#barry: Batman is he telling the truth!? Wait where are you going? Batman help me!

[headcanonthings]

Interviewer: So there's a viral video of you drunk begging a certain speedster JL member to date you. Is it true? Hal: No. Interviewer, fake laughing: So the person in the video isn't you, Green Lantern? Hal: Of course it's me! And I was begging Flash to date me because I've been in love with the nerd for years, and I was tired of waiting for him to realize it. But I wasn't drunk. Interviewer: ...

[ragingbookdragon]

My Brother's Best Friend Is The One For Me

Wally West x Batsis!Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 3.6K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: Got to rereading my Batsis fics and came across the "What A Flashy Romance" and wanted to do another one with Wally because I love him. Enjoy! -Thorne

Being the middle child and also the only girl in the Batfamily meant two things:

1. She had four brothers that treated her like a porcelain doll, despite the fact that she could throw a punch at 336 PSI.

And

2. She followed an unspoken rule that Dick and Jason’s friends were off limits when it came to dating.

In all, neither of those things were major problems. She’d learned at a young age how to avoid Dick and Jason’s overbearing-protective-brother-modes, and Tim and Damian were younger, so she didn’t have to worry about them. The second one was also avoidable—most of her older brothers’ friends were the same, and she wasn’t around most of them to develop any feelings.

Well, there was Wally, but it was just a crush. A stupid, little school-girl crush—that she’d never really grown out of—that didn’t matter in the slightest. Except whenever Dick brought him over to the house and she had to pretend that sitting next to him didn’t make her heart race like she’d run a mile.

And the most annoying thing about the whole crush is that she couldn’t tell if Wally was ever interested in her or not. Most of Dick’s friends, Garth, Kyle, Roy, they treated her like a little sister—hell, they even said “Love you lil sis!” to her regularly. And yet, Wally didn’t. Now, there was the occasional head pat, but even that was an affectionate gesture that siblings and SO’s did all the time. It was infuriating, and so was Wally—but she was going to sort it all out the next time he came over because the worst thing he could say was “No”, and either she needed to hear that…or “Yes”.

***

Normal Sundays for the Wayne household usually meant Ultimate Waffle Breakfast and sitting on your ass all day until patrol—it was the one day of the week where they could do anything and nothing and didn’t have to stick to schedules. Everyone loved Sundays, especially (Y/N), because it meant that all of her family was home, even Jason (who tried to deny that he enjoyed coming home to hang out, but if that mile long grin was any help, he was lying). And while everyone was home, that usually meant that everybody’s friends were coming over too.

***

She swiped the syrup out of Jason’s hand when he swung it back around, grinning at him when he glared at her.

“I was gonna use that, (Y/N),” he griped, and she shrugged, uncapping the bottle.

She tipped it over and watched the syrup lazily pour out of the container onto her waffles.

“You were taking too long.” Her eyes twinkled with humor. “I guess you were as…slow as molasses.”

While most of the table groaned at her terrible joke, Dick snorted into his milk, causing it to splatter on his plate and across the table.

“Nice one,” he coughed, wiping his face and the dark oak surface.

(Y/N) bowed dramatically. “Well, I did learn from the best.” When Dick’s face lit up, she turned to Alfred and smiled. “Alfie, thank you for teaching me your ways.”

The old butler merely tipped his head, a hidden smile crossing his lips at the way the eldest son’s jaw went slack. She turned her attention to Bruce who was quietly chewing, eyes following along the research paper she’d asked him to check out.

“Dad, what’s on your agenda for today?”

He swallowed and flicked a line out with a red pen, etching his own comment in the margin. “Lucius has a few ideas about some new gadgets he wanted to run by me.” Another line went out. “I’ll call him after breakfast.” Bruce looked at her. “You?”

(Y/N) nodded at the paper in his hands, then slapped Jason’s who was reaching over to take a piece of bacon from her plate. “Waiting for you to finish tearing me a new one so I can redo the paper.” She cut into the waffle with the side of her fork. “Once I salvage what little scientific dignity you’ve left me with, I’ll probably laze around.”

“You mean what you do normally?” Bruce quipped, grinning when she glowered at him; his eyes went back to her paper. “You’re doing well so far.”

She huffed. “Tell that to every red line you’ve marked out in that paragraph.”

He flashed the paper. “I’m writing in the margins how to change it. This isn’t a dissertation, sweetheart. You’re allowed to make mistakes. We all do.”

(Y/N) grumbled as her cheeks warmed and she went back to her plate as the conversation flowed around her.

Most of it was the discussion of what everyone was planning on doing, Damian was going to play video games, Tim was going to join him (which she knew was going to be fun while the moment lasted until the petty sibling rivalry got in the way and their gaming dwindled into a physical fight that she and probably Dick were going to have to break up), Jason was going to use the workbench in the cave to upgrade some gear, and Dick apparently,

“Wally and Garth are gonna come over later and hang out.”

She paused, mid-stab of her fork and looked at up. “Wally’s coming over?”

He nodded. “And Garth. We were gonna go to the mall and get some new clothes.”

Jason snorted, laying an arm over the backs of Tim and (Y/N)’s chairs. “Spending money with daddy’s credit card, Dickie?”

Dick smirked. “Just like you.” Jason merely matched his grin, and while the entire table was cracking up at Bruce’s frown, (Y/N) was silent, heart beating faster at the thought of seeing Wally.

“(Y/N)?” She startled and looked up at Dick.

“Huh?”

“I asked if you were okay. You got quiet all of the sudden.”

She smiled and shook her head. “Yeah, just thought about all of the corrections I’m gonna have to do because somebody CAN’T STOP MARKING OUT MY PARAGRAPHS.” Bruce merely smiled and knocked out another line.

It was a lie. It was the biggest lie she’d told right next to the one she told when Bruce had asked her where she was on prom night her senior year a few years ago—she was totally not saving a different sector of the universe with Kyle Rayner, she was dancing with Sam Reilly all night—she strongly believed her dad knew the truth—Batman knew everything.

Bruce handed the paper back to her and she groaned as she scanned the red lines on every page. It was going to take her hours to go over this.

Jason leaned over and read the title, “Cellular Division and Mutation Under Extreme Elemental Circumstances…a composition by (Y/N) Wayne.” He cocked a dark brow. “Go big or go home, huh, baby girl?”

(Y/N) hummed. “Doctor Halberd wanted us to pick challenging topics for the research paper this term.” A crooked smile crossed her lips. “I’m nothing if not ambitious about proving I’m smarter than everyone else.”

“You need another source,” Bruce murmured, sipping the steaming black coffee. “One-fourteen is good, but I’d go for one-fifteen.”

She groaned and dropped her head. “Are you kidding me? I had enough trouble gathering that many.”

“Why don’t you use Barry?” Tim piped up, mouth full of whip cream and strawberries.

“Master Timothy, we do not talk with our mouth full,” Alfred admonished, and Tim blushed.

(Y/N)’s head shot up and she stared at her brother. “That’s actually a good idea. Speedsters would make for perfect references about cellular division.” An idea popped into her head and she glanced at Dick. “And since Wally is com—”

“Nope,” Dick interrupted, pointing at her. “Wally is coming over to hang out, not to be poked and prodded to finish a paper.”

She let out a whine and turned to Bruce. “Dad, tell Dick to let me at least talk to Wally about it.”

Bruce turned his attention onto Dick. “Let your sister talk to Wally about her paper.”

“Oh, come on,” he complained and (Y/N) stood from her seat, hurrying around the table to stand behind Dick’s seat.

She draped herself over his shoulders, tucking her chin in the crook of his neck. “I promise I won’t be annoying if you let me come with you. I’ll ask two questions every thirty minutes and I’ll go do shopping on my own, so I won’t be in the way.” (Y/N) craned her neck and pulled the most pitiful puppy eyes she could. “Please?”

Dick’s eyes darted to her face and then he looked away. Just one more push.

“Please frate?” she begged and when his eyes went wide from the usage of his native tongue, she knew she’d won him over.

He deflated and let out a sigh. “Fine,” he grumbled. “You can come with us.”

(Y/N) squealed and pressed a kiss to his cheekbone, as she grabbed the paper and hurried towards the door. She halted and spun around, looking at her father.

“What do I need to be most specific about?”

“Division under elemental circumstances.”

She glowered at him. “No shit Sherlock. Specifics.”

“Molecular division under terrestrial gamma-ray flashes.”

“That’ll work,” (Y/N) nodded and exited to room.

Jason looked out the door then back to his brothers. “She’s way to excited about science sometimes.” They merely laughed.

***

She raised the red lace, cold shoulder V-neck shirt to her chest before frowning, and switching it with the full lace blue shirt with mini golden lightning bolt charms hanging off the trim. After a moment, she pulled the blue one down and sighed.

“You know, if you want to impress him, I’d wear the red shirt.”

She jumped and barely managed to suppress the scream that was coming up in her throat as she swiveled around to face her door. Jason stood in the doorway, a knowing look on his face. She could play this one of two ways: she could be truthful, or she could lie—she chose the latter.

“What do you mean?” He snorted and walked into her room, taking a seat at her desk.

“I mean if you’re trying to impress Wally, wear the shirt that’s the color of his suit, (Y/N).” She looked away and into the mirror, but she couldn’t escape the eyes boring into her back.

“Is it that obvious?” she asked quietly, and he laughed.

“That you’re head over heels for Dick’s best friend? Oh yeah. Totally.”

She sighed and sat on her bed, pulling the red top over her torso. “It’s just a crush.”

“Seems like more than a crush to me, baby girl.”

(Y/N) pulled the fabric down and looked at him. “Are you gonna tell Dick?”

Jason scoffed. “Do I look like a narc to you?”

She cocked a brow and deadpanned, “Just the other night you told dad that Damian lifted Two-Face’s wallet when he was being put in a cruiser.”

“Well, that wasn’t something important,” he countered and nodded at her. “This is.” He paused and shrugged. “Nah, I’m not gonna tell Dickhead. Play this out however you see fit, baby girl.”

(Y/N) stared at him for a moment then averted her gaze and let out a sigh; Jason huffed.

“That sounds like a heavy sigh, (Y/N). What’s wrong?”

She shrugged. “I don’t even know if Wally would be interested in me. He’s him and I’m me.”

Jason stood and walked over, kneeling in front of her. “Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?”

(Y/N) met his eyes. “Anytime he’s had a girlfriend she’s always been super strong or really outspoken.”

“And you’re not?” he quipped, causing her to huff.

“You know what I mean, Jay.”

He nodded. “Okay, so you’re not an Amazon or shoving your head up someone’s ass for a story. But you’re you.”

“And that means?”

“You’re the only daughter of the World’s Greatest Detective who’s a wicked smart science major by day and a badass vigilante by night.” He cupped her cheeks. “You are intelligent, warmhearted, talented, and absolutely beautiful.” Jason smushed her cheeks together and grinned as she giggled. “And if Wally doesn’t see any of what I just said, then he’s a damn fool and not worth your time. You hear me, baby girl?”

She nodded. “I hear you.”

Jason gave her a firm nod and let go, standing to his feet. “Now come on let’s go do your makeup.”

(Y/N) blinked. “You can do makeup?”

“Baby girl, I can do a lot of things. Now hurry up. That razor sharp eye liner and golden eyeshadow isn’t going to do itself.”

***

She waited beside Dick with a pleasant smile on her face, and despite the fluttering heartbeat in her chest, Jason’s pep talk kept running through her head and with every passing moment, she felt her confidence rising. He was right, if she told Wally and he didn’t feel the same, then it was his loss and her gain to move on and find someone else.

A black sedan pulled up at the manor and the passenger window rolled down, revealing Wally at the wheel and Garth in the passenger’s seat. Dick waved at them.

“Hey guys,” he greeted. “How was the drive over?”

“Oh, you know, we saw three carjacking’s and one armed robbery,” Garth quipped. “I assume that’s normal for Gotham though.”

“It’s a bit below average actually,” (Y/N) piped up. “Hi Garth. Hi Wally.”

Wally smiled and Garth waved in return as the two siblings started getting in the car.

“You’re coming with us, (Y/N)?” Wally questioned and she nodded.

“Do you want me to lie to you or give you the truth?”

He chuckled. “I’m always open for a good story.”

“I wanted to buy out Victoria’s Secret and piss off any boyfriends who are in hot water with their girlfriends.” The guys laughed and she admitted, “Truth though, I need one last source for a research paper.”

“Gonna find that source shopping?” Garth asked and (Y/N) caught Wally’s eyes in the rear-view mirror.

“Actually, my last source is Wally.”

They fell silent and looked at her, though the speedster’s focus was on the road.

“What are you gonna source Wally on?” The Atlantean inquired.

“My paper is over cellular mutation under distress from elemental conditions.” She smiled at Wally. “Our speedster here, is a walking subject perfect for the paper. I can only hope that he agrees to be a willing participant.”

Wally chuckled. “I’d be willing to part with a few secrets for you. Of course, I’d have to—”

“Remain anonymous.” (Y/N) winked. “I’m sure my professor would be okay with me citing ‘The Flash’ so long as I had a picture with him to back it up.”

“I like pictures,” he murmured, pulling into the parking lot.

“That’s good to know,” she replied and when he put the car in park, she took her purse and added, “So I’ll leave you boys to do your shopping and Wally, I’ll text you any questions I have.”

“You’re not gonna hang around?” Garth asked and she shook her head.

“Nah, I don’t wanna be the annoying little sister who follows her older brother and his friends around.” She smiled at them. “Besides, Dick was kind enough to let me come along. Least I can do is stay out of your way.”

(Y/N) opened the door and waved at them. “Text me when you’re ready to leave and I’ll meet you back here.”

***

Despite the initial joke that she was going to buy out the lingerie store, there was actually some truth in the statement, and she drew her fingers over one of the lace baby dolls as she looked at her phone, grinning like a dope at Wally’s response.

Well, I wouldn’t say I’d grow a second skin from how fast my cells regenerate, but I can make my body heal instantaneously. -W

Can you regenerate limbs or major organs? –(Y/I)

Major organs or useful ones? -W

(Y/N) paused at his response and thought for a moment. It was risky. Sending the text, she was thinking about was risky, but it’d sure get her point across that she was into him. With her heart hammering in her chest, she pushed send and stuck her phone in her pocket.

Whichever ones are useful to you, Wally? ;) –(Y/N)

Her phone didn’t buzz for a good minute, and Wally took less than a second to reply, so he was doing one of two things: A.) Telling Dick that his younger sister sent a flirty text, or B.) Trying to figure out how to let her down easy. (Y/N) didn’t know which one was worse. Her hip buzzed and she inhaled shakily, pulling her phone out of her pocket with one eye cracked open to see how screwed she was.

Do you have a useful one in mind, beautiful? -W

She had to clamp a hand over her mouth to keep from letting out the biggest gasp any human had ever made, and she nervously looked around her to make sure no one else was staring at her. She grinned as she replied to him.

Oh, I could think of one…or two or three…Why? Is there gonna be a pop quiz over this later? I’ll have you know I’m an excellent test taker. –(Y/N)

Is that so? Well, what happens if you were to fail this particular pop quiz, (Y/N)? -W

I guess you’d have to stay the night for a study session and help me make a better grade ;) –(Y/I)

As she waited for another response, someone’s hand touched the small of her back and she reacted, immediately stepping away from the offending touch to spin on them. Her eyes went wide when she saw Wally standing before her, a grin on his face, phone in his hand.

“I think an overnight study session is possible, (Y/N).”

Her mouth opened and closed repeatedly, like a fish until she finally got her brain to work and asked, “I thought you were shopping with Dick and Garth?”

He shrugged. “Told Dick you asked me an advanced question that’d be easier to answer in person than over text.” He wiggled his brows. “You know, advanced equations and scientific gibberish.”

(Y/N) huffed a laugh and turned back around, trying to ignore the heat in her cheeks as she picked up one of the teddies. And when she realized what it looked like, she only felt more flustered. Crimson with baby blue trimming and was practically a shoelace.

“Well, that’sa hint if there ever was one,” Wally quipped, and she pulled the lingerie out of his line of sight.

“It was just the first one I grabbed!” she exclaimed, snapping her mouth shut when people looked over at them. Her cheeks felt like they were wildfires, and she pressed her head against the cool metal of the rack, sighing with what little relief it provided.

“You know, (Y/N),” he started softly. “If you’re not comfortable, this doesn’t have to go anywhere. I can forget this ever happened if you want me to.” (Y/N) opened her eyes and peered at him, at the concern but also the kindness in his gaze.

“I just—” she murmured and trailed off before letting out a sigh. “It’s kinda complicated.”

“Okay,” Wally nodded. “My mouth might work faster than my brain sometimes but lay it on me.”

She cracked a smile and thought back on Jason’s words. If Wally doesn’t see any of what I just said, then he’s a damn fool and not worth your time.

(Y/N) took a deep breath and looked at him, admitting, “Wally, I have…feelings for you.” His eyes widened and though she felt the sting of embarrassment, she pushed out her words. “It’s stupid, like one of those dumb childhood crushes that just sticks with you, you know?”

She averted her gaze and looked at her peep toe heels. “I just don’t wanna screw anything up because even if you don’t feel anything like I do, I don’t wanna lose you as a friend. Because I do value your friendship.” She sighed. “And Dick. I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable about coming over to see him if there’s a chance you’ll have to see me too. I just—”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Wally interrupted gently, a smile growing on his face. “You’re thinking way big here, (Y/N). Bigger than you need to right now.”

She met his eyes. “Right now?” she repeated, and he reached out, taking her hand in his. His fingers felt tingly against her palm and he smiled.

“I like you, (Y/N).”

She blinked at him, practically dumbfounded. “You…you do?”

Wally nodded and confessed, “Have for a couple years, but I didn’t wanna make a move not knowing if you were interested.” His cheeks tinged pink, and he said, “But I’m glad you are. Like super glad.” (Y/N) giggled, suddenly feeling really foolish for all her worry and Wally let out a chuckle too.

She stared at him for a moment, relishing the coolness of his skin before pulling away, toying with the teddy in her other hand.

“So, about tonight…you staying over?”

Wally let out a groan and looked between her and the lingerie. “Probably, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to get away long enough to spend some time alone with you.”

(Y/N) let out a ‘pfft’ and winked. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out, Flash. You are the fastest man alive.”

“You’re into quickies? Good to know,” he grinned.

“Shut up,” she giggled.

[whetstonefires]

in the shadows

hey guess who has two thumbs and just spent 5 hours straight writing another batman AU?

-

Batman wasn’t a person.

He faked it very well. When the League gathered, the line of his mask against pale skin looked natural and human, a little more perfectly fitted than the Flash’s but not quite as perfect as Green Lantern’s, which was an energy projection and not a real object and thus lay against his face flawlessly, without shift or gap.

His mouth didn’t bend into many expressions and his body language wasn’t voluble, but the emotive gestures that he did make were pretty normal. The rare smile seemed honest. He had a heartbeat, perfectly steady. His shadow (almost) always matched the shape that was blocking the light.

The stories that came out of Gotham, about the Bat—those could be exaggerations, born of terror and manipulated perception. Clark, of all people, knew how much you could convince people to believe things that weren’t real, because they made a better story. Even the scraps of photography and film showing a towering thing of black fog and long fangs could have been some clever trick with projectors.

The fact that Superman couldn’t see through his suit just meant it was well made.

He’d had to pool his observations with Diana and J’onn before he’d been sure he wasn’t imagining things. But Martian Manhunter knew shapeshifting, and said the block against his mind when he tried to touch Batman’s thoughts did not feel quite human. And Superman knew what posing as human looked like. And Wonder Woman knew truth, and its absence.

Batman wasn’t human. Which wasn’t the problem, of course.

The problem was that he was pretending he was. Pretending it rigorously in a situation where there shouldn’t be any need, unless he had something worse to hide. Pretending it in a way that overlaid on a certain inhuman predatory grace began to look very dangerous indeed.

Superman could see both things in him now, watching narrow-eyed through a roof into the room where Batman bent over a child’s bed, cape swirling up larger and darker than he let it get around them. The man and the hungry creature, flipping in and out of focus, neither ever gone but superimposed, like a trick picture that was two things at once.

Knuckles ghosted over the boy’s cheek, claws turned inward, and the child sighed softly, and sunk deeper into sleep. Batman’s heart wasn’t beating, but Clark could monitor the child’s vitals easily from here.

Batman drew his hand back, and tipped his head up—looking back at Superman as though the roof was no more a barrier to his perceptions than to Clark’s. Waited a beat, as if making sure his attention had been noticed, and then passed soundlessly between the other beds to the window, slid it open, and launched himself out through it and up onto the roof.

He didn’t bother to restrain himself to even a plausible approximation of human limits, now. The arm he reached up to the edge of the roof to pivot himself up by was too long, and his shoulder rotated further than it should have been able to, and he landed with impossible soundlessness in a billow of cape that was far, far larger than any cape that only reached to his heels should have managed, and which faded out at the edges into shadow. He knew he was found out.

Superman took the obvious invitation, and sunk down to join him. It was better, sitting like this, facing the same way on the ridgepole of a two-story building. Batman hadn’t hurt that child, that he could tell. There was no need to make this a confrontation.

“I don’t understand why,” he said at last. Out of deference for sleeping children, he kept his voice soft—he would have worried about a human being able to hear it, but now he knew he didn’t have to worry about that with Batman. “Why go to so much trouble to deceive us? We haven’t kept secret what we are. Not from you.”

Alien, alien, user of alien weapon, magical princess…

Batman sighed. He spoke almost as softly as Clark had, and his voice sounded the same as ever, except for the fact that a human voice couldn’t get this quiet without falling into a whisper. “I’m not like you.” He turned.

He’d let some of the details of his human mask fall away—what must have been the exhaustively rendered texture of skin, the flakes of dry skin on chapping lips, a crease at the corner of his mouth that had suggested he scowled or smiled more, outside of his costume. There was no pretense of a jawbone, under the skin, though the jawline externally hadn’t changed. The cowl still looked like something he was wearing, but Clark knew it was not. It flexed like skin when Batman narrowed his blank white eyes and said, “I can see you know that.”

“You’ve visited that kid every day for weeks,” Clark said. “Why?”

Batman stared at him. “How long have you known?”

“Batman…”

“You’re confronting me now because you’re worried about my intentions toward Dick. He changed your mind about something. Ergo, you’ve been sitting on this for a while. How long have you known I wasn’t real?”

That was such a bizarre choice of words Clark almost skipped answering the question to chase it down, but he held himself back. This wasn’t a story, and Batman wasn’t even a hostile source so far, if it had been. “Wonder Woman, J’onn and I pooled our observations about four months ago, in April. We were pretty sure by the time we finished comparing notes.” He shrugged. “I suspected something a long time before that, but it’s hard to say when it started to be more than…a feeling.”

“A feeling,” Batman echoed. “Yes, it would start there.”

“So?” Superman prompted. He had liked Batman. He was the last person who could insist that someone hiding the truth of his own nature was reprehensible, though the sting he’d felt about it was an uncomfortable reminder of how much most of his friends would resent him, if they knew the truth. So he’d meant to let it lie, until Batman chose to trust them, or gave them a reason not to trust him. “Why have you been visiting…Dick?”

It wouldn’t be suspicious on its own—well, not very suspicious, all things considered, in context—except that Batman had changed, around the same time. Diana said his presence seemed deeper, Clark thought he seemed to be having trouble staying within the outlines of his human mask. J’onn agreed that he seemed somehow more powerful.

Batman stayed silent a long time. Eighteen heartbeats from the boy below them, slower than those of his peers because he had an athlete’s conditioning already and was more deeply asleep than most of them. At last, the being beside him confessed, “He’s carrying me.”

“What?”

“You noticed I’m stronger now,” Batman said matter-of-factly, in a way that almost managed to cover up emotion. “That’s his doing. I was…fading, when you met me. Not up to capacity. I’m not really meant to exist that way.” He glanced over at Superman again, as though evaluating his reaction, and Clark wondered if he had really needed to do that—if he really only saw out of his eyes. J’onn could make eyes anywhere he wanted some, but he needed them to see. Batman seemed somehow less constrained by biology than that.

“Is it hurting him?”

“No! No. It…shouldn’t.” Batman ghosted a sigh, voiceless, inhuman as the wind. “I don’t know that it’s good for a child to be around me. But I’m not…taking anything from him. I’m not…feeding on him, if that’s what you think.”

It was what Clark had feared. And probably anything that would eat a child would also lie about it, but Batman was his teammate and very nearly his friend. So it was reassuring to have it so firmly denied. He’d come braced for only a little and no lasting damage and he said it was fine.

“Please,” he said. “Can you explain it to me?”

“I suppose I have to.” Batman tipped his head back, to look up at the few stars that smudged themselves visible through the red blanket of light-polluted smog overhead. Clark could make out more of them, even with his ordinary visible-light vision, than a human could have. He wondered what Batman saw. “Will you tell the others for me? Your little conspiracy?”

“Not Green Lantern and Flash?”

“Hal and Barry can figure me out on their own.” That dry sense of humor was the same, even if it was bending amusement onto a mouth that could no longer pass as human.

A breath Clark suspected he didn’t need was drawn. “A different little boy made me up,” Batman said. “Bruce Wayne. You can look the story up in the newspaper archives.

“It was a little over twenty years ago, in Gotham. A mugger shot his parents in front of him.” Another slanted glance, and then he looked away again. He certainly acted like he needed his eyes to see. “It wasn’t more terrible than things that happen to a hundred other people every day, really. But he was the right kind of terrified and angry, in the right place, at the right moment…the police reports all say he tackled the mugger from behind, and got lucky that the man hit his head. But it was me. I took him down.”

He raised his face back toward the smudged stars. “I was such a small thing, then. If that vengeance had been enough—the killer taken in and sentenced, brought to justice—I would have faded away again. Things like me are summoned and dispelled that way all the time. Or he could have taken me back into himself—the danger was past, it wasn’t a chronic part of his existence, so I would have reintegrated, probably, and not hung around rising up to protect him for the rest of his life, and probably disrupting it in the process.”

That amused quirk to the horizontal slash of a mouth, again. “But it wasn’t enough. Not for him. He clung. He brooded. He wanted to protect everyone. And I grew.” Bittersweet and fond. “I grew until I really could help. Until anyone could see me, any time I liked. Until I was solid enough to get in half a dozen fights in one night without my blows starting to go right through the enemy.”

There was no way Batman was letting him know these things about how he worked, when he wasn’t holding back, by accident. They were being given.

“Where’s Bruce now?” Clark asked. Knowing it was probably a painful topic, but hoping to hear it was some rule of magic out of a storybook, that only a child had the right kind of belief to sustain a projection of this nature. That Bruce Wayne had grown up and moved on and had a career and a family, and perhaps didn’t remember that Batman was something he’d made.

Batman’s eyes closed, and vanished completely into the black of his head. He’d kept unspooling all the while he’d been talking, Clark realized, and the gouts and folds and flame-like flickers of his cape now sprawled over more than half the roof, leaving a great circle of open space around Superman himself, and a broad open route away from Batman, as though he couldn’t just go straight up if he wanted to get away. The billows of it had now collapsed in on themselves. His voice, when he spoke, was hushed and solemn, but calm. “He didn’t make it to sixteen. He died tackling a gunman who’d been holding up a corner store where he happened to be, buying junk food he wasn’t supposed to have. The cashier fumbled the register key and bent over to pick it up, and the man panicked and started shooting. Bruce saved lives, that night. But he didn’t survive. Because I wasn’t there. I was away protecting other people, like he’d asked me to.”

“I’m sorry,” Clark said. Inadequate as always, but more so, when he’d pushed for this truth and didn’t even understand enough to know how to offer comfort. He reached out to offer a comforting, boundary-respecting brief pat on the shoulder, like he might have when he had less idea what Batman was, and his hand hung still in the air, as the face Batman turned toward him was human again, so abruptly that even to his accelerated visual perceptions it looked like some sort of glitch.

“This is his face,” Batman told him, and the grief that hadn’t been in his voice before was worn on it, in the pull of the mouth and the bend of pain around the blank white eyes. He looked like he might cry. “The way he would have looked. He never…grew this far, but…”

“In memory of him, then,” Superman said, soothing, and was able to deliver the pat on the shoulder and withdraw. It sounded like Batman was in some ways the only surviving part of Bruce Wayne, and as such had every right to his appearance, but he clearly didn’t think of himself that way, and it wasn’t Clark’s place to try to alter his self-concept, or even make comment when he’d only just been introduced to it. “That seems appropriate.”

Batman shrugged. It looked very human, except for the way the cape parts of him reacted. “I knew it best.”

Had he held the memory of his…creator’s face in his head, updating it carefully to how he would have looked with every year or month that passed? That couldn’t be healthy. It also might be unavoidable, considering Batman’s origins.

“You went on protecting Gotham, afterward?”

“What else would I do?”

“And you joined us. When Starro came.” Batman nodded, as though that was only obvious. Clark supposed it was—when you were a supernatural entity created to protect human beings, why would you not answer a call to band together with other superpowered beings to save the world? “Why did you pretend?” he asked. “To be…”

“Human?” Batman asked. He snorted in derision, either at Clark’s inability to choose a word or his own deceit. “It wasn’t the first time. I talk to the police like this, sometimes. Witnesses. It reassures people, to be talking to a…person.”

That was the same reason J’onn made himself look more human, even in blatant green—it wasn’t entirely unlike why Clark kept his own life as Clark, why Superman didn’t wear a mask. “But why…” He’d gone to such lengths, to maintain the façade. Human jaw and teeth, sculpted solid to catch X-ray vision behind flesh he’d carefully made permeable to it, when even now with the image of Bruce Wayne’s face restored he wasn’t bothering. Consistent physical proportions. Always running close against the edge of normal human limits, of strength and speed and length of jump—not hanging back, but not throwing himself onto the front line either, contributing as much with tactics and analysis as actual combat. “Why try so hard to convince us?”

Batman shrugged. “I wasn’t holding back that much. I told you. I was fading. I was never meant to last. Once it turned out the team wasn’t a one-time thing, I still didn’t want to go through the whole…process of revelation.”

“But you’re doing it now.” Clark found he was grinding his teeth, because he was putting together a picture he didn’t like. “Because. Now you’re expecting to survive.” Batman had been dying. He hadn’t thought it was worth the stress of being honest with them, because he hadn’t expected to exist long enough for their relationships to matter.

Superman glanced down through the roof at the sleeping children, and one child in particular.

“I wasn’t there in time to save his parents, either,” Batman said, and Clark knew that feeling—all this power and yet you could still arrive too late, and be too little. But Batman was defined by that feeling, founded upon it almost, so it probably struck him deeper. “But I was there afterward. I protected him from the followup attacks, meant to stop him testifying about the sabotage he’d witnessed.

“And he clung to me, whenever I came…I do try to comfort them, especially when it’s children, but usually they’re at least a little bit afraid. He wasn’t. And he didn’t have anyone else to cling to. They wouldn’t let his parents’ friends in to see him more than once, and then they left town. And then, after I came to tell him that Zucco and his men were taken care of for good, when I left I felt the distance opening…I realized I was…his, now.”

There was a strange, wondering ache in the way he said it that made it easy for Clark to repress his own discomfort with the idea of anyone belonging to anyone else, and of something that looked like a grown man asserting an intimate personal bond with an unrelated child. Batman was supposed to belong to a child, it was how he’d been made, and he’d expected to die by inches in the absence of the one who’d made him, and now he suddenly wasn’t. This little orphan was the most precious thing in his world, that was plain, and to Clark at least it was equally plain that he felt a deep guilt at replacing the boy who had been his world before.

He wondered, suddenly, if Batman had ever been this honest with anyone in his existence. Had he been this open even with his Bruce, or had his need to protect led him to put on a front, and conceal every uncertainty?

The pale smudge of Batman’s face was still and remote, and his voice was nearly calm, but the darkness of his cape had spilled out over the whole roof now, and it was gently writhing. The route out for Superman, opposite Batman’s main body, had shrunk to the merest footpath. Was that there out of instinct, or a more conscious courtesy?

“You don’t have to leave that,” Superman said quietly, flipping his thumb toward the corridor of open shingle and beam. “I know you aren’t trying to trap me, and it won’t anyway.”

The path snapped shut almost instantaneously, and a little of the strain in the atmosphere faded—Batman had been holding himself back from encircling him completely only with continuous effort. Why? Did he naturally expand to fill the available space? Or was expanding in the form of the cape an expression of emotion that was uncomfortable to suppress, in the same way it was hard to sit still when you felt anxious, or hold your tongue when you got mad?

His teammate’s whole torso was turned away, now, and this too was easy to read—shame at his own inhumanity. In front of Clark, of all people. But then, Clark made it look easy, didn’t he? It even was easy for him, when it came to things like looking like he fit in.

