(Upload) Superman Returns Redux Challenge
This is for Sasha’s Superman Returns Redux Challenge. She said: ‘You don’t like Lois? Cut down her screen time. You think the kid is too wimpy? Tough him up. You think there’s no enough Batman? Bring him around.’ And I said ‘I wouldn’t even know where to start!’ and she said ‘Well, you could write it all over!’ And I thought maybe I could do something, and this is the result. This Bruce is so sane he scares me.
tmelange did the beta, and she's awesome :) *huggles T* I hope you find this to your liking, Sasha!
Fandom: (this one is tricky) Superman Returns, DCU and DCAU. Obviously, AU
Rating: PG
Pairing: This is Gen! …for now. Implied Superman/Lois
Summary: It’s been five years since Superman left the Earth. Status quo has changed.
Word Count: 3538
Started on July 23rd 2006 at 9:10 pm
Finished on July 28th 2006 at 2:00 am
Superman Returns Redux Challenge
It started with a crash.
In the years that followed, the crash became the secret genesis of a well-known myth.
Kal-El came to the world in a spaceship from a place far away, carrying with him the last remains of his culture. He grew up on a farm in Kansas, the adoptive son of Jonathan and Martha Kent. Kal-El grew strong under the yellow sun, gifted with amazing powers that allowed him to do great deeds.
Among men, he was like a god. The people called him Superman, and he did his best to live up to the world’s expectations.
Earth gave birth to other champions, brothers in arms with the Man Who Came from the Stars. He swore to protect her, and she had long ago adopted him as one of her own.
The Man of Steel lived and breathed and fought and fell in love, and the world never stopped turning, not even for him.
Searching for his heritage, Kal-El of Krypton left his adoptive planet, leaving it in the capable hands of his brothers in arms. He knew that Earth would still be there when he returned, for Earth’s heroes were brave and strong.
After a while, Kal-El came back.
He arrived with a crash, very similar to the one that had started it all, unaware that the world never stops turning.
Not even for Superman.
---
Clark stirred, feeling sore and impossibly tired. The sun kissed his face, and he could hear the birds outside and the rich quietness of the morning. He was home.
He stood up, stretching carefully, and walked into the bathroom. He opened the faucet, and splashed his face. He stared at himself in the mirror, seeing his face clearly reflected for the first time in… too long. He had been away for too long, and he hadn’t found what he was looking for. Krypton was nothing but debris, an asteroid cloud without any trace of the people who lived there, the people who gave him birth.
It hadn’t been a fruitless journey, though. It gave him perspective and knowledge. The Earth and Mankind were but grains of sand in the universe, so small, meaningless and fragile. But maybe meaningless wasn’t the word he wanted, because he had barely seen others in his years of travel, and how he had missed the warmth and the joy of living among people, even if he had always felt out of place on his adoptive planet. Mankind was an ephemeral but precious thing, and his place was among them.
He started changing his clothes, wanting more than anything to explore and run through the fields of his childhood, under his sun, cruising the clear blue skies. As he headed down the stair of the silent house, he heard the phone ringing. Ma wasn’t home, and he wasn’t sure if he even should pick up the phone since nobody knew he was back yet, but curiosity won him over. Who would call the Kent farm so early in the morning?
“Hello?” he asked with a big grin on his face. What had been his first actions since coming back to Earth? Wash his face, put on a t-shirt and some old jeans and answer the phone. Not very super at all, and he was loving it.
“You’re back,” the voice stated, not asked. The feeling of not knowing what to answer to the not question was a familiar one.
“Hey, Bruce. What are you doing up so early?” Clark played with the phone cord, leaning against the wall. He was a bit rusty, but he still knew how to play their game.
There was a soft sigh at the other end of the line, followed by a heavy silence. Clark could tell Bruce was going over all the things he needed to know now and how Clark’s tendency to pleasantries was delaying the answers. “Haven’t gone to bed yet, actually.” Clark grinned, forcing Bruce to be civilized was a sound victory.
“That’s a long night.”
“You have no idea,” Bruce said under his breath. Clark could hear typing in the background. Bruce was most likely still in the Cave.
“Any reports of falling meteorites in the Kansas area?” Clark asked innocently. It was a little unnerving how Bruce knew of things almost as soon as they happened, but then, Batman had always been like that. The more the world changed, the more it stayed the same.
“Not anymore.”
“Anymore?” Clark frowned, confused.
