Monolith

Chapter 1: Dick

There was a low kind of hum in the air in anticipation of the day's meeting. Most of them had arrived a little early, even Barry, which was hilarious. For all his speed, it took a miracle for him to be on time for anything.

But that was today. A miracle.

Batman was not going to be at this afternoon's meeting due to an injury. Anything that could keep him away from a meeting was cause for immediate concern, and a heavy feeling of foreboding permeated the air until it was overridden by something else - because Batman was sending a representative. Batman, who worked alone. Batman, who enforced his "no metas in Gotham" rule with an iron fist and a glare that could strip paint from a tanker.

Batman had someone he trusted enough to speak for him. He trusted the Justice League, to an extent, that was true, but not like this. The excitement was palpable. Even the unflappable J'onn looked intrigued.

Barry bounced in his seat, a red blur, then rushed from the room. Apparently, all the waiting had created a need for the toilet. Diana and Clark watched him go, faintly amused. Shayera just snorted.

Seconds later, the Zeta tube announced the arrival of someone new. All heads turned towards the door, and the animated chatter hushed.

The figure melted out of the shadows in much the same way as Batman, striding towards the table smoothly and soundlessly. Naturally, Barry chose that moment to come barrelling back into the room, almost crashing into their visitor, who flipped out of his way with inhuman grace. It was impressive, though expected. Batman associated himself only with people worth his time.

'Did I miss them?' Barry said, just slow enough for the rest of them seated around the table to discern the words.

The figure, coming further into the light, laughed brightly. 'Just about. It was a close one.' The league could see him now - and it was a him - he was shorter than Batman and less muscled, dressed head to toe in black kevlar, a bird emblazoned on his chest in midnight blue. In holsters at his waist were two metal escrima sticks, and a black domino mask covered his eyes, the blank white lenses eerily reminiscent of Batman. He cut an intimidating silhouette.

The league found themselves at a loss. Batman's representative had just laughed. Barry, standing before him, frozen, looked as if he didn't know whether to be horrified or delighted.

'I'm Nighthawk, by the way,' he continued, grinning. 'B sent a message earlier - about me being his stand-in for the meeting? He said you'd replied.'

If Nighthawk registered the surprise on some of their faces at the casual use of a nickname, he didn't show it.

Diana nodded and smiled, taking the initiative. 'How is he? We were all worried to hear he was hurt. It is unlike him.'

'He should be fine in a few weeks. There was a mass breakout from Arkham, and he tried to round them all up without backup, the idiot.' Nighthawk sounded fond and exasperated at the same time. Hal barked a laugh from the other side of the table. It was the first time any of them had heard Batman called an idiot. Clark looked like he didn't know whether to reprimand him or join in.

Nighthawk's grin grew wider as he carried on, 'His arm is broken in two places, he has four stab wounds and he was bleeding internally. He's currently stable and conscious, but he asked me to cover for him for your next few meetings.' He made his way over to Batman's chair. 'He is so going to regret this. This is the most fun I've had in ages - he thinks I'm going to ruin his "stoic image".' He accompanied his last sentence with honest-to-god air quotations. Hal looked like he was going to pass out. Shayera leaned forward, intent.

'This is B's chair, isn't it? I'm not stealing anyone else's? Is Aquaman in Atlantis? What about Green Arrow?' Nighthawk asked, turning to Clark.

Clark cleared his throat. 'That is Batman's chair, yes. Aquaman's is over there. He's not here today. Green Arrow is on business in Star City.'