J’onn should have been the one to come. But it disconcerted him not to be able to pick up anything Batman did not intentionally share—Clark didn’t think he’d learned to read human body language yet, beyond the most obvious things—and Batman had been known to use fire.

“It didn’t seem wise to seem to be trying to threaten you,” Batman said flatly, into the night.

“Thank you,” said Superman, because while he didn’t mind at this point, it would definitely have made him uncomfortable earlier, before Batman had made himself so vulnerable. “Could you, do you think?”

A sidelong look. “You’re less invulnerable to magic,” Batman said. “Probably.”

Something to keep in mind. The Flash was the only teammate he had now that he was reasonably sure he could take three falls out of three. Maybe they could start practicing against each other, if they could find somewhere they could risk making a mess on that scale. Sparring—he and Diana had tried it out, gingerly. If Batman wanted to stretch out his re-expanding powers in a secure environment…

“Do you have any plans, going forward?” Now that he had a future to plan for.

“I have someone who helps me,” Batman replied. “Bruce’s guardian, after his parents died. He wanted to leave Gotham, after…but he stayed. To try to help the city, in Bruce’s memory. And to keep an eye on me.” The amusement this time was bitter. “We don’t really get along. He thinks Bruce died because of me—that I made him feel invulnerable, and then didn’t protect him. He’s projecting. But I suppose that’s what I’m for.”

Clark made a face; he didn’t like the idea of people being for purposes. Even people who’d been made. This wasn’t the time to argue about it. “But he helps you?”

“He helps.” Batman glanced down, toward Dick’s bed, as though once again he could see through the roof. “I’m trying to get him to agree to take Dick in. He did a good job with Bruce, even if he doesn’t think so.”

“Will that be the best for Dick?” Clark asked, as neutrally as he could manage. He could tell Batman’s intentions were good, but he didn’t know if putting a child entirely within the influence of a supernatural being that had latched onto him, without an external line of support, was a good idea. On the other hand, putting him in the care of an adult who would know he wasn’t delusional could only help. And Clark could be the outside support, if necessary—not that he wasn’t under Batman’s influence himself, but he wasn’t within his circle of it the way this Alfred seemed to be, resentment or not. The resentment might be the most dangerous part.

What part of this train of thought Batman sensed, he couldn’t tell, as his comrade only retorted, “It can’t be worse than here!”

A group home with four beds to a room certainly wasn’t the best environment, but surely he couldn’t be here much longer. “Have you talked to him about it?”

“He doesn’t get much privacy. He agreed to meet with Alfred last time he ducked into a closet while I was there, so now Alfred’s the focus of the plan.” Batman sighed again. “He’s so brave,” he said fondly. “It worries me. I wish he were somewhere safe.”

The wild impulse rose to offer to step in, to take the role of legal guardian if this Alfred wouldn’t. Clark sat on it. He didn’t want a child, he wasn’t equipped to care for a child, CPS would be able to see that perfectly well in a single reporter in his 20s living in a one-bedroom apartment in a somewhat run-down building. He didn’t even live in the same state, and child placement was handled on a state-by-state basis so even petitioning for custody would be horrifically involved, never mind obtaining it. Also, he had a secret identity to protect.

He couldn’t always help. The hardest lesson in life, and one he had to keep relearning.

“So your plans are…to get Dick into a safe home environment.”

“And keep him alive,” Batman affirmed. Quick, and firm, and almost not obvious about what a vital goal this was to him. Keeping this child alive, the way he’d failed to keep the one before.

“Of course.” Clark nodded. If everything he’d been told was true—and he thought it was, it felt true—then there was no need for the League to intervene. Gotham was probably safer than it had ever been. “Can I meet him, sometime?” Partly to do his part as an outside support network. Partly because he was curious, to meet this child who’d been able to reach his hand into Batman’s chest and close his fingers around his heart.

Batman glanced over, and then seemed to relax. Even the endless piles of his cape seemed suddenly to behave more like ordinary fabric. “I passed, then?”

“What?” Oh. Of course he’d known. Clark had hardly been sneaky. “Yes.”

“Not that I know what you were planning to do if I hadn’t.”

Clark didn’t know either, other than get Dick away of he seemed to need it.

“All of this is off the record, of course,” Batman added. It was a testament to how distracted Superman was by Batman’s problems that it took a long second for him to realize the potential implications of that choice of words, and read in Batman’s posture and the way his cape had developed hooks of tension in some of its folds that they were entirely intentional.

“How long have you known?” he asked.

“You attended a press event in Gotham two years ago. You still feel like you, no matter how you dress.”

“Well.” Superman tried to shake the sudden tension out of his shoulders. Batman was a good detective and data analyst, that hadn’t changed with the rest of it. He’d certainly tracked down the name of the gentleman from the Planet. “I guess that’s fair. And of course it’s off the record. I won’t even tell J’onn and Diana anything but the basics without your permission.”

“Oh.” Batman clearly hadn’t expected that. “Why?”

“You have a right to your privacy.” Clark thought back over his own approach to the whole situation and said, with a gentleness born somewhat of guilt, “You are a person, after all.”

“I’m really not,” Batman said, corner of his mouth ticking up just slightly to underline the easy irony in his voice. But the great spread of cape had fallen into easier, more geometric wrinkles, and Clark was beginning to learn to trust that over what he said with his borrowed face. Though he could almost definitely lie with the cape part of himself, too, if he needed to.

“Don’t…” His tongue flickered across the back of his teeth; be brave, Kent. “Don’t talk about my friend that way, huh?”

[berjhawn]

Day & Night ~ Ch. 3 ~ Blindside

Bruce Wayne/Batman X Reader (Lady Light) X DC 

Warnings: Past trauma, loss of parents, break ups, genetic engineering, taking peoples DNA without permission, ETC

(A/N) as usual please tell me what you guys think we are almost to the middle of the story. i hope you guys are enjoying it. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bruce sat at the League meeting table his mind focused on other things. This mission that Clark was talking about doing was an in and out type. He didn’t need to be here. Hell, tonight he didn’t want too to be here. He wanted to be home, with (Name), and the boys enjoying some down time.

Then he does something he hadn’t done in the middle of a meeting before. He pulls out his cell phone. He sends her a text asking what she was doing and smiles as she instantly replies. As he goes to send her another text Diana clears her throat. Bruce looks up to see them all looking at him.

“I didn’t know Batman could smile.” Barry announces confusion filling his words.

“He doesn’t.” Oliver adds mimicking Barry’s expression.

“I don’t.” Bruce adds making Diana smirk as she rolls her eyes. “You must be seeing things.”

“Walk with me Bruce.” Diana says as she stands up and moves toward the exit while Clark tries to reign in the rest of the league members.

“What is it?” Bruce asks as they walk down the hallway.

“This woman you are dating must be amazing to have you ignoring a meeting like that.” Diana inquires and Bruce knows where this is going.

“She is.” Bruce states honestly trying to drop the conversation.

“Is the reason you won’t show her face to the public, because it’s (Name)?” She asks and worry fills Bruce’s body. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell the big guy. I’m glad that she’s finally happy. She deserves that and so much more.”

“She doesn’t know it’s me.” Bruce says making Diana cock an eyebrow in surprise. “She doesn’t want anything to do with this life anymore. I couldn’t bring myself to tell her.”

“Keeping secrets from (name) will only cause her more pain.” Diana states her eyes filling with remorse. “Trust me, telling her the truth is better than her finding out from someone else.”

“Why did she leave?” Bruce asks curiosity filling his voice. “She wouldn’t tell me, or the Bat.”

“It’s not my place to say,” Diana starts moving to look out the window of the watchtower to Earth below. “But if you are serious about her, I will tell you what I can.”

“I love her.” Bruce states with absolutely no hint of a lie in his voice.

“(Name) wasn’t born on Themyscira, she washed up on our shores when she was a child after her mother drowned at sea. Her father used the last bit of his strength to save his only child. My mother found her on the beach on deaths door. Her father lay dead beside her.

“From the moment my mother met (Name) she knew she was special. She once said that it was like the gods had blessed her with the essence of the sun, and she was right. (Name) is basically the sun in human form. Her powers are limitless, and unpredictable. Especially when she is upset.

“Against my mother’s better judgement, she let (Name) leave Themyscira to learn about your world. With every new experience she had (Name) just became more certain that she didn’t wish to return to our home. Then one day she witnessed us save the earth and she wanted to help. So, I brought her here. Hoping this would give meaning to her life.

“At first everything was going well. She and Clark had bonded and for a while they were inseparable. But then,” She pauses for a moment before she continues, “Remember when Connor showed up and Clark ignored him?”

Bruce nods.

“At the time Connor only knew one thing. That he was the product of cloning and that Lex Luthor and Clark were his fathers, so he naturally sought Clark out.”

“But Clark rejected him. I remember I had to have a talk with him about it.”

“While Connor was going through all these emotions about being abandoned, He sought Luthor out. It was then he learned that there was another being that was used in his creation.”

Bruce furrowed his brow, not liking where this was going.

“Luthor told him that he tried to use (Name)’s DNA along with Clark’s and his to make the ultimate being. What Luthor didn’t account for was (Name)’s abilities, her powers, cannot be shared with another being. They belong to her and her alone. However, the genetic mutation that gave her her powers, that can be used to amplify the Kryptonian genes.

“So, having been ignored and abandoned by Clark, Connor sought out the next person in his creation. He sought out his mother.”

“(Name),” Bruce adds and Diana nods.

“When Connor told her what Luthor had said she had the opposite reaction Clark did. I remember her telling me she was shocked and confused as to how they were able to get her DNA, but she wasn’t about to abandon Connor. Whether she wanted it or not, she believed she was partially responsible for him. (Name) became Connor’s mother.”

“Why didn’t I know about this?” Bruce asks anger radiating from him.

“No one did.” Diana confirms folding her arms over her chest. “The only ones who knew were (Name), Luthor, Connor, Clark, and me. We decided it was best to keep it a secret from everyone.”

“If she took over as Connor’s mother, why did she decide to disappear?” Bruce asks.

“(Name) confronted Clark. She tried to get him to help Connor out. She wanted to be the bridge that helped the two of them bond.”

“But?”

“Clark wouldn’t have it. They argued constantly, and then one day (Name) was gone. Whatever happened, why she decided to leave, only her and Clark know the answer to that.” Diana concludes and Bruce has the sudden urge to see (Name).

“There is only one thing I’m not clear on.” Bruce says and Diana turns toward him a confused look on her face. “Who gave Luthor her DNA? We know he got Clark’s because he used Kryptonite to make him weak, but how did he get (Name)’s? last time I checked, she was invulnerable.”

“I have my suspicions, but nothing concrete.” Diana concludes.

Bruce senses someone coming and instantly ends the conversation.

“Thank you,” Bruce says, and she nods.

“You need to tell her, or you’ll lose her.” Diana says before she turns and walks away back toward mission control.

Bruce takes a deep breath and then pulling out his cell phone is about to send her a message when he gets one from her.

