#so the simple fact that 'superman tries the most obvious solution every time'

[bombusbombus]

Love love LOVE it when writers understand the comedic potential of Superman being the most straight laced motherfucker in the world.

It's like he infested his own brain with bureaucracy to hold himself accountable, so now he does everything By The Book even if that means doing something absolutely nobody else would think to do (to the dismay and/or joy of his teammates and the absolute bafflement of everyone on the recieving end of Clark Kent Problem Solving).

[rantsaboutsuperheroes-blog]

The Problem with Spider-Man

Despite Marvel’s success in bringing Iron Man, Captain America, and the rest of the Avengers to a much wider audience than ever before, the company’s most profitable hero by far continues to be Spider-Man. The character was absent for the first three phases of the Marvel Cinematic Universe (instead having his own movie series starring Andrew Garfield), yet he took in quite literally three times as much profit as the entirety of the Avengers team, all of whom have had recent solo outings and merchandising lines. Of course, that only seems absurd if you ignore the past 50 years of mainstream exposure Peter Parker and his alter ego have gotten. He’s reached a level of ubiquity only matched by DC’s marquee superheroes, Superman and Batman. Hundreds of thousands of comics all over the world, cartoons, movies, even the occasional stab at a live-action TV show (Thank you, Japan) have acquainted every continent in the world with Spider-Man.

So, Spider-Man’s absurdly popular. There’s always going to be money made on Spider-Man merchandise. That’s a given. But the sales and popularity of his ongoing comic series have not always been as rocksteady. In recent years, sales of the main Amazing Spider-Man title have been declining. Since the comic’s 2015 relaunch (as part of Marvel’s increasingly desperate rounds of biannual relaunches ever since “Marvel Now!” back in 2012) sales have declined by a little over 50%, dipping as low as 72% in late 2016. Other entries in the Spider-Man publishing line such as Spider-Man (Miles Morales), Spider-Gwen, Spider-Woman, and Venom have also suffered sales slumps. So, why is this happening? Because if Spider-Man, Marvel’s most lucrative character by far can’t sell issues, the rest of Marvel’s publishing line is probably in similar trouble. And, unfortunately, it is. But while Marvel does have massive problems regarding its current direction for its characters, Spider-Man and his supporting cast pose a separate, but equally difficult problem.

Teenage superheroes might seem like a common enough concept idea by this point, but it’s important to remember just how instrumental the story of Peter Parker is to the creation of practically every superhero that came after him. More than any other superhero that came before him, Peter was relatable. He wasn’t a super-strong alien or billionaire playboy, he was nerdy teenager. He got picked on, girls ignored him, his family wasn’t that well off, and he didn’t have a dazzling personality or anything. In fact, he was kind of an asshole. Even after he got his powers and learned his lesson about the relationship between Great Power and Great Responsibility, Peter continued to act like a stupid teenager, both without and without the mask. Which, once again, is incredibly relatable to teenagers and young adults such as myself. But what really set Spider-Man’s story apart from other superheroes at the time was the fact that he got older. He graduated high school and went to college. His longtime girlfriend Gwen Stacy was killed. He graduated college. He eventually got married to Mary Jane Watson. Sure, the rest of the Marvel Universe progressed with him in some ways, but remained static in so many others. It’s incredibly hard to replicate the anxieties and heartaches and triumphs that a person experiences when they’re becoming an adult. There’s no other period of our lives quite like it (said the 22-year old college student). But the thing about becoming an adult is, you can’t really ever be a teenager again. I’m not saying this like it’s a bad thing, being a teenager is a pretty shit deal most of the time.