“My systems picked up your trajectory, and Oracle confirmed it was you at your entry. She erased all records of the event.”
“Uh, thanks,” Clark said, still frowning. “I think. Who’s Oracle?”
“There’s a lot you need to be briefed about. Soon.”
“I’ll drop by as soon as I get myself on my feet. I have to pull together what’s left of my life here…”
“I meant ‘soon’ as in ‘now’.”
“Yeah, I’m going to be a bit busy, B. It’s going to have to wait. I need to go back to Metropolis before I start dealing with any cape business,” Clark said, annoyed. He had forgotten how frustrating Bruce could be.
“Alfred is making dinner. Be here at six.”
The line went dead, leaving Clark staring at the phone and thinking about setting it on fire. He took a deep breath, and hung up.
Ma wasn’t going to be pleased to know he was missing dinner on his first day back.
---
“Good evening, Master Kent,” Alfred opened the door, stepping aside to let Clark in the Manor. Bruce’s home had always seemed too big for the man, even with Dick and then Jason living with him. It appeared to be fit for banquets and parties, which weren’t a normal occurrence these days, and with only three people to fill it, it had always seemed ominous to Clark. Yet, somehow, the house seemed less threatening that day. Clark thought it might have been a change in his perspective, but with Bruce, you could never be sure.
“Master Bruce is waiting for you in the study,” Alfred said as he took Clark’s coat. “If you would follow me.”
“Thank you, Alfred.” Clark walked two steps behind the older man, wondering if he should say something to him. He had been gone for five years, after all. “Have you… how has… It’s been a long time since I last saw you, Alfred.”
“Indeed, Master Kent. If you mean to ask how everything has been in the household, you might have to ask Master Bruce. He is very interested in talking to you about your time of absence, I believe.”
“I’ll ask him then. What about you? How have you been?” Clark felt a flush creep across his cheeks. Talking with Alfred about his time away was much like talking to his mother. He should have said something before leaving. The times Alfred had made Clark tea and had given him pleasant translations of gruff bat-speak were countless. He had been a friend to Clark, and Clark had just disappeared on him, like he had with everyone else.
Truth was, Clark didn’t like goodbyes. But his oversight was making coming back to his old life much harder.
“I’ve been fine, thank you. My duty here is never done,” Alfred said, with a tinge of pride in his voice. Clark knew that Alfred was loyal to Bruce to the marrow, and that although he might not like the way Bruce put himself in danger so often, he enjoyed knowing that his one time charge was a man of good. “I hope your travels were fruitful, if not pleasant?”
“They were okay,” Clark said dryly. He was still trying to cope with the knowledge gained on his journey, which was both too much about Earth’s significance and his place on it, and too little about Krypton.
They walked into the study, where Bruce sat behind a big mahogany desk. He was reviewing some papers, clad in black tailored trousers and a burgundy sweater. He looked older, which made sense, and somehow more intense, like he was more real than the things around him.
“Would you be needing anything, Master Bruce?”
“No, thank you, Alfred. We’ll come down later for dinner,” Bruce said, never looking up. Alfred left the room, closing the door behind him, leaving Clark standing in the middle of the study clenching and unclenching his fists.
“Hello, Bruce,” Clark said, feeling his stomach somersault. Five years. It had been five long years.
“Give me a second,” Bruce said and finished signing a document. Then he finally looked up. Timber wolf eyes met azure ones, and Clark noticed that Bruce looked very different. Those eyes had always been smart and sharp, brightly alive and a little sad. They still were, but the man looking at him was wiser, one who had lived through hell and high water, and had remade himself into everything he needed and wanted to be. He had always expected Bruce to get more distant and dark with the years, but the eyes looking back at him were as reliable as they had always been. Clark had trusted this man with his life before and it was good to know that he still could.
Bruce stood up, and walked around the desk, standing in front of him. He offered him his hand, and Clark took it. It was a strong handshake and the contact was reassuring. Without thinking twice, Clark pulled Bruce in for a hug, surprising himself with how much he had missed his friend and how much he had dreaded that this part of his life might not have been retrievable.
“Sit down,” Bruce said, pointing at two chairs facing the huge window, taking a seat himself. Clark followed his lead and then just stared at him. They sat in silence for a minute, and Clark started fidgeting.
“Aren’t you going to ask me anything?” Clark finally asked.
“If it was a pressing matter, you would have told me already. No, I’m not going to ask you anything yet,” Bruce chewed his lower lip, thoughtful. “What do you want to know first?”
