Chapter Text
Batman couldn't wait to leave the Watchtower. The alien slime was too overwhelming to leave on for the javelin ride to the manor. Though he hated showering anywhere other then home he needed it. He shut himself in one of the vacant bedrooms, it was all he could do to get some privacy.
The aliens that had been in need of assistance lived on a planet that had more slime then water. As the mission was ending, the League saying their goodbyes to the alien leaders, Bruce had been drenched in the stuff. John had apologized numerous times, he'd been moving the stuff back to it's slime pit when his ring ran out of power. Bruce wasn't angry at John, he just couldn't speak after it happened. He stepped into the transport and found the nearest shower.
Despite being on the verge of a meltdown he still hesitated to remove his suit. He kept a clear boundary between his hero and civilian identities. Though the league knew he was Bruce Wayne he never removed his cowl on the Watchtower. Weather out of professionalism or his own personal reservations it felt wrong to be seen as Bruce around the league.
He couldn't avoid it today though. The slime had worked it's way inside the seams of his suit, inside his gloves, leaked into his boots, and a large drip was sliding down his back. Bruce shed his suit, leaving it on the bathroom floor to be cleaned later. Just having the burdensome prison of slime off felt like a major relief.
Bruce turned on the shower, waiting for the water to heat up, and readying for the new sensation of water, he swayed on his feet. He shook his hands out and popped his lips. Building his courage and gritting his teeth he stepped under the stream of hot water. A shudder went through his whole body, he balled his hands into fists and forced himself to stay in the shower.
Once he'd adjusted to the water Bruce scrubbed the disgusting alien slime off. It dried and caked itself to his skin, but the heavy duty decontamination soap in the Watchtower shower did the job. Finally free of the stuff Bruce stood still in the hot water. He breathed in the steam and relaxed his muscles, he'd need to calm himself before patrol in Gotham.
After an hour decompressing and meditating in the shower Bruce reluctantly turned the water to cold. The cold was good for his circulation, mental health, and getting adjusted to the cold air outside of the shower. He rinsed thoroughly in the cold water before shutting it off and getting out. He shivered and wrapped himself hastily in a towel.
Bruce was thankful the Watchtower rooms were stocked with anything they could need. He put on clean clothes, grey sweats, sneakers, and a tee shirt. Drying his hair with a towel he sat on the edge of the bed. It was firm and warmed by heaters, it would be so nice to collapse on to it for a few hours. Bruce sighed, he couldn't skip patrol. He'd had enough break from his routine.
In the bathroom Bruce found plastic bags, he carefully wrapped his slime covered suit in them. He had a spare in the cave, which was lucky since even Alfred was going to have a tough time cleaning this. Bruce gingerly picked up the squishy package and walked out of his room. He squinted in the brightly lit halls of the Watchtower before turning to see someone waiting for him.
Bruce said nothing, he still didn't feel like talking. He stepped in front of John, raising his eyebrows expectantly.
“Hey, I just wanted to apologize about before. It really wasn't intentional.”
Bruce's face was neutral, he moved to step around John. “I'm aware. You already apologized. I need to go.”
“Are we okay, though?” John asked, stepping in front of Bruce to stop him from leaving.
“We're fine.” Bruce huffed.
John rolled his eyes. “Yeah, cause we sound fine.”
Bruce narrowed his eyes at John's sarcasm. “I said we're fine. I understand it was an accident.”
When John still didn't move Bruce looked up at him. He had been avoiding eye contact, to tired to make an effort, when he saw John's frustration hiding concern he realized there was something else. “Why are you pressing this?”
“Jeez, man you could accept someone's apology so we could move on.”
“I said-” Bruce started to repeat himself.
“We're “fine” yeah.” John rolled his eyes again.
Bruce's natural frown deepened. He thought he'd said enough, he didn't have more he wanted to share about the issue. It was hard to explain, other's didn't usually understand his issues. He just wanted to forget it and go home.
“I'm not angry with you, John.” Bruce stated firmly.