The reason I bring this up is simple: Spider-Man graduated college and got married, but ever since the 2007 Spider-Man event “One More Day”, the character feels like he’s regressed back to his teenage personality and supporting cast. Marvel referred to the status quo following this shift “Brand New Day”. For those of you who know what One More Day is, you can probably guess the direction this rant will be taking. For those who don’t, let me give you the high concept: Peter and Mary Jane sells their marriage to Satan (or at least Marvel’s resident Satan stand-in, Mephisto) in order to save his dying Aunt May. If you think that sounds unbelievably stupid, you’re not alone. If you’re wondering just how the hell a storyline like that could be proposed by a writer and not instantly shot down by the editorial, it’s because the writer of the AMS series at the time, J. Michael Straczynski didn’t suggest it. Instead, the edict came down from on high, sprung from the mind of Marvel’s Editor-in-Chief at the time, Joe Quesada. But why would he want to do something like that? Why set back the company’s marquee character’s personal progression by over 20 years? And in a literal Deal with the Devil no less? Mr. Quesada’s reasoning can be summed up in two statements:

“If I’m going to live by the theory that I’ve always believed in –that a Peter being single is an intrinsic part of the very foundation of the world of Spider-Man — then the same can be said about mechanical webshooters vs. organic.”

“If we keep Spidey rejuvenated and relatable to fans on the horizon, we can manage to do that and still keep him enjoyable to those that have been following his adventures for years. Will everyone be happy with the decision? No, of course not, but that’s what makes it a horserace. At the end of the day, my job is to keep these characters fresh and ready for every fan that walks through the door, while also planning for the future and hopefully an even larger fan base.”

Now, I’m going to say right now that I am mostly of the opinion that the above statements are bullshit. But there is a logic to them that is also hard to deny. Well, at the time that is. After all, it is true that the character doesn’t belong to any one generation. Younger fans should have an access point to these characters that isn’t guarded by 500 issues of required reading. I absolutely agree with that sentiment. In fact, I would assert that in some regards One More Day and the subsequent Brand New Day status quo did help breathe some fresh air into Spider-Man’s corner of the Marvel universe. It is wackier, there is more outlandish stuff happening, and yes, there have been some damn fine stories that have come out of this direction. But I also think that by going in this new direction, Marvel editorial erased something much more valuable from Spider-Man: a feeling of growth and change and investment to see how Peter Parker’s life plays out. But luckily for Marvel, there’s a way they can have their cake and eat it too: legacy characters. Namely, a kid by the name of Miles Morales.

For those of you unacquainted, Miles Morales is the current star of the adjectiveless Spider-Man series written by Brian Michael Bendis. Originally starting off in the Ultimate Universe (an attempt at creating an edgy, youthful universe to counteract exactly what Quesada was talking about), Miles made the transition to the mainstream Marvel Universe to interact with the rest of the company’s stable of characters. So herein lies the problem: Miles Morales exists as a successor to the mantle of Spider-Man, and to recreate the teenaged high-school feel of the original AMS issues written by Stan Lee and Steve Ditko. That’s well and fine, except Peter’s entire status quo over the past ten years has been an attempt to do exactly the same thing. They’re trying to occupy the same niche, and as a result neither of them are fitting in well. Peter, like Miles, is perpetually single with relationships and love interests only really teased at, or existing as short term relationships at most. They try their best to keep their secret identities hidden from their loved ones. Of course, there are obvious differences. Miles is a high schooler, Peter is currently the CEO of his own megacorporation, Parker Industries.

You might think that sounds like character progression. Rest assured, it’s not. Peter is now an emotionally stunted manchild, but also a cut-rate Tony Stark. Unfortunately, lampshading that fact within the series itself did nothing to make the new status quo feel organic or even interesting. He’s had the company for less than a year and the tie-in to the next big Marvel event, Secret Empire, will see it all get torn down around his ears, returning Peter to his more well-known status quo of a single guy down on his luck.

So, my solution to this problem is actually very simple: Marvel needs to revisit the One More Day storyline in an arc written to undo the changes brought about by the event. Peter and Mary Jane’s marriage should be restored, Aunt May should either be allowed to die like the original storyline tried to avert or have her knowledge of Peter’s identity returned to her to more accurately recreate the status quo the character had before One More Day. Let Miles be the down-on-his-luck teenager that has to go through all the trials and tribulations of getting older. Let Peter be the adult that’s already gone through all of that, and deals with his own adult problems. Because ultimately, Spider-Man isn’t a story about being a teenager. It’s a story about growing up. And Peter, like it or not, has already grown up. There’s no point in trying to reset his characterization to his teenage self when there’s a teenage character ready and willing to take over that mantle. All that keeping the current narrative direction will do is push Miles further and further into irrelevance, and keep Peter from actually changing and evolving as a character. And frankly, neither Spider-Man deserves that fate.

