The Superior Spiderman in Young Justice

"Computer, isolate the room," Batman commanded, his voice sharp and authoritative, leaving no room for argument.

The hum of the security systems locking into place filled the air, sealing the room in a cocoon of silence. Batman moved with purpose, his every step calculated as he lowered himself into a seat across from Spider-Man. His piercing gaze bore into the wall-crawler, cold and unreadable, the weight of his authority pressing like a shadow over the room.

"So," Batman began, his voice calm but edged with steel, "what truly brings you here, Spider-Man? Dissecting the young heroes with tactics and exposing their weaknesses—surely that's not the only reason you came."

He folded his hands on the table, his demeanor unflinching, silently demanding an answer. Across from him, Spider-Man's lenses narrowed slightly, the subtle shift in his mask betraying the spark of confidence beneath.

"Like I said," Spider-Man began, his tone casual yet layered with an edge of certainty, "with those young, inexperienced heroes playing at being a team, they need guidance. Real guidance." He leaned back slightly in his chair, the soft creak of the metal frame punctuating his words. "And like it or not, I'm offering my assistance. Call it leadership, mentorship—whatever works for you." He paused briefly, letting the weight of his words settle. "In other words, I'm here to join."

Batman's eyes narrowed, his expression hardening into something even more unreadable, if that were possible. "You presume much," he said, his voice low, cutting through the tension like a blade. "You evaluated them without permission, exposed their vulnerabilities, and now you expect me to simply allow you to take charge? Why? Why this team? Why now?"

Batman's gaze darkened, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous rumble. "From where I stand, it seems more likely you're here to exploit them—gather intel, expose their vulnerabilities, or worse... act as a spy for someone else."

The accusation hung in the air like a blade poised to strike, cutting through the room's heavy silence. Batman's presence loomed larger now, the weight of his suspicions pressing down on Spider-Man like an invisible force.

A flicker of understanding passed through Spider-Man's mask as he straightened, sensing the weight of Batman's suspicion. "I get it," he replied, his voice calm but firm. "You're not the world's greatest detective for nothing. You're cautious, always questioning, always thinking ahead. And here I am, someone you barely know, suddenly offering to step into a leadership role with your team. That would raise flags for anyone."

He leaned forward, his gaze never leaving Batman's. "But you also know what it's like, don't you? To make decisions on the fly, to take risks, especially when the stakes are this high. I'm not here to exploit anyone, and I'm not here to undermine you. I'm here because those kids—your team—need guidance. They need a hand from someone who's been through the fire. I know you don't trust me, but it's the same way I don't trust you. That's why I'm offering to work with you, not against you."

The room was thick with tension, each word a calculated move, and Batman's expression remained unreadable as he studied Spider-Man, the silent challenge between them palpable.

A beat of silence passed as Batman's gaze lingered on Spider-Man, his mind calculating, weighing every word, every gesture. He leaned back in his chair, his arms crossing over his chest as his voice remained steady, almost calculating in its calmness.

"You speak of guidance," Batman said, his eyes narrowing. "But guidance isn't given freely, Spider-Man. It must be earned. You can't simply stroll in and assume you're capable of leading a team of young, untested heroes. You'll have to prove you're more than just a wildcard with a sense of responsibility." His voice dropped an octave, becoming colder. "This isn't a game. Lives are at stake."

Spider-Man didn't flinch. His posture remained relaxed, but there was a steeliness in his eyes. "I'm not asking for a free pass," he replied, his voice resolute. "But I've seen what it's like when inexperienced heroes are thrown into the deep end. I've been there. The stakes? I get it. I've had more close calls than I care to count. But that's why I'm here—because I know what it takes to survive. Not just the battles, but the leadership that keeps everyone alive long enough to fight the next one."

