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The rank darkness of the sewers clung to the walls as Batman made his way along the tunnels. A quick relay from Nightwing proved that his search above ground had proved fruitless. It was just like Killer Croc to slip back into the sewers when things got tough.
“Received, Nightwing,” Batman called softly over his comms. “Rendezvous on my location.”
Batman turned the corner, hiding along the shadows of the wall as he neared Croc’s usual nest. The muffled noise coming from down the sewerline affirmed Batman’s suspicious of where Killer Croc had run of to.
He sped up, no longer needing as much stealth now that he knew he had the beast cornered.
That was his first mistake.
His boot tugged at a small silver wire that crossed his path. Batman backed off as soon as he knew he’d tripped the wire, though no alarm went off to give away his position. His eyes narrowed as they swept his surroundings, attempting to look for what the tripwire was attached to.
Batman became aware of just how screwed he was when he saw the soft haze trickle over his shoulders. And that is where he made his second, and worst, mistake. He gasped.
Coughing the smoke from his lungs, he stumbled forward and swirled around. His vision blurred and a thick, low laugh echoed around the chamber.
“And to think that he actually fell for it. I guess I lost that bet.”
Batman growled as he spun around, searching for Croc’s body among the shadows, something solid that he could attack. He stumbled as he saw the huge body slip from the shadows against the far wall, tail sweeping against the concrete.
Batman hit the wall as he backed up, fingers going to the comm in his cowl as the corners of his vision rimmed red.
“Nightwing… I’ve been…” His voice trailed off. Killer Croc’s form had disappeared. The sewer he was standing in shifted around him, the walls straightening and forming windows, the distant light of the theatre twinkled down the stretch of road that formed under his feet. His head twisted around, heart thudding in his chest as his eyes landed on the prone bodies of his parents, exactly the way they had been on the day that they had died, laying where Croc had been only moments ago.
His throat closed up around a scream, strangling it before it could slip past his lips. The part of him that was still rational screamed at him that he was hallucinating, that this wasn’t real and he needed to snap out of it or he would end up dead, but the pain and heartache that pulled at him clouded that part of him and suddenly everything was darkness.
His legs gave out under him, hands and knees slapping the warm, wet ground. Fingers shaking, he lifted them from the ground, staring at his palms and tasting the bile in the back of his throat as the thick, red blood glistened on his palms.
Breathing shallowly, he pushed himself to his feet, pressing his back against the alley wall and letting his eye drift back to his parent’s bodies.
His heart stopped in his chest as his eyes landed on the pile of bodies. His parents were gone and in their place, the still, bleeding bodies of his proteges. Everyone he’d ever trained, the people he’d lost and the ones he clung to to prevent himself from ever losing them too.
Their voices rang in his head, blamed him, hated him. He pressed his hands to his ears and slid down the wall, squeezing his eyes shut as the voices got louder, screaming. He was unsure of how long he sat there, trembling and feeling his heart trying to break from his rib cage.
“Batman!”
He looked up, eyes snapping to the man that stood only a few feet from him, his pant legs soaked with blood and a smile on his face that could terrify even the strongest of foes--a crowbar clutched in his hand.
A sound ripped from his throat, a blood curtling scream; terrified, heartbroken. Angry. He scrambled to his feet and threw himself at the man as he tried to take a step closer, hand outstretched. Batman felt a small sense of satisfaction from the look of surprise on the Joker’s face.
He took a swipe at the clown, trying to get his hands around his throat. The Joker stepped back with each grab, easily evading Batman’s hands. In normal circumstances, Batman would have realized how wrong this was, that the Joker had never been able to dodge him this well, but at the moment he wasn’t exactly thinking straight.
“Bruce!”
The name slipped from Joker’s mouth, startling Batman hard enough that he stumbled. The Joker grabbed him by the cape and tossed him sideways against the tunnel wall just as something dark and huge barreled right through where Batman had just been standing. He watched as the Joker and the dark mound went tumbling around the corner.
Batman leaned against the wall, head throbbing from where it had connected with the brick. He blinked, trying to get the world to stop spinning. The alley way shifted in between the bloody scene of his nightmares and a dank sewerline. Where was he again?
A hand grabbed his shoulder and he spun, thrashing out with a shout. The chest that his fist connected with was solid and he gasped as he felt his knuckles crack. Pain throbbed from his hand but he ignored it, eyes blown wide as they looked up at his best friend.
Superman’s face was white like death, blood spilling from his mouth, nose and eyes. He gripped Batman’s wrists when the dark knight shoved at him, keeping him from getting away.
Batman let out a tortured scream and fought, tugged at his arms and kicked at Superman’s legs and chest in an attempt to get away. The bodies of his loved ones lay around him and the bleeding form of the man he’d given his heart to loomed over him, trying to still his violent movements.
Strength Superman rarely used against him pulled Batman from his position on his back. His hands were released only so that strong arms could wrap around his back, holding him tightly to Superman’s chest. He felt the hot blood drip onto his shoulder, panic settling into him.
He screamed again and thrashed, clawing at Superman’s back. He tore the fabric, the pointed tips of his gloves leaving the back of the suit in shreds. Superman didn’t flinch. He pressed his lips to Batman’s cowl, above his ear, and started to speak.