‘We need to talk.’

~~~~~~

I stand there frozen in place as I stare motionless at my son’s bright blue eyes. How was he here? How did he know where I was? I wasn’t angry with him but because he looked so much like his father, I needed space away from him.

“Connor, what are you doing here?” I ask and his brow furrows.

“I wanted to see you.” He replies wanting to come in but afraid I would reject him.

I look back at the boys still sitting on the couch and I push my anger and hurt away and motion for him to come inside.

“Come in, please.” I say and he follows.

Once he is inside, I close the door behind him and as my emotions get the better of me, I reach out and pull him into my arms. I hold him as tight as I could as he grips tightly to me. Tears sting my eyes as I think about how much I had truly missed him. Even if I hadn’t given birth to him, Connor was my son. I would always be there for him.

“I’m sorry you had to leave.” Connor says into my shoulder and I shake my head.

“It’s not your fault.” I reply as I pull away from him to cup his cheeks. “You did nothing wrong. I just couldn’t stay there anymore.”

“(Name) you okay?” I hear Damian ask and Connor’s head shoots to look at the boy who was standing in the hallway next to Jason.

“Yeah I-”

“What are you two doing here?” Connor questions anger in his voice.

“What’s it look like super-boy?” Jason retorts and my eyes widen.

“Wait, you all know each other?” I ask glancing back and forth between them.

“They’re Batman’s sidekicks.” Connor announces and my heart drops.

“No, then that would mean that Bruce is…” I pause everything starting to make sense. “Oh, how did I never see it?”

“(Name)?” Damian questions and I turn to look at both him and Jason in a new light.

If they were Batman’s sons, then they knew who I was from the beginning. They all did. Is that why Bruce approached me? Was he just keeping tabs on an unstable superhero? Did he even truly care about me?

“Boys, I think it’s time you guys went home.” I say my heart tightening in my chest.

“Come on Damian,” Jason says to his little brother as he reaches for his jacket. “I think (Name) needs some time alone.”

“No, I don’t want to go. Everything was fine until he showed up. What is he doing here anyway?” Damian argues angrily.

“What am I doing here? I have a right to be here, why are you here?”

“Because we can be.” Jason adds narrowing his eyes at Connor. “What right do you have to be here?”

“She’s my mother!” Connor yells and I grab his arm stopping him.

“Connor, stop!” I yell making him close his mouth.

I glance back at Damian and Jason to see them staring at us in shock. My eyes find Damian’s and I don’t know why but I see disappointment and betrayal in them. My heart was screaming out for me to go to him and hold him, but I couldn’t.

“Please boys, please go home.” I plead with them and I watch as Damian’s eyes turn cold as he grabs his backpack and races past me out the front door.

“I got him.” Jason says as he quickly races off after him.

When they are gone, I close the door and walk past Connor to the couch. I collapse onto it as I feel my legs give out from under me.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” Connor starts but I stop him with just a sad look.

“I know sweetie. You didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.” I reply as I reach out to grab my phone.

“Are you okay?” He asks and I shake my head. I couldn’t lie to him.

“No, not really.” I reply as I send a quick text to Bruce.

“I shouldn’t have come.” Connor says instantly moving toward the door to leave.

“Connor, wait.” I call making him stop in his steps. “Come here.”

He waits for a second before he turns and walks over to sit beside me on the couch. Reaching up, I gently brush his hair back as I take a deep breath.

“Connor, you are always welcome wherever I am. I will never tell you differently. I may not have had any say in how you were born, but I will take responsibility and be there for you when ever you need me. I am your mother; I will never turn my back on you.” I say making him nod slightly as his eyes start to water. “You are the best thing I never knew I needed. So never ever feel like you don’t belong here with me. Okay?”

“I understand.” He concludes and I gently lean up and kiss his forehead.

“Now, what happened?” I ask, knowing that there was another reason for him coming to see me.

“I found out who gave your DNA to Cadmus.”

Will Continue - 

[yamithediaperdork]

Rescuing the baby (DC)

Barry Allen sighed as he was in the third hour of a 6 hour car trip, wondering for the millionth time why he had let his loving wife talk him into using a stupid car when he was the fastest man alive.

even as he cruised at a solid 55 MPH on the highway, it was like a slow walk to the man who when he wasn't being a CSI or a loving husband, happened to be the flash.

Of course he knew WHY and had agreed with her at the time, that Barry Allen managing to make it from Central city to Gotham in under 10 minutes would of raised all sorts of flag, but still. He hadn't even enjoyed the conference he'd been forced to go to by his supervisor, the highlight of the 3 day event had been hanging out with Batman.

Still it was over with and he vowed to find a way to squirm out of the next conference, even if he had to let a super villain or two out of jail. (Ok, he wouldn't actually do that but it was fun to picture on the long drive.)

Still there was a highlight on taking the long drive, it would give him a legitimate excuse to stop by and check on his favorite (well ok, only) nephew though his marriage to Iris: Wally west.

The boy had made a habit of spending any and all vacation time he could get (within reason) coming out and visiting them and while it made things a little harder on Barry's double life, seeing the freckled smiling face of the boy always made up for the slight inconveniences.

The only downside to making the trip without Iris (who had been kept busy with work) was there was no one to act like a filter between Barry and Rudy west, Wally's very unpleasant father who made his dislike of Barry well know while also never QUITE insulting Barry and giving him a excuse to put the bastard in his place. Barry knew that while Rudy would sight Barry's low income and long work hours as reasons that Barry might wanna find a 'real job', it was more the fact Wally looked up more to Barry then his own father that had turned the man more and more sour.

Barry also couldn't be totally sure, and wally wouldn't talk about it but since the poor boy had started bed wetting again Barry was convinced Ruby had started abusing his son, Mentally if not physically and disguising it as a spanking helped little bed wetters stop (a belief Barry did not follow)

Still he was sure wally would light up when Barry swung by as a surprise and if it just happened to ruin Rudy's day, gee, wouldn't that be a shame.

Rudy was home alone, having a beer (or two or three) and watching a game when there was a knock at the door. he started to call out for his wife Mary to go and answer the door before recalling where she was and got up out of his lazy-boy , cursing slowly as he spilled some beer on his plain white t-shirt.

"Hold your damn horses! I'm coming!" he called.

Already in a bad mood, it got worst as he saw who was at the door and sighing like he had the WORST luck, he opened the front door, sipping his bee that was still in his right hand.

"What do YOU want?" Rudy asked.

"Hi to you too Rudy." Barry said dryly , looking at his watch. "Little early for a brewski isn't it?"

"Don't tell me you drove all the way here to give me shit for enjoying a cold one on my day off." Rudy snorted. the booze took away what little filters he had and well, it wasn't like Iris or Wally or Mary were there to give him any shit.

"..I'm actually on my way back from a conference, and thought I'd drop by and see wally for a bit. and maybe enjoy your charming company." Barry said, then added. "Though PLEASE tell me you haven't been drinking in front of him? That's a bad example Rudy."

"Well Barry, when I want you to tell me how to raise my son I'll ask. Maybe I could give you advise on how to raise YOUR kids..Oh wait." Rudy said, smirking then taking a long drink, not aware the man he was insults could of stranded him in the middle of a city in just his boxers because he'd even know what was happening, and that Barry was fighting the urge to do so at this moment. "in any case, Wally's not here. He's in the ER with his mother. the little Klutz fell down the stairs and pretty sure he broke his ankle."

"Wait what? If he broke his ankle why aren't you-" Barry started, anger and fear mixing.

"Kid shit his pants and smelled something awful, so I stayed behind. wasn't room for me in the ambulance." Rudy paused and anther smirk. "and since I've been drinking I didn't wanna drive, I thought you'd appreciate that Barry."

"..How did Wally fall down the steps?" Barry asked, voice going low as something about the attuide and smugness in the man's voice had Barry worried.

"Stupid little dork tripped over his own pissy diaper when it hit the floor. you know he's wearing 24/7 now? started pissing himself at school!"

"...Rudy I happen to be VERY good at my job, and I'm going to drive over to the ER now and talk with Mary and see how wally's doing. If there's something you wanna tell me now, it'll help you out in the long run." Barry said, pushing his way into the house and the smile vanished from Rudy's face.

"I..I don't know what your-" Rudy stammered out, looking anywhere but at Barry now.

as much as Barry wanted to get the story out of Ruby, maybe go a little batman on him, his biggest concern was getting to wally before Mary, ever the dotting wife could convince Wally to keep the truth to himself.

"This is NOT over Rudy. Think about what I said about helping yourself. It IS what your best at." Barry said and stormed out.

Rudy gulped and slumped to the floor, wondering if it might of been time to call in some vacation time and take a little trip before Barry came back.

Barry's knuckles were going white as he drove to the nearest hospital, he wanted to just zip over but having the flash show up for a kid only Barry should know would of been against secret identity rule number one.

Still the time wasted on getting a parking spot and having to get directions irked him to no end when he knew he could of searched the place in less then 1.5 seconds.

Finding Mary sitting outside of the OR, he walked over to her and was silently counting down in his head as she looked annoyed and mad she was waiting on her only child to get out of surgery then worried.

"Barry, what are you doing here?" she asked, shocked and sounding a little worried.

"I went to stop by for a visit and Rudy told me what happened.." Barry said, then added. "How's Wally?"

"It's taking longer then they thought, they had to stop and change his diapers because he shit himself again. Like it wasn't taking long enough." Mary said and rolled her eyes then caught herself. "I mean, I just.. I'm annoyed he hurt himself is all. he should be really more careful where he puts his toys." She added fast.

Already spotting the difference in stories, Barry just rolled with it.

"Yeah, Rudy said it was a toy truck I believe. " Barry lied., hoping to catch her in the lie.

She looked confused for a second, then nodded.

"well, since he's started needing diaper ALL the time and his friends at school have shunned him, he's gone pretty infantile." she said.

"..Mary with this happening at home you know child services will be investigating right? So as a CSI my advice to you is to make sure you tell the truth. whatever it may be." Barry said, crossing his arms across his chest.

he didn't have the broad shoulders of Batman or superman, but he a twig either and cut a imposing frame.

"W-what do you mean by that?" She asked.

"Rudy told me Wally tripped down the stairs because of his diapers, you told me a toy, I'm damn good at my job Mary but it doesn't take a genius to guess what happened. I SAW the bruises last time me and Iris had him." Barry said flatly.

"I-I swear, it's not me Barry!" Mary said, keeping her voice low and looking around the waiting room now. it was only the two of them and it was clear she was scared now. "if I don't go along with it Rudy wi-" She started to add, But Barry cut her off.

"Iris and you went swimming together not too long ago and she would of told me about any bruises. If Rudy was mentally harming you then you would of taken this chance to out him. So drop the victim act."

"..Oh like you know what it's like, having a promising young boy end up pissing himself and shitting him and looking at his own parents with disdain because he'd rather be with his aunt and her side piece!" Mary snarled.

"watch your tone. Look, I'm willing to help you and Rudy out with this, stay out of jail because I don't want wally to have to visit you in prison..but the price is going to be simple and clear." Barry said.

"Let me guess, you need a loan?" Mary said, a smug smirk on her face reaching for a check book.

"I don't want your Money. I want wally somewhere safe. Me and Iris are going to take custody of him and your NOT going to contest it."

Mary argue, she called the house to tell Rudy about it but he wasn't answering having already taken off, leaving a note for Mary on where to find him and in the end Barry had his way. With Mary taking a taxi back home Barry cleared that he was the impending legal guardian and then located a pay phone. Calling Iris as he wanted on Wally to recover after his surgery to tell her everything that had happened, The only part of the whole thing she disagreed with was Barry letting them off Scott free.

After that he put in a call to a few friends in the DA and family court back in Central city and got assured the whole thing would be settled with minimal fuss.

Wally giggled softly as they wheeled him out of recovery. he was naturally in a wheelchair and dressed in a green gown that fluttered in the AC of the building revealing the thick green tinted diapers he was wearing and his left foot had a sock on it while the right had a thick off white cast around it. The boys freckles stood out as he smiled, his orangish red hair a mess and his eyes totally glazed over.

"Unca Barry! Hiiii!" he giggled and for a second went to get out of the chair before a nurse gently pushed him back down.

"Lizard queen, we talked about this, you can't walk yet." she said with a smile on her face and a amused tone.

"..Lizard queen?" Barry asked.

"Your nephew apparently has next to no tolerance for pain killers and well.." the blond nurse started but was cut off by Wally tossing his arms up.

"I AM THE LIZARD QUEEN! FEAR ME!" He giggled and coo'ed.

Barry snorted and nodded.

"I see. well is her Majesty ready to be signed out yet?" he asked, coming over and patting a head on wally head, a paternal gesture to most, and it was head, though he was also looking for lumps or bruises.

"we'd like to keep him for a little while longer, at least until he's more lucid and well, his clothes are clean and out of the landry. I'm sure the lizard queen would prefer not to drive around in just a diaper." the nurse chuckled."besides, you might wanna go and stock up on some item's Mr. Allen."

"Heh, touche. Wall man, you gonna be ok with the nurse while Uncle Barry goes and gets some supplies for you?"

"I can count to purple." Wally giggled and held out his arms for a hug.

"Oh wow, thats VERY talented!" Barry chuckled and kneeled down, Hugging the smaller boy gently and then feeling Wally slump and pulling back, alarmed.

"Relax Mr.Allen, it's the drugs, he's just been sleepy. Someone will stay with hi in his room to watch him." She said, putting a reassuring hand on Barry's shoulder.

the statement was made to sound like it was because of his drugged state, but the underline was that they were making sure Mr. and Mrs.west didn't come back.

"I'll be back as fast as I can." Barry said and took off.

Getting in the car he drove out to a field where he could park it and felt assured it would be left alone for at least a few minutes. Sliding out from behind the wheel and hitting a special ring he wore out popped a compressed version of his costume and making around in a blur, he quickly suited up and then put his clothes in the back seat of his car.

Experience had taught him that when it came to what he was likely going to need to to to pack a duffel bag for wally, his normal clothes wouldn't of made it.

in the micro seconds it took him to get to the west household a check check confirmed that the doors were locked and not wanting to give them any chance of coming back and getting him or Iris in trouble Barry backed up a few feet in their back yard where the sight of the flash wouldn't be seen(or at least not as easily) for the 2 seconds it would take to ready himself for this.

One of his more useful skills could also be terribly destructive if he wasn't careful so taking a deep breath he readied himself then started to dash at the back door, willing his molecules to vibrate just right and he was able to phase though the door clearly, not blowing it up like he'd done when he'd first learned this trick.

Racing up the stair Barry helped himself to a duffel bag and filled it with some of Wally's clothes, recalling his favorite t-shirts and pants, and as well as the boys gaming devices and a few of his action figures and books, and of course the teddy bear wearing a costume just like Barry's that they'd made at a make bear last year.

with the duffel bag full Barry helped himself to a back pack now, and filled it with the thick, over the top babyish diapers the wests had gotten their son, that while cute and made Barry warm up to a idea he was getting, made him fume as it was clear they had been trying to shame the boy out of his accidents.

he also helped himself to the changing supplies and noted the extra steanght diaper rash cream and made a note to ask the nurse about if wally had a rash when he got back.

Giving the room one last look over, Barry slowed down enough to be hit by the smell of the diaper pail in the corner and grimaced, smell molecules couldn't affect him when he was moving at super speed but they tended to come back with a vengeance once he slowed down.

Looking in the diaper pail the thing didn't even have a bag in it and was set where the sun was sure to hit it as well, and had marking on the inside showing how full it had to be before Wally would of been allowed to change it.

"..Should of smashed the bastard into a pulp when I had the chance." he growled, then sped back up, leaving the room.

he simply unlocked the back door and placed the bags on the grass as they wouldn't of survived the trip though the door then went back in and re locked it and zipped back though it before packing the bags in the car and changing back to his normal clothes, the whole thing taking all of maybe five minutes.

Getting behind the wheel of the car, he fished out a JLA commutator he kept with him at all times (which all Justice leaguer's were required to do, though some like Green tended to forget) and made a call to Batman, for the plan he had to make wally happy and settle in at home and life with the Allen's, he was going to need a bit of finical help.

Once the situation was explained Bruce was only too happy to help though recommended that they take Wally's recovery slowly, but warned Barry he wouldn't hold back if the west's happened to end up in Gotham city.

Barry took Batman's advice and extended his leave, even after wally was discharged from the hospital they didn't go to Central city right away, Barry taking the sullen and emotional boy to several road side attractions on the drive back.

wally had been unwilling to confirm that he'd been pushed down the stairs at first, even when it became clear that his parents had admitted to at least some of it. (as it turned out he'd been pushed down the stairs twice before this.)

The worried about diaper rash had been confirmed and while Wally whined that he could look after his own diaper changes, Barry was having NONE of that and insisted on changing his nephew, teasing the blushing boy about the freckles on his butt that became more clear as the rash faded.

Wally also was embarrassed at first but grew to like how Barry insisted on carrying the boy instead of making him use his crutches, his thin and light frame made it easy enough.

Getting home to central city Barry was all smiles and wally was actually more relaxed and ok, even eager to see Iris as they pulled up, who was in fact waiting in the drive way for them and rushed out.

"Wally! How are you? Are you ok?" She asked, showering the boy in hugs and kisses and fussing over him as he got out of the car on his crutches, having insisted on not being carried into the house.

"I'm fine aunt Iris, just a little sore. Aunt iris I'm.. Iris.. Barry help!" Wally giggled and then gave a mock plea for help.

"heh, Maybe let him get in the door before you shower him with love?" Barry suggested, getting his bags and Wally's out of the trunk of the car.

"Never!" iris chuckled but did back up, while adding. "Just so you know little guy, expect lots of that from me."

"heh, well I suppose I'll allow that." Wally said, grinning like a goof ball as he made his way towards the front door.

Iris and Barry exchanged grins, as if to say 'that's cute, he thinks he has a choice!'

getting the wall man inside Barry put the bags down by the door and swept Wally off his feet.

"wally, there's a little something that me and your aunt have been meaning to talk with you about, and we think it's going to help your recovery a lot." Barry said, heading for a room on the first floor that had been converted into wallies new room since they didn't like the idea of him having to go up and down stairs.

"Oh? what is it?" wally asked, not even fighting it as he was carried on Barry's hip, his thick diaper puffing out his cargo shorts.

"well, we think a bit of regression therapy would help with your recovery so on that note.." Barry said, and opened the door to Wally's new room.

The wall's were painted flash red with little flash symbols on the walls every few feet and there was a light yellow plush carpet on the floor.

what caught Wally's eyes though as the little guy's jaw dropped was the large changing table and a crib in the room, as well as a large toy chest.

"So.." Iris said coming up and kissing Wally's cheek. "what do you think of your nursery?"

[the-shadow-of-atlantis]

Similarities

Tagging: @melyaliz @thespacebuns @coffee-randomness

Summary: Annabella talks to Superboy

A/N Debbie who gets mentioned belongs to @melyaliz

Read Earlier Parts Here

There were days where Annabella regretted not telling the team about her empathy. Though she was not sure if their knowledge of it would really change anything still the thought of them knowing she knew how they felt just seemed frightening. They were already trying to be accustomed to the fact that M’gann can read their thoughts, now the little sister of Robin can read their emotions? How would they take that? Especially with the fact that she was Batman’s daughter.

Still her empathy was the hardest of her powers to deal with, being in a large crowed had been hard to get through these past couple of years. And she had hoped that with the team being such a small group it wouldn’t be so hard on her empathy, however she hadn’t thought about the teenage angst aspect of it.

Though when it came to Superboy teenage angst wasn’t really what she would call it. It was something deeper, something Annabella herself recognized. And though she wasn't sure if it was okay to share she knew it was something that needed to be talked about. Especially after the recent mission, she knew he had calmed down enough to start talking to Black Canary but there was a difference between talking to an adult about it and talking to someone who’s been through it.

“Supey mind helping me.” Annabella said as she appeared through the zeta tube attempting to tug at the huge cooler she had brought with her.

“What’s that for?” He asked, walking towards her.

“Food for the animals.” Annabella said with a smile. “Wanna help?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Eh not really.”

It had been a nice day out, the birds were definitely energetic as she spread a mixture of seeds and bugs. She whistled occasionally to get them to come and Superboy made a face.

“If you can speak with them with your mind why do you whistle?”

“Its fun, especially when they reply.” Annabella smiled as she paused. “What to hold one?”

Superboy didn't say anything so she just took it as a yes. She grabbed a small handful of the mixture and placed it in his hand and guided him to hold it out. Slowly the birds came perching on his fingers and poking at the mixture getting what they wanted before flying away.

“Come on I promised Sasha I'd visit more often and I’ve sorta dropped the ball.” Annabella said as she trudged along the trail.

“So is there a point to all this?” Supper boy asked as they sat in a small cave with Sasha and her kids.

Annabella sat there thinking of how to go about what she wanted to talk about, she slowly stroked Sashas fur.

“The first few years of my life it was just my dad and I, he was the only family I had until little by little I started meeting others. It started with my grandmother, then I met my aunt and uncle followed by a couple cousins. Shortly after my brother was adopted.” Annabella paused trying to sense what Superboy was feeling so far confused.

“However during this time I never met my mother, sure I had my grandmother but still it was like something was missing. I saw how my cousins had both of their parents and while I was never jealous, I did want a mom, my mom. The way everyone talked about her I had figured she was dead, that was the most logical reason right? I mean why wouldn’t my mother be around if that wasn't the case?”

Annabella felt him tense and figured he was starting to get what she was trying to say. She curled up now, hugging her knees and stared at the ground.

“I finally met her after sometime. She just showed up out of the blue somehow knowing about my powers claiming she could help me. I could never understand why my dad was so against her being near me. And why my grandmother made such an effort to keep me away from her. The night before my birthday my mother lured me away and then she tried to kill me.” Annabella frowned as the memories came jumbled and she was vaguely aware of Superboy staring at her in shock.

“I don’t remember that night that much, I just remember the aftermath of it all. My grandmother and my dad finally told me everything. I always knew I was a bit of an accident, I just never knew my mother wanted to get rid of me and held a grudge against my dad and grandmother when they wouldn’t let her. I didn't understand how my mother could hate me so much if she hardly even knew me. How could someone who should be the one who loves me the most end up being the one who hates me.”

Annabella took a deep breath and closed her eyes trying to focus on something else. And for once she felt a strange calmness roll off of Superboy and she clung to that.

“How did you get over it?” He asked quietly, Annabella smiled but it didn't quite reach her eyes.

“To be honest I don't think I’ve truly gotten over it. There’s nothing I can do to change her mind now it's too late. Family doesn’t always mean blood though. Sure I have some blood family, but I also have my brother who despite how much he annoys me I still love him.” Annabella glanced up at him. “I do think Superman will come around, but you shouldn’t wait around for him to make you feel like you belong. You already have so many people that are ready to accept you, like I said blood doesn’t always equal family.”

“Thanks.” He mumbled his voice a little gruff.

“No problem.” Annabella smiled as she felt his acceptance. “I'm here if you want to talk.”

“What happened to her?” He asked after a moment of silence making annabella let out a small sigh.

“We don’t know, she got away and went into hiding. She hasn’t made an effort to show up again. Now that I know the truth it’ll be harder for her to trick me.”

“Do you ever wish things were different?”

“Sometimes, before, yeah I use to wonder what it would be like if my mom was around. Now though not so much, at least not with her.” Annabella hoped he hadn’t caught what she meant by that.

“Should we go back in?” Superboy asked instead.

“You go ahead I’ll be in a bit.”

Later that night Annabella found herself walking down the steps of the cave. The light of all the monitors glowed at the end of the stairs. Her father didn't question her as she slowly sat in his lap and curled up. One of his arms wrapped around her holding her in place as his other hand continued to type. After a few more minutes he stopped and wrapped his other arm around her.

"You talked to him?" He asked simply.

"Yeah." Annabella sighed.

"How did it go?"

"Good, I think. Definitely better than your conversation with Clark.” Bruce frowned at that.

“What happened to Uncle Clark?” He asked.

“He gets to be Uncle Clark when he stops acting like such an arse.” Annabella said matter of factly.

“So I’m guessing he’s not on the invitation list for your birthday party?” Bruce asked, making Annabella look up at him confused.

“I thought we agreed I wasn't having a party this year?”

“Alfred was hoping you’d change your mind with the fact that you’ve been hanging out with the team.” Bruce looked down at her still noticing her frown.

“I don’t want a party this year. Besides, I thought I couldn’t give away personal information to the team?” Annabella asked now Bruce felt a little guilty.

“If I’d allow this would you let them plan a party?” He asked however the frown never left her face.

“I don't know, I don't really want a party. There’s no point.”

“Sunshine.” Bruce whispered. “Its your birthday its every reason to have a party.”

Annabella wouldn’t look at him and Bruce sighed as he hugged her tightly.

“I thought talking to Superboy was supposed to help you too.” He said as he rubbed her arm.

"This isn't about her." Annabella mumbled though she wondered if her dad caught the lie.

Though yes her mother did ruin her 8th birthday party her 9th had managed to be a success. However by her 10th two of her friends had left for different reasons and though she still managed to get their presents it just wasn't the same without them there. Now that 11 was coming up she didn't want to get her hopes up.

"Is Aunt Debbie still coming?" Annabella asked, hoping to get to a different agreement.

"Yeah they're all coming down. They're due for a visit anyways."

"Can we just go out to dinner? Someplace fun?... And that hasn't been destroyed by a villian."

Bruce chuckled at that. "I'll try and make sure no fun buildings get destroyed in a week."

Annabella smiled and Bruce couldn't help but smile back at her. He'd definitely have to figure out how to get the team to plan a surprise party. He'll have to go on a mission with Barry soon, make sure he brings Wally, he would definitely let something slip. Bruce just hoped they could get it all planned in time. Anything to make sure she'd get the perfect day.

[6rookie-writer0110]

Different earths same parents

Leonard Snart x Barry Allen x Male Reader Son

Request- Coldflash x male reader where the reader is their kid from another earth that gets stuck on earth prime and naturally goes to his dads for help?

Earth - 43

Snart used his ice powers to slow down the vampires. You used your speed to help your father. You start to fight against the blood league they are too many, you grabbed your dad and ran. But Clark is using his speed to catch up to you. Barry arrived and used lighting punch to hit Clark.

You and your fathers went to the hideout.

”Dad! You are okay!” You said with joy.

You hugged Barry and he hugged you back.

”Are you okay?” Barry asked.

”Yeah. We tried to stop them but we couldn't” You said.

”Mick didn't make it now he is one of them,” Snart said.

”I’m sorry. What about the rest of the legends?” Barry said.

”All of them,” Snart said.

The room became silent.

”Y/N you can't stay here. You must go to another earth so you can be safe” Snart said.

”No. I will stay and help, I can do please let me help” You begged.

”Hasn't been long since you for your new powers Ice. You don't know how to control speed and ice. We don't want to lose you and we want you to be safe” Barry said.

Your eyes start to become glossy and you are trying to hold in your tears.

”Y/N, we don't want you to become like them. We have a plan and we will defeat them” Snart said.

”Dad, please let me stay and help,” You said.

Barry took out the portal device.

”Take this and go to another earth where it's safe. We love you and we will always be a family” Barry said.

”We talked about this and it's hard for us too. But we can't lose you. We will rather you have you somewhere else to be safe. Go before they come for us” Snart said.

Tears go down your cheeks. Your fathers hugged you and you hugged them tightly. The blood league has arrived and Barry turned on the device.

”I love you, dad,” You said to them.

Robin tried to jump on you but the portal sucked you in and Robin missed.

”Ready?” Barry asked.

”Always,” Snart said.

”You two are pathetic. You and your husband will join us” Bruce said.

”We will see about that” Snart said.

Barry and Snart start to fight together against the blood league.

-----------

Earth- 1

You fell out of the portal and hit the ground hard. The device your father gave you is broken into little pieces.

”Crap” You mumbled.

People are walking by and they are looking at you. You stand up and picked up all the pieces but you didn't notice the main powers source for the device, is under the car.

You are wearing the flash suit but your colors are silver, blue lining, and the flash symbol is blue also. You pulled down the goggles, your father Snart gave you.

You look around and it's like being home except its not night all the time.

”Excuse me what earth is this?” You asked a stranger.

”Get away from me you hobo,” She said and walked away.

”Rude!” You yelled at her.

You shake your head and start to walk around. Then you used speed to look for your fathers.

You see a building called Star Labs. You walked into the building and start to look around.

You found the lab and you see Barry’s flash suit.

”Red? Why he would wear red. Horrible color” You said to yourself.

Killer Frost and Cisco walked in.

”Hey you shouldn't be here,” Cisco said.

Killer Frost gets ready to use her powers on you.

”Woah, you two are here!” You said really loud.

You walked closer to them but Killer Frost used her powers on you. You hit your head on the wall and you passed out.

”Why did you do that!?” Cisco yelled.

”He could have killed us. And have you looked at his suit. It's like Barry’s suit but with different colors” Killer Frost said.

”Let’s put him in the cell. Somehow he got Barry’s ring” Cisco said.

Your ring is white and Cisco thought you did something to it.

They called Barry and Snart. You start to wake up and you rubbed your head. You stand up and you tried to use your powers.

”You can't use your powers in there,” Barry said.

Your eyes opened wide.

”Dad! It's me Y/N” You said.

”Dad!?” Everyone said together.

”You are my dad too, Snart,” You said.

”Barry, did you change the timeline again?” Snart asked.

”No, I swear I didn't do it this time,” Barry said.

”Actually, I'm from another earth. To be exact I'm from earth 43. I was sent here so I can be safe but my device is broken” You said.

”What is earth 43?” Barry asked.

”On my earth, you and Snart are my fathers. Earth 43 is taken over by the blood league meaning vampires. It's nighttime for thirteen hours and the year only has 13 months. My earth was protected by Justice Titans but not anymore, now they are called blood league. I couldn't help because I can't control my powers which is speed and ice” You said.

”Vampires?” Snart asked.

You nod.

”Why is your suit sliver?” Barry asked.

”I combined your color and dad’s color together,” You said.

”I don't have powers. I use my ice gun” Snart said.

”On my earth, you have powers use the gun for more power. This is my first time leaving my earth and seeing my dad’s doppelgänger is strange” You said.

”I feel you are telling the truth,” Barry said.

Snart looked at Barry.

”What? I have met my doppelgängers before. He wouldn't be wearing the symbol if I didn't believe he is good. Maybe, we should help him train so he can go back to his earth and help his fathers” Barry said.

”I will keep my eye on you, kid. I trust you, so I will go along with it” Snart said.

Barry opened the gate and you walked towards them. He gave you back the ring.

”Did you steal my goggles?” Snart asked

”No. You gave it to me on my earth” You said.

”Mhmm,” Snart said.

”We don't have star labs on my earth,” You said.

”What do you use then?” Barry asked.

”The museum that used to belong to the bat family. Unfortunately, all of them are vampires Bruce, Tim, Jason, Barbara, and Alfred” You said.

”We are friends with them?” Snart asked.

���Yeah, for many years. Have something to eat?” You said.

”Yeah, let's get big belly burger,” Barry said.

”What’s that?” You asked.

”You don't have it on your earth!?” Barry said too loud.

”It was shut down before I was born. Booster Gold has his own restaurant and we used to eat there. He is the owner of Planet Krypton” You said.

”Trust me. You will love Big Belly Burgers” Barry said.

Before going, you had to change clothes. So you have own, Star Labs shirt and regular jeans.

-----------------

Barry and Snart took you to Big Belly Burger, they ordered for you. Once you took a bite of the burger you liked it.

”Slow down, we won't it away from you,” Barry said.

”This pretty good. I thought it would taste bad” You said.

”You should drip the French fries in the milkshake and eat it,” Snart said.

”He loves eating the fries likes that,” Barry said.

”Sounds disgusting,” You said.

”Try it,” Snart said.

You dip the french fries in the milkshake and you are it.

”I never knew you can eat it like this. Do people know about this?” You said.

Barry and Snart couldn't help to smile.

”Everyone knows about it. It's not known in your earth?” Snart asked.

”No. What earth is this and what do you do” You said.

”This is earth- 1. I'm the hero in this earth and he is an anti-hero. It will be one year since we got married and we don't have kids” Barry said.

”What are we back on your earth,” Snart said.

”On my earth, it was the opposite. But dad became good when he met you and you are a hero. Got married and down the timeline, I was born” You said.

”Who is your mother?” Barry asked.

”Actually, I created by your genes and his. To answer your question I don't have a mom” You said.

”Wait, I am a hero?” Snart asked in disbelief.

”And I was a villain?” Barry asked in disbelief also.

”Yeah, you were known as The Chemist. Later on, you and dad joined the Justice Titans on the team was Robin and Batman, Cyborg, Ultra man, wonder women” You said.

”Interesting” Snart said.

Later, they took you to their place and it's different from your earth. They will let you sleep in the guest bedroom. Barry and Snart are alone talking.

”Should we let him, call us dad?” Barry asked.

”I guess. His home has been taken over by vampires. You teach him how to control both of his powers then we send back home” Snart said.

Snart is in bed and Barry gets in bed.

”You are right. Hope everything will work out for him” Barry Said.

Barry and Snart start to kiss each other.

~Next day~

Barry is making breakfast and you sit next to Snart. On your earth, you never ate as a family because they were busy saving people. You are feeling excited to eat breakfast as a family. Barry puts the food on the table and everyone starts to eat.

”This is really good,” You said.

You take big bites of the waffles.

”They don't make breakfast for you?” Barry asked.

”When I was a kid. But when I got older, I would eat alone because you and dad were busy saving people” You said.

They felt bad for you.

--------------

At Star Labs, Cisco is working on to upgrade your suit. Barry is helping you train. They tracked your speed now it's time for the next part.

”You are overthinking everything. Stop it” Snart said.

”I will try,” You said.

You start to run again, Barry starts to run after you and he used electrokinesis to hit you. You start to dodge it. You want to use ice and your hands start to turn crystal ice and you tried to combine with lighting but you, Snart used his gun at you. And you fell down and you are breathing hard and you are still lying down.

”Don’t ever assume the other opponents won't attack you or fight fair” Snart said.

”Okay, dad,” You said.

All-day they have been helping you train. Little by little you start to improve and they are happy for you.

-----------

Days go by fast, Barry wanted to have a family night, but playing board games. Barry and Snart are getting attached to you. Every day they have been helping you train.

”What game we will play tonight?” You asked.

”Y/N, can you play poker?” Snart asked.

”No” You lied.

”Let’s play,” Snart said.

Barry knows what Snart is doing.

The first two games you lost but on the third game, you won.

”Thought you didn't know how to play,” Snart said.

”You taught me how to play when I was twelve. Once you taught me how to escape from handcuffs” You said.

”That is something I would teach my son, Y/N,” Snart said and he smiled.

Later, Barry made hot cocoa. Barry noticed how you and Snart like to eat the marshmallows first then put more in the cup.

Snart noticed how sometimes, you would something with sarcasm.

He noticed how you sit like him. Both Barry and Snart noticed how you are almost like them.

-------------

”He has to go back home. This isn't his earth, you and Barry are getting too attached to him” Cisco said.

”Y/N is sweet and we all like him. But we have to help his dads on his earth. The device is ready and he can leave now” Caitlin said.

”I will miss him. We talked about starting a family and we got the chance when Y/N, we felt happy” Barry said.

”You have to tell them,” Cisco said.

You are with Snart in the other room.

”Dad, look I got the same jacket like dad. I never had a jacket like this before. What do you think? Pretty cool, right” You said.

”It was time for our son to improve his style,” Snart said.

”That’s nice. Y/N it's time for you to go home, the device is fixed” Barry said.

”Oh okay,” You said.

”But we will go with your earth to help you defeat the vampires,” Barry said.

”That means a lot to me,” You said.

Cisco turned on the device and everyone went through the portal. You used your flash ring to put on your suit.

The city is halfway destroyed, it's nighttime again. While walking you all noticed the blood league.

”Dad!?” You yelled.

Your real dads, Barry and Snart are vampires.

”You came back with more victims. Good job, Y/N. Now you can be like us” Vampire Barry said.

