I stand up and cross my arms over my chest, Batman stares at me…I stare back…we both just stand that staring at one another in complete and total silence…until
finally, after what feels like an eternity, he breaks first and speaks.
"I need a baseline." Batman says, making me frown, "A…baseline…for what?" I ask while sighing and running a hand through my hair.
"You have been awake for twenty seven hours, thirty seven minutes and forty-three seconds…yet you display no signs of fatigue, dehydration or hunger…" Bruce finally says and he motions tu the treadmill I shrug and get on it, and it hums to life as Batman presses something on the control panel…the belt starts slow at first, and steadies at a pace of a brisk jog.
Batman says nothing…while looking between me and his control panel, I start to realize something as I continue to jog…I'm not tired…but I should be…
'My feet aren't begging for mercy my legs aren't sore…my breathing isn't going ragged…I'm not even sweating…what the fuck?!'
Self-consciously I start to slow down a little bit, with the intention to step off of the treadmill, but Batman stop my by asking me if I'm winded or feeling tired…as soon as I shake my head no…he tells me to keep going and increases the speed of the treadmill.
"No, don't make it go faster, I don't even want to do this…" I groan and
exhale sharply.
"Look, just because for some weird reason I don't have asthma anymore and I'm not getting tired…doesn't mean I wanna keep being your lab rat running…on your little wheel…Especially when I don't know what's happened to my body to allow me to do so!" I complain about Bruce looks me in the eye and says in the blandest of tones.
"Your healing factor is preventing you from feeling or becoming fatigued… "It is likely that your regenerative ability eliminates lactic acid buildup in your muscles before it can cause exhaustion."
I squint…at that implication…
"So you're saying my healing stops me from getting tired?"
"Yes."
"Does that also mean I'll be unable to build up muscle mass, because my body's healing ability is at a point where micro tears in the muscle fibers would repair too quickly or not even form at all?" I ask curiously.
"No…even If you train under these conditions, I'm currently having you run in now you will see a rapid growth in strength development, at a much faster rate than normal humans."
'Wow…' I think as I process that information. "That feels incredibly unfair." I mutter with a smile on my face and I notice Bruce smirking at me.
"Are you tired?" Bruce asks me suddenly.
And I can't help the wise ass comment that slips out, "Of you…yeah definitely!" Though there's no real heat to my words, something about being around Bruce is definitely soothing…though it shouldn't be.
Instead of verbally sparring with me like I know Bruce is capable of, he presses a button on the control panel making my treadmill come to a stop and start sinking into the floor.
The walls and floors shift again, panels sliding open, sections of floor lifting up to reveal rows of weapons. Blades. Staffs, bows, Grappling hooks, Smoke pellets and all manner of fun murder-adjacent gadgets Batman implores in his crime fighting.
"Choose anything in this room." he tells me I glance around, and start rubbing my right thumb against my chin like l'm actually considering a weapon…
"Uhh, where are the guns? As an American I choose a 12 gauge shotgun and a .45acp pistol…preferably a colt 1911." I say and bob my head up and down in a self assured manner, and watch as Bruce freezes.
Bruce's voice becomes flat…while flatter…and cold… "No guns."
I raise an eyebrow…and pretend not to know about his trauma.
"What?"
"No guns ever!" He says seriously.
I stare at him and blink…knowing I'd found a chip in his armor that I can exploit and make him throw me away.
"Are you serious?!" I ask and gesture at the armory. "You literally have bat-shaped throwing knives that explode…"
"That is different." Bruce says and sounds a bit like a petulant child.
Making me scoff. "Oh, is it…is it really? Because as far as I see it there is an impact, a chemical reaction, an explosion, and hot flying metal…flying through the air, impacting and possibly killing an opponent."
Batman says nothing so obviously, I keep pushing, "You know what stops a morally bad guy with a gun? A morally good guy with a gun…that's just basic logic, look Bruce I didn't make the rule…The Founding Fathers did and they said every citizen in this godforsaken nation has a right to bear arms...look I'm not gonna disparage your personal decision not to employ firearms…but use grenades…so don't do so to me for wanting to use guns!" Batman stares down at his boots saying nothing.
