Days as a Spiritual Mentor in American Comics

The sharp-eyed Tim immediately noticed that this wasn't the Bruce they were familiar with, and quickly tugged at Dick beside him, signaling him not to approach the commotion.

Harley let out a disappointed sigh, saying, "The guest you mentioned is Batman?"

After getting a clearer look at Batman's face, everyone dispersed in disappointment, their dismay evident.

Batman didn't seem to feel awkward. He looked towards Shiller with an expression that roughly translated to "Who gave you the courage to gather so many teenagers together?"

Shiller ignored him, walked over to the dining table, set down the bag in his hand, and shouted towards the living room, "Stop playing around, come and eat!"

Then, like penguins, they pushed and shoved their way in. Shiller slapped Ted, who had leaned in to peek into the bag, over towards the sink.

While they were lining up to wash their hands, Shiller noticed that someone was missing from the group. He poked his head out from the kitchen door and saw Jason lying on the couch.

"Jason twisted his ankle," said Dick while taking out soap from the cabinet above, "An ice pack helped reduce the swelling. Do you want to check on him?"

Shiller walked over, gently moved Jason's ankle, and was greeted by a series of screams. Batman too walked behind the couch to look at this familiar young man.

"It's nothing serious, no bones broken," Shiller said, "You do have a bit of talent to twist it like this, though."

Still half-asleep, Jason grumbled a few discontented words, covered his eyes with his arm, and murmured, "I'm not eating; I'm going back to sleep..."

Shiller shook his head, but didn't wake him. Instead, he went into the kitchen and said, "Leave some soup and salad for him. Remember to warm up the food before you eat, I need to head back to New York."

With a fork in her mouth, Pamela asked, "What's up? Something happened?"

"No, nothing like that. A friend of my student came over to play but then suddenly got roped into an urgent project, so he left him in my care. I need to go pick him up."

Before leaving, Shiller also cautioned Batman, "I might not be back tonight. If there's a hurricane tonight, you must keep an eye on them, don't let them run outside."

Batman silently nodded.

As Shiller left, looking back every three steps, he truly doubted whether Batman could keep an eye on the kids. It proved that his doubts were quite reasonable. Is Batman the kind of person to look after kids?

Not long after Shiller left, Jason woke up. Batman, apparently quite concerned about him, immediately focused his attention on Jason.

"Ah, Bruce... what time is it? Where's Alfred?" After murmuring these, like he was talking in his sleep, he suddenly realized he wasn't at Wayne Manor, sat up with force, and said, "Good heavens, how did you get here?"

Then, he quickly remembered, this was not the Bruce he knew and showed some embarrassment, saying, "Sorry, I'm still half asleep. Which universe's Batman are you?"

Batman didn't know how to describe himself, so he just stayed silent. After waiting three seconds and hearing nothing, Jason extended his hand and said, "Okay, I get it, traditional Batman."

"Tim! Come help me up! I'm hungry!"

Tim came over, reached out from behind the back of the chair, and pulled on Jason's arm to get him up, then said, "How come you seem heavier? Pamela... Pamela!! Come help me, I can't move him alone!"

Pamela dropped her game controller and came over, supporting Jason with her vines as he limped towards the kitchen. Tim followed him and said, "Jeez, none of the Jasons in the other universes are as burly as you, can't you reflect on that..."

"Blame me for being tall?" Jason said wobbling into his seat, "Why is it only salad and vegetable soup? Isn't there any meat? I'd take a spicy pizza too."

"If you want your ankle to swell up like a kettlebell, then by all means, load up on protein," Harley, who was tidying up the kitchen waste, said, "There's two packs of hot sauce left over there. If you're really desperate, eat those."

Jason looked at his ankle, decided that regaining mobility was more crucial, and started to silently toss his salad.

Ted was inspecting the Blue Beetle while checking the ice cream maker, and after a while, concluded, "This thing should roll itself off to the Pyramid and stay with the pharaohs — the rust inside nearly outweighs the parts."

Jason sighed beside him, "If I hadn't twisted my ankle, it might even have been fixed by now."

He turned to look at Dick, who shrugged and said, "Don't look at me. You can't expect an art student to fix machinery."

Then he turned to Tim. Tim said, "Taking this thing apart is too much of a hassle... but I have an idea."

And with a whoosh, they all huddled together. Tim looked through the kitchen corridor towards the living room, where Batman sat all alone, looking more worn out than the old farmhouse.

"He's your traditional kind of Batman," Harley spoke first, "And I think he's not in good spirits. What do you guys think?"

"Do we even need to ask? The doctor left him here; he's obviously here for some healing. I think we can help him out."

"Healing Batman, are you courting death?"

"But at least we could get him to use his mechanical knowledge to help us fix the hand-cranked ice cream maker. Don't you want some ice cream?"

Tim turned his head to look at the crumbling ice cream machine and then said, "Isn't this going to be a bit difficult for him?"

