Chapter Text
Bruce Wayne was an idiot. A stupid, self-proclaimed, idiot.
World’s Greatest Detective his ass.
Sure he was decent at connecting basic pieces of information but that did not mean that he made good decisions.
Like a few months ago. When he joined the start-up hero team calling themselves the Justice League.
He’ll give himself some credit, ‘joined’ is kind of a stretch. He was still able to operate on his own schedule, didn’t go to most of the team-ups, or any of the social gatherings.
But he was on the roster nonetheless. Which meant that no matter how much he avoided them, he couldn’t stay away permanently. Because if Bruce Wayne was an idiot, then the Justice League shouldn’t be allowed to leave their homes. So out of the kindness of his well-concealed and guarded heart, he took it upon himself to bear responsibility for some of their short-comings.
He had started with their security, it was lax at best and negligent at worst. Bruce had been horrified during his first trip to the watchtower as he scouted at least six potential areas that someone could use to get in unmonitored within his first 30 seconds.
He found many more later.
So he fixed it. He allowed Brucie Wayne to become an official donor. Began sponsoring almost 90% of all League costs. Used his own money to add more locking mechanisms and identity check-points. Used his own skills to secure files behind his own specially built and uncrackable fire walls. He did everything in his power to make sure that the base, its inhabitants, and most importantly, its information, were safe and secure.
He thought he had gone over every possible and potential breach of security. Had let what some (Alfred) call his ‘paranoia’ take over as he began to create contingencies for when in the event that -because it was a when- one of the members of the team went rogue, the rest of them weren’t left scrambling to plan something last minute.
Those files he stored on his own computer in the cave. Bruce didn’t see a need to show them those unless it was absolutely necessary. If then.
So, he had planned for everything, or so he had thought. Because he was, as previously stated, an idiot.
He hadn’t planned on the other League members calling a meeting, sitting down around the table, and introducing themselves with their secret identities like they were in some backwards version of Hero’s Anonymous. Except it wasn’t so anonymous.
Bruce could hit himself for this oversight. Of course these security ignorant buffoons wouldn’t follow the most simple, most basic, rule that came with this job. And he hated himself for assuming they would.
Your identity was supposed to be a secret. Not only to protect yourself (and probably least importantly yourself) but others. Your family, your friends. Everyone who stood a chance at being ripped apart by your decision to go out there everyday and put yourself in the crossfire.
Not that Bruce had anyone to protect, besides Alfred. But it was still a fucking given.
So he was left speechless in shock, unable to stop the train wreck that was happening before his very eyes. Unable to find words to prevent them from breaking the one rule that he had confidently (stupidly) thought went without having to be said.
He remained in his horrified -and slowly shifting into angry- silence when they had gone around the whole table finally reaching him, and staring at him expectantly as if he was going to participate in their group idiocy.
“Batman?” Wonder Woman prompted, still smiling as she had at each member, though it was beginning to dim with each long moment that passed without a word from Bruce.
Everyone continued staring at him, now nervously instead of expectantly. He finally found words.
“I’m leaving,” he stood, ignoring their looks of disbelief and turned on his heel, cape swishing faintly behind him as he stalked for the exit.
“What? Come on you asshole!” Green Lantern shouted after him. Bruce heard as he turned to Flash, “You owe me 20 bucks. I knew Bats was too chicken-shit.”
“Enough,” that was Superman. “We knew it was a long shot. We all know how he is.”
Bruce grit his teeth and made his way to the hangar, climbed into the bat plane and began his flight back to Gotham, mulling furiously over what had just happened.
Those bastards had planned it. They had all planned to get together and try to force Bruce into a position where he felt pressured to blab his most closely guarded secret.
He was beyond angry. Struggling not to grip too tightly to the controls lest he break something.
It wasn’t like he hadn’t already known all of their identities. He was Batman for god’s sake. It was in his damn job description for him to know things. But he protected their identities with the same fervor that he did his own. The same wouldn’t be able to be said for them. He’d observed first hand their attitudes towards security. He’d sooner shoot his own foot than willingly let those imbeciles have access to his legal name.
He just wasn’t expecting them to literally sit in a circle and blurt out identities like consequences didn’t exist, and then turn to him expectantly, asking that he make the same foolish mistake.
Bruce didn’t do mistakes. That’s how people died. He learned that the hard way very early on in life.
But he had also learned other things. Like perseverance, like how to adapt.
Okay, he took a breath, he could adapt.
Those assholes would never be able to figure out who he was unless he told them. Which is probably why they tried to make him. He just had to ignore their attempts to connect with even more energy than he had before. Which would be easy. So fucking easy.
Except for Clark.
Bruce’s hands tightened on the steering. He pushed that stray thought way, way down and focused back on flying. He’d just avoid the League for as long as possible and go from there.
He groaned as he realized he had intended to run a diagnostics check on the Watchtower security system tomorrow evening.
He’d just have to be quick about it.