DC: DON'T UTTER A WORD

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[J'onn J'onzz POV]

I stepped out of David's psyche. The sheer strength of his own psychic powers forcibly yanking me out of his mindscape, like white cells attacking a virus.

I gasped, collapsing to the ground next to Batman, panting.

Never before I had seen such a strong psychic shield.

It was astonishing.

His psyche was creating an almost indestructible mental shield from his subconscious desire to protect his mind above all else, to avoid being used as a weapon.

This power was new.

Very new.

It had felt that way when I had forcibly entered his mind. Meaning that his shield, that his power... was currently at its weakest point.

The catalyst for this change had probably been the virus.

A virus that had infected him beyond mental comprehension, giving his body a clear reason to attack, and above all, to adapt.

The only reason the virus had managed to affect his mind was that the shield had not been allowed to fully deploy, as it had been struggling between two equally important tasks. Healing what the Joker had done to him and keeping his mind intact.

Now, however... I had given the shield a chance to fully grow by aiding it, in the recovery of Black Bolt's mind.

That's all I had really done… Guide his subconscious mind back to the path it should have taken in the first place to neutralize the perceived underlying threat.

After today, I had no doubts that his mind would become a fortress beyond anyone's reach.

It was both admirable and concerning.

"He's calm..." Batman stated as he saw Black Bolt drop to the ground, his eyes having lost their insane edge.

"He is..." I nodded between breaths.

"We need to get him to the cave. I need to test his blood, to make a viable antidote," Batman nodded, before adding with a relief sigh. "Thank you..."

I smiled, it was not often seeing Batman show his more human side.

"Are you okay?" Batman asked as he walked over to Black Bolt to pick him up over his shoulder.

"I'll be fine," I answered. My mind still recovering from the strain I had to endure to get into Black Bolt's mind. "Where's Robin?" I asked, remembering Batman's sidekick had yet to be found, concern growing within me. If Black Bolt had struggled against the virus, what hopes were left for Batman's son?

"The Macaroni already retrieved Robin," Batman replied without missing a beat.

Good, so Alfred had taken Robin, and Batman wasn't worried, meaning the kid was alright.

"I was afraid that like Black Bolt, he had been infected," I added, letting out a breath of relief.

"He was," Batman replied, his tone having a new edge to it. "Black Bolt managed to stop the infection from growing. Saving Robin's mind, and life…"

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[Dinah Lance POV]

I rushed to Gotham City with Oliver by my side on his private jet at full speed, my mind filled with worry, pain, and anger. For the first time in my life, I wanted to kill someone, for the first time in my life I wanted to see someone suffer.

With all my heart, I wanted to tear the Joker apart, I wanted to take everything from him, to watch him suffer unendingly, with no escape until I was tired.

I was frightened by these thoughts.

Because I knew very well…  That if my baby brother didn't wake up or was not the same when he opened his eyes, there would be no earthly force that could stop me in my quest to kill the Joker.

Above all that. However, I felt guilt, overwhelming guilt.

I should have been there, I should have protected him, I should have helped him, but instead, I had been in Australia fighting some monsters, instead of helping my baby brother against the real demons of this earth.

"He's going to be okay," Oliver said, trying to soothe my worries. However, while he was trying to do so, his voice faltered ever so lightly, showing he didn't believe his own words, he was simply trying to calm me.

"He will," I nodded, nails digging into my legs. He had to be if the universe wanted the Joker to remain breathing.

"Batman confirmed he would make a full recovery," Oliver added, a faint smile on his face.

"I know," I tried to answer with a calm tone, however, my voice came out as a croak, tears filling my eyes.

"That kid is stronger than us," Oliver stated, without a doubt in his mind. "No second-rate clown will be the end of him."

I smiled between tears. He was right, my baby brother was strong, too strong for his age, and I didn't mean it physically… At times, I really wished he was a simple kid, without powers, without burdens… I would've spoiled him rotten; I would've given him a happy life…

What kind of sister am I? That I can't even protect my little brother?

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[Deathstroke POV]

Black Bolt had proven himself worthy once again.

Defeating the Joker, Scarecrow, and Harley, while under the influence of a deadly virus, keeping his morals to the very end by stopping himself from killing them.

It was remarkable.

Admirable even.

After all, while I prided myself on having a strong mind, and an unbreakable will. I had no doubts I would've succumbed to the insanity of the virus before Black Bolt himself.

Granted, I would've never been in that situation in the first place. Training, and experience, had honed my senses and skills to the absolute limit, making the pathetic strategies of The Joker useless against me.

Be that as it may, credit where it's due.

For had I been in the same situation Black Bolt had been, the result would've been quite depressing for me.

I also owed the Bat and the Martian a little thank you. They had saved him before I had had the need to interfere. So, I truly owed those two a small sense of gratitude, without them, healing Black Bolt would've cost me quite a few favors in some high places, favors that in the meantime, were best saved for later.

Needless to say, had they not arrived when they did, I would've saved my future apprentice without hesitation. In the end, they simply saved me the trouble.

"Now, what to do with the Joker," I muttered, walking into the shadows. His ridiculous games and irrational machinations would now undoubtedly include David in them. I knew that pathetic clown enough to know how easy it was to get his attention, and David had his attention, as he had been the closest thing to prove his reality was not one without meaning. "What to do with that little clown…"

While I wanted David, my future apprentice, to experience everything this world had to offer before taking him under my wing, I didn't want him to become like that waste of oxygen.

Broken weapons had no use for me, and that's what that pathetic excuse of a clown wanted, to break my weapon down to his level.

Well… Regrettably for him… I couldn't allow that.