“Erm… how have you been?”
Bruce’s gaze met his, almost surprised. “I’ve been fine,” he paused, diverting his gaze. “You know, good days, bad days. Gotham has had some really bad years.”
“What happened?”
“Big earthquake, and an epidemic before that. It was declared No Man’s Land for a year, people were trapped here, there were crime wars; it was…” Bruce sighed. “It was bad.”
“You did a good job,” Clark said, trying to sound reassuring. “I wouldn’t know all that happened by looking at the city.”
“People brought themselves to their feet. It took a lot of hard work.”
Clark looked out the window at the city Bruce fought to protect. It wasn’t clean and bright like Metropolis, but it had it’s own rich appeal.
“How are your boys? You and Dick still at odds? How’s Jason?”
Bruce stiffened and then shifted awkwardly. “Dick and I are working things out. He’s watching over Blüdhaven.” He took a deep breath. “Jason died.”
Clark froze in shock, not knowing what to say. “I’m sorry, I didn’t…”
“It’s okay. You couldn’t have known.”
“When did it happen?”
“A couple of months after you left.”
Clark reached out, and grabbed Bruce’s arm, squeezing it gently. “I’m sorry.”
Bruce just shrugged, not looking at him. Clark knew how bad Bruce was with loss, and hated not having been there for him when it happened. “So, this Oracle person you mentioned earlier?”
“The old Batgirl. She developed a wide network of intel and resources. She’s the eyes and ears of Gotham, runs her own team, the Birds of Prey.”
“Little Babs? She gave up the cape, then?”
Bruce flinched. “She was shot, lost use of her legs. She can’t physically patrol anymore, but she keeps her eyes out for all of us. She’s everywhere.”
Clark looked mortified. What else had gone wrong while he had been away?
“Uhm. You saying ‘old’ Batgirl mean there’s a new one?”
“Yeah. And a new Robin, too. Good kids.”
Clark wanted to know exactly how Bruce could take in more apprentices when two out of the last three had found tragic fates, but a part of him knew better than to ask. Bruce protected his own, fiercily and passionately. If new kids had ended up beneath his wing was because those kids needed to be under someone’s wing.
“Bruce…” Clark moistened his lips, buying himself time. If the past conversation had been pleasantries, what was awaiting him? “You said you needed to talk to me now. What aren’t you telling me?”
Bruce turned to face him, and Clark could see the machinery of his thoughts reeling. Clark was getting very nervous.
“You left without saying goodbye,” Bruce said finally, and for a second Clark thought he saw hurt flicker in his eyes.
“I’m sorry, B. I don’t… I really don’t like goodbyes.”
“You left without saying goodbye to anyone. A month after you left, a friend of yours called me.”
Clark felt his stomach knot. The only friend of Clark who knew Bruce Wayne, and who knew Bruce Wayne was Batman and therefore could ask Batman about Superman, was Lois Lane.
Clark closed his eyes, steeling himself for whatever Bruce would have to say. “What happened to Lois?” He asked in a strained whisper.
“She got pregnant. For all she knew, conceived by the Holy Spirit. I guessed it had been you and some one-night stand gone wrong. You erased her memory of it, didn’t you? Asshole.”
“Lois… pregnant? With my child?” Clark said, under his breath.
“Yes.”
“Did you tell her? Does she know it’s mine?”
“She wasn’t stupid, Clark. The Holy Spirit isn’t exactly a common occurrence these days. She figured it out, that’s why she called me.”
“Wasn’t?” Clark’s voice cracked.
Bruce’s gaze never left his, and his eyes were sad. Bottomless pools of sad blue. “She died at birth. The strain, her body couldn’t take it. I’m sorry.”
Clark felt like the air had suddenly turned liquid, he was choking, his eyes were burning, he felt like shaking Bruce to his senses because Lois Lane couldn’t be dead now that he was back. “It was my fault…” He whispered, and it was Bruce’s turn to reach out and touch him, trying to offer him some kind of comfort.
“She could have terminated the pregnancy, Clark. She knew it would probably kill her, but she chose to have it anyway. She wanted her baby to live.”
Clark could barely hear Bruce. He just sat there, in silence, wondering how could he have missed so much, while he had gained so little. His journey hadn’t been worth this. Maybe he could have helped Lois, in the Fortress… he could have done something, anything… at least he could have told her the truth. He could have at least come clean to her. Instead she died, probably hating him…
Bruce had stood up, and Clark heard him leave the room. He was trying hard to deal with the news, but it was simply too much. Going back to the Planet, to his old job, it was going to be impossible. She was gone, and it was his fault. How could he face his co-workers when he had been responsible for the death of the woman he loved, their friend? He hadn’t even said goodbye.
