Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in the Justice League. All rights go to the big Muckity muks over on DC, Warner Bros., and Cartoon Network. My knowledge on all things magical and mystic should also no be trusted.
This is all for fun.
It was a dark, stormy night in Gotham, only we wouldn’t know that because that’s not where our story begins, exactly. In fact, it begins in a dark, sterile room, but let’s get on with the story.
He woke up.
He woke up panting, bewildered, and, though he’d never dare to admit it, rather scared. But “big boys didn’t cry”, so he was left to staring blankly into the darkness. He felt odd, and the darkness seemed to be spinning, which wasn’t really possible, and, and…
He was seeing stars. Literally. Eyes widening slightly, he glanced about the now discernable surroundings. If the smell of disinfectant weren’t enough to convince him, the little machines going ‘beep-beep-beep’ and the bed he was lying in would confirm any doubts that this was indeed the infirmary of the Justice League Watchtower.
He got off the bed, wobbling a bit. Strange, everything looked a bit funny, like everything was bigger, or… was that… in the corner? ‘Can’t think,’ images and questions buzzed in his mind, boggling his already confused self. His throat felt like sandpaper, and he needed to pee. ‘Who installs a door knob so high up? What’s the big idea? It’s just a bathroom…’
After wasting a minute finding the light switch (which was, again, placed unreasonably high up the wall, ‘Must speak to Jonn about this’, he noted), he turned towards the water closet, glancing at the mirror above the sink. He stopped suddenly, started once, twice, and finally just stared. It wasn’t just the fact that it was much higher up than usual (though now he knew that it wasn’t that he’d somehow landed in a ward intended for the larger species of the known galaxy by accident), or the fact that he was in this horribly box shaped hospital gown. No, it was that, that…
It would be five minutes later that the butler of one Bruce Wayne would find a young boy kneeling on the tiles of a Watchtower bathroom, frozen by his reflection in the Mirror.
A high pitched squeak forced its way out of the boy’s throat.