He shifted slightly, his voice dropping into a more reflective tone, "These kids? They might have heart, but they don't have the experience. They haven't been pushed to the limits like we have. I've fought real threats, and I know what it's like to push yourself beyond your breaking point. But they need to learn how to do that. How to be a team, how to make the hard calls, to know when to fight and when to fall back. That's the kind of leadership they need. Not a captain. Not a dictator. A mentor."

Batman sat still for a moment, processing the words. The weight of the room seemed to shift, the air thick with the unsaid understanding between them. He could hear the sincerity in Spider-Man's voice, feel the underlying truth in his words. But even then, a kernel of doubt remained—his instincts weren't easily shaken.

"And why should I trust you?" Batman finally asked, his voice barely above a whisper, the challenge still hanging between them like a threat. "You've never been part of this team, Spider-Man. You don't know them. You don't know how they think, how they work together... or don't. Why should I believe you'll do anything other than make it worse?"

Spider-Man's posture shifted slightly, but his voice remained unwavering, laced with quiet confidence. "Because, Bruce," he said, the use of Batman's real name slipping out effortlessly, "I know more than you think I do."

Batman's eyes narrowed, the unexpected familiarity in Spider-Man's words catching him off guard. For a moment, his guard dropped, and a flicker of surprise flashed across his usually unreadable expression. He stared intently at Spider-Man, the weight of those words settling between them.

"What did you just call me?" Batman asked, his voice low and controlled, though a subtle edge of surprise lingered.

"Bruce Wayne," Spider-Man said again, his voice steady. "I know who you are—your identity, your history, your methods. It's not that hard to piece together when you've spent enough time studying your targets. You're not the first person to wear a mask for a cause, but you're one of the few who've taken it as far as you have."

Batman's eyes narrowed in a way that seemed almost impossible, a quiet but unmistakable shift in his demeanor. His posture became more rigid, more focused. The air in the room seemed to thicken as the tension escalated. He studied Spider-Man carefully, his mind working at a rapid pace, calculating every possible angle.

Before Batman could retort, Spider-Man took the lead, his voice steady and calculated.

"I've done my homework on Superboy," Spider-Man said, his tone cool and measured. "He's a clone of Superman, but he's not the full package. He's got the strength, the durability, but not the full range of powers."

Batman's eyes hardened, his voice sharp. "Where are you going with this?"

Spider-Man didn't flinch, his gaze unwavering. "He was bio-engineered by Cadmus to replace Superman if he ever went rogue. They built him with genetic modifications and, from what I've gathered, telepathic conditioning to ensure compliance." He leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping a bit lower, the words cutting through the air. "Have you ever considered that Superboy might be a sleeper agent, with mental commands buried deep inside him—waiting for the right trigger?"

Batman's expression remained neutral, but a flicker of concern flashed in his eyes. The room grew even tenser, as if the weight of Spider-Man's words were settling heavily on Batman's shoulders. His mind was racing, processing the new information, calculating the possible implications.

Spider-Man smirked, a look of quiet superiority in his eyes as he leaned back, sensing the impact of his words. "Judging by your expression, even with that stoic mask you wear, I'd say you never even thought to check his mind for those mental commands." He let the words linger in the air before adding, his tone dripping with calculated disdain, "Some world's greatest detective you are."

The challenge hung in the air, the tension palpable as Spider-Man's words cut deeper than any physical blow. Batman's gaze hardened, but Spider-Man had already planted a seed of doubt, one that Batman knew he couldn't simply ignore.

The silence in the room grew thicker, the tension now palpable, the weight of Spider-Man's words hanging like a heavy fog. Batman's jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing even further, though his mind raced, torn between his suspicion and the unsettling possibility that Spider-Man's claims might be more than just a challenge to his authority.

"But that's not all," Spider-Man added, his voice taking on a sharper, more dangerous edge. "I suggest you conduct a thorough investigation into every single member of the League—and their sidekicks. The truth might be closer than you think."

Spider-Man's gaze remained unwavering, watching Batman carefully, his words lingering in the air. The challenge was clear, but so was the undercurrent of something more ominous.