Tears go down your face. He was going to attack you but Killer Frost used her powers to attack him. Your body froze and you didn't move an inch.

All of them start to fight with the blood leagues. You dropped to your knees and you start to cry.

Your ex-boyfriend Jason Todd jumped on top of you. But you didn't attack back, he was going to bite you.

”Now we can be together again,” Jason said.

He opened his mouth wide and he is among for your neck. But Snart used his gun to attack Jason. Then Snart pulled you up.

”They are gone. Don't become like them, your fathers would have told you to fight back. No matter what, they will always want you to fight back. Tell me, would they let you give up?” Snart said.

You wiped your tears away.

”No! They would tell me to fight back” You said.

”Good. Now we fight” Snart said.

You nod. He let's go of you then you put on the goggles and you are ready to fight.

You used all your strength to fight back, it's not easy because they are stronger than you.

Now your suit is ruined and half of your mask is ripped apart. You are fighting against your ex-boyfriend.

”I won't become like you!” You yelled at the vampires.

”You are our son, Y/N. We can be together now forever don't be afraid” Vampire Barry said.

You shake your head no.

”No. My fathers wouldn't tell me to give up” You said.

”You are not alone, Y/N,” Killer Frost said.

”I’m sorry but this is my battle,” You said.

You turned on the device and set it to earth-1. You used speed to push them through the portal and you turned it off.

”You are truly an idiot,” Jason said.

”Let’s dance,” You said.

Barry and the others are back in earth-1.

”We have to go back and save him,” Barey said.

Cisco tried to use his powers.

”What’s going on?” Snart asked.

Cisco tries again.

”I'm trying,” Cisco said.

”Hurry up, Y/N needs us,” Barry said.

Cisco tried harder and the portal opened and they went through.

They see you passed out, Barry grabbed you and brought you back to earth-1.

-------------

You start to wake up and you are in the medical room. You start to touch yourself, you thought you were dead.

”Y/N are you okay?” Snart asked.

”Yeah. Oh my God, am I a vampire!?” You yelled.

You start to touch your neck then your teeth.

”What happened?” Barry asked.

”I started to fight everyone but it was too many. Next thing I know I got hit on the head now I'm here” You said.

Snart and Barry hugged you.

”You will stay with us. Your earth is not like before and we don't want you to be a vampire. Y/N do you want to stay with us?” Snart said.

You smiled.

”Yeah, I will stay. So that means I can keep you and him, dad?” You said.

”Of course. Now you can be apart of my team the Rogues” Snart said.

”Awesome! Who else is on the team?” You said.

”No, Y/N will not join the Rogues” Barry said.

”Relax, it was a joke. Now, we celebrate that Y/N will stay with us” Snart said.

You kept smiling.

~weeks later~

Barry and Snart bought a house with more space. They don't treat you differently and they did give rules to follow. You still feel sad that you couldn't save your home and family.

”What’s wrong?” Snart asked.

”I feel bad that I couldn't save my home and the people I loved,” You said.

He puts his arm around your shoulders.

”Y/N, there are moments you can't save everyone. We will try to change the timeline but it will drive us crazy and everything will change for the worse or moments we will never experience” Snart said.

You looked at him then looked away.

”You are right,” You said in a low voice.

”Come, we will play laser tag with the others. We will be on teams and no one will stop us” Snart said and you smiled.

”That’s great dad,” You said.

You and Snart went to the arcade and met up with the others.

[that-shamrock-vibe]

TV Review: Crisis on Infinite Earths (Spoilers)

Part Two: Batwoman

Spoiler Warning: I am posting this review the day after the episode airs in the U.S. so if you haven’t yet seen the episode or are waiting to watch the crossover all in on, don’t read on until you have.

Overview:

I was right, and I’m so annoyed they couldn’t keep the high momentum of the first episode here. Where Part One felt like an epic and grand high-stakes crossover opener, Part Two feels more like the typical and somewhat formulaic Arrowverse episode. The problem with that is, it’s supposed to be both! I don’t quite get how the episode that had the most elements I was looking forward to fizzled this much.

But now with the true enemy finally revealing himself, and the promise of more Paragons to find, can Crisis save itself while it destroys the Multiverse?

Avenging the Fallen:

So the episode opens with the three main women of the Arrowverse, Kara, Sara and Kate, drinking in memory of Oliver. I have to say, I know this is a Batwoman episode and these three women in particular do often preach girl power and all that, but the fact Ray isn’t there at least does just make it seem like they wanted this girl power moment, and as Kate said, the Multiverse is still in danger.

As I mentioned when talking about Batwoman in my Elseworlds review, there were problems that fortunately have been fixed by Batwoman the TV series mostly, I still don’t like the fact she’s not a red head, I still don’t like how similar Ruby Rose and Erin Richards look because it’s distracting to me. Even a choppy bob style as Kate has in the comics would differentiate the two more for me.

That being said, Ruby Rose sold the dry cynical humour here as she does in her own series. I loved how she left the drink here but later wished she hadn’t, in that same scene when the Monitor reveals Batman’s secret identity how she demands discretion from the team was funny, Kara finding Earth-99 Luke Fox attractive and Kate finding it weird I thought was hilarious and Ruby Rose sold that very well for me.

Also, for all Kara’s mourning about her lost planet, there was no confirmation on where Alex, Brainy, J’onn, Nia, Kelly or Lena were after the climax of Part One. I know Brainy and I think J’onn are in future parts of this crossover but it would have been good for a side comment saying where they are.

Speaking of mourning, my god Mia goes hard here. It’s funny because in last week’s episode of Arrow, Oliver was all for Diggle finding a way to get Mia and William back to 2040, yet Mia is still around and making understandably emotion-driven but drastic decisions and both Barry and Sara, who are supposed to be older, wiser and more level-headed particularly in this area, are going along with it.

Barry especially, I believe, feels that if he can help Oliver cheat his fate then maybe he can as well considering that Iris has now got the idea that with The Monitor being wrong about how Oliver died maybe Barry won’t die either, that’s just stupid to give someone who has already accepted his fate and has been known to make the stupidest decisions going (Flashpoint) when he feels he can change it. 

Mia decides to use a Lazarus Pit to resurrect Oliver and, like I said, both Barry and Sara agree. Sara does need some convincing I grant you and Caity Lotz does sell that she is never fully on-board with the idea, and why would she be because she knows first hand what the pits do.

I did appreciate the Nyssa mention, I just wish she had been their guide to the pit on Earth-18, instead we get a mini-fight between Mia, Sara and an unaltered Jonah Hex.

I did kind of guess Hex would appear as soon as the location was revealed as North Dakota, and to be fair I didn’t really see where Jonah Hex would fit into this crossover, so I am glad they found a space for him.

I also like that Constantine has something to do finally, because I am tired of just seeing Sara and Ray, as much as I love Sara and tolerate Ray, it’s called Legends of Tomorrow and currently I think has the biggest main cast out of these shows...so why am I being drip-fed Legends with now the addition of Constantine and Mick...again I do enjoy both of them but give me the god damn team.

Barry and Constantine bring Oliver to the Lazarus Pit and, as expected, Oliver emerges as an out of control rage monster that Stephen Amell does not sell quite as well as Caity Lotz or Willa Holland previously have.

I guessed Oliver would somehow be brought back, because while the Arrowverse execs try to say “We killed him off in part one to show no one is safe”, it was an eye-roll for me because you’re not going to kill the original main star of the Arrowverse in the first part.

My only issue with it is it happened so quickly, there was no time really to miss him because he was dead at the end of part one and suddenly they’re talking about bringing him back.

Sara had an entire season between death and resurrection and Thea’s resurrection came with great sacrifice on Oliver’s part joining the League of Assassins. Here, we had Constantine saying that the antimatter was making him lose his magic so he couldn’t bring back Oliver’s soul like he did for Sara, which only makes me wonder why they’re wasting time trying to bring someone back rather than stopping existence from dying.

Paragon Pursuit - Bat of the Future:

Okay so, apparently The Monitor has recently discovered seven Paragons across the Multiverse that can come together to defeat the Anti-Monitor. He knows this from retrieving the Book of Destiny from the timeline which was the McGuffin in Elseworlds last year.

Fortunately four of these paragons are known to The Monitor, the Paragon of Hope is Kara Zor-El and the Paragon of Destiny is Sara Lance. I got why this worked because Supergirl’s main brand is all about hope and she’s from a parallel world while Sara is of Earth-1 tying into the fact these seven Paragons are spread across the multiverse.

The Monitor tells the team that two more Paragons are to be found on different Earths, the first is the Bat of the Future on Earth-99 which Mar-Novu name drops as Bruce Wayne, much to Ray’s surprise and Kate’s annoyance.

Again I am actually enjoying Brandon Routh in this crossover, and cannot understand why he isn’t at this level on his own show.

Kate and Kara go to Earth-99 where they come across a dilapidated Wayne Manor, which looks more dishevelled than the one from the DCEU, and meet Earth-99 Luke Fox...who I had to double-take to ensure it was in fact Camrus Johnson partly because of how different he looks not geeked up and also because he is the only other main character of Batwoman to appear in this Batwoman episode.

Now I get that none of the other supporting players are vigilantes at this point, but not even Earth-1 Luke Fox making an appearance is slightly unfair, and you could argue that during Invasion! None of Supergirl’s supporting players were involved, but Supergirl still had an episode in that week which featured its main cast.

Again also Kate’s reaction to Kara finding this Luke attractive was probably my favourite moment in the episode.

Once forcing their way inside, Kate and Kara meet Earth-99 Batman, Mr. Kevin Conroy. I was so looking forward to seeing this veteran Batman voice actor in live-action and when you don’t see him talking, he sounds a lot like Batman of the DCAU, the only problem is I was promised Kingdom Come Batman and didn’t really get that.

I don’t know Kingdom Come that well but I thought Batman was supposed to be the main force of good left in the world, yet not only is he killing his rogues as displayed in his trophy case, including a Riddler cane which I also own, but he also killed Superman.

It’s at this point that Kate and Kara realise that this Batman is not the Paragon of Courage they were sent to retrieve and at that point Batman turns on Supergirl apparently hating Kryptonians.

Now this is where it gets interesting because before this, there is actually some good character moments for Bruce and Kate where Bruce tries to make Kate see that where he is in his mindset is where she should be, not trusting anyone, not believing in anything, just becoming the night basically.

It echoes similarly to what Lex Luthor tried to install in Lena last season which eventually worked as we know and it apparently maybe worked here because, even though Kate saved Kara from her doppleganger cousin, she still kept that Kryptonite wrist strap of his...what does she plan on doing?

Anyway before the Kryptonite reveal, we see Kate and Kara return to base where they tell The Monitor they failed retrieving the Paragon, but The Monitor reveals that the Bat of the Future and the Paragon of Courage is in fact Kate herself.

I don’t know how to feel about this, I love the fact Batwoman is being spotlighted even though she is the new girl, however, it does seem like the only reason she is the Paragon is because this is her show.

Also to have two Paragons from the same Earth? Not exactly far spread out.

Paragon Pursuit - Reign of the Supermen:

While Kate and Kara are on Earth-99, Earth 38′s Clark and Lois, and Iris for some reason, scourer the Multiverse for the Paragon of Truth, which is revealed to be a Superman...but which Superman.

Well just before they head off a spanner is thrown into the works in the form of Earth-38s Lex Luthor. We knew Jon Cryer would be back, I thought he would have returned in the Supergirl episode but we also see at least three other versions of Superman here so why not.

Anyway Lex steals the Book of Destiny because the Monitor apparently brought him back to be duped by the supervillain, shocker, and Lex travels the Multiverse killing off Supermen.

Clark, Lois and Iris first arrive on Earth-75 where they are too late because Earth-38 Lex has already killed this version of Superman who lies dead on the big screen with his Lois mourning the loss.

Their second attempt sees them arrive on Earth-167, which is the vaguest Easter-Egg reference going as it refers to Smallville co-producer Al Gough’s year of birth 1967...

When Tom Welling said he and Erica Durance were only in one scene they weren’t kidding, however I loved it. I am a massive Smallville fan, it was my proper Superman introduction, these versions of Clark and Lois are my Clark and Lois and that’s not going to change.

The decision for Clark not to have powers here is a weird one because they highlighted the fact that the Smallville Comics which followed the TV series would count as canon, yet aside from returning to the Kent Farm nothing we learn about Clark and Lois here was mentioned in the comics.

Also Clark and Lois have daughters, I’m not sure who they’re supposed to be but I’ve only ever known them to have a son...Jonathan...and since when did all the Supermen need to be Superdaddies anyway?

Anyway Earth-38 Lex shows up and Clark has the great confusion of wondering why Jon Cryer doesn’t look like Michael Rosenbaum, it is again sad that Rosenbaum didn’t reprise the role, but to have a Lex Luthor going up against multiple Supermen was still quite cool.

When Clark reveals he gave up his powers, most likely to be a father and family man, it did just seem like a cheat way for the writers to say “Yeah we have Smallville’s Clark Kent, but he won’t be part of the action”. Which as a Smallville fan is painful because I wanted to see Tom Welling in the tights, flights and action!

Also once Lex and the heroes disappear, Smallville’s Lois arrives and I have to say, she looks exactly the same as she did back in 2011 but different to how she looks as Alura Zor-El. Maybe it’s the choice of farm clothes as opposed to regal dresses but this is Lois Lane I had through my teen years, everything from the fashion to the hair, to the voice. I wasn’t crazy about the laugh because it seemed a bit forced, but she called him Smallville straight after and spoke in her high-energised way so I was happy.

The final stop was on Earth-96 which is a reference to the year the Kingdom Come storyline came out, it was confirmed that Brandon Routh would be Kingdom Come Superman but also the version of Superman from 2006 Superman Returns which Routh starred in.

We meet, or are reacquainted with,Routh’s version of Clark Kent. I have to admit I never much cared for Superman Returns, possibly because Smallville was on at the time and that version had already won me over. But I do know that Brandon Routh drew a lot of inspiration from Christopher Reeves and his portrayal of the character and you can clearly see that in both his fashion and acting.

I want to say it’s sad to see that pretty much all of Superman’s supporting staff at the Daily Planet are dead, Sam Huntington in my opinion was a decent Jimmy Olsen, but if this was Smallville’s Daily Planet staff all killed I’d be distraught.

Again I am comparing a lot but they are literally scenes apart from each other here.

Anyway, just as it’s confirmed that Brandon Routh’s Superman is the Paragon of Truth, Lex Luthor appears and decides he’s fed up with killing Supermen...we’ve only seen him kill one but there you go, and decides to turn Kingdom Come Superman against Earth-38 Superman in order for his now puppet to kill the other one.

I have to say, this was another weak battle sequence, I know it’s really CGI with two Supermen flying around, but neither Brandon Routh or Tyler Hoechlin have really sold flying as Superman to me that well anyway.

Lois finally does something and knocks Lex unconscious while she and Iris, who I cannot understand why she even came along at all, try to use the Book of Destiny to fix Kingdom Come Superman.

Eventually Lois gets through to KCS by appealing to his love for humanity and for his lost Lois. This breaks him free of the book’s control just in time before he snaps Earth-38 Superman’s neck.

With Lex detained, the heroes all return to base where they set up a machine to search for the rest of the Paragons. 

Harbinger’s Headache:

This sounds stupid but genuinely is what happens, since the start of the episode when Mar-Novu reveals the Book of Destiny, Harbinger starts to get headaches, this does alert her to the fact Lex Luthor is stealing the book but also puts her in the pathway of the Anti-Monitor.

Yes we finally see the big bad of the crossover in all his...glory? He looks ridiculous! His concept artwork does make him look like Oscar Isaac’s Apocalypse but the actual thing we get just looks ugly.

I will give a minor positive and say it is better to see him in the show than he looks on the promotional images because I get the feeling lighting is not this guy’s friend and we meet him in what looks like the hallway of S.T.A.R. Labs.

Mick Rory, Baby Whisperer:

Again, this sounds stupid, but I wanted to highlight this for a couple of reasons and to spotlight Legends of Tomorrow because it doesn’t look like this crossover is doing that.

Firstly, this Mick Rory isn’t our Mick Rory, this is in fact the Mick Rory of Earth-74...why is it called Earth-74? I don’t know because originally there were only supposed to be 52 Earths, then Earth-X came about and now we have Earth-167 so I’m making my peace with them making it up as they go along.

Anyway, Dominic Purcell has grown on me since he was first introduced on The Flash. I think once you accept the fact that DC’s Legends of Tomorrow is essentially a piss-take because that is what it’s become then you accept why the characters do what they do, and not only turning a Flash rogue into a hero/legend is understood but also having him be a writer, have a rat as a pet and be good with babies is also understood.

We see that Earth-74 has a Waverider and did have its own version of the Legends before they all disbanded, Mick has taken command of the Waverider as seemingly his home where he is a struggling writer and his only companion is the Waverider’s A.I. Leonard...Wentworth Miller is back! As a disembodied voice, I would have liked to have at least seen his floating blue head but no we get the voice which is fine by me to be honest.

Once Harbinger commandeers the Waverider ad brings it to Earth-1 with Mick on board, he seemingly becomes the only person on board who Jonathan won’t cry for...not his mum, not his dad, not his aunt...a gun wielding alcoholic hot-head...great choice kid.

It is the lowest form of comedy side-story going but it is still nice to see them at least attempt to include the Legends and particularly Wentworth Miller in some form.

Easter-Eggs:

Superman III:

Alright so this is a clever throwback as this version of Superman Brandon Routh is portraying may be repackaged as Kingdom Come Superman, but he is also the same Superman Routh portrayed in 2006′s Superman Returns, who in turn is the same Superman Christopher Reeve played during the 80s, one movie Reeves was in was Superman III where Superman’s human and Kryptonian sides physically fought each other.

This plot point has also been done in Smallville briefly during the opening episode of Season 4 but not to the same degree as here or Superman III.

Smallville:

So many Smallville Easter-Eggs in one small scene, the first was the mention of Smallville’s Lex Luthor being the President of the United States of America. In a vision of the future Lex Luthor was indeed president and during the flashforward epilogue of the Smallville finalé he was running for president.

I also appreciated the time joke that Lois made when she said that it’s taken about a decade for Clark to “make a funny”. In real-time it has been almost a decade since Smallville finished as it was 2011, whereas now it is 2019.

Captain Cold:

Some things never change and whether he’s a doppleganger of the original or an A.I. version of the man, Wentworth Miller’s charm oozes out.

When Harbinger arrives on the Earth-47 Waverider, she notes that she is aware of who the A.I. is and he responds with his classic line “Always pleased to meet a fan”, this he has said a couple of times firstly in Season 1 of The Flash and then again with the Legends.

This was a great episode on reflection but in terms of ramping up the drama and grandeur of the crossover it did need work. Hopefully it’s only a minor bump before tonight’s third part, which promises a sizeable cliffhanger before the Christmas break.

So that’s my review of Crisis on Infinite Earths: Batwoman, what did you guys think? Post your comments and check out more DC TV Reviews as well as other TV Reviews and posts.

[terresdebrumestories]

Clark Kent, of Krypton - 2/4: Shadow

FANDOM: DC’s cinematic universe. RATING: Mature. WORDCOUNT: 20 640 (Fic total: ~98k words) PAIRING(S): Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne (main focus is on Clark, though). CHARACTER(S): Kal-El | Clark Kent, Bruce Wayne, Jor-El, Lara Lor-Van, Kara Zor-El, Zor-El, Martha Kent, Alfred Pennyworth, Diana Prince, Barry Allen, Arthur Curry, Victor Stone, John Stewart, J’onn J’onzz, plus a quick cameo by Lois Lane. GENRE: Alternate Universe (canon divergence), transition fic with romance. TRIGGER WARNING(S): A great deal of anxiety and self loathing, especially in parts one and two. Some descriptions are heavily inspired by my experience of dysphoria-induced dissociation. SUMMARY: Batman crashes on Krypton a few days before the Turn of the Year celebrations and Kal-El's life takes a sharp turn to the left, on a path that will ultimately lead him to becoming Clark Kent.

OTHER CHAPTERS: [I. Kal-El] [III. Superman] [IV. Clark Kent] ALSO AVAILABLE: [On AO3] [On Dreamwidth]

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Thank you, still, to @stuvyx for the wonderful illustrations and to @susiecarter for the beta :D

“Can you see him?”

Shadow leans a little harder on his hands, peering over the curve of the Citadel dome to survey one of several guest quarters’ balconies. In the sky, Krypton’s moons shine crimson over the lands, their light like blood spread over the planes of the jagged mountains and the pale stone of the Citadel, the balconies below painted in a burgundy darker than even Shadow’s suit.

“Not yet,” he tells Support, his own voice too loud in the confines of his helmet. “Maybe he’s just not in the mood to come out tonight.”

“You would know better than me,” Kara replies, slipping out of her more professional tones. “I am not his friend.”

The truth is, neither is Shadow. He may have brought Batman out of his destroyed spacecraft and into the Els’ residence, but they have not talked to one another—nor, indeed had any contact at all—since that fateful winter day. It is easy for Shadow to remember it: the bitter cold biting at the tips of his fingers after the suit had to divert power away from temperature regulation for a while. The ache in his limbs even as he set dreams of his bed aside and decided to push himself through another rescue. The burning heat of flames licking at his face once he pulled Batman out of his destroyed spacecraft and willed his helmet off to examine the man’s wounds. Batman, on the other hand, was unconscious for the whole process, and kept under for over a day after his rescue. What little connection exists between him and Shadow is one-sided, at best.

Not that Shadow has not been paying attention to the shipwrecked man. He has kept a close ear to the gossip spread about him, just in case curiosity should have turned into resentment. In the end, though, the ever-faster advance of the Melokariel Proposition has kept most of El—and Shadow—far too busy to worry about a lone alien who does not even have the decency to look different from regular Kryptonians. This, of course, proved to be an oversight once Batman, smarter than most Kryptonians and in a far better position to notice the abnormalities in the Principality’s political proceedings, started noticing something was amiss and taking an interest in the situation.

As it is, though, there is nothing Shadow can do about it but be wary of Batman’s involvement. It is rumored that Pol Vea-Ry, the Wise Queen of Warriors, will call for another vote on the matter soon; and, like Kara, Shadow is inclined to agree with those who speculate that Tsiahm-Lo will vote with her...and with two Council members out of five in favor, it is likely that those in El who would rather not see the project come to fruition will continue on the same road they were already taking, only at a harder pace than before. There will be many families reaching for the colonies in the months to come, and more militia—Ellon or otherwise—doing everything they can to prevent that. There is blood on the walls of the Citadel. Some of it, Shadow helped put there. More often than not, though, he failed to save those who spilled it, and in the urgency of the situation, Batman, like many of the pettier offenders Shadow used to worry about in the beginning, had to fall low on the list of priorities.

Until, that is, it was discovered that the alien has had dealings with the Green Lanterns.

“There he comes,” Shadow says.

Not a moment too soon, either. The suit is strong enough to help with most physical tasks Shadow has to perform, but sticking to the wall like an overgrown spider requires a lot of muscle control, and the effort never fails to leave Shadow stiff and uncomfortable.

“Is he alone?”

Shadow waits until Batman crosses the balcony and braces his arms against the railing, gazing over the outer city and the mountains beyond, before he answers in the affirmative.

“Good,” Kara says. Then, in a grumble: “I wish the repairs on my handscreen weren't taking so long. I hate being unable to see what is going on on your end.”

“I’d offer to describe everything,” Shadow retorts as he braces himself for a jump, “but I’m afraid that would make me sound a tad more insane than I’d like to appear.”

He smirks when Kara snorts. Then he pushes against the Citadel wall and, in a small shower of everlasting concrete, drops a dozen feet downwards. He can almost hear Kara’s eyes roll when he puts the elasticity of his suit to good use and sticks the landing with very little impact to his joints. Vain, he realizes, but still much faster than crawling downward—and much more dignified too.

“I was wondering if you’d show yourself,” Batman says, quiet and unsurprised, as Shadow rises to his feet.

And here Kara thought Shadow enjoyed dramatics.

He takes a step closer to Batman, careful to remain in the part of the balcony that can’t be seen from the inside, and does not put much effort in disguising his amusement when he speaks.

“You could have said something,” he replies, adopting the grammatical forms of a middle-class man addressing an equal.

He rolls his eyes when Batman chooses stony silence over even a simple shrug. Part of Shadow wants to wait the man out, but he decides to be the bigger masked creature and ask:

“Do you know who I am?”

“I’ve heard of you.”

Batman falls into silence again. Under his helmet, Shadow's mouth opens in disbelief. Theatrics can be useful, he will admit to that much, especially where civilians are concerned. That Batman would use the same tactics on him, though? It rankles more than Shadow would have anticipated, and his shoulders stiffen in response. He manages to suppress a scoff at the last second, and then goes to stand at the railing, careful to stay out of view from the room, just in case.

Kal-El, of course, would shrink from such a chilly welcome and sink into himself. Shadow knows he cannot afford to let himself be defeated so easily, though, and so he ignores both Batman’s reservation and Kara’s comment—“How in Rao’s name did you of all people manage to draw this man into a conversation?”—before he reaches into his pocket and produces the Green Lanterns’ bracelet.

“I think this is yours,” he tells Batman.

He does not change his tone—casual, but polite. A simple conversation between strangers of equal ranking, though technically it is something of a demotion for Batman; but the other man still gives him a sharp look before he takes his bracelet back. His expression, mostly unchanged, seems grimmer than usual but not outright hostile, and Shadow waits the silence out, solid as a stone and patient as the sun. Shadow is not a petty creature—cannot afford to be—but he cannot be the only one to make a move here.

“The Els say you brought me here.”

This is not the reaction Shadow was hoping for, but it is not rejection, either, and so he shrugs as he says, “I thought this would be where you’d have the best chance of survival...if any. Would you rather I’d left you where I found you?”

“How did you know they would take me in?”

“Gods, he is starting to remind me of Queen Ra-Ul,” Kara sighs in Shadow’s ears.

It is not a compliment.

“The Prince and his wife are well known for their devotion to Rao,” Shadow says, ignoring Kara's comment. “Assuming they would help you didn’t seem like that big a leap of faith.”

It is difficult to say whether Batman means for his scoff to go unnoticed or not, but Shadow hears it either way. He knows better than to react to it, though, and says instead:

“I would have had more reservations, if I’d known you were working with one of Krypton’s oldest and most prominent enemies.”

The only entities Krypton—especially its upper classes—resents more than the Green Lanterns are Feyar, Paom, and Koahu: three planets who formed an alliance to fight their way free of Kryptonian dominion long before the Lanterns were ever a dream. Still, fourth on the list of mortal enemies of your host planet is nothing to scoff at, and Shadow knows for a fact that Batman is smart enough to realize that.

“I knew some people would be unhappy about the connection,” Batman says. “I did not expect you to be one of them.”

“Do you always evade questions, or are you just giving me special treatment?”

“I like to keep my options open.”

On the other end of the line, Kara groans. Shadow does not react in any way that will be obvious to Batman, but he is rather inclined to agree. He rolls his eyes again, but does not quite manage to prevent his shoulders from tightening a fraction. He had been expecting some evasion on Batman’s part. He would have attempted the same if their positions were reversed. But what Batman is doing now is starting to verge on sabotage, and neither Shadow nor Kara—nor, he suspects, Batman himself—have time to waste on this particular dance.

“I’m not here to antagonize you,” he tells Batman, pausing to give him the time to absorb the new word. “You’re right, I work with the Lanterns too. Or I work with people who work with them, to be precise. I do still need to know what you’re doing here.”

“I’m not a spy,” Batman says.

“’That’s what a spy’d say’,” Kara says in an exaggerated version of Shadow’s more casual grammar, her voice dropping a half-octave at least.

Under the helmet, Shadow rolls his eyes.

“That, I can believe,” he says, ignoring the slap of what he assumes is Kara’s hand hitting her forehead. “You have still been asking too many questions about the Melokariel Proposition, and you've been seen in places you shouldn’t have been visiting.”

Batman has also been seen leaving his rooms at night, via this very balcony. Sending Kryo to spy on him was not an easy decision to make, and a sliver of Kal’s shame pricks at Shadow’s conscience, but he pushes it aside. The literary association between him and The Shadow may not have been his choice, but he does take the role seriously, and one whose mission it is to protect an entire realm cannot afford to let even friendship stop them.

“Maybe you don’t care about the consequences that could have for the House of El—”

“No one would suspect them of colluding with me,” Batman cuts in with a slight snap to his voice. “Everyone at court knows the only one of them who will spend any time with me is a timid simpleton. They will assume he couldn’t have guessed anything, and they will be right.”

Batman has gone back to higher-class inflections for this last sentence, the sudden distance he puts between himself and Shadow a stark reminder of Kal’s experiences at court, and it takes more effort than it usually would to ignore the wound and remain Shadow.

“Be that as it may,” Shadow says, relieved to hear no tightness in his voice, “I need—”

“Kal!” Kara all but shouts at him, “say something, for Vohc’s sake! You are not a simpleton!”

“The Els have been helpful, in their way,” Shadow tells Batman without acknowledging his cousin, “and considering their potential replacements, it’s in the Principality’s best interest that they stay in power, at least for the moment.”

“If you say so,” Batman says.

His face has not changed, but Shadow has heard Batman’s voice enough to recognize the smirk in his tone. It gives the impression of something more behind the word, some sort of double meaning, almost suggestive. Shadow’s face heats up beneath his helmet, and he finds himself abruptly glad that Batman cannot see him. Not that it does him any good, as his blush is perfectly audible when he answers:

“Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not what’s happening here.”

“If you say so,” Batman repeats, mild and unconcerned.

“That,” Kara sighs into her communicator, “was pathetic.”

Shadow is not the type of creature whose shoulders hunch at the slightest provocation, but that does not mean he disagrees with his cousin’s words. It is hardly a surprise that he lost the upper hand several questions ago. He knew, after all, that this was Batman’s aim, and allowed the conversation to progress anyway because he felt cooperation would be a better way to proceed...and also, in large part, because he thought Batman would reciprocate. He did not, though, and now Shadow realizes he will need to pry if he wants to leave this conversation with any clear information.

The problem being, of course, that he has no idea how to do that.

Shadow was never meant to interrogate anyone, especially not someone who evidently knows his way around inconvenient questions. Militia men, for the most part, expect brute force, because this is what they were trained against, which makes it easy to trick them with more subtle tactics. And in any case, half of the time either Kara or Kal can glean more precise information through their superiors, anyway. Interrogating Batman, though, let alone in a meaningful way? Shadow never learned how to do that. At first, it was naivety. Shadow once thought the Militia members who hurt citizens during arrests, or were unnecessarily violent with them, were rogue elements, and that bringing them to justice with sufficiently obvious proof would be enough to shatter what he believed was inertia on their superiors’ parts. This happened often in the beginning, hope holding out against all else, even proof at times. But as time went on, it became apparent El’s police forces—and, later, the Council’s Militia—did not focus on criminals with nearly as much zeal as they did on reminding the whole of El that the Wise Council loved them, protected them, and deserved nothing less than their utter respect and total obedience. Eventually, Shadow saw enough of these visits—often reasonably scheduled, but just as often happening late at night, or other times when citizens would not have expected to be visited.

One day, one such house call ended with the police dragging an entire family away from their home in the middle of the night, pushing them all into an aircraft, and spiriting them away over the mountains. Shadow stood and watched as it happened, a weight like stones in his guts telling him he ought to intervene. The younger, more hopeful part of him—the one that still believed the way the members of the court rejected the lower classes’ grammatical forms of Ellon so completely as to make them almost into a foreign language had to be a bug rather than a feature—told him to wait. Wait, make sure. Trust that things would turn out all right. But then a week passed. The family did not come back. One week became two, became three, and if would have taken many more to convince Shadow if Queen Oa Ni-Col—Kara’s mother, whose independence of thought and outspoken nature had always been noted at court—had not made the unexpected decision to overcome a debilitating fear of heights in order to fling herself off her bedroom balcony into the mountains, hundreds of feet below.

“Batman,” Shadow tries again, “I realize you don’t care about the Els. That’s your right. But your actions will have an impact on more than just them if you’re not careful, and I won’t be able to mitigate the consequences of you being caught if I don’t know what you’re doing.”

Shadow’s voice is pitched lower than Kal’s. It rings clearer, too. This time it rises on the last few words though, pleading bleeding in at the edges, and for a moment Shadow almost fears he is about to be unmasked. What happens instead is a long silence before Batman eventually nods. Shadow has practice hiding his relief by now, and so his body language does not change. But the rush is still there, and it takes him a moment to realize Batman is staring at his helmet with almost frightening intensity.

He has rarely been this glad for the two-way mirror effect of his visor.

“I am not here to hurt anyone,” Batman says, sounding as if it is costing him some effort to reveal even that much. “But there is something strange about the Melokariel Proposition.” He pauses and then, even more reluctantly than before, finishes: “Whatever it is about.”

“He’s been investigating all this time and he does not know what it would do?” Kara exclaims on her end of the line. “What a—Kal, you have to keep him off the field!”

Shadow tends to agree, but to tell her so would be to reveal her to Batman, and he would rather avoid that as long as possible. The fewer people who know Shadow does not work alone, the safer Kara will stay.

“There is,” Shadow tells Batman, “and I’ll explain as soon as I can. I don’t have the time for it tonight—there are other things I need to do—but I’ll explain. All I ask in exchange is that you stay inside tonight, and wait for my instructions.”

“Does he look like he intends to cooperate?”

Batman’s shoulders have tightened. His neck stiffens and, by his side, the fingers of his right hand clench together. Shadow can’t tell Kara as much, but he suspects she has a fairly good idea as to the answer anyway. It is not, after all, that surprising. Batman has been too invested in this research, is too strong-willed to give up when someone asks him to. And if these were not indications enough, there is the matter of his obvious disdain for and disappointment with Kal-El’s lack of interest in politics. None of that speaks of Batman being able to let go of the topic.

Besides, Shadow thinks in a surprisingly detached, distant way, if even Batman does not think twice about Kal-El’s lack of knowledge after spending such an extended amount of time with him, no one else will. It is reassuring information to have, even if it will do nothing but fan the flames of Kal’s shame.

None of that, of course, makes the matter of Batman’s involvement with Krypton’s political issues any less of a problem...or a mystery.

“I mean it,” Shadow insists, hoping despite an increasingly loud sense of resignation that Batman will decide to surprise everyone and actually cooperate. “You don’t know enough about Krypton or the Proposition for this to end with anything other than you dead in a ditch.”

That is, after all, where Shadow would have ended up more than once, if not for the suit and Kara’s support. Batman, however, does not seem all that disposed to see it, and Shadow restrains himself from sighing. He steps onto the balcony railing instead, orders the suit to shift into its gliding form and, as soon as the batons on his back have melted into wings, jumps down and to the right, as if aiming for the more populous areas of the outer city.

“It is a good thing we never made you into a politician,” Kara says. “That went terribly.”

“I noticed, thank you,” Shadow says, the part of him that still belongs to Kal even while in the suit shriveling with humiliation.

“You are welcome. There is no improvement without feedback.”

Kal does not reply to that, too focused on his second-least-favorite part of gliding in the suit: the landing. The maneuver is tricky enough when he aims for a horizontal surface and has enough room to use a proper parachute—to land on the Citadel’s outer wall, with its near verticality and smooth surface is another exercise altogether, and he is never as grateful for the suit’s gripping claws as when he has to perform this specific operation.

“Almost no roll this time,” Kara teases, more good-natured than dismayed now. “You are getting good with this thing.”

“And here I thought not dying in it on the first try was already a sign of competence,” Shadow retorts.

Kara snorts at the quip and, Shadow is pretty sure, mutters something about him needing to be like this more often. He ignores it, used to that sort of remark by now, and makes his way back toward Batman’s balcony.

“You are panicking again.”

“I’m not.”

“Kal, this suit monitors your heartbeat.”

“I know,” Shadow retorts, “and I know I’m scared, but this is still not me panicking.”

Shadow, unlike Kal, does not panic. It would be a lie to say he is unaffected, of course, especially when the smallest slip could easily mean a death as gruesome as his aunt’s—and as Shadow, he has a better understanding of what that would be like than most. Nevertheless, he is not only still moving, but also in full possession of his wits. This is nothing close to panic.