“Good to know.” John still didn't move.
“Can I go now?”
“Are you okay?”
Bruce considered leaving. He could probably get around John, he didn't have his ring as it was recharging. If John wanted to force the issue Bruce could drop him to the floor with two strikes and run away to his javelin. But the reason why John was even bothering to press the issue alluded Bruce, and he liked to know what was up with his team.
“Why are you asking me?”
John raised his eyebrows. “You're my teammate.”
“Yes, I'm also not your girlfriend.” Bruce sighed at John's shock at his wording. “I mean you know I can take care of myself, as I you. We're not especially close the two of us, so unlike Shayera, you don't usually bother me.”
“Bother you?” John glared at Bruce.
“I have to go.” Bruce squeezed his bag of slime covered batsuit in his hands.
John crossed his arms stubbornly. “Superman's keeping an ear out for Gotham. We need to talk.”
Bruce opened his mouth to argue. He needed to leave.
John spoke first. “I know you like keeping your schedule, but just give me ten minutes.” It wasn't a question. Bruce usually respected John for being straightforward and direct. Right now he still felt like dropkicking the guy and running away. But John had a reason, probably an important one, though Bruce couldn't figure out what. Bruce huffed, he'd had a bit of time to breathe in the shower, he could put up with being on the tower for ten minutes. It had better be worth it.
“Let's go then.”
Bruce followed John into one of the lounges they had around the Watchtower. The light's were the same bright florescents as everywhere in the tower. The chairs and couch were bolted to the floor, each with stiff hard cushions from being rarely used. On the tower they seldom had time to sit around.
John sat across from Bruce in one of the armchairs. He gripped the armrests, his eyes searching Bruce's. Bruce didn't bother with eye contact, he was being inconvenienced, he didn't want to expend more energy then necessary. He chewed the inside of his cheek and watched John's hands move as he spoke.
“So, I wanted you to know that I care.” Bruce raised his eyebrows. He didn't even realize he'd made a face until he heard John's snort. “Yeah, that's why I don't talk about this stuff.”
Bruce breathed through his nose in a light scoff. He could understand that at least, he didn't like talking to the league about emotions either.
John plowed on. “Diana said -”
“Of course.” Bruce thought. Diana was behind this conversation. She probably wanted him and John to become best friends, cry on each other's shoulders about their shitty childhoods. Play nice and make up. Bruce restrained an eye roll, focusing on listening to John’s words.
“-that since we're a team we need to listen to each other.” Bruce saw John steeple and unsteeple his fingers, clearly unsure what to do with his hands. “She said, and the rest of the League agreed, that I don't listen to people's feelings.”
Bruce didn't say anything. He sort of agreed, but he knew he was just as guilty so he wasn't going to bring it up. Turns out he didn't have to.
“You do it too.” John said. “We both know there isn't room on missions for unnecessary pleasantries or small talk.”
Bruce nodded.
“When we have time though, like now-”
“I have things to do actually.”
John glared. “Like now, we can spare a few minutes to talk,” Bruce glared back but didn't interrupt again. “-it’s important to check in.”
“Okay, I understand what you're saying.” Bruce nodded. “Can I go now?”
John checked the clock in the keypad on the wall. “We still have five minutes. So..”
Bruce waited for John to ask him if they were “okay” again. He felt this whole conversation was pointless. Neither of them was enjoying it, he should just leave. John cleared his throat.
“Do you feel like you're a part of this team?”
“I'm here, aren't I?” When John was unsatisfied with his non answer Bruce thought about it.
He'd been going on missions with the League for a year. Sure, at first he had made it clear he didn't want to be a part of it. Various reservations and distrust of the members making him keep his distance. But he'd saved the world with all of them countless times now. He trusted them with his secret identity and his life. He could trust them with other stuff too then, right?
“I am a member of this team, for better or worse. Through apocalypse, to alien invasion, I'm here.” Then, because it occurred to him another question John was likely to ask, he added. “I trust all of you.”
