Biting Back

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Title: "Biting Back"

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The Watchtower's largest conference room was packed with heroes from every major team—Justice League, Young Justice, Titans, Outsiders—all gathered for an important briefing. Tim Drake, perched at the end of one of the long tables, tapped his fingers idly as Superman spoke at the front, going on about teamwork, training, and setting examples for others.

Everything seemed routine enough, until Superman’s lecture took a turn.

"Some of us," he said with a slight, almost condescending smirk, "still have a long way to go when it comes to matching the standard of, say, a fully-trained Kryptonian." His gaze settled on Conner, aka Superboy, with an unmistakable hint of criticism. "Raw power can only get you so far, after all. It’s about knowing when to hold back and showing some restraint."

A few polite chuckles came from some of the League members, but Tim's eyes narrowed. He saw Conner’s jaw clench, and his friend’s usual laid-back attitude faltered for just a moment. Tim knew Conner trained harder than almost anyone, always striving to live up to the impossible standard Superman set—not just as a hero, but as his genetic template.

Tim had had enough.

He straightened in his seat, voice loud enough to interrupt Superman’s speech. “Wow, Superman,” Tim began, a biting edge to his tone, “you know, you’d think someone with all that ‘Kryptonian wisdom’ would be able to come up with a critique that wasn’t so… basic. But here you are, taking cheap shots at someone who works twice as hard just to keep up with your inherited powers.”

The room fell silent, heads turning toward Tim in surprise. Superman’s brows furrowed, but Tim didn’t let up.

“Must be real easy, huh?” Tim continued, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Being the ‘paragon of virtue’ when you were born with the power to bench-press planets and fly through space. I’m sure it was a real tough childhood learning how to hold back.” He folded his arms, his blue eyes locking with Superman’s. “Meanwhile, Conner’s out here actually grinding, training for years to master powers that didn’t come naturally and learning to be a hero without the luxury of invulnerability. But yeah, tell us more about how hard it is to be you.”

Superman’s jaw tightened. “Tim, this isn’t about—”

“Oh, it’s not?” Tim interrupted, a defiant smirk on his face. “Because it sure sounds like you’re trying to make it about how you’re the ‘gold standard’ for heroes, instead of just admitting you’ve got no idea what it’s like to actually struggle for power. But hey, if you need to keep reminding everyone how perfect you are, maybe you’re not as secure as you let on.”

Conner’s eyes widened in shock and then quickly shifted to amusement as he watched Tim tear into Superman with unflinching ferocity. Across the room, Batman’s face was an unreadable mask, but there was a subtle flicker of approval in his gaze.

“You’re way out of line, Tim,” Superman said, his voice firm and deeper than usual. The disapproval was thick in his tone.

“Maybe,” Tim conceded, his voice growing calmer, more composed. “But at least I’m not out of touch.” He leaned back in his chair, never breaking eye contact. “If you ever decided to actually get to know Conner, you’d see he’s more than just your ‘backup.’ He’s his own person—a person who deserves better than being constantly compared to you.”

The silence was palpable. Superman’s expression softened, the criticism hitting home. He glanced at Conner, who was now staring at him with a mix of hope and defiance, then back at Tim. For a moment, it seemed like the Man of Steel might argue, might double down on his previous point, but instead, he took a deep breath.

“You make a fair point,” he finally said, his tone grudgingly acknowledging Tim's words. “Conner, I didn’t mean to undermine your efforts.” He glanced back at Tim, a hint of a rueful smile on his face. “And I suppose I could do with a little more… humility.”

Tim just shrugged. “Couldn’t hurt.”

The tension broke with a few stifled chuckles from the other heroes, while Nightwing shot Tim an approving look. Conner gave Tim a grateful nod, his shoulders relaxing as the atmosphere shifted.

Superman cleared his throat and continued the meeting with a renewed sense of composure, but everyone could feel it: Tim Drake had just scored a verbal knock-out, and the shadow of the Kryptonian's legend seemed just a little less intimidating than before.

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