“All right, then,” Kara concedes. “Are you nearly there? Distances are harder to judge on two dimensional displays.”

“I am,” Shadow says.

Down below, to Shadow’s complete lack of surprise, Batman is still standing on his balcony...or, more precisely, on the balcony’s railing. The moons shine overhead, irregular shadows casting Batman in dramatic shades of crimson and black as his cape flares out in the wind, jagged ends like daggers slicing the air. Kal watches the man’s ramrod-straight posture, the set of his shoulders, the angle of his neck as he surveys the western half of the outer city, and sighs.

“Is something the matter?” Kara asks.

“Nothing,” Shadow says.

Part of him wants to tell her she is not allowed to call him overdramatic again, but the thought feels bizarrely like a betrayal, and so he keeps it to himself. Besides, to speak his mind here would do nothing but spark a discussion they have already had a thousand times between them. No, it is not his fault Zod’s engineers conceived the suit as a body-tight armor. No, it is not his fault crimson is the best camouflage in El’s particularly clear nights, and no, it is not his fault the shape of his helmet—the only one he has found that allows for a clear panel of display beads while still protecting him—makes Shadow look like a vengeful bug. He knows it, and he knows Kara knows it. It prevents neither Kara teasing him about it every chance she gets, nor Kal feeling irrationally insecure about it. Deciding that silence is the better part of honor, Shadow keeps his mouth shut and focuses on not losing his grip on the wall instead.

“Does it look like he is about to leave?” Kara asks after a short pause. “Did he bring some sort of rope?”

“Nothing I can see, but he does seem to be bracing for a jump.”

“You can’t be serious,” Kara exclaims, her breathing disrupting the connection for one uncomfortable moment. “There is at least six thousand feet between that balcony and the city! He can’t possibly make that jump!”

“I’ve made it before,” Shadow points out, and is not surprised when Kara hisses:

“Against my advice! And you are wearing the best armor Krypton has to offer—what does Batman even have? A fancy cape.”

“I don’t know how he plans to survive the drop either. I mean, the nearest rooftops are only about two thousand feet away but—”

“That does not make the situation any better!”

Kara is making a fair point, here, but before Shadow can concede it, Batman takes a deep breath and, with one powerful push of his thighs, throws himself off the balcony. Shadow, heart rising in his throat, forces air back into his lungs even as he jumps off the wall, letting the suit rearrange the material of his wing to absorb the worst of the impact. He rolls to his feet in the same movement and runs up to the railing just in time to see Batman, cape extended into a makeshift glider that slows his descent, shoot some kind of line at a decorative beam below and a few feet in front of him.

A moment later, the line tenses. Batman’s entire silhouette—clearly meant to evoke a particular image—glides into a curved trajectory like a bird turning in the sky. From Shadow's vantage point, there is no sign Batman even considered the possibility of failure. He must have, just as he must have carefully considered the precise trajectory needed for this specific jump. Yet not an ounce of fear, or even hesitation, shows through in him, as if the men of Batman’s planet were always meant to move this way. Batman’s line shortens as he goes, bringing him into a curve short enough that it is easy—or looks easy—for him to let go of his handle on his line, flip in the air and, catching the beam with his gloved hand, right himself upon it as if on any regular floor.

The technique in itself is actually similar to Shadow’s own mode of travel in the city, though with very different tools. The elegance of it, however, the complete confidence Batman has in his own body and proprioception—Shadow, mouth and throat abruptly dry, swallows hard.

“He took the jump,” Kara says with a sigh, “didn’t he?”

“He did,” Shadow says, not surprised in the least by the way awe tinges his tone. “He looks fine.”

Better than fine, even, but Shadow doesn’t quite know how to describe the feeling that seized his heart and squeezed at his chest at the sight, has no idea what contracted his stomach in such a way. He takes a silent, fortifying breath rather than attempt the exercise and announces:

“I’ll follow him tonight. Let the Dark Sun know I won’t be able to make the run.”

“That’ll push the next ship back three days, at least,” Kara says, the frown easy to hear in her voice.

“I know, and I’m not happy about it either, but we need to know what his intentions are. I don’t think we’ll get a much better opportunity than this.”

“Fine,” Kara replies with an explosive sigh. “I will let them know. Switching to one way audio, now.”

Shadow thanks her for the courtesy even as his audio input clicks off. It is a silly superstition—or an impractical hangup, depending on the nature of his mood at the moment of description—of his that he cannot take complicated jumps while he can hear Kara talk, or breathe, or indeed make any noise at all. It is not her fault and, though Shadow knows the habit displeases her, it is not a true choice on his part, either.

Eight years he has been Shadow now, six with this suit, and even before that—when he had to climb down the entire service elevator shaft and then climb back up the roofs of the outer city—the slightest diversion of his attention would halt his first jump. There comes a point during the night, when he is focused enough—when he is Shadow enough—that silence is not such an absolute prerequisite. A point where he loses himself in his suit and his self-imposed mission, so deeply that he can ignore the distraction. But never for the first jump. Not while he steps away from the balcony railing, not when he briefly asks Rao not to let him fall. Not when he takes off at a running start, jumps up to the railing, and, using his momentum to add to the force of his jumps, gives a great push against the balcony railing, throwing himself into empty air and the sickening lurch of freefall.

It is not possible to shut off natural audio feedback from the helmet—not with the way Shadow programmed the suit, in any case—and so despite the slowing mechanism, similar in effect to Batman’s glider cape, the wind screams past his ears as the glittering lights of the outer city hurl themselves at him. There is just enough time for him to wonder if Batman, too, has to fight the gut-clenching fear that this time will be the one he misses and does not come back.

Then the moment to catch himself comes, and Shadow sets all thoughts of Batman aside. The extra material of his suit shoots forward, nanobots so attuned to Shadow’s needs they almost feel like a living thing, and with a similar curve to the one that caught Batman, Shadow lands hard on the decorative beam.

Now, to find Batman. The man is at least as comfortable swinging from roof to roof as Shadow is. It is also quite possible—almost certain, really, judging from what Shadow has seen—that Batman is much more at ease than he is with this exercise...which means the technical difficulty of any given path won’t be any help in determining whether Batman went that way or not.

Shadow allows himself a small sigh, surprised when Kara does not immediately ask what is wrong, and forces himself to think. There are two obvious routes from where Shadow stands: straight forward, going away from the Citadel wall and into the wealthier areas of the outer city; or backward, closer to the more impoverished neighborhoods. Going forward would be easier, for decorative cornices and railings become more numerous as the city goes on, and the lodgings there are easier to climb. At the very least, the risk of having those crumble underfoot is much lower than in the inner circle of the city, especially this far away from the Citadel’s main gates. Batman, however, has been researching the Melokariel Proposition for far too long to forget it now, and since as far as Shadow knows the project is almost exclusively discussed in terms of what it will do for noble families and noble pockets….Shadow starts toward the wall.

“Shad—damn it—Shadow do you hear me?”

Shadow grunts as he pulls himself on a curved roof, scanning his surroundings with one practiced sweep of his gaze. No trace of Batman, and now this.

“That’s the third time we've lost contact this week.”

“I am aware,” Kara sighs. “The vote has yet to be called, but Zor-El has allowed three different soundings already. Your installation is functional enough, but it cannot compete against that.”

Behind her, there is the low, regular buzz of a mechanical fan, and Shadow sighs. He does not have the technical skills to compete with his uncle’s police, let alone the Council’s Militia. He is...not quite incompetent, but he does not have it in him to make technological miracles. What he did have however, especially back when he first prepared himself to become Shadow, was a lot of time and unlimited access to ancient tomes on primitive technologies such as radio waves and binary coding. It took him quite a while and even more trial and error, but he did manage to build himself a central database no one on El would ever think to scan for, its near-prehistoric workings the very source of its secrecy. Later on, when Kara joined him as Support, she positively laughed at the setup, though Shadow could never quite figure out why she did.

In any case, the installation has worked well for them so far. There is no way to secure it against official forces’ technology, of course, but that is almost a non-problem in the sense that Shadow’s entire existence hinges on absolute secrecy and everything turning out as well as possible each and every night. Were he someone else—an independent Lord, perhaps, or a more ordinary citizen—there might be ways to justify the scrapes and bruises that come with his nocturnal life...but how do you explain serious injuries on someone who, like Kal-El, barely ever sets foot outside of his parents’ extremely secure residence, and even then almost exclusively to visit the extremely secure Stateroom of Peace? You do not. If Shadow makes one wrong move, every scrap of what little help he can bring to the citizens of El will be lost.

“I’ll look into alternative solutions,” he tells Kara. “Radio waves, maybe.”

Kara mutters something about sticks and stones, but Shadow ignores her. There, barely a dozen feet away from him, is Batman.

“I found him.”

The man has perched at the crumbling edge of a crumbling house’s domed roof, precariously balanced with a foot against the wall while the other rests on the rusted remains of an escape ladder that must have been abandoned for quite a while now. Batman seems unused to the architectural configuration, positioned in a way that will leave him much sorer than necessary come morning, but he seems steady enough all the same. Which explains why Shadow, seeing no reason to hurry, is only about halfway to Batman when they both hear the scream.

Altering his course, Shadow reaches the source of it a fraction of second before Batman does. A woman on the ground, a soldier’s gloved hand in her hair. Behind, three men: two armored, one screaming but otherwise paralyzed. In the distance, a window closes.

“Please, don’t take her!” shouts the man.

There is a wet crunch. He falls to the ground, clutching his nose. One of the armored men raises his weapon in the direction of the fallen man's head, aims—Batman falls on him from above, like Vohc himself descending from the stars. He is practiced, that much is clear. No hesitation. Not a single wasted move. He would win the fight in seconds if Ellon soldiers didn’t operate in groups of five.

Shadow jumps from his perch a second before the first soldier releases the woman and raises her rifle at Batman’s back. He runs. Jumps, suit extending on either side of him. Throws Batman to the ground when the impact shoves him backward.

“What was that?” Kara asks on her end of the line.

The suit must have fully reconnected, then.

Shadow does not answer her, though. He rolls to his feet—ducks a hit to the head, punches a second armored woman in the gut. Swords come out, and part of the suit turns into a familiar pair of batons. The blades shine and sing—miss Batman by inches in one corner of Shadow’s vision, spark against his suit in another. Shadow parries, ducks, strikes back. Rao, please let him get out of this alive. He is not good enough for this. There is a reason he prefers stealth, and—another duck. Close call, this time. He holds his ground, but only by virtue of having an extremely smart suit and very flexible weapons he has been using for the past eight years. Duck, duck, parry—shout in pain when a quicker sword strike catches him before he can have the suit rearrange itself, and slices his arm underneath. Parry again. One last strike, a solid kick in the shins—four soldiers leave in a profusion of curses, the fifth one unconscious on a comrade’s back.

Shadow allows himself three heaving breaths before he turns back to the people they just rescued. They have fallen to the ground, Batman standing guard while the man clings to his wife and babbles about someone left inside—children, Shadow realizes. He means children. Batman, much quicker on the uptake, is about halfway to the door when Shadow catches his wrist.

“We don’t have time—”

“You’re the better fighter,” Shadow hastens to explain. “If they come back before we can leave, you’ll be more useful here. Besides, the kids will know who I am.”

A small part of Shadow wants to grin when Batman’s impatient snarl turns to surprise, but the man was right. They do not have time for frivolity. Ignoring some pleased surprise of his own—he was halfway expecting Batman to argue against a plan that wasn’t his own—Shadow rushes inside. It is a mess, of course. The house was clearly ransacked for evidence. Broken furniture, papers strewn about with almost methodical madness. Nothing out of the ordinary, here. The soldiers made no mention of children, though, which means they must have hidden somewhere the police did not think to look at first glance. Either somewhere creative and complicated, or...Shadow crouches in front of the cabinet under the sink, and gives a soft greeting to the two little girls he finds there.

They have the same green eyes, the same wide rings under those eyes. The oldest one slaps his wrist when he reaches for them, and Shadow praises her for her bravery. Said bravery becomes a little less practical when he reaches for her and she tries to bite him, but these are harsh times for El, and so Shadow does not reprimand her.

“I’m not an enemy,” he says instead. “I am the Shadow of El. Your parents are waiting outside, and we need to go now, quietly.”

Miraculously, the children stay quiet as Shadow carries them outside. They all but fall over themselves when their father comes within reach, one of the girls almost falling to the ground in her hurry to reach familiar arms.

“Thank you,” the man tells Shadow between kisses to his daughters’ heads, “thank you so much!”

“Please, don’t. You’re not out of trouble yet.”

A few feet to the side, the woman looks between Batman and Shadow with a stony gaze, no trace of tears or fear on her face. She gives Batman a short, stoic nod before she goes to gather her family and tells them to brace themselves.

“The Shadow is right. We are still in danger, here. We need to leave.”

“I can help you with that,” Shadow says. “I know a place where people will help you.”

There is no scheduled convoy tonight but the Dark Sun, Shadow has learned, keeps shelters ready for families in transit, and these people will be safer there than anywhere else in the city. They can stay there and wait for the next departure to the deserted borders with Ul, and from there, to the stars and the safety of the Green Lanterns’ space territory. It is a good plan, but Shadow is not surprised to find both the woman and her companion eyeing Batman with undisguised wariness. Shadow cannot blame them. The citizens of El have learned to be wary of outsiders in recent years and a family suspected of treason—rightfully so, judging from their expressions and the traditional printing material Shadow saw inside—would be even warier.

Shadow cannot make a pleading face through his helmet, but Batman must pick something up from his body language because he nods, walks to the nearest rain pipe, and starts climbing. Shadow sighs.

“At least he is being cooperative,” Kara says, almost making him jump.

She was so quiet throughout the fight, he somehow managed to forget she was there at all. Or perhaps he simply didn’t hear her. Either way, her voice is a comfort, and Shadow feels his shoulders unwind a little as he tells Batman, “I’ll see you where we first met.”

He waits for Batman to turn around and look at him before he jerks his head to the left, away from the Citadel dome. Batman’s answering nod is curt and small, but it is a sufficiently explicit agreement for Shadow to settle further. He listens to the click of Batman’s boots on the rain pipe for a while, giving the family some space to organize themselves. Then, once the man has gone back inside for what looks like a long-ready travel bag, Shadow leads them to one of the Dark Sun’s safe houses.

“Is there any sign that they intend to pursue you?” Kara asks a few hours later when Shadow comes back to the house.

The place is buzzing with activity, but there is no sense of victory in the air, no feeling of a pack on the hunt.

“I don’t think so,” he says. “It doesn’t seem like they found anything on the Dark Sun, either. We got lucky.”

“That you were,” Kara replies hotly. “I don’t know how we missed that raid—”

“I’ll go by our informant’s house before I come back,” Shadow promises.

They are supposed to have this neighborhood covered, after all. This did not feel like a scheduled raid—not enough coordination for the soldiers to be an official team-up—but if there are overzealous rogue elements in the city’s police, their contact will need to know about them. And if, for some unfathomable reason, the authorities decided to send a newly minted team on a scheduled raid—improbable, but still not to be discounted—it is vital for Shadow and the Dark Sun to figure out how that could have passed them by.

“I will contact whoever I can,” Kara says. “In the meantime, you should go and give your friend a good telling-off.”

Shadow, already on his way over the rooftops, does not answer...but he does not miss the frown in Kara’s voice when she speaks again.

“Kal—”

“I’m glad to know the line is uncompromised.”

Not that it would do them much good, should anyone start scanning for audio frequencies, but it is always reassuring to know they are not being listened to.

“Kal,” Kara insists, “you are going to tell him off, aren’t you?”

“I’ll talk to him,” Shadow hedges. Kara’s grunt is more than enough to let him know what she thinks of that. “I know what he did was risky—”

“Risky? If anyone recognizes him—”

“He was trying to save those people!” Shadow protests, feeling his voice rise into a more Kal-esque register despite himself. “You can’t blame him for that!”

“I recognize that he had noble intentions,” Kara says, “but that does not excuse his recklessness. You have got to talk to him, Kal.”

“I’ll talk to him,” Shadow repeats.

Kara does much more grumbling than usual when she signs out.

Once Shadow finds Batman again, he wastes neither time nor words and strides toward the mountains with Batman close on his heels. The alien is physically fit, impressively so by Ellon standards, but Shadow is surprised to hear his breathing grow heavier after the first half hour. Whatever Batman does on his planet must not include much trekking, then. He does not complain, however, and about half an hour later they are both standing at the darkened mouth of a narrow crevice of jagged rocks. To the left, the Citadel glows a pale red in the moonlight, the outer city swallowing its feet in a mass of inky darkness that not even the light of the moons, so bright in the mountains, can penetrate.

Shadows orders the suit to rearrange one of his gloves into a flashlight and, once Batman has caught his breath—a short process, despite his insistence on maintaining proper posture and sacrificing practicality for dignity—he steps inside the crevice. Inside, it gets narrower for a while, the stone above low enough to force him to duck. At one point, he hears Batman’s head hit the stone and smirks. When they reach the first chamber—quite small, compared to what comes after, but still just wide enough for two adults to camp in—Shadow stops.

“Where are we?” Batman asks, sitting down while Shadow detaches the flashlight from his suit and settles it on the ground. “Your base of operations?”

“I wish,” Kara mutters, the connection clicking back to life in Shadow’s ears.

“One day, it might be,” Shadow tells Batman, perhaps more of a smile in his voice than he meant to put there. “For now, it’s just a cave I found when I was a kid.”

It would be a lie to say that he was less timid back then, but his parents had insisted he see the outside world, and later on his martial arts instructors had declared it good for his health to run around the mountains. In between, Kal explored. And scared a few adults in the process, but that is hardly the point.

“It’s not very interesting, geologically speaking, but it does offer some privacy.”

Batman hums, and Kara clicks her tongue.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“Right,” Shadow says, and winces internally when Batman cocks his head at him. “I almost forgot,” he covers, “I wanted to thank you.”

“Thank him?”

“Thank me?”

“For stepping in, earlier. You didn’t have to.”

“Kal, this is not what we said—”

“It was reckless,” Batman says before Shadow can debate whether he should ask Kara to let him speak. “But armed men dragging a woman by the hair in the middle of the night is not a good sign, back on Earth.”

“It isn’t a good sign here either,” Shadow sighs, “but this isn’t your planet. No one would have resented you for staying out of this.”

“I would have.”

The words carry a kind of life-defining finality that makes Kara hum and Shadow bow his head. They both know the feeling, after all. It would be hypocritical of them to contradict Batman on that point, even should they want to.

“Well,” Shadow says at last, “thank you anyway. If you hadn’t helped—”

“I am usually more on the punitive side of things,” Batman says.

It is not hurried, not urgent...and yet Shadow cannot help the feeling it is meant as a dismissal somehow. Specifically timed to make sure Shadow could not finish his sentence.

“In that case,” he says rather than force his way through the rest of his intended words, “you did well, for someone outside of their comfort zone.”

Shadow grins under his helmet, unable to help himself. His only responses are the warmth of his own breath on his face and Batman’s expression remaining so immobile as to make Shadow doubt the exchange even happened, but he is glad he said it all the same. Shadow’s belief in telling people when they've done well might be primarily a result of Kal’s needs, but that does not make it any less strong, nor is it dependent on Batman acknowledging the compliment. Not that Shadow would have complained if he had, but to each their own.

“Though to be honest, sometimes I wonder if a punitive figure wouldn’t be more useful around here.”

Shadow...tries to be one, sometimes. Well. He tried. Nothing short of a solid beating seems to deter militia members, though, and that is simply not something Shadow is truly capable of delivering. It is not a matter of training, although he is definitely lacking in that area. No; the truth is, for all that Shadow plays at being strong it is just that: a play. An illusion cast on the people who meet him to help things go the way he wants them to. But in his heart of hearts, Shadow, much like Kal, does not have it in himself to rise to the level of violence the militia is ready to use. He does become violent, sometimes, when no other options remain. He does. He also spends a significant amount of time retching, afterwards, and so he avoids physical confrontation as much as he can.

Batman’s gaze on him pulls Shadow off that particular train of thought. The blank whited-out lenses of the man’s cowl have fixed on his face—or his helmet, rather—as if they can somehow divine his secrets through the power of staring alone. Shadow is not sure what it says about him that he finds himself fearing they might succeed.

The silence stretches between them, darkness shivering with the faint echo of their voices. There is a sense of anticipation in the air. Not quite an antsy silence—although Shadow is definitely getting there—but somehow expectant, all the same. It is as though Batman, immobile as he is, manages to project the sense of waiting for more. Of waiting out someone’s nerve, to discover what they want, and Shadow….

“You are about to cave in, aren’t you?” Kara sighs in his ears.

He ignores her, out of necessity as much as personal preference.

“They want to mine the planet’s core,” he tells Batman. “That’s what the Melokariel Proposition is about. The expectation is that this will revive the entire planetary economy and bring some life back into what’s essentially—”

“A decaying former colonial power incapable of accepting its lack of relevance in the modern universe.”

Well. So much for thinking Batman would be delicate about this.

“It is,” Shadow admits nonetheless. “The Independence War’s been over for more than seven hundred years now, yet most of our nobility still acts like that was yesterday. The Wise Council is even worse. There are even people who hope the Melokariel Proposition will help Krypton reestablish its dominion over the galaxy.”

“Only because they have no more sense than tchkay plant,” Kara mutters.

“It may not sound like it,” Shadow tells Batman, trying not to let his helpless grin bleed into his tone, “but El is actually one of the more moderate Principalities.”

“And yet your king is accepting quite a lot of bribes, in the form of gifts.”

“On behalf of his father,” Shadow says. “Kor-El is the Wise King of Thinkers, and he tends to vote with Tsiahm-Lo because they are old friends. People think winning one of their votes means winning the other...but you can’t gift anything to the Wise Kings and Queens directly. It’s against the Council laws. So people work around it. There’s been an increase in the number of gifts Tsiahm-Lo’s family receives, too.”

It took quite a while, confirming that last information. Kor-El lives primarily in Kandor and is hard to meet, even for his closest relative. As for Tsiahm-Lo, he lives on the other side of the planet. Kara has contacts in many places, however, and Kal’s clumsiness is often more helpful than one might think, genuine though it is. The proof, when it came, was a hard blow for Shadow and Support both. Batman, however, takes the news quite well. He has, of course, proven his ability to remain stoic in most circumstances several times over, by now, but the demonstration is no less impressive for it, and Shadow holds in a sigh. What he would not give, for that kind of mastery of himself!

He wondered, once, whether Earthlings were simply much less emotional creatures than Kryptonians. Not every sentient species is created equal where sentiment is concerned, after all. Batman was too kind to Kal, though, and for too long, for it to be faked. Mastery it must be, then, and Shadow can only admire it, knowing he will never be able to grasp it for himself.

“That explains Zor’s remarks,” Batman mutters to himself. Then, a little louder: “What about the Green Lanterns? Why do they have that kind of reputation?”

“You said it yourself,” Shadow explains with a shrug. “Krypton is a decaying ex-colonizer that can’t accept times have changed, and the Lanterns were the ones who beat them. That would be bad enough by itself, but now they’re taking Kryptonian refugees under their protection….”

“And Krypton does not pursue?”

The way Batman asks the question makes it feel like he might already know—or strongly suspect—what the answer is, but Shadow answers anyway:

“The Peace Treaty we signed after the war doesn’t allow them to. Once the refugees are within the Lanterns’ space territory, they’re out of reach.”

“If I did not know you so well,” Kara remarks in Shadow’s ears, “I might believe this history lesson will finish with ‘and that is why you must remain uninvolved’. But you are going to let him keep going with his investigation, aren’t you?”

“I would say you are putting too much faith in that treaty,” Batman says, voice overlapping with Kara’s, “but if your government is already too proud to increase commerce with its ex-colonies when the planet is literally dying, assuming they will be too proud to ask for permission to go and catch their own traitors does not seem that far-fetched.”

Shadow nods. The words are not quite those he would have chosen to explain the situation, but they are accurate enough. It would be futile to dispute them.

“Our main difficulty here is to help those who need to flee to join the escape networks. After that, I’m told things become easier.”

“I take it you are not privy to that part of the operation.”

Shadow shakes his head. “It’s safer if we don’t know too much about the things we’re not directly involved in,” he says. “Besides, the Shadow of El is more useful in the city.”

Batman does not ask any questions, but Shadow knows what he said calls for an explanation all the same...and even if it did not, he is not hoping for Batman to remain uninvolved anymore. This means he will need information, and, well. The story of the Dark Sun and its Shadow is nothing the general public does not know. Even Kara does not protest the decision, though she does remind Shadow he only has about three hours left until the sun rises.

“So what I hear,” Batman says once Shadow is done with this retelling, “is that you are alone in ensuring those who need the Dark Sun can find them safely.”

“Yes,” Shadow says, and winces when Kara yelps in protest. “More or less.”

“Thank you,” Kara says. “’Alone’...what am I, chopped silten?”

Batman seems to ponder the answer for a moment, head bowed over Shadow’s makeshift flashlight. At the mouth of their hiding place, the sky is still dark, but it will not remain so for much longer. Shadow breaks the silence:

“To tell you the truth...I could use your help.”

Batman looks up, sharp and fast, and Shadow makes himself keep his shoulders straight. If nothing else, he will at least be able to tell Kara, truthfully, that he offered a partnership rather than begging for help.

“It seems pretty clear you won’t let go of your investigation, but you know nothing about Krypton—”

“Almost nothing,” Batman corrects. “Kal-El is a fool, but he is not entirely incompetent.”

“You really are not going to defend yourself at all, are you?” Kara sighs, but Shadow only swallows.

It is, he tells himself again, a good thing that Batman thinks so little of Kal. Less risk of discovery, this way. With that in mind, Shadow nods, conceding.

“My point is, you could work on your own, but that would take more time than you’d like. And besides, it would be a waste of energy when we could just as well pool our resources.”

“It sounds to me like I would be the one with the most to gain from that,” Batman says. “More information, more material, a better knowledge of the local culture...what do you get from it?”

“You’re a better fighter than me,” Shadow says, matter-of-fact. “And clearly you’re a skilled detective, or you wouldn’t have progressed as far as you have with a limited Ellon vocabulary. Clearly, there’s a lot you could teach me...and when this is done, the Dark Sun will help you leave.”

Batman and Kara hum at the same time, although not for the same reasons at all.

“I need time to think this over,” Batman says at last, and Shadow nods.

“Fine. But not tonight—dawn’s coming, and there’s something else I have to do before then. Let’s meet here tomorrow night. Two hours after sundown.”

“Very well.”

Together, they walk back to the entrance of the cave, where the crimson glow of the moons is paling, slowly bleeding out of the sky to give way to the orange copper of daylight. Shadow pauses to admire the sight of the mountains to the east, and when he turns back, Batman is gone.

With a grin at the alien’s flair for the dramatic, Shadow shakes his head and strides back toward the city. He does, after all, have a militia lieutenant to call on.

The next night, Shadow arrives at the crevice in the mountain only to find Batman already there, standing at the entrance with his head raised to the sky, the dim light of the moons turning his mouth and chin almost copper. He does not flinch, or indeed react in any way when Shadow steps up beside him, except to say:

“There is conflict between two of your neighboring planets. Leaark and Axor. They wanted an impartial judge, so they asked for our help. I was on my way back when I crashed on Krypton.”

“’Our’ help?” Shadow asks, puzzled. “Is your planet known for its good judgment?”

Kal knows that it is not. Shadow, however, has heard nothing of this place, and must therefore show interest in Batman’s past if he wishes to make use of that knowledge.

“No. Earth does not have political representatives in space. We do have….” Batman’s voice trails off for a moment, as if he were hesitating. The thought is incongruous, knowing what Shadow knows about him, but hesitation it must be, because Batman sounds rather reluctant when he says: “We have a group of superheroes whose reputation reaches beyond the borders of Earth. They are called the Justice League.”

Shadow blinks.

“Isn’t that a good thing? To have so many heroes dedicated to the protection of your people and the defense of justice among them?”

“There are only seven of us, actually. And the name sounds—ridiculous.”

‘Ridiculous’ is, most likely, not what Batman would have said in his mother tongue. Something worse, perhaps? Either way, the sentence leaves him frustrated, the slant of his shoulders familiar from many a language lesson. Shadow smiles at the sight, but takes care to push it out of his voice before he says, “A lot of people here would find it ridiculous, too. I think it sounds quite noble. I’d be glad if Krypton could have something like that.”

Batman looks at him again, lips pinched tightly together, but Shadow does not move. Shadow and Kal-El are very different—for all that they share a body and a mind—but their values are the same, and neither one would be ashamed to admit as much. Batman may find the concept, in its nakedness, to be ridiculous, but Shadow would argue perhaps the problem lies in him rather than in his League’s name itself.

“Mm,” Batman says, rather than answer Shadow’s question. As deflections go, it is far from his best; strangely, Shadow appreciates it all the more for that. “I have given some thought to your offer.”

Now Shadow’s heart picks up, anticipation tingling in the creases of his palms as he waits out Batman’s dramatic pause with bated breath. Eventually, just as Shadow is considering breaking the silence himself, Batman says:

“I find it acceptable. I will help you train and deal with the Melokariel Proposition. And when I ask you to, you will help me leave Krypton, whether this business is finished or not.”

“Of course,” Shadow says.

Kara, he suspects, will strongly disapprove. What good is it, to involve a man who might choose to leave next week? But Batman could have demanded to be let off Krypton right away, and he has not. He would have had every right to it, after more than three months so far from his home. Yet, despite that, he chose to stay on and help. It would be more than unfair for Shadow to ask more of him than that, and so what he does instead is bow his head and say:

“Thank you. I’m looking forward to our cooperation.”

“You might yet live to regret it,” Batman says. “Do you have somewhere we can use to train you?”

“Yes, actually,” Shadow says with a grin. “It’s the reason why I wanted us to meet here. Come with me.”

They make their way back inside the crevice and then further into the mountain, until they reach the first truly significant cave. Their footsteps echo there, every noise magnified until even the small drizzle of water at the back sounds like a river. The space is quite wide, almost large enough to contain Kal-El’s bedroom—far more than they will need to setup sparring mats and physical training equipment. The ceiling is not very high, but it is comfortable enough, and when Shadow’s flashlight touches it the crystals embedded there come alive with cold white flashes.

“This seems acceptable,” Batman says. “From what little I can see.”

“I thought you’d say that,” Shadow replies with a smile. “Just a moment, please.”

It was, perhaps, a tad overdramatic of him to hide the fire figs under a blanket. The effect when he uncovers their glass cases is so magnificent, though, that he feels no guilt about it. He brought only four bushes, but their light is enough to reflect and refract in the overhead crystals and fill the cave with multicolored beams of light, along with a softer and more natural orange glow. White lights will have to be brought in later on, as supplements, but for now this light is enough, and Shadow smiles when he realizes even Batman’s jaw has gone a little slack.

“What do you think?” he asks.

Batman swallows.

“It is...adequate,” he says.

Shadow chuckles.

“Well. Let’s get started, then.”

“If you feel ready.”

All jokes about Batman’s flair for the dramatic aside, he does display a level of intensity even Shadow was wholly unprepared for. For the three hours following his and Batman’s agreement, Shadow does nothing but jump, run, crouch, and crawl all over the floor. Sweat pours out of every pore he has, chafes at his skin under the suit, and by the time Batman is done with him, his limbs feel ready to drop him to the ground at any moment. When he requests a break, he barely even waits for Batman’s permission before he kneels next to the thin stream at the back of the cave and lets the bottom half of his helmet melt away into the rest of the suit, drinking his fill and then some without, somehow, managing to feel like his thirst is quenched.

“I thought you were ready,” Batman says when Shadow is done drinking and back to panting.

There is no apology in the man’s voice, not even an ounce of regret, but Shadow hears the disappointment loud and clear. His fists clench.

“Clearly,” he says, struggling to keep his voice even, “I miscalculated.”

He shouldn’t have. He has seen enough of Batman, by now, to know better. He should have anticipated the hard work, and more—and to tell the truth, he should have been better prepared regardless. The Shadow of El should not let itself be stopped by something so mundane as lack of endurance, and in the privacy of his own mind, Shadow resolves to do better next time. After all, if Batman can do it, why should Shadow not even attempt it?

“How have you even survived all this time?” Batman asks.

The disappointment is gone from his tone now, his voice back to perfect neutrality. Shadow, who has not been naive enough to imagine a neutral tone meant neutral feeling for a long time, asks himself the same question. The suit is many things, after all, but magic is not one of them, and if this training session has proven anything, it is that Shadow must have been much luckier than he had ever thought...that, and that he was right in deciding never to discard the suit for his patrols.

“I’m usually more of a spy than a vigilante,” he tells Batman, breathing still ragged.

He manages, just barely, to keep the apology out of his voice. It does not do much for the blooming sense of inadequacy at the pit of his stomach, but it does preserve the dignity of the Shadow of El. Besides, he is starting to suspect that to apologize for his shortcomings, at this point, would accomplish nothing but driving Batman to push him even harder. Not that it would not be useful! There is, after all, a reason Shadow suggested this partnership in the first place, and contrary to what Batman seems to think, Shadow is fully convinced he is the one who has the most to gain from this endeavor. Batman has full access to the royal library, after all, and Shadow is starting to suspect he could have found his own way back to Earth, given enough time.

Fighting is simply not something one can properly learn on their own.

“Focusing on information-gathering,” Batman is saying, as Shadow returns to his feet, nanobots reshaping into his helmet just in time to hide the last of his chin as he turns back around, “does not mean you can afford to be useless in a fight. Your suit may do a number of amazing things, but it is still nothing but a suit, and you cannot afford to rely on it. You must be able to defend yourself, even if you are caught without it.”

Shadow, feeling like a child scolded for failing to put enough effort into his homework, resists both the urge to protest that he is always wearing his suit—as it is both beside the point and a piece of information best kept between Kara and himself—and the urge to bow his head. There is no time to be self-pitying. He is here to learn, after all. That means taking whatever Batman has to throw at him, and using it to grow. If it also means Shadow must go through more physical drills in the upcoming weeks than he has in his entire life up until now, then so be it.

“Just be careful who you share this with,” Kara teases when Shadow recounts his first training session later in the night, on his way to pick a family up from their home and lead them to the nearest safehouse. “There would be no explanation for your sudden transformation into a high-level athlete.”

Not, of course, that she truly has to worry about that. The only person Kal-El could ever talk to about his progress in martial arts would be Batman, and Batman does not want anything to do with him. Shadow bites down on a peevish retort anyway.

Shadow...keeps up, somehow. He trains with Batman for three hours every evening and emerges from the cave, exhausted and drenched in his own sweat, only to go around the city, gathering intelligence on the militia’s movements, interrogating whoever he can with Batman’s help—and oh, how these conversations go faster with someone who is actually skilled at drawing answers out of reluctant participants!—and leading more and more prospective refugees to the Dark Sun’s safe houses. The Melokariel Proposition was voted into effect three weeks ago, precisely three and a half months after Batman’s arrival on Krypton, and Batman's failure to publicly involve himself one way or the other in that controversy has mostly silenced those at court who whispered that he might be an envoy of Vohc. He almost snorted, when Kal related this news, and chuckled when he shared that tidbit with Shadow later the same day.

