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As an inaugural member of the Justice League, Wally West knew the importance of the biweekly threat briefings.
That didn’t mean he enjoyed them. ( Seriously, it could just be an email.)
Sure, sure, he knew logically that it was essential to track every meteor that might pass too close to Earth, or monitor every government that could become unstable, or chart the tremors in the pacific that potentially would turn into a massive earthquake. At any given moment, the waves of these crises could come crashing down—and if they ever did he’d be ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice.
But that didn’t mean the meetings weren’t boring as all hell. The board room on the Watchtower had tech that any other company would dream of, but the fact still remained the room was all grey and smelled like the processed, dry air that came out of the vents on airplanes. Seriously, would it kill to put up a painting or two? Wally would even settle on an accent wall. Whatever plans Bats had drawn up clearly put practicality above all else, but what was the point in maximizing utility if they all went insane with boredom?
Wally laced his fingers behind his head and leaned back. From the sounds of it, they were winding up. It couldn’t come fast enough.
Diana (who was leading the meeting this week) cleared her throat. “Lastly, there’s a popular blog that’s come to my attention.” She clicked forward on the slide and the map of Yemen faded into an article on a sleek-looking webpage.
The Case Against Billionaires, read the headline, by Clark J. Kent . In a box next to the text was a small photo of a man with dark hair, glasses, and a sharp jawline.
Across the table, Superman coughed. His face looked oddly pained—his eyes were too wide—even though he was clearly trying to maintain his composure. “While I appreciate you bringing this to our attention, Diana, are we sure this is the best use of this time?”
Thank god he said it. Wally agreed with Supes, but he’d never say it out loud. Not against Wonder Woman, Princess Diana of the Amazon.
Diana, ever the diplomat, simply nodded in Superman’s direction. “I understand matters like this may seem trivial, but Kent specifically names Bruce Wayne in his editorial. And as you know, Mr. Wayne is a major supporter of the League. We wouldn’t be here, quite literally, without his generosity.”
At this, Batman hummed in disagreement. “Superman is right. This is just a blog post.”
Wally snapped his head in Bats’s direction. Usually Bats considered everything a threat—he once even brought it to the League’s attention that the rainfall had been higher than usual in the Pacific Northwest.
“A popular blog post,” Diana amended. “It’s had nearly two million views.”
Diana scrolled down and read, “ It is a failure of our modern system that billionaires exist while there are members of society who work full time and cannot afford to pay their bills. ”
“I don’t really see how this is relevant to the Justice League…” Superman interjected. Under the bright white lights, his face seemed a tinge more red than normal. He looked ready to crawl out of his suit—did a blog post really make him that uncomfortable? In Wally’s opinion, something wasn’t adding up.
Diana scrolled down further in the article. “ Society cannot rely on the whims of billionaires to fund necessary social security. For every Bill Gates or Bruce Wayne who may give generously, there’s the Jeff Bezo’s and Mark Zuckerberg’s of the world who hoard their wealth—the wealth they made off the backs of the working class. The only way forward is to tax the wealthy and direct their money back into social programs—into education and health care and infrastructure,” she read Kent’s article in an even and impartial tone.
“Now, I understand it may seem like I’m blowing this out of proportion,” she continued, “but it’s our job to consider all threats. With Kent’s blog gaining popularity, we should continue to monitor the situation, lest our funding come under scrutiny. If this continues, we can place him on the official watch list.
“If that’s all—”
“Hold on.” Superman crossed his arms. A line had worked it’s way into the crease of his forehead and his jaw clenched. “If we should ‘consider all potential threats’, then we should talk about Bruce Wayne, too. Taking so much funding from one source is a massive risk to the league. What if it comes forward he embezzled funds? Or defrauded investors? The entire reputation of the League would be damaged.”
“I vetted Wayne,” Batman growled. It was always hard to read his face under the cowl, but Wally couldn’t miss the way his mouth was set in a hard line. “Thoroughly. He came by every cent honestly.”
“Did he though? I mean—the Wayne fortune comes from a history of robber barons.” Superman threw his arms to his sides. “We need to consider diversifying our funding. Even with scandal aside, he could just pull funding one day if he decides he doesn’t feel like we’re worth it anymore. We should answer to the people first.”
“We do serve the people.” Batman’s body was too still. It was if every muscle was locked in place.
“But do the people know that? Right now, we don’t exactly look neutral. And besides…” Superman paused for a moment and swallowed. “When we mess up—and we will someday—I’m the first one they’ll turn into a scapegoat. I’m literally an illegal alien.” His nostrils flared.
Wally hadn’t known Superman for long, but he could count on one hand the number of times he looked like this and still have fingers to spare. Superman’s quiet rage burned through the room. At times like this, it was apparent how dangerous he really was.
