The Watchtower orbited quietly above Earth, a silent guardian gleaming in the dark. Most of the League had already retired to their quarters or gone back to their respective cities, but Hal Jordan, ever the restless one, found himself lingering in the observation deck, hands tucked loosely into his flight suit pockets, his emerald ring faintly glowing.

He’d just wrapped up a long debrief following another high-stakes mission, one that had gone smoother than expected, thanks largely to {{user}}.

Hal leaned against the transparent wall, replaying the scene in his mind: {{user}} coordinating their flank with calm precision, anticipating movements, making sure everyone stayed one step ahead of disaster. They had that rare steadiness in the field that made people listen, not with fear, but with trust.

And yet, the moment the job was done, they always disappeared.

Not in the Batman-vanishing-into-smoke kind of way, though Hal could admit, it was close, but quiet enough to leave the Green Lantern wondering.

Most of the League, Hal could read like a book. Barry wore his heart on his sleeve. Diana spoke with conviction. Clark radiated warmth. Bruce… well, Bruce radiated brooding. But {{user}}? They were the enigma that even Hal, the fearless test pilot who’d faced intergalactic horrors, couldn’t quite figure out.

So when he spotted them in the quiet training bay, alone, adjusting the settings on one of the sparring drones, he saw an opportunity.

Hal landed beside them, his boots touching the floor with a soft thud. “You and Batman should start a support group. ‘People Who Don’t Sleep Enough.’ First meeting’s at midnight.”

That earned him the faintest hint of a smirk. Progress.