Clark heard the door open again, and Bruce’s steps were heavy. He stood there, in the middle of the room, facing Clark’s back. Clark had a good idea of what he was going to see if he turned around, but he couldn’t make himself do it.
“Are you my daddy?” a wondering voice asked. The register was high, and the words were articulated softly. Clark’s heart skipped a beat. So young, and the boy already had a Gotham accent.
“Is that Superman, B?” the kid asked again. Clark forced himself to stand up and turn. In Bruce’s arms was a small boy, with wavy chestnut hair and azure eyes. He was pale but his cheeks had a healthy, rosy tint, and the glint in his eyes was eerily disturbing. He looked so much like him, and so much like Lois, and yet there was a young Bat staring straight at him with his arms around Bruce’s neck.
“Hello, uhm… I…” Clark looked at Bruce pleadingly. He didn’t know his own son’s name. Lois had died, and he hadn’t even said goodbye.
“J.J., this is Clark Kent. He’s Superman.”
Two sets of blue eyes were looking very closely at Clark’s every movement and reaction. Clark couldn’t catch his breath.
“What does J.J. stands for?” Clark took two steps towards Bruce and his son, standing just at the edge of his arms reach. If he lifted a hand, he could touch the boy’s hair.
“I’m Jason Jordan Wayne,” the boy said proudly.
Clark’s gaze shifted to Bruce’s, a million questions passing between them.
“After Lois told me, and we found out she was in for a… complicated pregnancy, she was transferred to the Gotham branch of the Planet. I bought the newspaper a few years ago,” he clarified, like it wasn’t a big deal. Bruce had taken over everything in his life while he was gone, trying to fix his mess, and he told the story like it was nothing. “She moved in with me. You remember we had history, and she needed help. She was here when Jason died.” Bruce paused, licking his lips. “She wanted the baby to be named after him. I picked Jordan, for your father.”
Clark was trying to reconcile the idea of Batman, Gotham’s Dark Knight, grieving the loss of his adopted son and protégé, with Lois Lane by his side, four, maybe five months pregnant. Jordan after his father…?
Jor-El. His kryptonian legacy. The reason he had left, Bruce had honored it. Hadn’t the boy asked if he was his father?
“B? Superman looks funny.” The boy was eyeing him warily, like he couldn’t quite believe that the unsteady man in the verge of breakdown was his father. Clark couldn’t believe it himself.
Bruce chuckled. In the middle of all the crushing information he was delivering to Clark, he chuckled. Clark snapped out of it. “I’m Clark, J.J. Out of the cape, I’m Clark.”
“Dad,” Bruce corrected him.
Clark was having trouble understanding Bruce. “You… you gave him your name. You raised him. I didn’t even know… I’m not his father.”
“You are, and will be. J.J. is going to need you to help him figure out his way, and how to control his powers. You’re going to be there for him from now on,” and the look Bruce gave him filled the ‘or else’ that remained unspoken.
“I don’t know if I can move back to Metropolis. Maybe I can return to Smallville…” Clark couldn’t believe Bruce was giving him this piece of life he didn’t even know he had.
Bruce raised an eyebrow, and his grip on J.J. tightened. “If you think you’re taking my son away, you have another thing coming.”
Clark blinked, confused. “You just said…”
“I’m not J.J.’s father, but he is my son. And he’s not leaving my house.”
“Are you going to stay with us, dad?” J.J. asked. The way he was frowning and looking at him, he looked a lot like Bruce.
Clark didn’t know what to ask. Was Bruce telling him to move to Gotham? Was he asking him to live with them? Clark’s memory wasn’t at its best, his mind was still reeling, but he couldn’t remember if Bruce had always been this cryptic and difficult.
“Well, Clark?” Bruce asked, deadly serious. Clark suddenly knew there wasn’t any place for a negative answer.
“Here? In the Manor?” Clark blurted.
“You can live in the stables if it bothers you.”
Clark gaped, and it took him a minute to realize Bruce was joking. The weird Bat humor was obviously not lost on his son, since J.J. was grinning. He tentatively returned the boy’s smile, and J.J.’s laughter filled the room.
“Can I hold him?” he asked with a whisper. Tears were prickling his eyes.