Batman's eyes flickered, a fleeting crack in his usually impenetrable resolve, as Spider-Man's suggestion began to gnaw at the edges of his certainty.

"I'll provide you with the necessary tools," Spider-Man said, his voice now cold, each word measured and deliberate. "Not just for the League, but for their protégés as well. I can help secure their identities, protect their minds—ensure you never find yourself in a position where your 'detective skills' fall short again."

Batman's jaw clenched at the words, the offer hanging heavy between them, like an unspoken challenge. A brief flicker of something darker crossed his expression, but he quickly masked it. The weight of Spider-Man's words lingered, forcing Batman to confront the vulnerability that had been exposed. It wasn't just a critique—it was a test of his pride, his methods, and his authority. And now, there was the uncomfortable realization that Spider-Man might be right.

With a deep, controlled sigh, Spider-Man leaned forward, his eyes narrowing as if reading Batman's internal struggle. "But I'm not just offering advice," he continued, his voice dropping lower, almost conspiratorial. "I've been thinking about how to improve the League, how to strengthen it—make sure it's prepared for things you can't predict." He paused, watching Batman closely, making sure he had his full attention.

"A few modifications to your security protocols wouldn't hurt," Spider-Man said, raising a finger as if sketching out a plan in the air. "I'm talking about mental safeguards—every hero and sidekick could use a stronger mental firewall, something to block out unwanted intrusions. And not just that. Your surveillance systems? They're decent, but not infallible. I can give you a tech upgrade—something faster, more discreet, and far less prone to hacking."

Batman's eyes narrowed, already running through the potential implications in his mind, the gears turning as Spider-Man's words sank in.

Spider-Man's smirk returned, clearly aware of the effect his words were having. "You need something more comprehensive," he continued, leaning in slightly, his voice smooth and calculated. "A system that works in the background, undetected. It won't just watch over them—it will protect them, anticipate threats, and even adapt to new ones. A dynamic defense mechanism. You can't predict everything, but you can certainly prepare for it."

He leaned back, giving Batman a moment to process the offer, his voice dropping to a more serious tone. "But that's just the beginning. The League isn't just a team of Earth's greatest. They're a collective of individuals from beyond this world. They carry knowledge, technologies, and abilities far beyond what Earth can offer. Imagine the potential if that expertise was directed at solving the world's greatest problems—diseases, cancer, genetic disorders, pollution, and so much more."

Spider-Man's expression shifted, becoming more earnest, as if he were pleading for something greater than a mere tactical advantage. "We're talking about life-changing, world-altering solutions—medicine that could extend lives, technologies that could reverse environmental damage, innovations that could end hunger and poverty. You've seen the impact they can have on a battlefront, but their influence could be even more profound on the world stage."

His voice grew more passionate, conviction creeping in. "The League isn't just about stopping the next villain, Batman. They're about saving the future. If you can help them focus their talents, harness that power for the greater good, you'll create a legacy that transcends anything you've ever done as a 'detective.' This isn't just about keeping the world safe from threats you can see—it's about preparing it for the threats you can't, for problems that are already eating away at society from the inside out."

Batman remained silent, the weight of Spider-Man's words sinking in, challenging his assumptions about the League, about what their purpose could truly be.

Spider-Man leaned in, his voice lowering, almost conspiratorial. "I'm offering you a partnership, Batman. A chance to guide them, to protect them from the shadows, and to finally do something that actually changes the world—for the better. You can't do this alone, and you can't just sit back and expect them to do it without direction. The world's changing, and if you want to be part of that change, you need to rethink how you approach the League and its true potential."

The silence between them deepened, leaving Batman with the uncomfortable realization that Spider-Man wasn't merely testing his methods—he was offering a glimpse at something far bigger than Gotham, bigger than anything Batman had ever considered.

A/N:

The entire Young Justice canon is about to shift, get ready for some major changes ahead, my Superior readers! Things are only going to get more intense from here.

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