The softness of his voice cut through Batman’s psyche, leaving him shuddering and gasping for air. His fingers trembled and clutched at Clark’s back, fisting the remains of his suit. He let out a choked sob, honing in on the soothing voice whispered in his ear. His eyes squeezed shut once more, as if the action could also shut out the screaming that still echoed around him.
***
The console was flashing red. Superman watched J’onn speaking into the microphone, asking Batman if he was okay. Superman’s chest felt tight, heart pounding, as he stared at Batman’s vitals up on the screen. Superman couldn’t exactly figure out what was wrong with him. The vitals showed that he was having… a panic attack?
Superman had never thought Bruce capable of a panic attack. Alarm bells sounded in his head. Something was very wrong here.
“Nightwing to watchtower!”
Clark slammed on the button as soon as it flashed, notifying them of an incoming call.
“Come in Nightwing. What is going on?” He could hear the panic in his own voice, unable to control it as he stared at Bruce’s vitals rising.
“There’s a situation. I don’t know how, but I think Batman’s been exposed to fear toxin.”
Clark frowned. Fear Toxin? He’d seen something about it in the news once but he’d never gotten Bruce to talk about it.
“I’ve pinpointed your location. I’ll be there as soon as possible. Superman out.”
He hit the button again, flying from the room only to touch down on the nearest Zeta Tube, feeling the familiar pressure pulling him from one place to another. He stepped out of the small phone booth in one of Gotham’s alleys, instantly following the beep of the locator that was leading him to Nightwing’s location.
Flying down into the sewer, he landed on the damp ground, sticking to the shadows as best he could as he swerved through the tunnels. He could hear his own heart pounding in his chest.
He stopped when he heard Nightwing’s voice, shouting for Batman. He backtracked down the tunnel, heading down a smaller tunnel that seemed to lead to the center of the sewer. He strained his ears, picking up every sound in an attempt to pin down a location.
He rounded the corner just in time to see Batman take a lunge at Nightwing, the surprised acrobat backing away, escrima stick clutched in his hand. Clark saw movement out of the corner of his eye. His eyes went wide, knowing he wouldn’t be fast enough to stop the 400 pound man from barreling through the both of them.
“Nightwing!” he shouted, seeing the recognition in Nightwing’s face as he saw what was about to happen. Nightwing shouted Bruce’s real name and shove him out of the way as Killer Croc ran at the pair of them. Bruce went down hard, the panic inside of Clark spiking.
He ran to the Dark Knight’s side, concern torn between the trembling man at his feet and his young protege who had disappeared into the dark water.
He placed a hand on Bruce’s shoulder. His reaction was instantaneous and startling. Clark sucked in a deep breath when Bruce lashed out at him, cracking his knuckles against Clark’s chest. He grabbed hold of Bruce’s wrists so he couldn’t hurt himself any more, feeling him kick and flail in an attempt to get away. He spoke Bruce’s name softly over and over, trying desperately to get across to him.
He tugged Bruce onto his bent legs, kneeling on the sewer floor and clutching Bruce close to his chest. He pressed his lips to the cowl above where he knew Bruce’s ear was, speaking softly as he felt his suit tearing at his back.
“Bruce,” he whispered, voice thick with emotion. “My love… Come back to me. I’m right here.” He felt Bruce’s body calming against him, his trembling lessening slightly and the trashing stopping. His breathing evened out as he started to calm down himself. He closed his eyes and buried his face in Batman’s neck, feeling the cool leather press against his cheek.
“Do you remember the first time you told me you loved me? It probably would have seemed like the simplest thing in the world to anyone else, but hearing those words from your mouth for the first time… my whole life seemed to finally have meaning. You called me about a mission, everything was business… but before you hung up you said my name and told me you loved me.”
Clark laughed softly, holding Bruce a little tighter. “I was at your side before you’d even put your phone back into your pocket. I remember the look on your face. Cute and red and angry and breathtakingly beautiful. You were so mad that I had seen how embarrassed you were. But when I asked you to say it again, you did. You kept saying it over and over and I felt like I was going to die. Do you even understand what you do to me?”
He kept talking, speaking softly about their love as Bruce gradually got more and more calm. His heart rate slowed to a normal pace, his breathing evened out. Clark looked up as Nightwing neared. He was bleeding and his suit was torn but he seemed to be fine overall. Clark’s voice trailed off when Nightwing knelt down behind Bruce and gently pressed something to his neck. There was a soft hiss and Bruce went limp in Clark’s arms.
Clark watched Nightwing closely, scanning him for any sign of aggression. He saw the smile form on his face and calmed slightly, fingers gripping the batsuit tightly as he held Bruce close.
“It’s a small sedative. It should be enough for us to get him to the cave. There’s an antidote there.” Dick huffed loudly and ran a hand through his hair. “We should really start carrying it around with us.”
Clark stood slowly, lifting Bruce in his arms and cradling him close.
“He’s going to be alright, isn’t he?” he asked, voice tight.
Nightwing nodded and pressed a finger to his ear, calling the watchtower to notify them that Batman was fine and the mission was a success. He dropped his hand and sighed.