J.J. extended his arms towards him, a little unsure. Clark took his son in his arms for the first time, regretting having lost so much.
“B told me all about you. He says you’re the biggest superhero ever.”
Clark closed his eyes, feeling the weight of the boy’s words heavy on his heart. He would try to live up to them. “Thank you,” he said hoarsely, looking at the wise, sad eyes of his friend. So much had happened. Five years had been a long time.
Bruce smiled, and shrugged. Clark had learnt so much in his travels, and yet nothing could ever prepare him for Bruce Wayne.
He still needed time to cope. He needed to get his life back together. But Bruce had taken care of his life while he was gone, making sure there was still something to come back to.
The world had never stopped turning, not even for Superman. But Clark wasn’t alone, and he would deal.
Superman was back.
tmelange did the beta, and she's awesome :) *huggles T* I hope you find this to your liking, Sasha!
Fandom: (this one is tricky) Superman Returns, DCU and DCAU. Obviously, AU
Rating: PG
Pairing: This is Gen! …for now. Implied Superman/Lois
Summary: It’s been five years since Superman left the Earth. Status quo has changed.
Word Count: 3538
Started on July 23rd 2006 at 9:10 pm
Finished on July 28th 2006 at 2:00 am
Superman Returns Redux Challenge
It started with a crash.
In the years that followed, the crash became the secret genesis of a well-known myth.
Kal-El came to the world in a spaceship from a place far away, carrying with him the last remains of his culture. He grew up on a farm in Kansas, the adoptive son of Jonathan and Martha Kent. Kal-El grew strong under the yellow sun, gifted with amazing powers that allowed him to do great deeds.
Among men, he was like a god. The people called him Superman, and he did his best to live up to the world’s expectations.
Earth gave birth to other champions, brothers in arms with the Man Who Came from the Stars. He swore to protect her, and she had long ago adopted him as one of her own.
The Man of Steel lived and breathed and fought and fell in love, and the world never stopped turning, not even for him.
Searching for his heritage, Kal-El of Krypton left his adoptive planet, leaving it in the capable hands of his brothers in arms. He knew that Earth would still be there when he returned, for Earth’s heroes were brave and strong.
After a while, Kal-El came back.
He arrived with a crash, very similar to the one that had started it all, unaware that the world never stops turning.
Not even for Superman.
---
Clark stirred, feeling sore and impossibly tired. The sun kissed his face, and he could hear the birds outside and the rich quietness of the morning. He was home.
He stood up, stretching carefully, and walked into the bathroom. He opened the faucet, and splashed his face. He stared at himself in the mirror, seeing his face clearly reflected for the first time in… too long. He had been away for too long, and he hadn’t found what he was looking for. Krypton was nothing but debris, an asteroid cloud without any trace of the people who lived there, the people who gave him birth.
It hadn’t been a fruitless journey, though. It gave him perspective and knowledge. The Earth and Mankind were but grains of sand in the universe, so small, meaningless and fragile. But maybe meaningless wasn’t the word he wanted, because he had barely seen others in his years of travel, and how he had missed the warmth and the joy of living among people, even if he had always felt out of place on his adoptive planet. Mankind was an ephemeral but precious thing, and his place was among them.
He started changing his clothes, wanting more than anything to explore and run through the fields of his childhood, under his sun, cruising the clear blue skies. As he headed down the stair of the silent house, he heard the phone ringing. Ma wasn’t home, and he wasn’t sure if he even should pick up the phone since nobody knew he was back yet, but curiosity won him over. Who would call the Kent farm so early in the morning?
“Hello?” he asked with a big grin on his face. What had been his first actions since coming back to Earth? Wash his face, put on a t-shirt and some old jeans and answer the phone. Not very super at all, and he was loving it.
“You’re back,” the voice stated, not asked. The feeling of not knowing what to answer to the not question was a familiar one.
“Hey, Bruce. What are you doing up so early?” Clark played with the phone cord, leaning against the wall. He was a bit rusty, but he still knew how to play their game.
There was a soft sigh at the other end of the line, followed by a heavy silence. Clark could tell Bruce was going over all the things he needed to know now and how Clark’s tendency to pleasantries was delaying the answers. “Haven’t gone to bed yet, actually.” Clark grinned, forcing Bruce to be civilized was a sound victory.
“That’s a long night.”
“You have no idea,” Bruce said under his breath. Clark could hear typing in the background. Bruce was most likely still in the Cave.