[astrologista]

The Utopia (wip)

Summary : Driven by a benevolent protector... what could go wrong?

Universe : DCAU (Justice Lords verse)

Warning : Contains a domestic situation which could be classed as abusive.

[I started this several years ago. I am posting it at the humble bequest of @starspatter. I dunno if I’ll pad it up to finish it. You should be familiar with the DCAU and the Justice Lords to fully enjoy this fic. I mostly wrote this because I like protective Bruce and wanted to see what might become of the sidekicks in the Justice Lords universe.]

---

It was a perfect world. With heroes to defend the right, the true, and the just, protection was always close at hand. There was still sin and vice in the world, but as long as it could not corrupt the light, nothing in particular was wrong. The heroes created a coalition to combine their powers. Nothing was impossible, and the world was theirs, theirs to shape into a paragon of "right". (They knew exactly what was right. How else could they judge the criminals from the good folk, like the chaff from the wheat? And the rewards of the harvest... those were thrillingly yet to come.) It was a perfect world. Before Lex Luthor destroyed it.

Like the cogs of an intricate machine, the inner mechanisms of the Justice Lords were not to be messed with, particularly by someone with a set of particular and vicious goals. But Luthor knew nothing of the powers with which he was dealing. For him, the Flash was a simple thorn in his side, an insignificant speck of dust, a young buffoon with no future of any note. Wally West was in the way, and Luthor was not a man to work around obstacles. He simply destroyed them. It was that tenacity that brought him to the highest office of the United States of America... It could have been a perfect world. Two bullets disrupted the quiet fabric of the Lords. Where restraint was, was now a hole, eight millimeters wide. Where conscience was, a second hole, of the same size. The absence of an element fundamentally changes a compound - it becomes something completely different, with no memory of what it once was, and no conception of what it could become. Without the suppressor, the rage boils over, frothing and spitting angrily, like a cancer cell mutated by some catastrophic event. Superman, the most powerful guardian the world had ever known, became a figure of vengeance. He would not rest until justice was served, until the scales were once more balanced. When the Bat and the Amazon encountered the smoking corpse of the guiltiest man alive - the final president to be assassinated - there was but a moment of self-reflection, before they turned away from the light entirely. There was a new way now, and that was what they would follow. Superman was always a visionary - this was his way now. So it would be for all of them. "Never again." they promised. No one took that oath more gravely than the Bat. It would be a perfect world. --- [Insert scenes here] --- "Spontaneous inter-dimensional shearing, I think they call it." "...wuh...Bruce?..." Tim Drake cracks one eye open, but he can see nothing save the near-blinding fluorescent situated over the cot. He's in the Cave, he can tell that much. The muted whirr of machines; water dripping at regular intervals; bats are stirring, whispering from somewhere far away. It's a familiar noise, a comforting symphony of home. He's glad to hear Bruce's voice. "You were lucky. If the exit portal had opened any higher off the ground, you could have broken something or worse." Now Tim seems to remember something Ray Palmer had once mentioned... spontaneous portals opening to other dimensions. They weren't a common occurrence, the chance of a human encountering one, much less falling into one, was less than 1 in five hundred thousand every fifty years... like tectonic plates, the seams of the multiverse were continually shifting and slipping, and random shearing was one of the products. You could never predict where in the multiverse a portal was going to open up, but due to some manner of quantum particles that interfaced with neurons, you could subconsciously gain some degree of control of where you were going to land. Tim had done decently well. The Cave was the only decently safe place he knew of. It made sense to want to be there, even if he'd had to fall a few feet from his exit point and black out deep within the Cave... ...Something was off about Bruce. He had almost forgotten the inter-dimensional part... "...You're..." /Words, Drake./ "Yes." That monosyllabic word told him most of what he needed to know, even if he'd already deduced most of it just from being in the Cave. Yes, the man above him was Batman in this universe, and yes, he was Bruce Wayne by day, and yes, he was still a master conversationalist. Tim allowed himself to relax, if only a fraction. He was glad he hadn't landed in some freakish dimension where Bruce was Two-Face and Harvey Dent was Batman, or something weird or creepy like that. He would be