"And another thing-"I start to say but Bruce looks up at me and cuts me off.
"You're not carrying a gun."
"Wha, come on Bruce why not?" I ask petulantly.
Batman crosses the room, rests his hands on my shoulders and looks me directly in my eyes, his voice is low, measured…and full of pain.
"Because when you pick up a gun, you stop thinking." He says and I'm about to say something but find myself pausing.
'Bruce isn't talking about me…he's talking about himself…' Feeling slightly uncomfortable, I try to make a joke.
"Yeah, that sounds like something a guy with ninja training would say." Batman doesn't find my joke amusing or if he does he doesn't show it, he just gestures to the weapon racks again.
"Pick something else…anything else…please…"
'The Batman/Bruce Wayne said please…and he sounds so defeated…okay…I can be a dick head…but this guy…is too genuine…to keep pushing…' I internally express while releasing a dramatic sigh.
"Fiiinnneee, I was pretty good with a bow, and I always liked playing pretend with lightsabers and shit...so I guess, I look to one of the racks and grab a straight, bladed sword that kinda looks like the sword Artemis Crock uses as Tigress." And grab it from a rack, and the amount of relief that shows through Bruce's body language makes me feel a little guilty.
"Thank you...Shane." Bruce says in a soft tone and so quietly I almost didn't hear him, the sword slips from my hand.
"H-how...do you know that name, I ONLY TOLD HARLEY?!" I ask as white hot rage floods me.
And I lunge at Batman, he round house kick me into the wall of the training room I hear and feel my bones break, and heal I get up and charge him again.
Over and over again he lays me out and critique's my stance and punch throwing, I lose track of time but Bruce is drenched in sweat and pinning me to the floor with an arm bar.
"Harley, told me everything after Ivy brought her here...Poison Ivy convinced her that for your safety it would be best for her to break up with you...for your safety... I've never seen Harley in so much pain... before the other night... nothing the Joker has ever done to her hurt her as much as what she thought she was doing to keep you safe."
"You can hate me, but don't hate her, don't hate life, and don't hate yourself..."
"I don't hate you Bruce...how can I you're one of my favorite superheroes...and you're not a cold hearted ass hat like so many people try to make you out to be...I don't hate Harley I love her... I'm, I'm just lost and confused...and hurting...on the inside... I've never felt for anyone what I feel for her...never told anyone... everything that happened to me, before her and never had someone pour their own heart out to me in such a way as her either...and then she just decides to leave me...out of nowhere...even though it was crushing her...I want him dead Bruce...so that he can never hurt her again! I've never wanted anyone dead, I've never wanted to hurt anyone before...it goes against my very nature to hate someone...like this..."
"I know... we're the same I could see it when you rushed to save Harley...let me help you...train you..." Bruce let's me out of the arm bar and sits down and I pull myself up and sit across from him.
I reach out and rest my hand on his shoulder close my eyes and reach for the warmth I felt with Harley...it comes even faster than it did when healing her and flows through my body to my hand and into Bruce.
Bruce grunts, his muscles tensing them releasing as a...sigh...let's go with sigh leaves him.
Opening my eyes Bruce looks refreshed...like he's caught up on a decade of missing sleep and has been eating the way he should be.
"Interesting..." Bruce says as he stands up and starts doing some katas.
"What is?"
"You healed me... completely...old injuries that have been affecting me efficiency and effectiveness as well...even my thoughts seem clearer...this requires testing and experimentation...how do you feel any... consequences, from using your abilities on me?"
"I don't think so..." I say as I go to stand up but end up on my ass, feeling all sorts of discombobulated.
"Hmm... you're too weak...to effectively use your abilities...even with your regeneration factor..."
"Excuse me?" I glare at the man who just looked at me his eyes saying you know I'm right, which I'm sure he is...he is Batman after all...
My stomach rumbles both violently and loudly.
"Maybe the dizziness is because I haven't ate or slept in so long..." I think aloud and Bruce makes a sound of agreement.