Of all the things collaborating with Batman has changed in Shadow's life, receiving regular updates on his own life from an external perspective is, without contest, the strangest. He knows how to deal with being interrogated, both as Shadow and as Kal. Hearing himself described on a semi-regular basis is another thing entirely.

Mostly, though, Shadow struggles. He gains muscle, but loses weight. He fights better, stands straighter in the night. But when daylight comes and he turns the suit back into Kal-El’s lab coats and refined fabrics, his shoulders slouch further than they ever have in his life. It is...fine, at first. Exhausting, yes, but important, and Shadow—he keeps up. He manages. Not brilliantly, maybe, but efficiently, and who cares if Kal suffers for it? Certainly not Batman, and certainly not Shadow. For the first six weeks after Batman started to train him, Shadow manages.

After that, though, the training starts to take its toll. Shadow feels it in his bones, perceives it in the tightness around Batman’s mouth, a sense of defeat hovering around the alien in a way it never has before, in all four and a half months he has been on Krypton. For a while, Shadow tries to believe Kara and entertain the thought that Batman might, perhaps, simply be homesick...but if it were only that, then why not simply ask to go? Or, at the very least, go to Kal, whose eagerness to learn more about Batman’s home planet could not be more pathetically obvious if he tried? No, all the evidence points to Shadow himself being the source of Batman's displeasure.

Gradually, the giddiness he had felt over this arrangement—the beauty of all the things he would learn to do, and do better—fades. Shadow goes through the motions of his and Kal-El’s lives on autopilot, faced with the bitter realization that even he is not enough. There is nothing there—a sham, at the most; an illusion the people of El cling to well past the time it should have been cast aside, merely because there is nothing else to count on. Because they have put too much faith in it, by now, to turn back without consigning themselves to a life of shame. There is nothing there except the thin ghost of a wish, an ideal that could be put to better use by better hands.

Batman could do it. He does not say as much, and speaks little of his own work on Earth to Shadow—but Kal is a timid fool, and there is no danger in sharing secrets with him. Batman could do it; but Shadow cannot, and so he applies himself to helping Batman as best as he can...or, failing that, to making sure he does not hinder the man’s work, at least.

Together, they infiltrate houses and places Shadow would never have dared to take on alone. They scare Kara half to death—or rather, Shadow does. He has yet to reveal her existence to Batman; part of him is still wary of the consequences should someone else find out about her, and another part is disturbingly unwilling to let Batman know he is being observed, when Shadow knows the alien would retreat even more than he already does if he were aware of it. Shadow is unpracticed, at first, and then he is tired and stumbles where he needs to be sure-footed. He muddles through the thick fog of his brain, when he should be sharp and alert, and blinks himself from the brink during patrol.

They are few, these moments, and far between at first. It is like...like Shadow detaches from himself, somehow. Like his soul remains trapped in his head, while the rest of his body moves on with life, a puppet made of empty, mechanical parts, until these divided pieces of him finally reunite in the sweetness of oblivion. These moments, few and far between—until, somehow, they aren’t.

Time numbs Shadow to his own purpose. Caring becomes harder. It takes more effort than it used to, to fear for the people he helps, to mourn for those he loses. It is not so much that they are not important, but rather—rather that everything is important. Stopping the violent expulsion of citizens is important. Gathering evidence of the corruption that led to this predicament is important. Helping those willing to do the work to inform the rest of El of the dangers of mining Krypton’s core is important. Everything is important; everything claws at Shadow’s attention, pulling at his soul until it all blurs into a thick feeling of guilt for his inability to care more...and then Shadow shuts down.

He does not mean to do it. Does not plan to sit at his desk, and blink so slowly two hours have gone by before he opens his eyes again and picks up his pen. He does not mean for Kal to lie on his bed in the morning and think he should go and wash himself, feed himself, read—turn his head away from the ceiling, at the very least, but even that proves beyond his strength, and so Kal-and-Shadow both remain where they are and let time pass them by. Neither part of him means for that to happen, the space where they meet horrified and desperate to stop it, to move, to do anything but—anything at all. But that space where Shadow and Kal-El meet is a sad thing, shriveled and pitiful, and while the days it manages to take over do not, at least, feel like they are spent watching fresh paint dry, they are the kind of days that make both Kal and Shadow regret the numbness.

That part of Shadow—that small, terrified part of him that makes even Kal sound...functional, somehow—wonders with despair how far it will all go. What it will take to wake him up, even just a part of him. It watches as Shadow-and-Kal go through the motions, present but not. He-they go through the motions—must perform with some success, seeing as no one thinks to ask what is wrong with them. Him. Inside, though, it feels more and more like Shadow—like Kal, like both of him—is trying and failing to pry a locked door open with his bare hands. He sleeps. He does what he must at night and during the day, protecting those who count on him and attending what official occasions he is expected to. He does forget to eat, now and then, if nothing pressing requires him to make sure he has some sustenance. It is not a problem.

Or, to be precise: it is not a problem, until Kal faints in the royal family’s private library. He does not mean to faint, much like he has not meant to do many other things. One minute he is looking for a book, somewhat lightheaded, and telling himself he will go lie down as soon as he finds what he needs to prepare for Batman’s Ellon lessons, and the next something deep and dark opens behind his eyes, pulls him down—he blinks, and has to think hard for a minute or two before he realizes the reason that particular green velvet loveseat looks so strange is because it is not meant to be seen with one’s head lying on the ground.

There is a low sound in Shadow—no, Kal. There is no red at his wrist, no warm moisture on his face. He is meant to be Kal. It is just as well. He pushes himself up on his wrists nonetheless, surprised when something on his shoulder forces him back to the ground.

“Stop trying to get up, you imbecile,” a low, rough voice is saying, close to his head, when he manages to recognize words again. “Lie down.”

Kal blinks, head spinning again even as he tries to figure out whether anyone else was present when he—blinked? Fell? It is hard to tell. He remembers where he was before, but it is difficult to understand how he came to be where he is now...wherever that is, exactly. To make sense of what he hears, right now, is beyond his ability. Not that it truly matters, in the end, for before Kal can truly understand what he is being told, a strong pair of arms seizes him under the armpits, lifts him up off the ground—Kal is on a sofa. The green loveseat is nearby, cozy but too small to lie down on in full. Kal closes his eyes, opens them again and focuses on the ceiling when the abyss inside him turns out to be much closer than he thought it would be. He does not try to sit up.

“I called for honeyed tea,” Batman-in-his-Nightwing-suit says when Kal finally manages to find his face. “You need sugar.”

It is quite probable Kal actually does need that. From the feel of things, though, he also needs some ice for his head and a thousand years of sleep. Better yet: he needs to go to bed, and never wake up at all. It is a tempting thought. Burying himself under the covers, forgetting there is a world outside...but that would not be acceptable, of course, for a prince of El. Not even for the pathetic offspring of a lower branch. So what Kal does instead is apologize, squinting when it becomes clear Batman did not understand him.

“I am so sorry,” Kal repeats, to no better result. “Your lesson….”

It takes Kal tremendous effort, to seize control of his own mouth again and force the words into some semblance of shape, but he manages. This time, Batman understands. He does not...scoff. Not truly. He does not roll his eyes either, although a part of Kal is acutely aware that the cowl makes it terribly hard to be certain of that. Besides, the man’s stoic silence gives the strong impression that, though he considers himself too dignified to roll his eyes, a significant part of him wants to. That prompts Kal to apologize again, only for Batman’s mouth to pull downward.

“Do not apologize,” he says, laying a gloved hand on Kal’s clammy forehead. “These lessons are not life-or-death anymore.”

Kal, whose throat and chest feel like someone is trying to squeeze them into some terribly undersized container, manages to keep a hold of himself long enough to say:

“You are right. I suppose you do not need me anymore.”

He remains conscious just long enough to take his tea before sinking into a long-needed nap. In his dreams, Batman stays by his side—brings him water when he wakes up, and pushes the hair out of his eyes as he sinks back into sleep—but when he wakes up, this time in his bedroom, there is no sign that he has been anything but alone.

Shadow groans when Batman pulls him, none too gently, to his feet. He is not, thankfully, dizzy enough to have trouble standing, although it certainly did not help him during the fight. Part of it might be that Shadow has yet to grow used to how much fighting they have to do, these days. It has been six weeks, now, since the Melokariel Proposition was adopted. Five months, almost to the day, since Batman landed on Krypton. Why he remains, Kal has no idea, but he does carry the knowledge of how invaluable Batman’s help is on his shoulders and in his guts, every day.

Barely a night passes, now, without them having to put themselves between people who refused to sell their homes to the first mining companies and those who would intimidate them into leaving. Desperate men and women left everything they had in poorer Principalities to come and work in El, where, they were told, life would be easy and plentiful—and where they are instead welcomed with insults, closed doors, and employers who could not care less what happens to the lowest layers of Krypton’s social strata. Farmers on the outskirts of the city are losing cattle, the noise and dust of the first mining shafts stressing the animals too much for them to remain productive; not to mention the sudden influx of Ellon citizens who can no longer live around the Citadel but still can’t, or won’t, attempt to make their way in exile. All around the Principality, the consequences of the Melokariel Proposition are already proving disastrous, and the only people who seem to care are either unable to act directly, like Kara, or pathetically, impossibly outnumbered, like Shadow and Batman.

Every morning, Shadow comes home with new bruises, new cramps. He sinks into exhaustion and numbness for the rest of the day, and struggles harder and harder to exit itwith every night that passes...he is, overall, not very surprised that the intimidating line of Batman’s mouth seems distinctly chilly tonight. He did not wait to see as much before beginning a familiar litany of self-recriminations, of course. He is, after all, perfectly aware of all that he is doing wrong—perfectly aware of what would have become of that woman, if he’d failed to keep the Kandori soldiers away from her. He is also perfectly aware of what would happen to him, should he fall into their hands, although that at least he could live with. Metaphorically speaking.

The overarching point of all of this is: Batman is unhappy. So is Shadow. How could he not be? He sees what he is doing wrong—how woefully short he falls of upholding the simple standard of making himself useful to the people around him. What is the point of there even being a Shadow, if all he does is add to the mess? What is the point of pretending, of forcing Kal into an ever deeper isolation, if Shadow cannot even accomplish the one thing he has ever truly tried do for his people?

“What in the — is wrong with you?” Batman hisses as he all but drags Shadow away from the safe house they left their rescue in, the foreign word strange and yet perfectly understandable to Shadow’s mind.

Shadow could give Batman a long list, a very long list, of the things that are wrong with him. Long enough to fill the whole trek to their cave in the mountains, and then the rest of the night after that, but they do not have that kind of time. To be honest, Shadow does not have that kind of strength, either. The honest, ugly truth of it is: he is barely even surprised. There had to come a time when he couldn’t fool himself anymore, let alone the people around him. The thought bows his head even as he follows Batman out of the city and into the jagged mountains around them, half his energy focused on putting one foot in front of the other and the other half spent on keeping his spine straight enough to avoid tipping his red suit over the line from majestic to clownlike.

“Shadow,” Batman says again, sterner this time.

Shadow draws a breath in.

“I think I was right, you know. That first night. You’re much better suited for this than I am.”

They have reached the outskirts of the city by now, sharp boulders surrounding them in ever closer ranks as they stride through the mountains. Batman has grown used to the trek in the past few weeks, and he does not trail behind like he did on that first night; but he does leave a step or two between Shadow and himself, and that is something for Shadow to be grateful for. The peace does nothing to soften the silence, though, and with silence comes an ever-lengthening list of things Shadow should have learned by now—should know how to do better, faster. It is a list Kal has been very familiar with for many years, but it is the first time Shadow has had to go through this painful a reading of it, and so he tries to keep it at bay by saying:

“Perhaps Kal-El was right in his description of you. You do seem like you could be Nightwing come again.���

Batman snorts, but there is no humor in it, and he does not wait for the palm of Shadow’s suit to turn into a flashlight before he steps into the crevice under the mountain.

“I know,” Shadow says as he hurries to keep up, “Kal-El is an imbecile, but—”

“Kal-El is looking for meaning where there is none,” Batman interrupts. “He thinks if I am Nightwing come again, I will lead him out of his miserable existence somehow. He is wrong, and you need to get a hold of yourself now, before you start believing the same things.”

He steps into the cave with an angry gesture, the curtain they installed to keep the light in rattling in protest at his abruptness.

“I didn’t mean—“ Shadow starts, but Batman cuts him off in a hiss.

“You nearly destroyed that operation. You cannot slip up like that again.”

It takes a few seconds before Shadow finds it in himself to nod, chastised. He has no excuse for it, he knows, no way to explain his actions except sheer incompetence. He knows—has known since he saw Batman leap off the Citadel—what a true hero should look like. What standards Shadow must be held to, before he can be said to fulfill his purpose. He has tried to meet those standards—he has. But he has fallen woefully short, and it is, perhaps, time he faced the facts and did the last helpful thing he can think of: retire.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles.

The words sound strange in Shadow’s lower, harsher register. Apologizing does not fit the image of him any more than it would fit Batman. Who would fear someone who apologizes, after all? And isn’t that what Shadow is meant to do? Strike fear into the hearts of those who would harm the people Shadow is meant to protect?

No. It never truly worked like that. No one ever flinched from him the way they flinch from Batman—or Nightwing, as some have called him, no matter how much he dislikes the connection. There was a time when Shadow—when Kal himself, hidden far inside his own heart—could pretend that it worked. Could tell himself he was doing what he was meant to...but perhaps it is best, now, that he finally let go of his illusions. That he start making his decisions with a clearer head. A sounder mind. It is what is best, for everyone.

“Don’t be sorry,” Batman tells him from where he went to crouch beside the little stream, tone far gentler than Shadow deserves. “Be better.”

“But how?”

That...was not meant to come out of Shadow’s mouth. Not where anyone could hear it, at the very least. It is one thing, after all, to know that he is a failure, but it is quite another to beg for Batman’s pity. As if the man did not have far better things to do than to indulge Shadow’s weaknesses in both aspects of his life! But the question did come out, and Shadow cannot take it back. He breathes in, deep and unsubtle, and does not allow his neck to bend, even though his gaze plunges low enough that the tip of his nose and the inside of his helmet are the only things he can see.

Batman, for his part, has frozen. Stunned, probably, that Shadow has the audacity to ask that sort of question. To be that pathetic. It would make sense. Probably.

“I do what has to be done,” Batman says at last. “And if something is a problem, I work at it until it is not one anymore.”

Shadow nods. That makes—a lot of sense, actually. And if he is honest, he knows it would be best for him to leave his whining behind and work on the things that are problems, but...well, the thing is, everything seems to be a problem these days, for Shadow and Kal both. Eating is a problem. Showering is a problem. It is not that he does not do these things anymore. He does. But where such tasks used to be perfunctory, so automatic as to go unnoticed, it sometimes takes him hours to brace himself for the journey from labs to shower, from shower to bed. In the morning, the journey back is just as hard. Neither Shadow nor Kal—to say nothing of the creature in between—has enjoyed a meal in weeks, let alone any kind of activity beside that.

If Shadow were a better man—a stronger man—he would get a hold of himself and pull himself back into working order, but he is not. He is not, and he cannot. He has disappointed Batman tonight, and he will disappoint him again, that much is easy to see. And...it would not be so bad if Sh—if he had known better than to allow his hopes to grow in the first place. It would not have hurt so much if he had remembered that the truth of him lies not in Kal, not in Shadow, but in that dark and shriveled space inside. If he had known better than to let himself think this part of him could possibly hope to rise from the mediocrity clinging to its bones, even to fulfill the only purpose he thought he had. If he had been smart enough not to expect anything more than passable performances, then failing would not have been so painful.

But he did not know better, and the bitterness of reality burns at the corners of his eyes, the edges of his cheeks. It slides down the bridge of his nose and onto his neck without his permission, even as he struggles to keep his breathing even, his voice controlled. There is a cold, grim pride in realizing there is no trace of tears in his voice when he says, “You’re right. I have to—I’ll do better.”

He has no idea how, yet, but he will figure it out. After all, he can hardly do worse.

It takes Shadow more time than usual to climb up the disused elevator shaft, but he does manage it eventually. He collapses at the foot of it with a relieved sigh, thankful for once that Kryo’s security protocols mean he is to survey the top of the stairs and is, therefore, nowhere to be seen. There is too much of a mess in Shadow’s head to bear the thought of a witness. He does not have the strength to deal with it and with his hunit at the same time. Showering, in itself, is an ordeal. He goes through it with mechanical gestures, wiping the snot from his upper lip and the blood from his knee, where the suit’s rearranging circuitry cut him during a false move. When he emerges, he is...slightly less of a walking piece of waste, perhaps. It is a good thing, and, clinging to that, Shadow mostly settles himself down into the hunch of Kal’s shoulders, his more timid intonations. Kal is still unable to stomach the thought of walking as far as his rooms, though, and so once Shadow’s suit has shifted into more princely garments, he alters his course and goes to collapse in the nearest library.

They have entered the small hours of the night, now. Everyone, even Batman will be asleep—or at the very least pretending to sleep. There is little risk of being disturbed, or even found before the household wakes. It leaves more than enough time for Kal to dismiss Kryo and let the suit’s sleeve rearrange into a communication screen to type a quick message saying he is home, safe and sound. The rest of the night hardly matters, and Kal is not planning to discuss it until Kara writes:

What’s wrong?

Kal blinks, display beads blurring in front of him as exhaustion takes over and makes him slouch even further, and raises his knees to his chest until only half of him is even taking any space at all.

Nothing, he types.

You have not been punctuating.

Kal’s nose itches. He sniffles a little, just enough to dislodge the dust stuffing his nostrils. Just enough to try and swallow around the knot in his throat.

I’m fine

Kal. What is it?

Just tired

There is no way to know whether Kara is even looking at her handscreen anymore. She might have gone to sleep, for all Kal knows. She would be right to, even. But much as Kal dreads the turn their conversation has taken, he can’t quite help himself from feeling like a drowning man clutching at a buoy when the material of his sleeve forms into a new line of text:

You have been tired for months, now. Perhaps it is time you allowed yourself some rest.

From what? There is little enough for me to do, here

From your projects. You have been doing nothing but that for weeks on end. Perhaps it is time you stopped following my advice and found something else to do. It would do you good to spend a little more time with Batman.

He has no interest in me

Gods, the self-pity, even in the written words, is unbearable. Kal grits his teeth just seeing it on the screen. Has he not had enough? Has he not shown how pitiful he is often enough already? He should stop here, and he knows it. But instead of bidding his cousin goodbye and going to bed, Kal watches with some horror as his fingers keep typing as if on their own:

He has no interest in shadow either

he is right

Where in the Sixth Heaven is that even coming from? Kara sends back, almost instantly.

Nowhere, Kal tells her. I suppose I am a little

tired

I almost caused our doom tonight

one day, I actually will

I suppose I am tired of wondering if today will be the day

You must be exhausted indeed to say that sort of nonsense, Kara sends after a long pause. You need to take time to rest, Kal. Everyone has their ups and downs, you simply need to pull yourself together.

Kal gapes as the screen, shocked as if by a slap. There are—he does not know that there are words to describe the hollowness gaping in his chest, the pressure around his throat. His eyes burn again, hotter than before. When he breathes in, it sounds ragged. Painful and laborious, like a wounded animal. He forces himself through it—then through another, and another, until he feels composed again, and can...until he is somewhat composed again. Held together as if with gossamer, but composed nonetheless. Adult. Mature. Rational.

He has every intention of being exactly that: of thanking Kara for the advice and going to heed it as soon as possible. But then his eyes catch the words again, and nothing in the world can stop the tears from spilling.

It takes Kal a while to realize he is not alone, caught up as he is in the aching burn of tears down his face. It is as if the world vanished in his sobs, somehow, swallowed whole by a thing Kal should have known better than to let grow so vast—should have known better than to succumb to. He cries, and cries, and cries, and does not notice there is anyone there until a hand settles on his shoulder, light and too tight at the same time as if its owner couldn’t quite tell what sort of pressure would provide the most comfort. Kal shrinks away, at first. He buries his face deeper in the hollow between his knees, arms coming up to cover his head and shield the burning heat of his neck from the rest of the world.

Eventually, though, the tears run out. They leave him empty, wrung out, as if after two days without sleep. In his chest, Kal’s lungs echo with cold wind, a wet and pale feeling where there should be warmth and sun. Despair left with the tears, though, and Kal may be cold but he is also settled, somewhat, mind cleared just enough to make him feel almost coherent as he runs a hand across his face and turns to whoever decided to stay with him. He is perhaps more surprised than he should be, caught somewhere between gratitude and mortification, as he discovers Batman’s cowled face looking down at him with a frown. It seems the Gods have decided today will not be his day.

“Do you feel better?” Batman asks before Kal can think of anything to say, proper grammar still firmly in place.

The shift from talking to Kal like an equal to talking to him with the respect due to a prince greatly improved Batman’s quality of life in the palace, but Kal’s stomach has yet to learn not to drop with disappointment every time it happens. It makes him ache for the night, and the way Batman at least sees Shadow as an equal, if one of little use.

Kal nods, unable to make himself speak. He wants to stay the way he is—to coil tighter and tighter until he disappears and people forget he ever existed at all. To vanish into the night and become...the wind, maybe, or something equally untouchable. His parents would disapprove, though, and the weight of their gazes is on his mind as he gathers what little dignity he has left and forces himself to uncurl. Bit by bit, Kal straightens up, bare feet resting on the plush carpeting, toes digging into the fibers as if he can find strength down there. He is acutely aware of the itch in his face, the splotchy heat in his cheeks. How ridiculous does he look? There is nothing here he can use to fix his appearance, but he cannot help but wonder. At least if he could see himself, he would be able to assess just how disappointed Batman must be in him. Assuming he can still be disappointed in Kal, that is—assuming there is a greater depth to which his opinion of Kal could possibly sink.

There is no point in dwelling on the topic, however, and Kal makes himself take a breath. Batman is going out of his way to give Kal some attention when he cannot possibly want to be doing that. The least Kal can do is to make this encounter as short as possible, and let Batman be on his way.

“Thank you,” he tells the man, relieved when the tremor of his voice does not grow to a full tremble. “I am fine now.”

He cannot possibly look fine. Even without the tears—and those, Batman cannot miss—the lack of sleep must be easy to read in the hollows of his face by now. Kara, he knows, would be marching him to bed at this point, pulling promises of sleep from him before they even reached his bedchambers. Kara has long been familiar with short nights herself, before she even discovered Kal and Shadow were one and the same, but she has always been adamant about sleeping for a six-hour stretch every night, and has never hesitated to bully Kal into following the same rules.

Batman is not Kara, however, and where she would be sending him to sleep, he stands by Kal’s side without a word, solid and surreal in the darkness of the library. The top of his head, silhouetted against the ocher light of the moons, looks like stone, and it seems like he could wait forever for Kal to speak. Perhaps it is the comfort—or threat—of it that makes Kal blurt out:

“Truly, I am fine. Sometimes things are—I am fine. I will take care of this.”

“If that is what you want,” Batman says, voice entirely neutral, hand immobile. “We could also talk, if you would prefer. It does not have to be about...this.”

The carefully nonspecific phrasing makes Kal snort, as he wipes the last of his tears on the heels of his hands and resists the urge to lean into Batman like a tired child. He should be better at this. Batman, he is sure, would never be caught in this sort of state. He is too professional—too controlled—for it.

He did offer, though, and it might be that he is only acting out of pity—a part of Kal thinks, perversely, that Batman might be hoping to have the library to himself, but he shuts it down. It feels somehow ungrateful to listen to that voice for too long. Out of pity or not, however, Batman did offer to listen, and where else is Kal going to find someone to confide in? The only one who would be willing to listen is Kara, but she is busy, and does not seem to realize her advice of pushing through the pain and being normal again will not work for Kal. And, in all honesty, what harm could possibly come of confessing to someone who considers him uninteresting already? If worst comes to worst and the conversation proves unhelpful, well. Kal has learned to deal with that.

“It is nothing,” he says with a small shrug. “It is—I suppose I am...frustrated, sometimes. That I am not—”

It does not feel right to say ‘good enough’. Too self-pitying, too overt a demand for attention. Too desperate a plea for an absolution Kal does not deserve. He changes tack:

“That I do not have a Guild.”

There is a pause, heavy and cold, and Kal bites his lip. Why did he have to say that, and why did he have to say it to Batman, of all people? Crying about his Guildlessness is not going to make Kal sound any less pathetic; quite the opposite. Besides, he chose it, did he not? He could have followed Kara and his parents’ advice and dedicated himself to the learning of a Guild of his choice, and then perhaps...oh, but who is he trying to fool? No amount of work would ever have compensated for an absence of genetic markers, and while Kal might have spared himself some suffering if he had chosen that path, he might as easily have made his life worse. There is no real way for him to know, and, from what he knows, no basis of comparison in Batman’s culture, so what is the point?

“I apologize,” he tells Batman. “I know you do not care for that system.”

The alien has been discreet about this in public, but there was a time when he did not shy away from sharing his opinions with Kal. Even now, as he smiles—or gives the impression of a smile—Batman does not seem overly invested in the topic.

“Evidently, you do,” he says anyway.

There is a short pause, as if Batman were chewing on his words before he adds:

“So does the rest of Krypton. A great deal, from what I understand.”

“They do,” Kal admits, head bowed almost without his consent. “I know I should heed Kara’s advice and ignore them. I know I am too sensitive, but—”

“With...all due respect to your cousin,” Batman says, slipping out of his more formal grammar and into the familiar forms he used to use to talk to Kal, “it seems to me like it is quite flippant of her to call this easy to ignore when she has a Guild to belong to.”

Kal blinks, raising his head to look at Batman again, jaw slack with surprise. Never, in his entire life, has he been told anything like this, and in less than a second his throat clenches again. He breathes through it, and swallows hard.

“I do not—I have no idea what it is like not to have a Guild on Krypton. But I do know how it feels when everyone you meet has been convinced you were an idiot long before they ever met you.”

This time, when Kal blinks, there is a distinctly deprecating grimace on Batman’s lips, as if he has just swallowed something incredibly bitter. Kal understands the sentiment, of course. Of course he does. But the thought of Batman—quite possibly the smartest, most competent person Kal has ever met—being regarded with anything but awe and respect? Let alone the same sort of disdain the rest of Krypton has for Kal? Impossible.

“Please,” Kal says, voice smaller than he likes, “do not feel like you must pretend on my behalf. You—”

“I’m not—” Batman breathes in, deep and long, and when he speaks again his tone is entirely stable: neutral to the point of blankness. “I am not pretending.”

He is controlled, the emotion gone from his voice, and a part of Kal admires that. The rest of him, though, focuses on the tightness of Batman’s jaw. On the way his fingers dug—briefly, but hard enough to bruise—into the meat of Kal’s shoulder. On the way his other hand has clenched into a tight fist. Kal sees all of this and realizes with a dismayed sort of awe, that Batman is, indeed, telling the truth.

“On Earth, I—most people do not...see me as a very smart person. You could say I am something of an idiot.”

“You are not!” Kal protests, more vigorous than he would have anticipated. “I may not have known you long, but—”

“I know,” Batman says, not an ounce of arrogance in the tone. “My point is—just because a group of people deems you useless does not mean you are. Sometimes people are wrong, even as a group.”

Kal’s mouth opens and closes before he can even figure out what he wants to say. It seems, however, that Batman sees something in his expression, because the next time he speaks—quiet, collected, but with what sounds a little like regret in his tone—he says:

“I can be wrong, too.”

Kal clamps his mouth shut at that, teeth clicking together as he lowers his head again. It takes longer to get himself under control this time, more effort to push the words aside and keep them for later examination. Some words—some gifts—cannot possibly be appraised at a glance.

“Thank you,” Kal manages anyway, the words all the fainter for having to squeeze their way through the tightness of his throat.

He gets to his feet, then, breathing fast, eyes burning. He may be able to set Batman’s words aside, but his heart cannot, and despite Batman’s noise of protest—or what Kal thinks, hopes, is a noise of protest—he bows in gratitude.

“It is late, and I do not wish to impose on you any further,” he says. “Thank you for your kind words. Good night, Batman.”

This time, the alien does not try to stop him. Kal makes his way back to his apartments on quiet feet, one hand pressed over his mouth, and cannot quite tell what sort of tears he spills as he cries himself to sleep.

Batman spends more time with Kal, after that night in the library. It is...awkward, in a way their language lessons never were. Part of it is that it is impossible to disentangle the sudden resurgence of interest from what felt like one of the most humiliating encounters of Kal’s life; but another, not insignificant part is also that Batman himself does not quite seem to know what he is trying to do. Or rather it feels like he is trying to help, but does not quite know how to go about it, as if his kindness were a long-unused muscle he has not yet figured out how to train. The thought is touching, and Kal knows to appreciate the sentiment—he does! But there is a sense of purpose in these encounters, a feeling of reaching for a definitive goal, that wasn’t there back when they simply exchanged ideas and asked questions about each other’s culture.

Kal is grateful for Batman’s help. He is. But quite aside from the fact that every one of their conversations makes it more obvious that Batman is better suited to leadership positions—much as the Nightwing associations continue to chafe at him—there is also a part of him that misses the days when Batman treated him not as a mission, not as someone to fix, but as a friend.

Still, they continue on, and it is soothing to have someone to talk to again. Not as much as it used to be—not nearly enough to compensate for all of Kal’s shortcomings, both in and out of Shadow’s costume—but enough at least to lull him into a sense of—of misplaced optimism. Just enough for Kal to think that maybe, if he gives himself enough time, he will manage to fix his flaws. To stop being sorry, and start being better.

Life, as it is wont to do, proves him wrong less than two weeks after the incident in the library, the night before his thirtieth birthday.

He knew—from the very start, he knew his poor sleeping habits would become a major problem, given time. He knew this, and still he refused to do what needed to be done, too worried about the dangers of sleeping medicines to accept that they were the only solution to his problem.

Now Shadow is running after a group of Kandori soldiers, the data sticks in their pockets containing enough information to bring down a significant portion—if not all—of the Dark Sun’s escape routes, and he is losing ground. His lungs burn with the effort of keeping up with Batman, or at the very least keeping the alien in his line of sight; his legs scream in protest with every movement. By his sides, his arms pull at his shoulder blades as if to split him in half. He is drenched with sweat under the suit, panting for breath even as he calls out Kara’s directions as to where to find the people they pursue, grateful that she is here to keep track of his suit’s readings when he is too exhausted to focus on anything but the chase.

Several feet ahead, Batman is all but flying. Every line of his body screams competence, confidence. Earlier, when the Kandori soldiers split up—two leaving, while the other three remained to take care of the so-called terrorists—Batman was the only reason Shadow got out of the fight at all, let alone unscathed. Even now, when the soldiers make a wrong turn and shove themselves into a dead end, it is Batman who catches up with them first, all but gliding into immobility. What his uniform is supposed to represent, Shadow does not know; but he cannot blame the two Kandori for recoiling from it, both the color and the shape far too reminiscent of Nightwing—and, by extension, the wrath of Vohc—to leave any Kryptonian indifferent. Even Shadow shivers as he takes his place by Batman’s side.

“Kal, you have to sit this one out,” Kara warns in his helmet. “Your readings—”

“I don’t really have a choice,” Shadow mutters between two heaving breaths.

To his left, Batman gives him a sharp look, but does not speak. Shadow allows himself two more lungfuls of air before he speaks in Kandori:

“Give us the data. We will let you go unharmed.”

Neither of the soldiers answer, but one of them spits on the ground. No need to translate that. On Shadow’s left, Batman stiffens.

“Kal, please,” Kara insists, just as Batman says:

“Fine.”

Batman jumps into the fight without hesitation. Behind him, Shadow scrambles—grapples with one of the soldiers to pull her off Batman’s back. Lands in a puddle with a hiss. Rolls back to his feet. When he raises his head, the soldier—a captain, her uniform says—is smirking at him. Why shouldn’t she? Batman is busy, and Shadow has already demonstrated he is not up for this fight. He braces himself when she comes for him. Dispatches the material of one baton to reinforce the suit. He ducks a punch. Catches another in the shoulder; the suit absorbs it. But not the third, or the fourth. He falls to his knees.

“Kal!” Kara calls out in his ears.

He shakes his head.

“Kal, get up!”

He tries to obey. Under him, his knees refuse to move. When the electrified knife comes for him, he does not know how he dodges it. A roll of his shoulder, a ripple of his suit. A lucky swing. The soldier falls to the ground with a cry. Shadow drags himself to his knees. Strikes her in the stomach with a baton while her partner passes overhead and crashes into the nearest wall. He is wearing a corporal’s uniform.

“Nightwing,” he tells Batman, gesturing to the woman even as he tries to hold her to the ground, “the data—”

“You have a bigger problem,” Kara warns.

Inside the helmet, the bead display morphs into an arrow and the words ‘danger, multiple unknowns’.

“Shadow!” Batman barks as he catches the soldier’s electrified knife seconds before it hits Shadow in the face. “Pay attention!”

“There’s more coming,” Shadow gasps in return, head turning to the right again. “We need to go.”

“I have the sticks.”

Batman pulls the woman’s handcuffs off her belt and forces her wrists into them. The man, still struggling to even sit up, they leave alone as they hurry out of the dead end, only for a loud, angry cry to echo through the streets.

“Shit,” Batman hisses.

From the corners of his eyes, Shadow counts six soldiers—three Ellons, three Kandori—and swears in turn before he catches Batman’s cape and they take off into a mad dash through the streets.

“We have to get to the roofs,” Batman yells.

Shadow does not answer. There is not enough breath left in him for it. He runs, lungs burning, legs aching, arms screaming, and prays to Rao to send something, anything to help them—prays to Vohc to spare Batman, at least, to leave El and Krypton a fighting chance in the near future. What he gets instead is a long series of bright blue riffle lights, and a piece of stone crashing into his helmet as he drags Batman into the nearest side street, relief coursing through him when he spots an emergency ladder, eight feet up in the air.

“Support,” he gasps as he steps into Batman’s hands to reach the bottom of the ladder, “we’re going to need extraction!”

“You had reinforcement this whole time?” Batman exclaims under him.

“I have your position,” Kara retorts, a rustling sound echoing behind her, “but you need to get to the mountains!”

“On the way,” Shadow manages.

Every inch of him protests when he jumps from the roof he and Batman emerged on to the next, muscles straining past what he ever thought was possible; but they have no other choice. He has no other choice. Every gap between houses is too wide, every roof too slick—but still he jumps, and catches himself, and scrambles up because if he does not, he will die. Roofs explode around them, the militia’s rifles blasting ancient walls into rubble, and with every one of them Shadow’s panic rises, his heart beats faster, his jumps grow messier.

“Nearly there,” Batman shouts.

He must have guessed where they are going. Shadow nods under his helmet. Pants, gasps, scrambles to the very last roof, and, without hesitation, dives into the air. The suit rearranges around him, carries him farther than he could ever have hoped to go on his own. Shadow shouts in joy when a bug lands less than a yard away from them, the bright blue of its engines shining like a small sun in the night.

“Shadow, get down!”