safe here, at least until he could find a way to get home. --- This version of Bruce was no carbon copy of the one he knew. That, he figured out quickly. He'd taken a spatial hop - not a temporal one - yet this Bruce had significantly more gray in his hair than his counterpart. What's more, something about him was desperate... afraid in a way that Bruce typically wasn't. As if something beyond his oath were constantly troubling him, making it almost impossible for him to get any work of value done. Actually, nothing he had done so far had been troubling to Tim persay, but it was obvious Tim wasn't allowed to leave the Batcave, and no answers were forthcoming when he tried to ask why. This Batman rarely left the Cave all night in any case (what were the criminals of Gotham doing, he wondered?), but when he did, the familiar face of Alfred was there, watching over him as if he were some kind of criminal. Yes... he was definitely in unfamiliar territory. --- Dick's voice was steady, but tense across the vid link. "Bruce, you've given me everything I could ask for, and in return I gave you my loyalty. So I'm asking you... don't do this. And can't he hear you right now?" Bruce switched his view to the camera over the medical cot, Tim was peacefully resting... "He's asleep. We can talk." "You mean you drugged him." Dick murmured. He wasn't surprised. At this point, he was rarely surprised at how far his mentor would go for safety and stability. And how much farther... he needed to know. "You going to introduce them? Are you sure it's a good idea?" he asked. Dick remembered then why he'd walked out of the Cave and never looked back, the day he was fired. He couldn't question Bruce's actions - the time for that had long past. But it wasn't right to leave him to his own devices like this, not when other people were involved. "It'll be fine." the Justice Lord whispered, with the certainty of a man who found some notions of morality to be futile jokes in the face of fate. "In fact, I think it's just what Tim needs." --- "What happened to them?!" Tim couldn't understand the glass cases lined in a neat row in front of him. They were much like the one back home that held Dick's old Robin costume, but these were much more... sterile. One held the familiar black and blue Nightwing suit... the next, Barbara's Batgirl costume. The final one gave the eerie sensation of looking in a mirror - it was his Robin suit, looking like it had been placed there yesterday. One terrifying thought immediately surfaced and settled in his mind, and it was more disturbing than he wanted to imagine. But it would explain why he hadn't seen them around the Cave, and why Bruce and Alfred acted so strange... no, they couldn't all be... The Lords had lived without compunction for the past few years, but Bruce was a man of logic and reason, and could see moral decay. He knew what it was and why his compatriots had been admonished by Superman Prime and the rest of the League. He could see consequences. What he couldn't foresee were his own fears. "They're all alive. Retired." "Retired..." Tim whispered, as if it were a fate not quite as bad as death, but just as close. "I need you to follow me." His tone brooked no arguments, and Tim did as he was bid. The elevator was something Tim had found infinite joy in, his first days in the Cave - everything about the place was magical. Other kids dreamed of Disney World, Tim dreamed of the Batcave. Somehow he knew it would have something utilitarian enough to be there, but still close enough to an amusement ride to be fun and amazing, like a figment of his dreams. That was where the man led him. The floor code he entered, though - it was unknown to Tim, and required two extra passcodes and a fingerprint besides. Tim couldn't help getting chills - what unknown secret of the Batcave was he about to be shown? It could be where Bruce kept experimental weapons or the next generation of the Batmobile or even some kind of tunnel system that ran under Gotham, which Tim was certain Bruce was hiding somewhere. Tim counted no less than eight levels passing by before the elevator stopped at what he presumed must be one of the lowest sub-basements the Cave had to offer. /Keep it together, Drake.../ To open the door at this level, of course, required a 20-digit code (without which the elevator would no doubt ascend to the main Cave with alarms blaring), but before entering it, Bruce spoke without turning to face Tim. "You should know that I have a dimensional transporter of my own design that will get you home." It must be down here, Tim deduced. Only something that precious to Batman would have such high security around it. Good 'ol Bruce... always had a solution, even when things seemed to be at an impass. It was an exhilarating relief - with no answers, Tim had spent the past days questioning how in the world he was going to get home, when he wasn't sleeping deeply... "All right! Thank God. ...Bruce must miss me by now. My Bruce, I mean." The man