“Good to know. I feel the same way. I trust the Bat with my life.” John sighed, Bruce glanced up at his face, the man looked relieved.
“So, I would hope you can trust me to understand.”
“What's there to understand?” Bruce fidgeted with his slime bag.
John clenched and unclenched his hands, he worked his jaw trying to figure out what to say. “I know that you have issues with certain things.”
“Everyone has issues.”
“Yeah, we do. I'm not saying any of us is perfect, even Batman.” John opened his hands. “Clark is reckless, Wally's mouth moves faster then his brain, Shayera has the temperament of a feral cat half the time, and a rampaging bull the other half.” John laughed fondly talking about his girlfriend. Bruce understood it was affectionate, even if he would never dare say it to her face.
“Diana gets emotional, makes it to personal, J’onn’s to closed off or he's to nosy in everyone's minds. Honestly he's still grieving and is going to be for a long time.” They sat in silence for a moment, remembering the lone Martian on their team.
John took a breath to continue. “I can admit I'm hot headed at times.” Bruce raised an eyebrow at John's admission. “Okay, a lot of the time, I'm quick to jump into the fray and ask questions later. It’s instinct, man.”
“I know.”
“What I mean is, it's not just you. But you do have issues too.”
Bruce neither confirmed nor denied this. He wasn't interested in discussing his issues. They were his, he didn't share.
“You stop talking to us, sometimes for hours.” John's tone wasn't accusatory, and Bruce tried to trust that. Bruce felt exposed, not just because he was without his cowl.
He did have verbal shutdowns on missions sometimes. The stress, or the new environment, or being ripped from his routine by the mission threw him off at times. He hated that he couldn't control it, but he coped. The team didn't know everything, but they knew he wasn't going to talk so they worked around it.
“I let J’onn know anything important, and I still sign.”
John nodded, he raised his hands and signed. “I know.”
“I'm relieved we've made it work, I'm relieved you told us enough to do that.” John took a breath, bracing himself for his next question. “I'd like to know why, if you're willing to tell me.”
Bruce clenched his jaw before schooling his expression. He took a minute to breathe even as his thoughts were getting too loud. Bruce didn't want to tell John, or the League, why. He didn't want to explain to them, it was to hard to go through it all. It felt too futile, because they'd never really be able to get it.
Is that the reason?
Bruce didn't want them to see him differently, but maybe he also wanted to pretend. Pretend he was perfectly independent and self assured. Admitting his flaws, or his differences, meant admitting he had weaknesses. He spent all his time cataloguing the weaknesses of others and burying his own beneath layers of kevlar and black.
He didn't want anything to change. He couldn't change the fact his brain functioned differently then their’s. He wasn't prepared to change their perspectives of him. He wasn't ready to show himself to anyone.
“I'm not.” Bruce held up his hand to pause John's response. “It's hard to talk about, it's hard to explain, it's hard to understand.”
Bruce looked up at John, he was waiting for Bruce to speak. He really looked like he was ready to listen. Bruce continued.
“I just.. process things differently then you. Sometimes that makes it hard for me to talk, or think, or act.”
John nodded. “Signing is easier?”
“When it's too much, yeah.” Bruce looked at his hands. “Signing allows me to communicate without dealing with my mouth or breathing. It's like it flows around the jammed gears in my head.”
Bruce waited while John thought that over. He looked at the clock again, time was up. He'd given John ten minutes, he needed to get back to the Manor.
Bruce stood, picking up his clothes bag. “I need to go.”
John followed. “Thanks for telling me that.”
Bruce furrowed his brows. He hummed in response, he felt there was something else he was expected to say though. “If you need to talk..”
John waved him off. “No, I'm good, you need to go.”
“Yes, I do.” Bruce walked to the door but paused. “I don't mean to be “stiff” or rude. I need my routine, much as I can help it, to stay intact.”
John raised his eyebrows. “I'll remember that.” He smiled. “If I forget you can just dropkick me or something and leave.”
Bruce smiled back. He gave John a nod and left.