer, one with his middle. Just like- 

Wait. 

No. 

WHAT-