turned and granted him a soft smile, the kind Tim wasn't used to seeing from Bruce. There was something in it... something like pity. "Just... wait, Tim." Bruce keyed in a 20-digit code that he obviously knew by heart and the doors parted on what looked like a short promenade, leading up to an impenetrable-looking door. Tim was reminded of a panic room. This was something he could see Bruce building, a safe bunker some three miles underground with a dimensional door to escape without a trace. He could practically burst with the James Bond coolness of the whole thing... An advanced-looking biometrics scanner verified the biorhythmic signatures and DNA of two humans known to the Batcave's system, likely to thwart androids, aliens (the villainous kind), and Clayface, thought Tim. This was going to a lot of trouble, even for something like a dimensional transporter. Which you wouldn't want in the wrong hands, but still, Tim thought. Bruce punched in a final code that seemed considerably longer than the others. The door buzzed quietly, unlocking for its verified visitors, and rolling back like the door to some advanced bank safe. It really looked a lot like a bank safe, Tim thought, the entire door was some four feet thick and composed of some alloy that was most likely fireproof, bulletproof, bombproof... anything-proof. Not only that, but a series of complex mechanisms on the opposite side of the door seemed to imply that not only were the contents of the chamber protected from unauthorized access, but that there was no way to open the door from inside... What was on the other side of it, though, was not what Tim was expecting to see. He'd prepared himself for some futuristic vault, centered around this awesome-looking portal that could access any dimension in the multiverse. Instead, the room he was met with had a relatively low ceiling, recessed lighting including an area that looked like some sort of artificial sunlight, and thick but aesthetically pleasing walls all around. It looked like a strange apartment suite, with an open sort of floor plan. There was a small but well-stocked workout area off to the right, and nearby, some sort of workbench with what looked like circuits spread all over it and tools placed here and there. A very, very large flat screen television graced a significant part of a wall, the shelves around it littered with DVDs and video games of all kinds, from the retro to the cutting-edge. Discrete cameras and sensors were integrated into the entire space, likely providing full video and audio to the Cave's computers. The place was minimalist and Spartan, but wide and spacious in its own way; Tim felt a strange sense of belonging in the place, as it seemed to contain most creature comforts he could ask for, and though it was quiet and homey enough, one thought flashed into Tim's puzzled mind. /"Someone actually /lives/ here?"/ Who would Batman keep locked up under the Batcave? Would it be a dangerous criminal? Maybe this was his only way to keep a positive eye on someone so dangerous. But to go to all this trouble for one person? Before he could think any further, the obviously lone occupant of this strange domicile emerged from an alcove on the left, a soda in his hand, a seemingly shocked look on his face at the sight of his visitor. Tim didn't have time to be shocked, something pricked into his arm and everything shortly went black. --- The drugs wore off him like a heavy fog. Consciousness eventually surfaced, but his head was still swimming. He had to convince himself that what he had seen was real. But it couldn't be. Oh, yes it could. Tim desperately didn't want to open his eyes to it, but he needed to know the truth. /Up-and-at-em, huh.../ Forcing heavy eyelids open, he stared up at the solid-looking ceiling despondently. Sitting near him... "Oh my god." Tim croaked. Yes. Now he really was face to face with himself. It was too strange. Maybe this was all some horrible, nightmare-induced hallucination. Bruce was nowhere in sight. His... counterpart... had seated himself on a small ottoman near him, but not too near. Tim realized he was lying on a soft couch, likely the spot where Bruce had placed him before /leaving/ him down here. No explanation. Nothing. Then he'd have to simply fill /himself/ in on what was going on. At least his host seemed mentally stable. But Tim remained wary. This version of himself could be dangerous - locked away, where he couldn't hurt anyone. The idea gave him uncomfortable thoughts and chills... "Hey." the doppelganger greeted shyly, and Tim immediately rejected the fact that he sounded that way. No way was he that quiet or tentative, either. (Right?) "You... y-you're me." Tim mentally slapped himself for the ridiculously cliche words that had just fallen from his mouth. What else do people say when they meet their counterpart from another dimension? The boy snorted softly and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I should be so lucky." At that point, as he had with this strange version of Bruce, Tim felt he could relax. His double at least had a sense of humor, and that he could work with. Silence reigned over the two, but Tim was bursting with questions. He just couldn't decide what to ask first. The doppelganger then took the initiative to ask him something. "You want a soda? 