“Ah, come on,” Wally broke the silence and slapped the table. “Big blue. You’ve been spotted at too many baseball games for that to happen.”
The tension eased from Superman’s face and Wally silently thanked god for that relief. “But that’s the whole point, Flash. I have to be the all-American favourite for them to accept me. Public opinion would turn on a dime if I was heard speaking Kryptonian.”
Wally frowned. Supes did have a point. The league was as much political as it was practical.
“All I’m saying,” Superman continued, “is that we shouldn’t think about the threats we face so narrowly. I mean we’re supposed to be the Justice League, for christ’s sake. And, sure, we can pull someone out of a burning building but what’s the point in that if they can’t pay their medical bills for smoke inhalation? Why are we focusing on locking people away if the system only digs them further into a hole instead of really rehabilitating them?”
Around the table, the rest of the league stayed quiet, not wanting to interrupt Superman.
“Thank you for your insight, Superman,” Diana finally said. “I think we’ll end here today.”
Superman was out of the room before Diana even finished her sentence.
“I’ll talk to him,” Batman spat out. And, with a dramatic swoop of his cape, he was gone too.
Four months later, Wally had mostly forgotten the incident. Until, of course, he was in the checkout line at Trader Joe’s staring at the front page of a tabloid.
Bruce Wayne’s New Squeeze! read the blurb, Meet the blogger who captured the Gothamite’s heart.
Underneath was a photo of Bruce Wayne, looking casual in jeans and a baseball cap at a mall. His fingers were laced around the hand of a familiar-looking guy with dark curly hair, an oversized plaid, and a wide grin.
Wally stilled when he recognized where he’d seen those glasses before. Maybe Diana hadn’t been overreacting when she included that article after all.
Wally dropped the magazine on top of the eggs and bread (and, alright, chocolate-chunk ice-cream) in his basket. None of them could say he wasn’t doing his part to actively monitor threats.
At the threat meeting two days later, Victor wound down the meeting with a report about a drought in Argentina. “Alright,” he said, “I think that’s everything.”
“Actually,” Wally said, “I, um, have an update on a threat from a couple of months back.”
“By all means, go ahead,” Superman said and gestured at him.
“It’s about Clark Kent, that blogger? Well, I saw a source yesterday that suggested he’s dating Bruce Wayne.”
“What was your source? US Weekly? ” Batman’s voice was dark and bitter.
“Is it important? I mean, politics aside, Kent’s in a position where he could easily gain access to some top-secret information.”
“You think Kent’s dating Wayne to get information?” Batman folded his arms over his black-clad chest.
“We need to consider it a possibility.” Wally nodded.
“There’s another possibility,” Superman said from the head of the table. His mouth turned up slightly at the corner. “Historically, fancy cars and expensive clothes have been enough to change many minds.”
Wally pulled his face into a sour look at the thought. “You think Kent abandoned his morals for a sugar daddy?”
“You never know.”
Across the table, Batman cleared his throat. “I’m sure Kent has more morals than that,” he said. There was something wrong with his tone, but Wally couldn’t place it.
“Still,” Diana said. “Flash is correct. We need to monitor this more closely.”
“I can… talk to Kent,” Batman said, his voice low and rough.
Wally’s stomach twisted. “I mean… maybe that’s not the best choice? Wouldn’t that just confirm everything Kent thinks?”
“He’s right,” Superman said. He tapped on his chin. “Maybe I’ll contact Wayne instead. Warn him about the dangers of getting into bed with a socialist.”
“I don’t know if we need a red scare either,” Wally grumbled. Kent did have some good points about social justice—he didn’t deserve to have the entire Justice League coming after him. Besides, didn’t Superman agree with Kent anyway? “Maybe we could just… keep monitoring the situation?”
“Superman’s right,” Batman said. “He should have a conversation with Wayne. The playboy’s so dull that he probably doesn’t realize what he’s gotten himself into.”
“Well, that’s settled then,” Superman said with a grin. He nodded in Wally’s direction. “Thank you for bringing this to our attention.”
Wally felt his face redden under his mask. Why did he feel like he was missing out on some inside joke?
Wally had several bad habits, one of which was a tendency to spend a little too long on social media. He blamed it on his short attention span—he liked the constant stimulus. So sue him. He could have much worse habits.
When he woke up in the morning, still half-asleep in a warm nest of blankets, he fumbled for his phone and flicked open twitter. As usual, he scrolled with the usual stream of memes with little thought.
Then, a big headline swam into his view—something from the Daily Planet.
Just in: Bruce Wayne Officially Endorses Bernie Sanders for President.
Underneath the headline was a photo of Wayne, hand in hand with Kent, on a platform waving to a crowd at a rally.
Huh. Wally set his phone down on his spare pillow and stared at his fan turning circles against the ceiling. Every day, he understood less and less.