“Any reports of falling meteorites in the Kansas area?” Clark asked innocently. It was a little unnerving how Bruce knew of things almost as soon as they happened, but then, Batman had always been like that. The more the world changed, the more it stayed the same.
“Not anymore.”
“Anymore?” Clark frowned, confused.
“My systems picked up your trajectory, and Oracle confirmed it was you at your entry. She erased all records of the event.”
“Uh, thanks,” Clark said, still frowning. “I think. Who’s Oracle?”
“There’s a lot you need to be briefed about. Soon.”
“I’ll drop by as soon as I get myself on my feet. I have to pull together what’s left of my life here…”
“I meant ‘soon’ as in ‘now’.”
“Yeah, I’m going to be a bit busy, B. It’s going to have to wait. I need to go back to Metropolis before I start dealing with any cape business,” Clark said, annoyed. He had forgotten how frustrating Bruce could be.
“Alfred is making dinner. Be here at six.”
The line went dead, leaving Clark staring at the phone and thinking about setting it on fire. He took a deep breath, and hung up.
Ma wasn’t going to be pleased to know he was missing dinner on his first day back.
---
“Good evening, Master Kent,” Alfred opened the door, stepping aside to let Clark in the Manor. Bruce’s home had always seemed too big for the man, even with Dick and then Jason living with him. It appeared to be fit for banquets and parties, which weren’t a normal occurrence these days, and with only three people to fill it, it had always seemed ominous to Clark. Yet, somehow, the house seemed less threatening that day. Clark thought it might have been a change in his perspective, but with Bruce, you could never be sure.
“Master Bruce is waiting for you in the study,” Alfred said as he took Clark’s coat. “If you would follow me.”
“Thank you, Alfred.” Clark walked two steps behind the older man, wondering if he should say something to him. He had been gone for five years, after all. “Have you… how has… It’s been a long time since I last saw you, Alfred.”
“Indeed, Master Kent. If you mean to ask how everything has been in the household, you might have to ask Master Bruce. He is very interested in talking to you about your time of absence, I believe.”
“I’ll ask him then. What about you? How have you been?” Clark felt a flush creep across his cheeks. Talking with Alfred about his time away was much like talking to his mother. He should have said something before leaving. The times Alfred had made Clark tea and had given him pleasant translations of gruff bat-speak were countless. He had been a friend to Clark, and Clark had just disappeared on him, like he had with everyone else.
Truth was, Clark didn’t like goodbyes. But his oversight was making coming back to his old life much harder.
“I’ve been fine, thank you. My duty here is never done,” Alfred said, with a tinge of pride in his voice. Clark knew that Alfred was loyal to Bruce to the marrow, and that although he might not like the way Bruce put himself in danger so often, he enjoyed knowing that his one time charge was a man of good. “I hope your travels were fruitful, if not pleasant?”
“They were okay,” Clark said dryly. He was still trying to cope with the knowledge gained on his journey, which was both too much about Earth’s significance and his place on it, and too little about Krypton.
They walked into the study, where Bruce sat behind a big mahogany desk. He was reviewing some papers, clad in black tailored trousers and a burgundy sweater. He looked older, which made sense, and somehow more intense, like he was more real than the things around him.
“Would you be needing anything, Master Bruce?”
“No, thank you, Alfred. We’ll come down later for dinner,” Bruce said, never looking up. Alfred left the room, closing the door behind him, leaving Clark standing in the middle of the study clenching and unclenching his fists.
“Hello, Bruce,” Clark said, feeling his stomach somersault. Five years. It had been five long years.
“Give me a second,” Bruce said and finished signing a document. Then he finally looked up. Timber wolf eyes met azure ones, and Clark noticed that Bruce looked very different. Those eyes had always been smart and sharp, brightly alive and a little sad. They still were, but the man looking at him was wiser, one who had lived through hell and high water, and had remade himself into everything he needed and wanted to be. He had always expected Bruce to get more distant and dark with the years, but the eyes looking back at him were as reliable as they had always been. Clark had trusted this man with his life before and it was good to know that he still could.
Bruce stood up, and walked around the desk, standing in front of him. He offered him his hand, and Clark took it. It was a strong handshake and the contact was reassuring. Without thinking twice, Clark pulled Bruce in for a hug, surprising himself with how much he had missed his friend and how much he had dreaded that this part of his life might not have been retrievable.