'Cause... I can get you one..." Still racked with questions, it took only that much to get Tim to fall suddenly into helpless giggles at the absurdity of the whole thing. /I passed out in the bunker-safe-thing of my double from another dimension and when I woke up he offered me a soda.../ Once he was able to breathe again, Tim felt he was able to look at him truly now, eye contact, no fear. "Um, no. Thanks. I don't need a soda right now. But I do need to know what the heck's going on." Immediately, the figure opposite him tensed and fidgeted, suddenly defensive, withdrawn. Then he shook his head as if clearing it. Tim suddenly became concerned as to the relationship between Bruce and Tim in this world. Were they enemies? But he was Robin. Or used to be. Had he made some horrible mistake? Was this his punishment? "I-I guess it doesn't matter now. You might as well know. I'm guessing he didn't tell you anything about... this." "Good guess." "He told me you're from Earth Prime. That there was a freak accident. Is that true? Or did he pull you from somewhere?" Tim blinked. "No, that's all true. I'm here by accident." As far as I know, Tim thought. The double looked somewhat surprised that he hadn't been lied to, and Tim could understand. Bruce wasn't always honest, here or at home. It wasn't all that surprising. "Huh. Well... from what little he told me, you're here for the same reason as I am." Now that was just too cryptic. "Wait." he blurted. "You're retired from being Robin. Is this your retirement? Aside from other concerns, these are some sweet digs! Is this supposed to be like your sanctuary?" The look on the doppelganger's face was too grim for that to be true, and Tim felt a sudden chill of what was unknown and unspoken about this room. "No." the boy said slowly. "No. This isn't Robin's sanctuary. It's a gilded cage." --- Upon close inspection, Tim found that his double had not only every NES game worth playing, but every SNES game, too. "This must be what takes up most of your time." The kid shrugged. "A little of this, a little of that, and I get by. He doesn't want me to get... bored." The words were said bitterly, and slowly Tim began to understand their implications. If there was more to know, he decided it would be better to simply know it. "You didn't retire." he said slowly. "He fired you. And Dick, and Barb too." "Yeah. And Green Arrow fired Red Arrow, and Superman fired Supergirl, too." Tim started. "What?? You're telling me everyone fired their sidekicks - er, partners?" "All the ones under 25, anyway." "But... why?" The boy frowned deeply, averting his eyes. He mumbled a tense response. "Because of the Flash." "Um... what does Wally have to do with any of this?" "That's right..." Those haunted eyes widened for a second. "You don't even know..." "Then back up. Tell me how it got to this point." The double's eyes seemed to look right through him, far away to some past time. "It was... two years ago. I guess our world used to be a whole lot like your world. Steven Drake was my dad, Bruce took me in after dad skipped town, and I was 13 then. I remember fighting the Scarecrow, Klarion, Clayface, the Creeper, the Joker, Poison Ivy and... well, the rest. Those were the halcyon days... but, nothing good can last. Things really started to sour when Luthor was elected president..." "Wait, /Lex/ Luthor? /The/ Lex Luthor?" "One and the same, unfortunately. The Justice Lords worked behind the scenes, trying to keep him from taking things too far. Superman believed he could be reasoned with, but in the end, it was a losing battle, and Luthor was mad with power. When the Flash foiled one of his plans, Luthor decided to personally shut him down. For good." The Justice Lords. Bruce had told Tim about them, that they were an alternate version of the Justice League, but he had withheld all these details. That was the dimension he had landed in, the same one that the League had visited. "And after that..." "After that, Superman... repaid Lex in kind." The doppelganger's voice wavered. Superman was his friend, one of the world's greatest heroes. Tim couldn't imagine the Clark he knew killing anyone, even if it was Luthor. "That's how the Justice Lords were able to take everything to the next level. Instead of killing most of the supervillains, though, Superman... lobotimized them." "Please." Tim said quietly. "Just... I'd rather not hear any more about Superman." The double seemed relieved. "Tell me about Bruce." "Batman was the only one of the team who believed that they weren't necessarily doing what was right. But he changed, too. After what happened to Wally West, he recanted all previous beliefs in having younger partners."