There is the dull sound of a body throwing itself to the ground. A bright blue flash, from behind. Shadow falls, the breath stolen from his lungs. Behind him, a cry of triumph, and then the shrill scream of sound cannons echoing over the mountains. Shadow gasps, tries to breathe, to shield his ears, to move, but he can’t, he can’t, it hurts too much, he can’t—

He cries out again when Batman seizes him. The world falls away, the loud, harsh sound of his ragged breathing filling his helmet until he can’t hear anything else. His vision goes gray, then black, then gray again. By the time he manages to focus on anything else, he is lying on the ground at the back of the bug, wind screaming past him through the open doors. Overhead, Batman is pawing at his shoulders, his neck.

“Come on,” he growls, something odd in his tone, “there has to be a way—”

“Excuse me,” Kal says, forgetting to adopt Shadow’s lower timbre, “may I help you?”

Batman freezes. Stares at Kal’s helmet through the cowl, hands and mouth gone slack. Kal coughs, and orders the suit to initiate its wound management protocol. He yelps when the first nanobots gather on the burnt flesh itself, hissing and biting his lip as the pilot tells them they are only five minutes away from their departure point.

“Departure point?” Batman asks.

Kal barely hears him through the rush of his blood in his ears. Half his skin crawls with the rippling movement of the suit, nanobots pulling away from unnecessary areas—his batons, first, then his helmet—to put pressure on the wound and reinforce the armature around Kal’s legs, his lower back. His head falls back and hits the ground when he loses support to his neck.

“No—ow—no material in—”

“But the Palace!” Batman shouts—Kal think he hears their pilot gasp. “There must be a doctor, a—anyone! You cannot have been working without some kind of safety—”

“Support—on the way,” Kal manages, struggling to keep his eyes open now that the blood loss is making itself known. “Not a doctor.”

“Then someone else!” Batman hisses.

Again, that tension in his words. Something in his voice...if Kal did not know better, he would be tempted to call it anguish. On Kal’s behalf. How unexpected.

“It’s okay,” Kal says, distantly relieved when his voice remains steady.

He knew this could happen. From the very first day, he knew. There is no surprise, here, except the absence of tears in his voice, the utter dryness at the corners of his eyes. Perhaps it is the pain that swallows them. Perhaps his body, trying so hard to pull him into oblivion, does not have the strength for them. Regardless, his voice is steady, and it remains steady when he says:

“I’ve been curious about Earth for a long while now.”

A short silence, while Batman absorbs Kal’s words and then, in English:

“You utter reckless idiot!”

“Batman—”

“Do not ‘Batman’ me!” Batman almost shouts, back to Ellon now. “What kind of stupid idea—”

The bug lands, lurching to a stop with a hiss as its grips anchor it to the mountainside. Inside the suit, Kal’s entire left side throbs, and he loses himself in the pain.

He opens his eyes to a higher ceiling and no wind, no smell of grass, no red moonlight around him. There is the soft feeling of a mattress under him and, to the right, someone tall and blonde working the controls of a healing pod. The suit still presses down on the wound, but even with it Kal’s vision remains frightfully gray. With a terrible effort, he gasps, and Kara turns—she pushes one last lever and, in a hiss of machinery, strides toward Kal and stands by his bedside. Her cheeks glisten.

“I was afraid you would leave without saying goodbye,” she says with a shiver in her voice. “Not that they should be very long—you have lost rather a lot of blood.”

There is a loud click, and the cot under Kal buzzes to life, the vibration strong enough to make him wince—to make him gasp, grasping for a breath that isn’t there, that won’t come, and his eyes widen with fear. Kara’s hand on his brow feels warm, almost too warm, and Kal leans into the touch with a sigh. He wants to stroke Kara’s hand—to hold her fingers one last time, but when he tries it feels like his arm has turned into a mix of lead and rubber, and all he succeeds in doing is making his hand flop out of the bed. He heaves a breath in.

“Kara….”

Kara’s face, haloed in golden blond in a sea of dark greens and near-black grays, squeezes tight, her eyes shining. Her hand leaves a burning trail from Kal’s forehead to his cheek.

“Oh, Kal,” she says, and breathes in hard.

Under him, the cot vibrates harder, and someone moans. It takes Kal a moment to realize that it is him.

“Batman is starting the ship, now,” Kara says the effort she makes to keep her voice steady pitching it much higher than normal. “Kryo will help him pilot. You will only have to say in the pod and heal.”

There will be no last look at Krypton, then. No sight of the mountains from above; no image of the Citadel, red against the darkness of El’s mountains, to treasure in Kal’s exile. Kal tries to take a breath—it feels like swallowing seawater and makes his throat tight, makes his eyes hurt. For the first time tonight, tears come to him, unbidden.

“You will be fine,” Kara says above him. “You will survive, and you will heal. And you will write to me.”

“Kara,” Kal manages.

It is more whine than word and it hurts—it hurts so much, tearing at the back of his throat, squeezing his lungs. Tears burn at his temples, tracing a searing path from his eyes to his hairline, and when Batman and the anonymous pilot come to move Kal’s bed toward the pod, panic seizes every last inch of him.

“Kara,” he repeats, “please, I don’t—”

His throat closes before he can finish his sentence, but she understands, Kal is sure of it. For years, Kal has told himself leaving Krypton would be a boon, his one chance at building a better life for himself. The only way for him to find a place he could fit and belong in. Now that moment is here and his heart recoils—clings to the steep slopes and the sharp edges of El’s mountains, the red light of the two moons. The northern winds, cold and deadly, and the smell of elderfir on the warm air of summer nights. Countless days spent sitting on a balcony, looking at El from above and pretending he could see Ul, far in the South. There will be no more of that for Kal, no more of anything; and here, at last, at the edge of leaving, he finds himself sobbing for a loss he never truly believed would pain him.

“Be safe now,” Kara tells him as the two men transfer Kal onto the pod’s bed. “Be happy, if you can.”

She presses a bruising kiss to Kal’s forehead, and he wants to answer—wants to look at her one last time and keep this, at least, in his heart. There are too many tears in his eyes now, fear gripping his heart too tight to leave room for anything else, and he squeezes his eyelids shut against the bright white light of the pod.

The last he sees of Kara is barely more than a small blonde dot in his peripheral vision.

[fyeahwonderbat]

In the Middle of a Broken Constellation

Previous Title: In Another Life (Prologue) Pairing: WonderBat (Wonder Woman x Batman) Rating: 14A / T Universe: N/A - Reader’s Choice

Her fingers ran along the space bar of the JLA’s computer as she mindlessly walked the length of the desk. Screens were lit up with different news outlets, covering a multitude of stories, but none that required the involvement of the League. No, they needed to pick and choose when to dabble in the problems of the world. But she couldn’t deny the itch that crawled beneath her skin, beneath her civilian attire when she wished she was dressed for battle, begging her to find something to occupy her worried mind. Something beyond the antiques of her day job that reminded her of her origins, something more tantalizing that could give her heroine heart a newfound reason for its unsteady rhythm.

Though if the truth be told, there was most likely nothing in the world as occupying as the fear nestled inside of her for the past week or so.

“Huh.” A soft sound of surprise echoed in her ear from across the room. Mildly curious as to who could be lurking, her upper body twisted ever so gently so she could look into the eyes of none other than Kal-El, wearing the facade of Clark Kent.

Uninspired to answer, she waited for him to elaborate upon his one word note.

A smile befell his chiseled face, softening his expression to a childlike degree, as he elaborated. “I never would have took Wonder Woman for a worrier.”

That remark gave her pause. “Maybe Wonder Woman isn’t, but Diana has been known to feel nervous over many things.”

“Such as?” Asked Superman, lending her his Metahuman ear to listen to her woes. The way he walked into the computer room was much more sincere than his opening comment had made him out to be and it allowed her to see the sincerity in his intentions. A knot she hadn’t known was resting her back began to loosen as she watched him approach the desk. Her breaths were lighter one she was able to drop her shoulders, Diana noticed immediately.

“I’m sure you know the struggle - balancing your personal life with the life of a hero.” She sought empathy from him, not sympathy or pity. It seemed inevitable that, of all people, Kal could provide her with that.

The way he placed his hands on his hips wasn’t domineering. Instead, it seemed as though he was trying to steady himself as if the reminder of his double life added more weight onto his back. “It’s definitely something that took some getting used to. Especially when I had to learn the difference between when it’s appropriate for Superman to save the day and when only Clark should.”

The curious expression that crossed her face was much too honest and oh so swift that she couldn’t reign her emotion in before he saw it.

Chuckling, he offered an example of what he was trying to get across to her. “When people like us want to help, it feels natural to dive in and use whatever powers we have at our disposal if it means we can save someone from some tragedy. Coming into my powers, I was terrified of what made me different from the people around me. But as I got older, I had to teach myself that even though I had all of these unique gifts that I used when I was Superman, there were still things that only Clark Kent could accomplish on his own, with even just his words.”

The longer he spoke, the more Diana realized what he was getting at. When he came into the room, he had already surmised the cause of her melancholy and was merely trying to approach her in a way that sounded neutral and unassuming.

But he was one of the loudest people at the Founder meeting that took place nearly two weeks ago, and his words had done quite a lot of damage when he was dressed in his Kryptonian attire.

It was tricky to decide whether or not she wanted to call him out on his underlying intention or if she should let the facade of kindness he wore stay in tack. “How do you do it, then?”

Clark seemed taken aback by her question and he grew a tad sheepsih. “I wouldn’t presume to think I had something to teach you about living with humans, Diana. I know you’ve survived a great deal on your own.”

“Perhaps I missed the point of the story.” She mused, hoping she didn’t offend him by admitting such a thing outright.

Kal straightened and took her confusion as a challenge. “What I meant was, I understand that it can feel as though there are things you want to fix in the world when you’re already known as a superhero to people. There’s a type of indescribable restraint that it takes to not lord yourself over others when you think you have the answer to all of their problems. Choosing when to be inactive, I think, is one of a superhero’s greatest and most underappreciated skills.”

“Even when the person you want to lord over is considered a superhero themselves?”

The shock on his face was nothing like the nearly smug expression she had seen him wear when he was standing in the doorway, trying to get her attention moments ago. He was startled that she had seen through his coy demeanour and it rendered him a tad embarrassed. “Well, I… had imagined that you were just as concerned as I was about him.”

“And the fact that we haven’t seen him since,” That was the first time she spoke her greatest concern aloud and it instantaneously amplified her anxiety. But Diana hoped that if she reacted fast enough, she could keep Kal from feeling the same touch of fear. “Are you saying that you’re considering going to see him, in Gotham?”

She might have been the first to speak of his plan out loud too, as Kal seemed as though he was suddenly eager to fly through the roof if it meant putting his plan into motion. “I think Bruce could understand why we’d visit him now. We gave him weeks to solve the problem or even provide us with an explanation as to what this sludge could be, but he’s been ghosting us since that meeting.”

Diana felt her vision become unfocused as she fell into her memories and recalled that powerful clash for the umpteenth time since it had happened.

“It’s spreading, Batman.” The Flash’s announcement was for the entire room of the founding members to hear, but his stare bore into the lenses on Bruce’s cowl.

Seated at the round table in the midst of the hall sat the original six members of the Justice League. Diana’s position allowed for her to see the silent rage that barely stayed beneath the surface of Barry’s maskless face, the grinding of his teeth visible in the corners of his jaw. Given that Bruce sat to her right, and that he was fully dressed in his costume, she couldn’t make out his reaction to the obvious anger being directed towards him.

The air he emanated, however, implied that Bruce was much too focused to offer any type of apology. “Where?” Was all he said in response, making the room much more tense than it needed to be.

“To Central City!” He bellowed as he tossed a newspaper into the center of the table from the Central City PIcture News. No one reached to read the paper, as Bruce had briefed them all on the sludge vaguely last week. Diana remembered him mentioning how it was turning Gothamites into monsters, how it had infiltrated the sewage to the city.

And with the floods happening across the country this summer...

“Metropolis, too.” As if the meeting wasn’t verging on dangerous territory, Superman chimed in with a tone that implied he was just as furious as Barry was.

All Diana could do was watch as Bruce looked over at Kal, silent and observing, assessing how best to respond to the fury of two Metahumans. Nevertheless, she wasn’t at all surprised to hear that he chose to honour his own feelings when he said, “Oracle and I have been analyzing the sludge repeatedly, and even though we haven’t found an antidote yet, we think that--”

“Oh, come on!” Barry leapt out of his seat and banged a fist on the table.

“Barry.” Cyborg chided gently, trying to help his friend stay calm and collected.

But The Flash’s mind was racing too fast for him to listen to any advice. “People in my city are now transforming into these...boil-covered creatures, and there’s still nothing else you can tell us? We gave you time to solve this - I trusted that you and your computer whiz would be able to take care of this.”

“Right,” Bruce bit out. “When it was only my problem.”

That response froze the room momentarily as the implication was processed. Then, it was Cyborg’s turn to stand and take The Flash’s side. “Now hold on, Batman. You won’t let us help you. You’ve barred all of us from entering Gotham City unless you call us yourself. That’s why it was only your problem.”

Despite their rising stance against him, Bruce remained seated next to Diana, which was the only method of his that she approved of. Then, he removed any and all faith she had in him when he shot back, “I let you examine the sludge.”

The pure disbelief shown on the humanistic side of Victor’s face was rooted in disgust. As if Bruce couldn’t disillusion the League anymore than he had in the past, it seemed with every new conflict, he found another method with which to destroy some of his own good standing. “And I told you it was complex, but that there was something ancient found in the compound that I couldn’t read.”

“So then I took it to Oracle” - this was the moment the Batman rose from his chair and stood tall against his fellow Founders - “and we are working on it. You can examine the sample I gave you again, or give it to The Flash, if you want. But I can’t make the answer magically appear in front of me, so perhaps you should sit down and let us finish this meeting.”

The aggression, the fear, the relentless stance against the Batman, there was something behind Barry’s rebellion, Victor’s addition. With the sludge spreading to other major cities in the United States, to places that mattered to the League, it meant that there was a goal with this argument and it dawned on Diana suddenly.

So, she stated it as diplomatically as she could. “They can’t move forward with the meeting until they have some hope of helping their people, Batman. They want to help you locate the source of the sludge in Gotham--”

“Absolutely not.”

“Are you serious!?” Barry screeched. This time when he threw his fist down, the lightning that accompanied his powers sparked around his hand when he crashed into the table, nearly knocking it into the ground. Now, all six of them stood as Arthur caught the curve of it on his lap and winced. He glared at The Flash as he stood, to which he received a gentle, “Sorry.”

However, Arthur didn’t focus on him. Instead he shook his head and directed his irritation towards Bruce too. “You are such a piece of work, Batman. This problem is bigger than you now. Get over yourself and let us help you.”

“You can’t honestly expect us to standby and wait for you, do you?” Clark’s voice was firm, his mouth a flat line of disappointment on his face. “We can’t simply tell the citizens of our cities to sit back and wait. They put their faith in us and if we have nothing to tell them, it could cause hysteria the longer this problem drags on.”

But to counter his point, Bruce argued. “How do you think I’ve been handling this mess so far?” His voice was clipped, his stance strong, but he stood alone against four other members of the Justice League and all Diana could do was watch. She agreed that they should be allowed entry to Gotham City but adding her voice to the frey when she had no city to worry about like the other Founders did was an unnecessary addition to the catastrophe that was this meeting.

Then, the catastrophe imploded. Clark raised his left hand and determined for them all, “We should bring it to a vote.”

The anger Barry had showcased was nothing compared to the unadulterated outrage coming from the Batman next to her. “NO!” He screamed, he demanded, but his defiance fell on deaf ears.

“I agree,” Was The Flash’s obvious answer, but he chose to elaborate. “Now that Iris’ father has been infected, I can’t let your obsessive, control freak behaviour stand between me and a cure. I vote we go to Gotham.”

“Stop this! This isn’t how we work!” Bruce fought back as if he was about to snap and lose complete control over himself.

But Cyborg still remained as calm as could be as he lifted his left hand as well. “Then how do we work? Are we supposed to let you dictate how we save the world? If you were in Superman’s or The Flash’s shoes right now, you know they’d let you into their cities if it meant saving everyone. How come you get to decide the fate of thousands of people like this?”

Diana felt those were fair counter arguments for Bruce to consider, but the seething she heard was nearly carnal, and much like an animal being backed into a corner, he only cared about fighting for himself. “If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t even be here! You wouldn’t have all of my technology, my resources, everything you need to save the day that you didn’t have before. And this is the thanks I get!?”

“Dammit Batman, you know this isn’t about you!” That was the moment in which Kal lost control of his words. Like the force of nature he was, he couldn’t contain himself as he went after his best friend. “You always do this - you take on more than you can handle and make things more complicated than they need to be! There are five us of here offering you our help and you’re so painfully stubborn that you could end up costing people their lives, all so you can be the king of your castle! I always believed that your methods could be tolerated if it was for the betterment of other people but this is just insanity.”

Even Diana was stunned into silence by the way Kal read Bruce for the room. Their bond was like that of brothers, tumultuous and challenging at times but typically routed in commonality, in their hearts. For him to hurl such heated words at his closest friend, it could only mean that the strain of choosing between honouring their bond and honouring Metropolis waged war inside of him, and the latter desire won out.  

He most likely had to choose between respecting Bruce’s wishes and worrying for Lois’ safety.

That was yet another reason why she could think clearly as the other members fought around her - not only had she no city to protect, but she also had no one specifically to fear for.

Nothing drove her beside her desire to simply protect everyone, including an angry bat from the clutches of his fellow Founders.

But her opinion mattered not. After a lengthy pause that only allowed the visceral energy stew around the circular table, Bruce detonated. “Everyone here knows Superman is weak to Kryptonite, and I know at least one weakness for every single one of you too. If you come anywhere near Gotham City, be ready for a fight that you won't walk away from alive.”

And with a dramatic toss of his cape, Batman departed from the Founders Meeting without any concern for the shouts and protests that chased him out. Prideful to the very end, he most likely headed directly for the teleporter to take him back to his BatCave, away from all the supposed resources there at the JLA headquarters, ready to return to work in the privacy of his sanctuary. Diana sighed heavily as she sat amongst the bickering men, praying to every Greek god she could think of in the hopes that the confrontation she had just sat through was the worse that this mysterious, destructive sludge could do to them.

As her memory of the altercation whipped by, Diana cringed internally when she recalled the threats that Bruce had made. It was so very dramatic, which was signature Batman behaviour, but after all of the work that was put into forming the Justice League, it seemed so very asinine to her that he would demolish everything for the sake of his sovereignty.

“If the sludge hadn’t begun to retreat on its own,” Kal seemed prepared to answer a question she had yet to ask. “I would have hunted this Oracle down myself, to really see if they could give us the answers we were searching for.”

“The sludge disappeared?” Diana inquired with evident astonishment.

When he nodded, he looked as though he wasn’t entirely appeased. “Shortly after that meeting, yeah. There are still people infected by it, but quarantining them is no longer a major concern, since their numbers aren’t increasing. The real emergency is the fact that we had to shut off the water to the city. Aquaman is helping us collect the sludge in order to contain what’s out there, but if only we had the antidote - if we could add it to our water filtration systems to guarantee that Metropolis and Central City are safe too, then we can move beyond this mess.”

The longer he went on for, the deeper his frown sank. This conversation was proving Kal’s earlier point, whether or not he intended for his words to do so. There was absolutely nothing that Superman could do right now to identify the cure for the infection that had transformed innocent people into these abominations. If there was, he would have solved the matter by now. But given that neither Barry’s forensics degree or Victor’s expansive technological mind could provide any kind of solution, all of the powers in all of the world that Superman possessed were rendered useless in a crisis such as this.

Only Kal-El, Clark Kent himself had a chance of appealing to the heart of Bruce Wayne in the hopes of getting his hands on an antidote.

Would Bruce really be so spiteful as to withhold a cure from defenceless people because of how his fellow Founders offended his pride?

There was only one way to find out.

Diana rose to her feet and offered her friend a confident smile in the hopes of lifting his spirits. “Then for the sake of your people - and the hope of ending this petty feud - I say we visit Bruce, immediately.”

That was what Kal had implied he had wanted the entire time they had been talking, and yet, there was a wide-eyed moment that made Diana wonder if he was genuinely terrified of Bruce, more so than he was scared for the citizens of Metropolis and Central City.

Thankfully, he let the moment pass and nearly flew out of his seat. “And we talk to him in smaller numbers.” Was Kal’s way of insinuating that they didn’t need anyone else aside from the two of them to handle the Batman.

Diana tried her best not to chuckle at such an obvious detail to their plan. “I think having the two of us go is already a recipe for disaster.”

“Well, if Bruce is still stewing, then neither of us will be gentle with one another, yeast of all, me.”

For the first few seconds, as they walked towards the teleporter down the hall, neither of them spoke. But Diana couldn’t stop herself from finding some amusement in the awkwardly timed pun and snickered against her better judgement. “What on Earth…?”

“I thought that was well timed, since we were using food-related phrases anyway. And being a farm boy from Smallville, I know how to handle my wheat.” There was no shame in his voice, but rather, pride. Given that there weren’t many opportunities to see such a humorous side to any of her fellow heroes, least of all the almighty Superman, the rarity of the moment was most likely coaxed a laugh out of her.

Still, the absurdity of his comedy was the perfect elixir to her rather pensive mood.

Feeling lighter than air for the first time in a week, Diana was more than excited to carry on their silly conversation. “I didn’t know you were from Smallville. I just assumed you had always lived in Metropolis.”

“Really? Well, once this is all over, I’ll have to take you by the farm. I’m sure Ma would love to meet you.”

“I’d love that too.”

“Just be ready to eat.” Now, it was his turn to laugh, as if his warning was much more sinister than one might assume.

Having seen more of Kal on the battlefield than she had in any personable sense, Diana felt as though it was so much easier to relate to him in this state. They were both improbable powerhouses for the League - mythological-like figures that people either revered or feared - but they each had a softer, more mortal heart beneath their durable skin. This insight into his personality when his defences were down wasn’t a surprise per se, but it was most definitely endearing.

The humming of the charged teleporter drew them out of the moment, ever so slowly. As Kal made a beeline for the control panel, typing in their coordinates with ease as if he had studied the BatCave’s entry code many times before, Diana walked directly onto the awaiting platform. She felt the light that illuminated the teleporter rise along her thighs and cling to her skin, holding her, keeping her place as if she needed to complete the journey into Gotham. Admittedly, she was concerned about Bruce’s inevitable reaction - there was an undeniable anticipation for shouting and insults and perhaps a small brawl she’d have to break up between the boys - but the silence from his end was ultimately much more unnerving.

When Kal stepped onto the platform, it began to rumble, ready to break them down and rebuild them in the Batcave. In fact, it was only a matter of three blinks, and Diana wasn’t in the JLA Headquarters any longer.

And almost instantly, Diana lifted her arms to thwart a metal weapon’s course after it was mysteriously thrown at her with deadly intentions.

“Diana!” Kal screamed, then lit up his eyes and fired his heat vision in the direction the attack had come from. The BatCave was nearly pitch black when they had entered and it made them an easy target for whomever it was that was lurking in the shadows. From behind her bracelets, her gaze fell to the ground and examined the object thrown at her…

A Batarang!?

“Wait!” Diana threw her arm out in front of Kal’s chest in order to stop him in his tracks. He obeyed her word of caution and drew the yellow sun’s energy back into his body. However, that only opened them to another attack and another pair of Batarangs flew at each of their chests. Someone was intending to kill them, and use Bruce’s weapons to do it!

That was the moment when Diana decided to give into her Amazonian strength. After worrying herself sick for a week about Bruce, taming her nerves in order to keep herself in line and respect his space, they arrive in his secret base just to be assaulted?

It was time to lord herself over whoever thought it was wise to challenge her.

She bent her knees ever so subtly, then pushed off of her heels and flew through the air at their assailant. Instead of Batman’s weaponry, their attacker switched to their own arsenal and sent a barrage of throwing knives her way but such primitive weapons were no match for someone of her calibur. She swatted them away like flies before coming to land against the cavern wall, tossing her body through the air so she could plant her feet against it instead of her fists.

As Diana spun her head around to take off again, Diana’s instinct caught onto the fist that was sailing right towards her jaw. She held up her palm to easily stall the punch, then clamped her hand around it with a vengeful grip.

“Ow, ow, ow!” Hissed her hidden enemy, just before she tossed them over her shoulder and stomped her Amazonian boot onto their chest, pinning them effortlessly to the ground. If not for their constant whining, she might have applied more pressure. “I give! I give!”

“Next time,” Kal’s tone was firm and unapproving as he stomped over to when she held their secret enemy down. “I would recommend you lead with something friendlier.”

The mysterious person’s face and voice were muffled by their mask, but their condescending chuckle was impossible to miss. “Riiight, because coming in here without any warning was so polite of you, too.”

Diana was prepared to lean over her leg and apply more pressure to her heel with the weight of her body. “When you’re friends with the person who owns the place and have worked here yourself, it’s not so impolite when you stop by.”

A colony of bats cried out as they scattered throughout the cave, just as the presumably male captive beneath her boot flailed wildly on the BatCave’s floor. It appeared as though his only hope was to remove the contraption on his head, revealing his face to the pitch black hideaway. “Wait, there are people who consider themselves friends with Bruce?”

“Yes.” Was Diana’s sharp reply.

“Okay then, even though I can only kinda trust you,” muttered the mystery man as he shoved her heel off of his chest. He scrambled to stand while Diana tried to regain her composure, unimpressed with herself for allowing herself to behave so rashly in the face of such a meager attack. No one had access to the BatCave except for those that Bruce trusted, so she knew that her behaviour was unacceptable. Taking a deep breath, she waited for their potential ally to wander over to the computer screen and turn it on, providing the cool cavern with some kind of warm light. Then, they came face to face with the individual that they should have assumed was their attacker. “Let’s get to know one another. I’ll go first, since I am the reigning member of the BatClan apparently. Hi, I’m Jason. Who the hell are you?”

((Whaaat!? Jason!? I actually didn’t intend for him to be in this chapter, but I think it makes it much more interesting than what I had planned. I hope you’re enjoying this story, and look forward to next Monday’s update! ~ Maiden))

[justauthoring]

Telling You The Truth

@luluio1017 requested: Could i have an Ezra Barry x reader where theyre the first person he opens up to about his powers that isnt part of the league (sorry if thats vague i just think the idea is cool)

Pairing: Ezra Miller!Barry x Reader

Warnings: none.

REQUESTS ARE CLOSED!

You weren’t exactly sure why Barry had called you over - it was late and it was almost like something was wrong by the tone is Barry’s voice. Despite it being so early in the morning and the fact that you had been asleep already when he called you, the moment you heard the high-pitch panic in his voice, you’d jumped up from your bed and hurried over.

You’d only managed to throw on one of his sweatshirts and jeans before leaving, and within a few minutes you found yourself outside Barry’s small little hideout. You raised your hand to knock but the door swung open before you could and the moment the door opened, Barry pulled you inside. You gasped at the fast movement, nearly tripping over your own two feet but catching yourself and as you spun around, Barry looked just as nervous as he’d sounded.

“Barry,” you panted, looking tired and worried at the same time. “What’s wrong? Why did you call me so early?”

He paced - which was something you’d never seen the boy do before - and he was biting his lip. You patiently waited for him to spit out whatever it was that was bothering him, and eventually took a seat on his small bed and watched him pace. “I have to tell you something.” he finally spoke. “Something that I never wanted to tell you, for your sake, but now I have to.”

His words worried you, they were extremely vague and you had no idea what Barry could be talking about. You’d always thought the two of you had told each other everything, but not apparently there was something he’d been keeping a secret and before today had been planning on doing so forever? Your heart raced with nerves as you watched Barry stop to turn to you, you had absolutely no idea what he was going to say.

“Say something.” Barry added when he noticed your silence.

Biting your lip, your eyes widened; “uh- okay. Barry...” You trailed off, unsure about your next words. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

Upon your reassurance Barry took one more deep breath before making his way over to you, only you never actually saw him walk to you. One minute he was across the room and the next directly in front of you. You could feel your hair blow black from the impossible speed he’d moved at and your eyes widen as they met his own. “What-” You stumbled for something to say, unsure if you even knew what to say. “How- what?”

Barry still looked nervous but with an eased gentleness he took your hands in his own. “I was struck by lightning and ever since then i’ve been able to run really fast and conjure up electrical energy.” Barry’s words blew you away - had you heard him correctly?

With a dumbfounded expression, you stared at him; “what?”

Barry sighed, and a smile hinted on his lips. “Stand up.” He softly ordered, tugging on your clasped hands. Hesitantly you followed his instructions and before you knew it, Barry had picked you up and you were on the other side of the room. You panted heavily, despite not even moving on your own, and once you were on your own two feet again you stared around you. “Barry...” You breathed; “how in the world...”

“I told you.”

You were silent a moment, looking around and seeing the distance you’d travelled in less than a second before gazing back over at Barry. “How long have you had this? Why- Why did you never tell me?”

“I never told you because I was scared for your safety - whatever happened to me... wasn’t normal and this power, people could hurt you.”

You understood his reasoning, there was enough danger in the world already. But; “why now?”

“I’m apart of this team,” Barry explained; “Batman brought us together to defeat evil and help the world. I wanted to tell you myself before you found out elsewhere.”

“Hold up-” You held up your hand, staring baffled at Barry - which is what he seemed to keep doing. “Did you just say Batman?”

“Yeah.” Barry laughed.

You threw your hands up in the air, laughing sarcastically; “my boyfriends friends with Batman.” You repeated to yourself incredulously, turning and walking away from Barry. “Jesus Christ, my boyfriend fights crime with Batman!” You head Barry chuckle and turning around you were met with him before you, wrapping his arms around your waist. You felt the mood dim as he looked worriedly down at you.

“You’re okay?”

Nodding, you smiled; “more than okay.”

[ragingbookdragon]

A League Of Her Own

A Wondersis One-Shot

Word Count: 1.4K Warnings: None

Author's Note: I guess I now have to put a "Wonderfamily" portion in my DC Masterlist! Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

“And this! Dear sister! Is where my team and I meet to save the world!”

Her eyes were wide with wonder and awe, gazing around the room as she breathed, “Diana, you save the world here? Every day?”

Diana shrugged. “It is mostly every day. We typically arrive to the Watchtower when one of us has a mission.” She grinned. “It is usually Batman who calls us.”

Her head swiveled. “Batman? Is he here?” She smiled, taking Diana’s hands. “Oh, I so wish to meet all your friends! The Flash and Green Lantern and Superman and—”

“Peace, (Y/N),” Diana giggled. “I shall introduce you to them all.”

(Y/N)’s smile only widened. “You cannot blame me for being so excited sister. You come home and tell me stories of your adventures and it is all I can do to be—” she cut herself off with a gasp, pointing to something in the corner. “WHAT IS THAT!”

Her sister merely watched bemusedly as (Y/N) sped over to the machine, poking and prodding it. “That is an ice cream machine.”

“How does it work?” she questioned, and Diana walked to her side, grabbing a cup from the side before putting it under the nozzle.

“Like this.” She pulled the lever and couldn’t help but laugh as (Y/N)’s eyes widened, head cocking sideways as she watched the frozen treat swirl in the cup.

“Amazing,” she breathed, and Diana handed her the cup along with a spoon.

“This is chocolate ice-cream. Be careful not to—”

(Y/N) stuck a giant spoonful in her mouth, eyes widening as she blurted. “Iss o old!”

“Sister,” Diana sighed with amusement. “I tried to warn you.”

“Old—old—old,” she whined, snapping her mouth shut, and her expression morphed into joy as she swallowed. (Y/N) shoved the cup in her sister’s face. “This is fantastic! Who created this? I must congratulate them!”

Diana fell to pieces in laughter, her sister puffing her cheeks. “Why are you laughing at me, Diana! I am being completely serious!”

“I know you are, but the inventor is…no longer alive.”

(Y/N)’s lips pulled downwards. “How sad!” she stuck the spoon back in her mouth, holding out her hand. “Ow e ore!” Diana grinned and took her hand, leading her around.

***

Some twenty minutes later, the two women were walking down the hall when (Y/N) suddenly stopped, unbeknownst to Diana, who kept talking. “You would never know the Watchtower was up here. We have the ability to—(Y/N)?”

She turned, glancing at her sister who was staring out one of the bigger windows, eyes big and round with awe, mouth open slightly; her hands were pressed tight to her stomach. “Sister?” Diana worried, walking back. “Is everything alright?”

(Y/N) glanced at her, ushed tears in her vision. “The world…it is…beautiful.”

Diana’s face eased from concern to warmth as she wrapped her arms around (Y/N), resting her head on her sister’s shoulder. “It is.”

“I never would have believed I would be able to see it in its entirety like this. I am overcome with such emotion.”

“It is love.”

(Y/N) nodded. “Yes. It is.” She reached up and wiped her eyes. “I also have an urge to paint this wondrous masterpiece.”

Diana laughed. “I do not know if the Watchtower could hold the beauty your painting would produce.”

“You flatter me, sister.”

“Nonsense, I speak the truth.” She pulled away, glancing down the hall. “If you will excuse me for just a moment. I need to use the restroom.”

“Of course,” she nodded. “I will wait here for you.”

(Y/N) watched Diana walk off before turning back to the window, stepping up to it; she raised a hand and rested the tips of her fingers on the glass, feeling the chill on her skin. It was absolutely beautiful, the flow of the clouds against the bright blue water, along the green and tan of the lands. Her fingers itched to paint. To create. To weave and design tapestries that would remind her of this moment. All of it.

Someone’s arm fitted around her waist. “Hey Wonder Woman, you look absolutely beautiful in this light.”

She turned her head, seeing a brown-haired man with caramel eyes gazing at her. “Who are you?”

He blinked, eyes widening as he said, “You’re not Wonder Woman. Who are you?”

“My sister and I are two completely different women.” (Y/N) pulled from his grip. “But I asked you first. Speak or I shall drag the truth from you.”

“Is that a promise?” he flirted. “Because I totally have a thing for—NGH!”

His response was cut off by (Y/N) who yanked him forward by the arm and shoved him up against the window, pinning his arms behind him.

“Answer my question!” she shouted, shoving his arms up until he let out a grunt and raised on his toes to keep from feeling the pain.

“Hey! Easy! I need those arms!”

“You will need more than arms if you do not tell me who you are!”

“Hal Jordan!” he shouted. “I’m Green Lantern!”

(Y/N)’s eyes narrowed. “We shall wait for Diana to return to confirm that truth.”

“I’m telling you the truth!”

“And we shall see.”

Footsteps sounded from down the hall and she glanced over, seeing Diana coming down, a man in red and another in blue following.

“Sister!” she called out. “I have apprehended this man! He claims to be the Green Lantern!”

Diana sighed, dragging a hand down her face. “(Y/N)…Hal is.”

She looked at Diana, then to Hal, then back to Diana. “Truly? Him? He looks so…plain though?”

“Don’t sound so disappointed,” he muttered, cheek still smushed up against the glass; he glanced at the man in red. “Hey Barry.”

The man, Barry, snickered. “Having fun, Hal?”

“Oh, you know, this is just another Tuesday night for me.” He wiggled his fingers. “Is that your breastplate, pretty woman? It’s awfully cold. I’d be happy to warm it up for you.”

(Y/N) scowled, stepping away from his hands. “You are absolutely disgusting. Diana you cannot possibly work with such a lecher.”

Diana giggled at Hal’s outcry of offense. “You get used to him, sister.” She waved. “Now please, let him go. You’ll break the poor man’s arms.”

She did as Diana commanded, letting him go and Hal sunk back to the floor, shaking out his arms. “Damn, you’ve got a strong grip, pretty woman.”

“My name is not ‘pretty woman’,” she griped. “I am Princess (Y/N) of Themyscira.”

Hal grinned at her. “Pleasure you meet you, Princess.”

(Y/N)’s lip curled, and she turned her attention to Diana. “Are all men like this?”