“Sit down,” Bruce said, pointing at two chairs facing the huge window, taking a seat himself. Clark followed his lead and then just stared at him. They sat in silence for a minute, and Clark started fidgeting.
“Aren’t you going to ask me anything?” Clark finally asked.
“If it was a pressing matter, you would have told me already. No, I’m not going to ask you anything yet,” Bruce chewed his lower lip, thoughtful. “What do you want to know first?”
“Erm… how have you been?”
Bruce’s gaze met his, almost surprised. “I’ve been fine,” he paused, diverting his gaze. “You know, good days, bad days. Gotham has had some really bad years.”
“What happened?”
“Big earthquake, and an epidemic before that. It was declared No Man’s Land for a year, people were trapped here, there were crime wars; it was…” Bruce sighed. “It was bad.”
“You did a good job,” Clark said, trying to sound reassuring. “I wouldn’t know all that happened by looking at the city.”
“People brought themselves to their feet. It took a lot of hard work.”
Clark looked out the window at the city Bruce fought to protect. It wasn’t clean and bright like Metropolis, but it had it’s own rich appeal.
“How are your boys? You and Dick still at odds? How’s Jason?”
Bruce stiffened and then shifted awkwardly. “Dick and I are working things out. He’s watching over Blüdhaven.” He took a deep breath. “Jason died.”
Clark froze in shock, not knowing what to say. “I’m sorry, I didn’t…”
“It’s okay. You couldn’t have known.”
“When did it happen?”
“A couple of months after you left.”
Clark reached out, and grabbed Bruce’s arm, squeezing it gently. “I’m sorry.”
Bruce just shrugged, not looking at him. Clark knew how bad Bruce was with loss, and hated not having been there for him when it happened. “So, this Oracle person you mentioned earlier?”
“The old Batgirl. She developed a wide network of intel and resources. She’s the eyes and ears of Gotham, runs her own team, the Birds of Prey.”
“Little Babs? She gave up the cape, then?”
Bruce flinched. “She was shot, lost use of her legs. She can’t physically patrol anymore, but she keeps her eyes out for all of us. She’s everywhere.”
Clark looked mortified. What else had gone wrong while he had been away?
“Uhm. You saying ‘old’ Batgirl mean there’s a new one?”
“Yeah. And a new Robin, too. Good kids.”
Clark wanted to know exactly how Bruce could take in more apprentices when two out of the last three had found tragic fates, but a part of him knew better than to ask. Bruce protected his own, fiercily and passionately. If new kids had ended up beneath his wing was because those kids needed to be under someone’s wing.
“Bruce…” Clark moistened his lips, buying himself time. If the past conversation had been pleasantries, what was awaiting him? “You said you needed to talk to me now. What aren’t you telling me?”
Bruce turned to face him, and Clark could see the machinery of his thoughts reeling. Clark was getting very nervous.
“You left without saying goodbye,” Bruce said finally, and for a second Clark thought he saw hurt flicker in his eyes.
“I’m sorry, B. I don’t… I really don’t like goodbyes.”
“You left without saying goodbye to anyone. A month after you left, a friend of yours called me.”
Clark felt his stomach knot. The only friend of Clark who knew Bruce Wayne, and who knew Bruce Wayne was Batman and therefore could ask Batman about Superman, was Lois Lane.
Clark closed his eyes, steeling himself for whatever Bruce would have to say. “What happened to Lois?” He asked in a strained whisper.
“She got pregnant. For all she knew, conceived by the Holy Spirit. I guessed it had been you and some one-night stand gone wrong. You erased her memory of it, didn’t you? Asshole.”
“Lois… pregnant? With my child?” Clark said, under his breath.
“Yes.”
“Did you tell her? Does she know it’s mine?”
“She wasn’t stupid, Clark. The Holy Spirit isn’t exactly a common occurrence these days. She figured it out, that’s why she called me.”
“Wasn’t?” Clark’s voice cracked.
Bruce’s gaze never left his, and his eyes were sad. Bottomless pools of sad blue. “She died at birth. The strain, her body couldn’t take it. I’m sorry.”
Clark felt like the air had suddenly turned liquid, he was choking, his eyes were burning, he felt like shaking Bruce to his senses because Lois Lane couldn’t be dead now that he was back. “It was my fault…” He whispered, and it was Bruce’s turn to reach out and touch him, trying to offer him some kind of comfort.
“She could have terminated the pregnancy, Clark. She knew it would probably kill her, but she chose to have it anyway. She wanted her baby to live.”