Tim knew what was coming, and to spare his alter self pain, decided to finish the tale of woe for him. "So he fired you, Nightwing, and Batgirl." Beyond one nod of the head and misty eyes, the alter Tim could not answer. "To... to keep anything from happening to us. And that's the purpose of this room, too. If you think this entire room is one big vault, you're right. No one can get in..." a look of defeat, misery, "...and no one can get out. I think he intended on having three total of them down here, a personal "utopia" for Dick, and one for Barbara. But... they won't go anywhere near him now, so I guess they're free from him for now. He could bring them down here if he really wanted to, though. Trust me, he's serious about this. This entire room is custom made. It's not supposed to be a cell, though it functions as one. Bruce does everything he's supposed to do to make sure I don't get bored or go insane down here." "D-does it work?" Tim found himself afraid to hear the answer. The double swallows, eyes downcast. "I hope so." They desperately needed a subject change, so Tim asked "Doesn't he worry about your health?" "Yeah. A little too much. I'm supposed to be safe from bacteria down here, but my immune system isn't what it used to be since I haven't had exposure to crowds or germs in general. Bruce didn't know he was carrying a pneumonia germ... but, it was enough. I got sick. I was sure I was going to die... that was the only time he let me upstairs, so he and Alfred and Leslie could care for me. When I recovered, she recommended I get some fresh air. That was the last time I've been outside. But..." "What'd he do, tie you to a post or something?" Tim still had hope that this was some cruel joke. "Worse than that. He carried me..." A strange expression, somewhere between fondness and vulnerability. "Wouldn't even let my feet touch the ground. Bruce is different now. He knows what he can lose. He'll never let it happen to me, not as long as there's still a breath in his body." "...You've gotta leave." Tim said with finality. The doppelganger smiled bitterly and shook his head. "I don't even think about it any more." "But your Bruce has taken things way past protecting you. This is practically abusive!" "I have everything I need here, and I'm absolutely safe. Look, I didn't think Heaven would be this far underground, but... for Bruce, I'd live and die here, if that's what he wants from me. He gave me the best years of my life, and I owe him peace of mind in return. It’s a loyalty issue. For me, it's a small price to pay - " "Oh, is that what he calls it? Dude, it's the ultimate price to pay. Sounds like he's been gaslighting you pretty bad. Maybe he's not all as sane as you think!" "You do know about the cameras, right?" "Who cares." --- [Scene not written yet - but prime!tim convinces lordsverse!tim to escape, probably by getting Bruce to open the door and then getting past him by distracting him somehow. They escape and have some adventure finding another dimensional transporter - possibly Superman's? lordsverse!tim gets injured by guards or something and decides not to go to prime!verse with Tim. They have a tearful goodbye of sorts. Bruce turns up to recover the injured doppelganger.] --- Almost. Just a few more seconds, and it would have been... another tragedy. Like Mom and Dad. Like Flash... He ties another stitch off and steadies his shaking hands over Tim's side. No more blood, and no more bleeding. The Flash. So damn young when he... Children, they were all children... no place in this mad game. He'd promised himself, never again. He'd promised. Ties the last stitch off, and bandages the wound. Tim's unconscious from the drug again, and he should stay that way... for now. Why couldn't he put them all in stasis? Find some way to seal them in glass cases. Guarantee their safety and happiness... Bruce gently rests his hand over Tim's hand. "Nothing's going to hurt you." he whispers. ---

[Insert ending here... probably involving prime!tim assuring batman that he'll always play it safe]