“Thankfully, no,” her sister said, placing hands on both Barry and the man in blue’s backs. “May I introduce Barry Allen the Flash and Clark Kent, who is Superman.”

(Y/N)’s disgust fell away to happiness as she stepped up and hugged them both. “It is my honor to meet you both! Diana has talked about all of you in great detail.”

“Has she talked about me?” Hal questioned and she turned her head.

“No.”

“Darn shame. I’m a great conversation topic.”

She looked at Diana. “Is he always this arrogant?”

“No,” she shrugged. “Sometimes he is asleep.”

The sisters laughed whilst Hal pouted, and Barry asked, “Princess (Y/N), would you like to come to the cafeteria and eat some lunch?”

She smiled. “You may call me (Y/N), Barry. But yes, I would like to. That is, if Diana is coming too?”

“I would sister, but Clark was coming to get me for a meeting with Batman.” Diana excused, turning to Superman who nodded.

“We’re discussing some changes to the Watchtower communicators,” he said and (Y/N) merely smiled.

“I understand. We shall meet up later then.” Her eyes drifted to Barry’s. “Are you going with them?”

“Nope,” he said, popping his bottom lip. “Bruce said it was okay for me to skip out. He held out his arm. “May I escort you?”

Laughing, she looped her arm with his. “You may.” As she passed Hal, she held out her free arm. “Are you coming?”

He glanced at her. “I thought you didn’t like me?”

“It is too early to decide such a thing. Do I think you are a lecher? Absolutely. But that is merely my first opinion.” (Y/N) smiled. “I believe you will change it.”

Hal cracked a grin and looped his arm with hers. “See, if you really wanna change it, you should let me take you flying.”

“Oh? Like in a jet? Diana has one,” she chirped, letting the two men lead her down the hall.

“Of course in a jet. See there’s this place in Coast City—”

[avengerdragoness]

Sentence Starter Masterlist

Batfamily:

Jason Todd:

“You deserve a world without this”

"Guns? Ha! Last I remember, you had string bean arms!"

“It’s not that funny.”

“I know you liked it when they were hitting on you.” "If you would do it I would like it better" "Wait, what" "What"

"If you're not there when this baby comes, I'm going to take that gun, and shove it so far up your--"

"open it" "can you say please?"

"real smooth, tripping over air"

"Alright guys time to play truth or dare"

"well, that was... interesting"

"where have you been"

“You’re so cute when you’re half asleep like this…”

“If you shove cake in my face this will be the worst wedding night of your life.”

“After everything you did, you’re asking ME to apologize for snapping at you ONCE?”

"I know I said I’d get up with the kid in the morning but I’m hoping you can’t tell I’m fake sleeping and hoping you will do it instead"

"It helps that my competition is attractive."

“I’d die for you. Of course, I’d haunt you in the afterlife but really, it’s the thought that counts.”

"I bet I could beat you in wrestling match"

“It must be hard with your sense of direction, never being able to find your way to a decent pickup line.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to seduce me.”

"Yeah, because fighting crime wearing the colors of a traffic light is soooooo stealthy."

“I met your parents and your mom was flirting with me. "

"I am not jealous, I'm territorial. Jealous is when you what something you can't have, territorial is protecting what is yours."

"Get over here, Jason 'Crush Me With Your Thighs' Todd!"

"ITS PLATINUM!!!"

"Wait, you're not a virgin? do you even stay awake long enough for sex?"

"you can't just go around killing people"

"So tell me: do all vigilantes lurk or is this just a part of your unique charm?"

"Am I really gonna be a father to an actual human being?"

"Put the water balloon down."

“You’re cute when you’re angry.”

Dick Grayson:

“I did a pregnancy test.”

“You can’t banish me! This is my bed too!”

"What do you mean I can't stay up until 4 am reading? You've stayed up later risking your life in a ridiculous costume!"

"If you sing that song one more time I will fight you"

“I had a nightmare about you and I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

"I swear to god if you don't get off the chandelier right now"

"love first of all  if you're wearing that kilt to slag me off for me Irish heritage I'm not one fucking bit impressed and second KILTS ARE FUCKING SCOTTISH ugh but you do look the ride in it , i have to say wait there I'm posting a pic of it this gonna be great craic"

"IVE BEEN STANDING IN THIS SHOP FOR TWO FUCKING HOURS TRYING TO DECIDE BETWEEN SMARTIES OR SKITTLES DONT RUSH ME !"

“What do you want me to do with this?”

"You know you have to worst name ever"

"Where do you run off to every day?" 

Tim Drake:

“Is there a problem?” “Is there a special reason, as to why you’re wearing my shirt?”

"No, nothing's wrong, I was just fangirling, carry on."

"You should know by know that if you leave your cape laying around, I don't care if it's for 'superhero business', I'm going to wrap it around myself like a blanket."

“You drowned my makeup in water so I used my key to scratch all of your video game discs.”

"stop it, stop whatever the hell your doing"

'please stop staring at that stupid computer and talk to me'

"You're not meeting my boyfriend, Tim, because I'd like to date him a while before my brother kills him."

“This is your twentieth cup of coffee are you trying to break a world record or something?“

"I found you passed out, face down in a pile of coffee cups, are you ok?"

"You have to be cheating! No one is that good poker!"

"There's nothing wrong with taking a break"

"You should really get out of the house more, I almost attacked you thinking you were a vampire. And no patrol doesn't count, get some sunlight."

Damian Wayne:

“Damn, when did y/n get hot?”

"We’re camping and you think you lost the kid but they’re napping in the tent and I’m not telling you yet so you watch them better next time" 

"Damian, are you sure your dad is going to be ok with us sneaking a monkey into the Manor?"

“Before you decide to murder me, let me explain…”

“His ego is so visible; I can almost watch it grow.”

“When you love someone, you don’t just stop. Ever. Even when people roll their eyes or call you crazy… even then. Especially then!”

“Do you ever follow directions?”

"dami ..I can't find my reading glasses have you seen them ?"

"I was trained by the masters of the League of Assassins and Ra's Al Ghul himself I DO NOT SING"

"we are not going to steal someone's dog"

"i'm allowed to be obssesed with you, im your husband"

"Why is there a deer in the mansion."

"I'm better at handling swords than you"

“So that’s why you’re always gone... you’re fighting crime in tights...”

"Wait... are you actually trying to stab me with a spoon?"

"Do I have to?"

"Don't worry beloved my family will love you, if anything I'm worried about them scaring you off"

Batfam:

"Not to point out the elephant in the room, but is that a literal elephant in the room?"

                   <-------------------------------------------->

CW DC:

Barry Allen:

"Cisco I don't need you to hit on them for me."

"I don't care how much a speedster needs to eat, you touch my food, and we're going to have a problem."

"everyone can tell you lover her, it's obvious"

“im NOT jealous, but he was flirting with you"

"I'm so sorry to disturb you but....I ran out of toilet paper"

Wally West:

"you like her, don't you!" 

"I recognize that you have reached a decision, but given that it is a stupid ass decision I have elected to ignore it"

Oliver Queen:

"are you jerking off or did you just find another book?"

Mon-El:

"Are you really jealous of a dog?"

"Mon-El, stop trying to make me blush, you jerk!"

Winn Schott:

"Winslow Schott, you do *not* get to saw I'm 'crabby' right now. If I seem to be in a bad mood, it's because *someone* decided to drag all the way to the DEO, first thing in the morning before I had a chance to have breakfast, without actually giving me a reason!"

                   <-------------------------------------------->

DC (Other):

Billy Batson:

"I'll give you your precious hoodie back, if you say the magic word!"

"How hasn't Bruce Wayne adopted you yet?"

"So...what happened EXACTLY?"

"y'know when you sneak around like that to transform you look super shady right?"

"You snuck into my room in the middle of the night to tell me something that could've waited till morning, woke me up by tripping over a small pile of books, and almost broke the most expensive thing I own. Remind me again why I shouldn't immediately call the cops on my best friend?" 

                   <-------------------------------------------->

Young Justice:

Wally West:

"I'd like to remind everyone to refrain from eating my food"

"I think you're just jealous cause you don't have magic powers! Or maybe you don't believe cause your so dependent on your precious science to explain everything!"

"I don't speak science, think you can translate for us non-nerds?"

Bart Allen:

"You can't keep blaming yourself for what happened to him"

"I'm from the past...I knew your cousin"

"We're about to die!"/"Comes with the job!"/”You're not helping!"

"You can't be serious"

"Hey, could you help me go over these case files-...you do not have a shirt on..."

"Who do i look like, Batman?"

"How are you always late?"

"Give me back my book!! You better not spoil it!!!"

"YOU CAN SING?!?!?!?!"

"You look good in yellow"

"I promise to tell you where your snacks went, if you promise not to get mad."

“are you sure about this”

"please don’t make me say it" 

                   <-------------------------------------------->

Marvel:

The Avengers:

"oops they saw it, well surprise I guess!"

Peter Parker:

"Don't be such a nerd Parker, we need to keep this professional and intimidating."

"You're that Bug Boy Jamison keeps talking about"

"You're an arachnophobe?"

“You're gonna get me killed!"

"I dare you to kiss him."

"Explain your powers to me again"

"Could you just get me down from here?!"

"These aren't even quips! They're just bad puns!"

"I cannot believe you of all people got us detention! I always thought it would be me."

"There's no such thing as bad publicity!"

"So, what's up with BugBoy over there?"

Steve Rogers:

"When were you planning to let me know what happened?!"

                   <-------------------------------------------->

Voltron:

Shiro:

“I’m like 20% sure this plan will work. The other 80% means we could die horribly and violently, but honestly it’s a really solid plan.”

“You’re so determined to protect yourself and your feelings, but what about me?”

“How is my wife more badass than me?”

"i lost our baby"

“Are you hitting on me?”

"...Why did you throw confetti in my face?"

Lance:

“I’m starting an idiot jar. Any time you do or say anything idiotic, you have to put at least a dollar in it—more depending on how stupid the thing that you said or did was.”

"Please tell me you aren't washing a metal, mechanical, slightly magical lion with soap and water?"

“How did you even get that there?“

Keith:

"How in the world did I get you to like me back?"

“I thought it was a good idea at the time, but it now occurs to me that I was horribly wrong.”

“Oh my god! You’re in love with them!” "No, Dumb-ass I'm in love with you"

"I can't believe you talked me into this."

"Keith, I love you, you know I do, but *please* tell me you didn't actually jump out of an airlock to get your lion."

“Why are you staring at me like that?” 

                   <-------------------------------------------->

Criminal Minds:

Spencer Reid:

"i need you to breath in and out with me, this anxiety attack will pass, i......"

"I don't care what you think you know, Spence, I'm *not* ticklish!"

"God, I hate profilers! You can never keep a secret from one."

[easilydistractedandamused]

Chapter 3: A Real Life Ebenezer Scrooge

“Mr. Batson?” Sandra said approaching the door and she hadn’t been able to knock before the door swung open, causing her to hastily step back and would’ve almost tripped if Billy hadn’t placed his hands very firmly on her back to prevent that.

“Oh, Billy!” the bony old man said with a large grin that unnerved the thirteen year old who was more focused on helping Sandra straighten up. “I’ve missed you so much!” he cried out, pulling the preteen in for a hug that felt more like a bear trap in the child’s mind. “Thank you so much for bringing my nephew back to me, Mister Smith, miss Wilson,” he said to the two and Billy thought that was rude, because Sandra did most of the work but got so little of the credit

The old man ushered the three in, giving them drinks and offering them snacks.

“Oh no, we can’t stay long,” Sanda said, idly looking around the room but Billy knew from experience she was assessing and inspecting. If she thought for one second that his uncle couldn’t, or wouldn’t, take care of him properly he would be taken right back to the Vasquez’s. Unfortunately for Billy, she was too trusting in his opinion. How else would he have been placed in abusive homes? Than again, they had very convincing masks in place as much as he hated to admit it.

All too soon though, they had to leave as Billy not wanting to be here was not a factor in him staying here and even though he expected the smile to lessen and for uncle Ebenezer to tell him his plans with Billy, but his attitude hadn’t changed as he showed Billy his room.

It was small, smaller than his room at the Vasquez’s, but certainly large enough to live in comfortably. That small part of Billy he had never been able to squash down was saying that maybe he really did change his mind, really did regret it, but that was the part of him that got hurt every time. It was the stupid part of him that had far too much faith in people and caused him way too much pain

Making himself comfortable in the room, he tested the window and found he could easily slip onto the roof and sat up there for hours, basking in the warmth from the sun before slipping back in when it started to get dark.

Uncle E might be making food and he wouldn’t react well to Billy sitting on the roof. Whatever he had planned for him, he needed Billy alive.

Waiting until his uncle went to sleep, he slipped out of the house and into a far enough location to call out the name, turning on his communicator.

“You seem distracted. Is something going on in Gotham?” Clark asked Bruce in the Watchtower, noticing how he wasn’t performing monitor duty the way he usually did. He was usually far more focused than this and if he’d been Hal, Barry, or Shazam, he’d think the other man was bored but no, this was Bruce . Bruce didn’t bore easily. The man did stakeout for over 24 hours without moving from his perch.

“No, it’s...personal,” he said deciding his words carefully.

“Does it have to do with Damian?” he asked concerned as that was usually what that phrasing meant.

“No,” he answered and the door slip open, giving them a tail end of a conversation.

“...I swear man, he’s planning something,” Shazam was saying.

“I don’t know man, he’s your uncle. Maybe he’s just trying to apologize,” Victor said.

“You don’t know my uncle,” he said shaking his head. “I’m pretty sure he would’ve sold me into child enslavement if he thought he could get away with it,” he said and Victor stared at him for a long moment.

“So this is where you get your trust issues from,” he finally said, making Shazam scowl.

“I don’t have trust issues,” he said.

“You do, you have some serious trust issues man,” he said.

“Mind if I ask what you two are talking about?” Clark asked and Shazam looked at Batman, reminding them of the strange competition between the two. Since he wouldn’t Batman who he really was, Bruce refused to tell him like he did with others. When members joined, he would tell them after he made it clear he knew everything about them, putting himself at an advantage and making it very clear that he could ruin them, that he knew their weaknesses. Unfortunately, he couldn’t find any weakness in Shazam yet, but so far he was counting on Superman and Wonder Woman to take him down if he ever went rogue (the lasso of truth might help them).

“My uncle decided to contact me again years after he kicked me onto the streets when I was a child. I think he’s planning something, Vic thinks he feels bad about it,” he finally answered, giving nothing away while describing the situation.

“Does he know about you being Shazam?” Bruce asked him.

“I don’t tell people,” he answered, reciting the reason he gave Batman when he asked to know who he was (or even just a clue, really). “I especially don’t tell people I don’t trust and I don’t trust my uncle,” he said.

“See? Trust issues,” Victor said.

“Just because I don’t trust a member of my family doesn’t mean I have trust issues. My uncle is the living embodiment of Scrooge and if the ghosts of Christmas Past ever did visit him it certainly didn’t do anything,” he said decidedly.

“Ghosts of Christmas past? I do not understand? Why are their ghosts visiting people on one of your holidays?” Diana asked confused.

“Well, I know what we’re watching in December,” Hal said.

“He’s referencing a movie. Well, a movie and a book, really,” Barry said.

 “Something wrong, Billy?” he asked at breakfast, smiling that sickeningly sweet smile.

“Yeah, you don’t honestly think I’m being fooled by this act, do you?” he asked, making the smile falter.

“Ah, so you’ve actually gained some intelligence in your time away,” he said and Billy had to bite back the urge to bare his teeth at the older man. “See, the thing is, I found an old letter from your mother. Why, it was the most interesting thing,” he said blinking falsely innocent eyes and Billy was starting to feel sick. “It had to do with your father,” he said.

“What about him?” he asked.

“Turns out, that old bastard C.C wasn’t your real father,” he said with a grin that made cold seep into Billy’s bones.

“No, no you're wrong,” he said, not wanting to believe it.

“Do you want to see the letter? I have a copy of it. She wrote it herself, even included the results to a paternity test in it,” he offered and Billy took a shaky breath.

“I doubt you brought me here for some regular old man you could steal money from,” Billy said, eyes closed.

“Oh no, I wouldn’t have even noticed the letter if it was a regular guy,” he admitted. “The name was what caught my attention, I’m sure you know it too, a certain...Bruce Wayne?” he asked and Billy felt like he was part of some sick joke right now.

“So that’s it? You want to get his money?” he asked already standing up

“Seeing as you’re his son, that gives you—us really, seeing as I raised you—access to his money,” he said.

“Raised me?” Billy demanded. “I’ve stayed under your roof for an exact week total! I’ve stayed at Foster Homes longer than you!” he spat out angrily.

“Be that as it may, but as his son, it’s a very good chance you’ll get all of his money when he croaks and considering his lifestyle, that’s not long from now, and you can do whatever it is you do,” he said with a smile but Billy was glaring at him.

“First off, he barely even knows me. I wouldn’t put it past him to give one of his other children his money and for him to ignore me like some dirty little secret which, really, I probably am considering mom never told me this little tidbit,” he said, turning on his heel and stalking toward the door before he could punch his uncle.

“And where do you think you’re going?” he demanded. “I’ve already written Wayne, he’s already coming down here!” he yelled, starting to stand on his spindly little legs

“To be with people that actually care about me,” he responded, door slamming shut behind him. “ God , I can’t believe I ever let myself think that he actually changed,” he said to himself as he walked down the streets. This is what happens when you give some people second chances, Billy knew, to give the benefit of the doubt. Almost every time, you got burned.

One day, he was going to learn his lesson and stop having so much faith. But, a small secretive part of him couldn’t help but think, that’s probably also the day that he’ll lose his faith in humanity and become like Black Adam.

 Dick winced as he watched the kid storm away, taking a picture with the high end binoculars and sent it to Bruce with the message ‘he just found out about you’, that was a face he knew well, it was the same face Bruce made when he was angry.

He really does take after him, he thought, watching as he stalked toward the Vasquez’s radiating such anger that people started to avoid him.

 “So, I’m guessing it wasn’t good,” Darla said when she saw him and before the Vasquez’s could see him, they guided him into the backyard where he sat on the swing set.

“Turns out my dad wasn’t really my dad,” he said with a scowl. “I have a biological father I didn’t know about,” he said.

“That’s...good?” Darla said unsure.

“No, no it’s not good. Mom took a paternity test a long time ago. She cheated on my dad and he probably even knew it too!” he said jumping to his feet, beginning to pace. “He probably hated me, because I probably reminded him of that fact. I’ve seen it in plenty of other homes,” he said recalling a few foster homes. “So much for the memory of my parents love,” he said with a scowl.

“Billy, that’s not true and you know it,” Darla said putting her hand on his shoulder.

“No, no, even though I was a little kid at the time I have no doubt that eventually he would’ve shown that hatred, he wouldn’t have been able to force himself to smile when he looked at me, and their marriage would’ve been ruined. All because mom slept with Bruce Wayne,” he said.

“Bruce Wayne? The billionaire?” Freddy asked curious.

“Yeah. Mom slept with a rich guy and wound up pregnant. I don’t need to read her letter to the guy to know that much,” he said with a dark scowl but back at the batcave, where he was listening in, Bruce closed his eyes. Marilyn had been right in her letter, that Billy would doubt his father’s love in him if he had known. The memory he had of a loving family was being tainted by a greedy old man.

“Don’t be so crude, man,” Freddy said.

“Still, it would be interesting if I moved to Gotham,” he said.

“Don’t joke around like that,” Darla said and he shot her a grin.

“I could never be some billionaire’s kid anyway. He probably doesn’t even care really, maybe he’ll just toss some money around and hope I go away,” he said leaning the pole to the swing.

“Billy,” Darla said warningly.

“Relax, it’s a joke,” he said rolling his eyes. “I mean, the Vasquez’s are gonna get tired of me anyway, at least with Wayne, if he got tired of me, he could send to some far away fancy school,” he said and shit, this kid had some severe trust issues, didn’t he.

“Billy, don’t talk like that,” Darla said looking hurt.

“They’re idiots who like helping too many people. No reason for my room to get dusty while they want to bring in another kid,” he said and though gruff, they knew it was an offer of kindness from him. Help another kid who might need it more, he was really saying.

“You’re still our family,” Darla told him.

“Foster family,” he corrected, but not cruelly, as he was smiling as he said it, like it was some kind of inside joke, making her smile at him. “And I’ve had worse foster families,” he told her, more softly, letting out the kindness in his eyes that he usually hid away, a rare sight that always made her smile.

[sueboohscorner]

#Gotham S3 Ep. 16 "These Delicate and Dark Obsessions" Spoilers, Recap, and Review

Alrighty, nerds and geeks alike, let’s get back to Gotham. The sixteenth episode of the third season is titled ‘These Delicate and Dark Obsessions’, and it was directed by Jim Gordon himself, Ben McKenzie; a fantastic episode given direction by a fantastic actor in my opinion. We got the Court, we got Bruce, we got a guy called the Shaman, a Gordon family dispute, goons, mazes, and a strange partnership between Poison Ivy and Penguin! Let’s get started.

We are informed by the Court about the apparent and poor status of Gotham and the Court of Owls has so graciously taken it upon themselves to obtain some sort of super weapon to destroy the city. Oh, and since the Court does not seem too worried about the real Bruce Wayne (David Mazouz), there’s no reason we should worry about him, right?

Now, the last time we saw Bruce, his clone had sedated him in order to carry out the Court’s plan. And once again, the Court took it upon themselves to take the real Bruce to some unknown location. He just wakes up inside some sort of temple cell overlooking a snowy, mountainous area. Isn’t the Court of Owls just so freaking nice?

 We quickly find out that Bruce is not alone when he comes to. The Shaman (Raymond J. Barry) informs Bruce that he has been waiting for him for a long time…..kinda creepy but at the same time, kinda cool and stoic.

 Let’s get back to Gotham and see what’s going on there. During Oswald’s “absence”, Aubrey James has been reinstated in office…..yay. Jim is investigating in his father’s murder case; a supposed “car accident”. The man that was apparently drunk while driving and who killed Jim’s father had a chronic persistent hepatitis.

 I’ll say that again: The driver who killed Jim’s father was diagnosed with chronic persistent hepatitis.

If some of you readers notice something wrong with that police report, don’t worry, so did Harvey Bullock (Donal Logue). Anyone who has chronic persistent hepatitis, or “the Irish Curse”, they are unable to drink. So much as a tongue dip could kill anyone with it. Jim takes Harvey’s alcoholic trivia and figures out that the man who killed his father was never drunk and that he had to believe his uncle Frank’s (James Remar) words.

Jim decided to have another chat with Frank. He admits that there is a weapon that the Court plans on using on Gotham City, although he has no idea what the weapon is exactly; but he does know who paid the lawyer of the supposed drunk driver: Carmine Falcone (John Doman). Dun dun DUN!!!

 Let’s take a breather from all that for a minute and get to the hijinks!

We cut to see Ivy Pepper (Maggie Geha) wheel in a newly revived Oswald Cobblepot (Robin Lord Taylor) into her greenhouse to give him some fresh air and to show him her friends. By friends, I mean plants. A lot of plants. Remember she’s not Poison Ivy just yet, she’s just making her way. But hey, I think it’s cool that Ivy is good to her plants and that she’s close to them. Sometimes real friends or real people can be mean, plain and simple. She’s found her knack in life and more power to her, I say!

 Instead of being grateful to Ivy for saving his life, Oswald decides to be a bit of a prick about her friendly, naïve, and enthusiastic nature. Although, I’d be mad too if I lost my political status, both in a mayoral sense and in the criminal underworld and if I was shot point plank and left for dead by someone I loved. But that’s no excuse for turning away an herbal beverage when it’s offered.

 We all know that Penguin wouldn’t be Penguin if he didn’t have some sort of plan any time of the day, and Oswald aggressively expresses his need for his newest plan: Get an army of loyal goons and thugs and kill Edward and Barbara Kean. Simple, yet effective. He urges for Ivy to call in Oswald’s most dumbest and loyal follower Gabe so his plan will be properly and quickly executed

Gabe is so happy and excited to see that his old boss didn’t bite the big one! However, Ivy feels very distrustful towards Gabe. Oswald’s frustration comes to its end when he decides to give her the brush off, in a very prickish manner I might add. Ivy legitimately feels hurt and states that she thought they were friends. To which Penguin scoffs and tells her,

“You’re a bit of a freak.”

I don’t know about you, but the words “weird” or “freak” kind of trigger me. Much like several people in Gotham City, I am learning to own up to it and make it sort of my own; but you know, words still hurt. Oswald, I love you, but damn dude!    

Understandably, Ivy leaves in a huff. Gabe inquires to Oswald if she didn’t trust him. Oz shrugs it off but is abruptly bopped in the head by Gabe. Turns out, Ivy was right.

Back to Bruce, he is confronted by the Shaman. He presents Bruce with a set of what look like acupuncture needles with strange symbols on each end. Bruce is hesitant when the Shaman pokes Bruce’s forehead. His eyes turn white, he gasps as this transcendent force runs through his mind.

In a flash, Bruce looks around to see that he’s not in the cell anymore. He’s back in Gotham City. A look of dread washes over his face when Bruce realizes that what he’s seeing is not happening in real time.

Bruce is standing, watching the memory of a lone thug shoot his parents in an alleyway.

Bruce is revived back into the present completely shocked and dumbfounded by what he saw. The Shaman tells Bruce to rest for he will come back and try again.

As we resume the story through Gordon’s perspective, we see him confront Carmine Falcone in his home about his father’s death. He demands the name of the person who ordered the hit in the first place. Falcone is a bit miffed to see Jim, to say the least. After all, he did murder his son on his wedding day; but he gives up the name anyway: Frank Gordon.

It’s Frank’s turn to be confronted by Jim. Frank admits that he was the one who initiated the hit on his own brother, Peter because he was planning on exposing the Court of Owls. Now, anyone in this situation would want to just beat up Frank right there on the spot, but not Jim. Above many things, Jim is a cop. He tries to put Frank under arrest, but Frank reluctantly puts Jim in his place, revealing where the weapon of the Court will be. Jim and Harvey realize that neither they nor the GCPD can just go down to where the weapon is without bringing too much attention to themselves from the Court.

So…..Jim has to ask for help.       

 The new Barbara Queen of Gotham (Erin Richards) happy agrees to assist Jim. She and Tabitha (Jessica Lucas) play a good round of punchies while interrogating one of the workers who work where the weapon is supposed to arrive: Dock 19. The worker admits that the weapon has already been shipped in. He gestures to a large crate labeled:

Indian Hill

But before anyone can do anything else, a single Talon appears with a sword and, at the risk of sounding like a kid being impressed by a cool assassin with a cool sword taking on a bunch of guys with guns, he was all *WHOOSH* *SWING* *JUMP* *STAB* and it was totally awesome!!!! When the Talon took out all of the guys with guns, Barbara and Tabitha make a break for it and get out of there.

 Meanwhile, the Court of Owls let Frank know that they are aware of Jim’s actions about investigating in his father’s murder and order Frank to kill him.

Ivy, along with Oswald gets captured and restrained by Gabe and a few of his goon friends. While he’s reeling over the betrayal, Ivy remains cool as a cucumber because she just so happens to be wearing her special perfume. She gets one of the guys to come over and take a whiff, putting him under her complete control. She orders him to shoot and kill everyone but Gabe and untie them.

Ivy holds Gabe at gunpoint as Oswald considers reenlisting him. He tells Ivy to use her perfume to make Gabe tell the truth. Even though Gabe said he would go back to Penguin and be completely loyal, Ivy’s perfume made him sing. Gabe reveals that he never intended to remain loyal to Oswald and that the only reason that he and other would follow him was because they all feared him.

They feared him, but they never respected him.

Gabe also says that he always saw Oswald for who he really was: just a weak umbrella boy. A freak.

Needless to say, reminding Oswald of his past that way did not set well. In his anger, he kills and hacks Gabe with a gardening tool.

Now left with no men, no goons, Oswald is back to step one. He still needs an army to kill Edward and Barbara. Ivy gets a bright idea to recruit an army of freaks from Indian Hill that were driven out of Gotham.

Jim and Frank confront each other once again. He tells Jim that he has orders to kill Jim since he could not persuade him to join the Court. Frank finally fesses up and tells Jim that he need to join in order to finish what he and Peter wanted to do from the beginning: take the Court down. For extra insurance for Jim’s sake, Frank shoots himself in the head, making it look like Jim killed him in rage over his father’s death.

Back in the cell, the Shaman makes Bruce relive his parent’s murder. The Shaman inquires that Bruce has never let go of the pain of that night, and that he needs to in order to become something bigger: a protector. He needs Bruce to become a symbol in Gotham so that it can be reborn.

For a Batman fan, like myself, this is where I was squeeing and flipping out going “He means Batman! He means Batman!”

The last scene that we see is Jim Gordon visiting his father’s grave when he receives a phone call from Kathryn (Leslie Hendrix). Gordon does what his uncle asked of him when got the call. He made it seem like Jim killed Frank in an act of revenge for his father and he asks to meet her and the Court. Jim turns to the side and he sees a limousine waiting for him.

I can’t express how great this episode was and I give major applause to Ben McKenzie for his directing skills as well as his acting. Bravo!

Things I liked:

The dynamic and partnership between Jim and Harvey.

The newfound team and relationship between Ivy and Penguin.

The chance to see Bruce take his steps in becoming “a protector” for Gotham. I never really wanted to see Bruce become Batman when I first heard about this show, but it is evident that the people working on Gotham have a specific plan for Bruce and I love seeing that plan come to life.

James Remar and Raymond J. Barry. That’s it. They’re frigging awesome.

Loved seeing some Penguin rage.

Love what Maggie Geha is doing with Ivy Pepper. She may have aged, but she still kind of has that child mentality and maturity in her mannerisms. And yet she keeps the appearance of a street-wise woman. I’d like to think that if Ivy was still a kid and she went about in the same manner, no one would take her seriously or even look her way. But even though she still is somewhat a kid, since she has the body of a grown woman, Ivy will feel more heard.

Things I did not like:

Even though I agree Gabe got what was coming to him, I’m going to miss that lug.

8/10 for the sixteenth episode of the third season.

And as always, stay weird!

[theabominableblogger]

My Reaction to “Justice League”

*puts on body armor*  Here we go..

Before we start, yo Warner Bros, why do you keep cutting out content?  Seriously.

Is that the Batman theme I hear?

I love the new DC logo

OH MY GOSH I LOVE THIS CAMCORDER VIDEO OF KIDS WITH SUPERMAN

The only sin here is that’s it’s vertical video

Oohh I like that pause Superman has after the kids ask him what his favorite part about Earth is

Now, this is Snyder color grading

HOLY SHIT THAT’S AWESOME

Wait, did that sign say “ACE” as in Ace Chemicals?

Holy shit this is almost the opening of the 1989 Batman!

What the hell is that?

Bro, this is way too dark for this kind of night time.

Oooohhhhh I like how they did the title...

This cover of “Everybody Knows” by Sigrid is awesome.  This is how you do a Leonard Cohen cover.

Aaaww Lois...

Danny Elfman!

Nooooo Martha sold her house!

Liking the homage to the black Superman suit with all the black flags with the white symbols

ROOSE BOLTON?!?

He’s only in it for like 5 minutes.  C’mon, man...

Damn this soundtrack is awesome

CGI...

Ohhh the Wonder Woman theme...

Oh my gosh the colors in this scene...

Slow motion!

Oooh that was a nice stop!

So far this feels very Zack Snyder-y

KHAL DROGO!

That Aquaman art mural on the wall is awesome...

Why is Barry squatting?  Isn’t Barry like a forensics scientist or something?

“... exploding wind-up penguins.”  Eeeeyyyy!!!

Bwahahahaha!

Billy Crudup!

Wait, so do we know who killed Barry’s mom?  Wasn’t it Reverse Flash or something?

Gotham?

Whoa...

Whatever basic prosthetics they used for Cyborg are on point, I gotta say

 There’s been a lot of blue and red so far in this movie

Themyiscera!!

Not sure if I dig Hippolyta wearing a headdress...

BOOM TUBE!

Ooooooohhhh Hippolyta just pulled a Indiana Jones with that Mother Box thing

Oh this one Amazon is awesome!  I wanna see more of her!

“You will love me.”  EEEEEEUUUGGGHHHHH!!!

Oh noooo wasn’t that Antiope’s girlfriend from “Wonder Woman?”  Noooo...

Where the heck did all these Amazons come from?

*Random lady cusses on TV*  Bwahahahaha

Martha!

I like having Lois and Martha hanging out!  Martha’s probably the mom that the first time Lois came over to Clark’s house, she told all the embarassing childhood stories.

WHAAATT CYBORG JUST HACKED INTO THE BATCAVE?!?!?

Pfffffttt Diana just walks in!

Diana, your black leather jacket and red scarf looks awfully familiar...

GREEN LANTERN!

ARES!!!

ZEUS!!!

Who looks an awful lot like Gerard Butler...  coincidence?

Is that K-pop playing in the background?

“... sign language- gorilla sign language..” Gorilla Grodd!

Holy crap Rick and Morty is playing the background....

“What is brunch?!?”  That’s a good question.

Oh my gosh, Barry, I love you but you have pizza in your mouth.  Chew with your mouth closed.

“What are your superpowers again?”  “I’m rich.”  Makes sense.

I like Cyborg being a super hacker in this universe.  I am all for it.

Why does Cyborg have an arc reactor in his chest?

“I lost someone I loved once.”  AAAAAUUUGGGHHHH

Aquamaaannn!!!

Eeeeuuuggghhhh...

*jams out to “Icky Thump” by the White Stripes*

Probably isn’t needed in this bit but meh

*gasp*  Mera?  Mera! 

She’s so pretty!

Hi Steppenwolf... bye Steppenwolf...

Aquaman origins?  Please God, give us a teaser for the Aquaman movie soon!

Ohhhhhhh that’s a cool shot...

“For Darkseid...”  OK, you [Steppenwolf] keep talking about your nephew but we’re probably gonna never see him in this movie...

Oh that’s a cool shot

COMMISSIONER GORDON!!!!!

C’mon, Cyborg?

AAAAAAHHHHHHHH

IT’S THE BATMAN THEME!!

We only get like 3 minutes of JK Simmons as Gordon and I am loving it.

I like Bruce telling Barry to “save one.”

*claps hands with each syllable*  BAT-DAD!

Gotta admit, the CGI work on Steppenwolf’s face is actually pretty good.  It’s the rest of his armor that needs work.

Oh the Nightcrawler is awesome!

[Flash starts running on the walls to go help Diana]  *sings* If IIIII could save timeeeee in a bottlllleeee...

Wait so there’s this clash about the Old Gods versus the New Gods... that’s totally “American Gods”

Oh is this Cyborg’s theme?  That’s sweet...

Who’s this “Mother” that Steppenwolf keeps talking about?!?!?

“Nice to see you [Batman] working well with others.”  AAAAAGGGGGHHHH

This is the third time we’ve had a somewhat Jason Todd reference in the DCEU.  Give us the damn goods, Warner Bros!

“Dressed like a bat.  I dig it.”  Pfffttt...

They keep flashing back to this one family...

*Flash starts sitting inside the Batmobile*  Bwaahahahaha

OK, as much as I like Ezra Miller as the Flash, he’s very, very jumpy and excitable.  Calm thyself.

Wait, so they’re gonna try and use a Mother Box to bring Superman back to life?!?  Why?

“Superman is dead.”  I mean, yeah, he is.

BITCH YOU DID NOT JUST BAD TALK STEVE TREVOR IN FRONT OF DIANA

BRUCE, YO ASS IS GRASS

Holy crap, that Pet Sematary reference though!

“Well that was fun when it didn’t last.”  Oh my gosh, Alfred.

Wait, Bruce has a legit armory?

Yes Barry and Victor bonding!

AAAHHH BRUCE ACTUALLY PERCHING ON A BUILDING LEDGE!

“This is amazing.”  “This is crazy.”  That’s a bunch of mother freaking liquid.

Oh c’mon, Barry!

Oooooohhhh that shot’s awesome

Whaaatttt....

Wait was that the original Superman theme?

DIANA JUST CALLED CLARK “KAL-EL”

There is no freaking way Clark can overpower Diana’s lasso

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

*inhale*  HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

OH SHIT

Batman, you’re gonna make it worse

OH SHIT

OH SHIT

OK, Clark’s face looks a little... off...

Henry Cavill’s philtrum are way too pronounced in this

“Do you [Batman] bleed?”  OH SHIT

LOIS IS THE SECRET WEAPON

Then what the hell was that one Flash sequence in “Batman V Superman” then?  Totally unneeded.

He [Clark] just lifted her [Lois] into space!

*The Justice League realizes that they left the Mother Box exposed for Steppenwolf to steal it*  WELL WAY TO GO, GUYS!

WHY DID YOU [Clark] GO BACK HOME?

“Is it a bad time to bring up my blood sugar?”  Yes it is, Barry.

“Do you [Arthur] talk to fish?”  Oh my gosh, Bruce...

Liking the robe, Diana

*Bruce admits he doesn’t see himself as the leader of the Justice League*  Yeah you are, man!

Oh, that’s a nice shot of them [Clark and Lois]!

“It’s really me [Clark], Ma.”  AAAHHHH!

OH SHIT

Oh my goosssshhhhhh, why is Steppenwolf boring?

WHAT THE DUCK....

Yay calm Barry!

Is that the Flying Fox?

*Aquaman starts trash talking the rest of the team but starts complimenting the crap out of Diana*  Pffffttttt....

*Aquaman’s been sitting on the Lasso of Truth*  BWAHAHAHAHAHA

Whoooooaaaaaaaa

Well that ship didn’t last long

Oh the score for this scene is great

That is a lot of parademons...

Bruce has a freaking potty mouth in the DCEU

WHOOOOOOOOOOOOO

HAIR FLIP!  THERE YA GO!

Why don’t we get more on Diana and Steppenwolf’s connection as Gods?  Seriously, like that is one of the more interesting parts of the movie.

WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Superman??? SUPERMAN!!

*in best Aquaman impression*  All right!

The driver of that truck is gonna have serious whiplash

“‘Cause I [Clark] really like being alive.”  I don’t think now would be the time to make those kinds of jokes, Clark...

“Children.  I [Diana] work with children.”  Same.

OOOHHHH

Oooohh Superman and Diana actually saved the day.  Whoot!

OK, so Steppenwolf’s “death” here is totally how Pitch went out in “Rise of the Guardians”

OOOOOOHHHHH I LIKE THAT SHOT

Wait, so all the Apokolips stuff just turned into flowers?  What?

Aaahh they [Martha and Clark] got the house back!

Lois is barely in this movie!

“I [Bruce] bought the bank.”  Bwahahahahaha

Barry got a job at Wayne Enterprises! 

Is that Wayne Manor?

Oh I like Diana’s dress

Waaaaiittt are they gonna revamp Wayne Manor into the Hall of Justice?

*Gordon turns on the Bat-Signal*  YAAASSSSSS!!!!

DO IT DO IT DO IT [the Superman move of ripping open the shirt to show the costume]- YESSSSSSSS

FLASH AND SUPERMAN ARE ACTUALLY RACING EACH OTHER!!!

Guys, I want the Flash suit like yesterday

Now that’s a shot

SHut up they pulled a “Killing Joke” on us!

Deathstroke!

Wait, Lex is wearing a modernized version of the Gene Hackman suit from the original Superman movie!

“I [Lex] was just celebrating God’s return out of the ground and into the sky.”  *sigh*  God dammit

WHAAAAAAAAATTT THAT’S WHAT SLADE WILSON LOOKS LIKE?!?!?

He look gooooood...

ALL RIGHT WHO CALLED LEX AND DEATHSTROKE FORMING THE INJUSTICE LEAGUE?!!?  THAT’S RIGHT, ME!  I CALLED IT!