“Scarecrow’s fear toxin… it makes people experience their worst fears, makes everything terrifying… and if you don’t die by falling off a building or getting hit by a car, generally you have a heart attack. That’s why it’s best to sedate toxin victims, so they don’t die.”
Clark’s arms tightened ever so slightly on Bruce, feeling increasingly thankful for Dick being there.
Nightwing smiled knowingly, tilting his head to indicate Clark should follow him. “Come on, Supes. He’s gonna be fine.”
Clark looked down at Bruce, following after Nightwing’s retreating form. What was Batman possibly afraid of?
***
“You’re being awfully quiet.”
Clark watched Bruce as he leaned against the balcony, staring out over the garden surrounding the hotel. The lights from the party reflecting off his black suit.
When Bruce said nothing, Clark moved toward him, placing a hand on the small of his back. It was only when Bruce flinched away at the contact that Clark knew something was wrong.
“It’s been three days, Bruce,” he spoke softly. “Don’t you think it’s a good idea to talk about it?”
Bruce closed his eyes and leaned back into the touch, almost apologetically. He stayed there for a moment, in complete silence. Clark allowed him the quiet moment to think.
“No,” he spoke softly, opening his eyes and pulling away. “There’s nothing to talk about. The mission took an unexpected turn, nothing else.”
Clark sighed loudly and rubbed his forehead. He was honestly getting tired of the evasion act. He knew Bruce was a private person, he’d always known that, but this was a little much. Even Tim had noticed he was being moodier than usual.
Clark stepped up behind Bruce and let his hand slide down the other’s side, leaning in to press a soft kiss to the opposite shoulder.
“You know I’m here for you. I always will be. If you want to talk about it, you can with me.”
Bruce slipped from his arms, walking back into the party with a fleeting look over his shoulder, a soft smile that held so much meaning for only Clark to know.
“Maybe some day.”
Clark stared at the doorway, standing in the cold October air that he barely felt. He lost track of how long he stood there, but it wasn’t until he heard a soft chuckle from behind him that he tore his eyes away from the party and turned around.
He smiled at Dick who was leaning against the railing, arms crossed.
“I’d give it another three days before you wear him down enough for him to open up.”
Clark frowned and walked toward the acrobat. “You sure? Bruce has never been good about opening up.”
Dick shrugged and straightened up. “He loves you. He doesn’t actually like bottling everything up. He just has trust issues. It took a year before he ever told me what he’d seen from the toxin. And it was only after I’d gotten exposed to it… But I’m not you. I’ve never seen him so open with anyone else.”
Dick placed a hand on Clark’s shoulder and smiled comfortingly. Clark frowned and looked down.
“What does he see, Dick? I don’t want to wait until he tells me. I want to know so I can help him.” He knew it wasn’t his place to go behind Bruce’s back, but he doubted it would only take three days for him to loosen up.
Dick sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Clark, it’s not that simple… I could tell you what he’s seen before, but every time is different. I can only tell you what I think it was.”
Clark stepped forward expectantly and Dick screwed up his face.
“It was most likely… His parents. Jason. The rest of us dead. You…” He shook his head and looked down. “That’s what he fears most, Clark. And you know that he would do anything to prevent it from happening. He loves people with his entire soul, and it’s the biggest threat to his mission. It’s weakness. And he will do anything to prevent anyone from finding that out. Even if it means never telling the people he loves.”
Clark had looked back through the doors somewhere in the middle of Dick’s speech, finding Bruce smiling among the crowd. He listened to the words as he took in every inch of the Brucie facade. He loved every part of that man; every fake smile and flirtatious movement. He loved Bruce, the silent, brooding man who rarely smiled but when he did it was like staring into the sun. He loved Batman, selfless and caring and willing to do anything to make sure that no one got hurt and the bad guy ended up behind bars.
“He’s the strongest person I’ve ever met.”
The words hung in the air for a moment and it was only then that Clark realized it was him who’d spoken. He looked back and Dick to find him smiling knowingly.
“Maybe you should tell him that.”
And with that he was gone, disappearing once more into the shadows of the balcony in a way that only years of training as Robin allowed him to do. Clark smiled and turned back to the party, stepping through the doors and into the crowd. He headed toward Bruce, stepping up behind him and letting his hand caress the small of his back in a way that he usually wasn’t allowed in public.
He leaned in and pressed his lips to Bruce’s ear, effectively silencing the conversation he’d interrupted. “You’re beautiful.”
His words were quiet, only for Bruce to hear. He watched with growing amusement as Bruce’s face took on a rather pretty shade of red. The three women he’d been flirting with were in varying degrees of shock and amusement.
Bruce rounded on him, looking equal parts embarrassed and pissed. He grabbed hold of Clark’s tie and tugged, pulling him in the direction of the elevator. They stepped through the doors and Bruce hit the button for the top floor--his floor.
A smirk played on Clark’s face as Bruce shoved him up against the wall, his lethe body pressing fully against Clark’s solid form.
Clark’s hands slid down Bruce’s sides and gripped his waist as the elevator doors slid closed with a ding.