"What nonsense are you talking about? That's Batman!"

"I mean, is it hard for him to understand that humans like eating ice cream? Even Bruce doesn't let us have it!"

"That's exactly because he's not Bruce that he won't care about us eating sweets. Hurry, hurry, think of something. Otherwise, what will we do when he leaves?"

"Why not just ask him?"

"Then he'll definitely not agree," Harley said. "He might suspect it's a big bomb or something. Isn't that how Batman always is?"

Tim suddenly seemed to remember something and looked at Harley, saying, "He doesn't seem all that curious about you. Hasn't he encountered his world's Harley Quinn?"

"He's not that curious about any of us, which is not normal." Jason lowered his voice and said, "Batman should be very concerned about a strange cosmos, right? Surely he'd try to draw information out of us. But he doesn't seem active at all."

"The Doctor brought him here because he's sick. I feel like he's depressed," Harley said, stroking her chin. "I wonder if he's taking any medication."

"Definitely not. Not everyone is Bruce," Dick said after thinking for a while. "How should one treat depression? Try to cheer him up more?"

"I think we should find something for him to do," Pamela suddenly said. "This guy looks like he's suffered some psychic trauma. If we let him sit there dwelling on memories, he'll never get better."

"I guess the Doctor thought the same, which is why he dumped him on us. The farm rehabilitation really needs hands," said someone.

Harley's eyes whirled, and she said: "I have an idea. Let's do this..."

The group murmured in a huddle, then dispersed to rooms upstairs, briefing those who weren't present. After reaching a consensus, they all looked at Batman with a bit of schadenfreude.

The plan began at midnight.

The offshore hurricane sweeping across California State made landfall in the wee hours, with an overwhelming and unmatched momentum. The meteorological bureau issued over thirty warnings, advising California residents to hide in basements to avoid being blown away along with their houses.

The leaden storm clouds pressed down layer upon layer. Amid the howling wind, more and more debris was lifted into the skies, giving the storm a tangible form. The roots of trees clung desperately to the soil, their branches dancing wildly, bursting forth with astonishing vitality.

Batman was awakened by a scream. Or more accurately, he hadn't really been asleep; insomnia had been troubling him for a while. The day was about to dawn, and he was only half-dozing.

"The house! The house!!" He heard someone shouting.

Batman's instincts kicked in immediately. He rushed out the door and saw the southeastern corner of the house, where the kitchen was, had already been lifted up. Harley was knocked down by the gushing wind inside, with everything in the house flying around chaotically.

Batman dashed downstairs and looked out the window. The wind was indescribably fierce, and the small cabin seemed to be the hurricane's direct target, nearly getting uprooted.

"Stay down, don't move!" Batman shouted. But Harley, like she'd gone foolish, struggled to get up, only to be blown down again. As her head was about to hit the edge of the dining table, Batman threw a grappling hook and wrapped it around her waist, pulling her back.

The others, as if just hearing the commotion, rushed down from upstairs, momentarily stunned by the state of the house.

"Quick! Go get the wooden planks!"

"No, that wall has already separated from the foundation; we need to pull it down first. Otherwise, the whole house will be blown away!"

Pamela waved her hand, and a thick vine erupted from the earth, coiling around the roof beam from bottom to top. With a "bang," the house was pulled down.

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. But Pamela said, "My magic power is limited. Quick, find some nails and nail the house down!"

The group scrambled around the house like headless flies in search of materials. Batman couldn't stand it any longer and said firmly, "Everyone, come back!"

"Dick, you find the nails, Harley, you get the wooden planks. Also, find some rope and glue. I'm going to the backyard to get the toolbox..."

When Batman's figure disappeared at the back door, Harley sneakily gave the others a thumbs up.

To venture into the exposed backyard amidst the raging wind is extremely difficult for ordinary people, but not so much for Batman. However, his clothes were soaked through when he returned.

As he organized the toolbox, picking out potentially useful items, Dick came over and handed him a clean set of pajamas, saying, "Jason's clothes. He's a bit bulkier than you, but you should fit them."

Batman just glanced up briefly, then silently lowered his head, continuing his work.

Dick didn't say anything further and left the clothes before departing. But soon, a new problem arose. The storm that had nearly lifted the house broke the water pipe under the kitchen. Rainwater and tap water were flowing into the house through the cracks.

"Oh my God, where's this water coming from?!" Ted jumped on the spot. He said, "The water pipe is leaking. Think of a way to block it!"

He was the loudest, but aside from a tap-dancing routine on the spot, he did nothing else. Dick said, "We need to find waterproof tape. We might even need to lift the floorboards over there. I'll go get a shovel, you guys wait a minute..."

Soon Dick brought the tools, but after digging for a while, they couldn't find the leak. Batman had no choice but to put down his work and start inspecting the direction of the kitchen water pipes.