Clark could barely hear Bruce. He just sat there, in silence, wondering how could he have missed so much, while he had gained so little. His journey hadn’t been worth this. Maybe he could have helped Lois, in the Fortress… he could have done something, anything… at least he could have told her the truth. He could have at least come clean to her. Instead she died, probably hating him…
Bruce had stood up, and Clark heard him leave the room. He was trying hard to deal with the news, but it was simply too much. Going back to the Planet, to his old job, it was going to be impossible. She was gone, and it was his fault. How could he face his co-workers when he had been responsible for the death of the woman he loved, their friend? He hadn’t even said goodbye.
Clark heard the door open again, and Bruce’s steps were heavy. He stood there, in the middle of the room, facing Clark’s back. Clark had a good idea of what he was going to see if he turned around, but he couldn’t make himself do it.
“Are you my daddy?” a wondering voice asked. The register was high, and the words were articulated softly. Clark’s heart skipped a beat. So young, and the boy already had a Gotham accent.
“Is that Superman, B?” the kid asked again. Clark forced himself to stand up and turn. In Bruce’s arms was a small boy, with wavy chestnut hair and azure eyes. He was pale but his cheeks had a healthy, rosy tint, and the glint in his eyes was eerily disturbing. He looked so much like him, and so much like Lois, and yet there was a young Bat staring straight at him with his arms around Bruce’s neck.
“Hello, uhm… I…” Clark looked at Bruce pleadingly. He didn’t know his own son’s name. Lois had died, and he hadn’t even said goodbye.
“J.J., this is Clark Kent. He’s Superman.”
Two sets of blue eyes were looking very closely at Clark’s every movement and reaction. Clark couldn’t catch his breath.
“What does J.J. stands for?” Clark took two steps towards Bruce and his son, standing just at the edge of his arms reach. If he lifted a hand, he could touch the boy’s hair.
“I’m Jason Jordan Wayne,” the boy said proudly.
Clark’s gaze shifted to Bruce’s, a million questions passing between them.
“After Lois told me, and we found out she was in for a… complicated pregnancy, she was transferred to the Gotham branch of the Planet. I bought the newspaper a few years ago,” he clarified, like it wasn’t a big deal. Bruce had taken over everything in his life while he was gone, trying to fix his mess, and he told the story like it was nothing. “She moved in with me. You remember we had history, and she needed help. She was here when Jason died.” Bruce paused, licking his lips. “She wanted the baby to be named after him. I picked Jordan, for your father.”
Clark was trying to reconcile the idea of Batman, Gotham’s Dark Knight, grieving the loss of his adopted son and protégé, with Lois Lane by his side, four, maybe five months pregnant. Jordan after his father…?
Jor-El. His kryptonian legacy. The reason he had left, Bruce had honored it. Hadn’t the boy asked if he was his father?
“B? Superman looks funny.” The boy was eyeing him warily, like he couldn’t quite believe that the unsteady man in the verge of breakdown was his father. Clark couldn’t believe it himself.
Bruce chuckled. In the middle of all the crushing information he was delivering to Clark, he chuckled. Clark snapped out of it. “I’m Clark, J.J. Out of the cape, I’m Clark.”
“Dad,” Bruce corrected him.
Clark was having trouble understanding Bruce. “You… you gave him your name. You raised him. I didn’t even know… I’m not his father.”
“You are, and will be. J.J. is going to need you to help him figure out his way, and how to control his powers. You’re going to be there for him from now on,” and the look Bruce gave him filled the ‘or else’ that remained unspoken.
“I don’t know if I can move back to Metropolis. Maybe I can return to Smallville…” Clark couldn’t believe Bruce was giving him this piece of life he didn’t even know he had.
Bruce raised an eyebrow, and his grip on J.J. tightened. “If you think you’re taking my son away, you have another thing coming.”
Clark blinked, confused. “You just said…”
“I’m not J.J.’s father, but he is my son. And he’s not leaving my house.”
“Are you going to stay with us, dad?” J.J. asked. The way he was frowning and looking at him, he looked a lot like Bruce.
Clark didn’t know what to ask. Was Bruce telling him to move to Gotham? Was he asking him to live with them? Clark’s memory wasn’t at its best, his mind was still reeling, but he couldn’t remember if Bruce had always been this cryptic and difficult.
“Well, Clark?” Bruce asked, deadly serious. Clark suddenly knew there wasn’t any place for a negative answer.
“Here? In the Manor?” Clark blurted.
“You can live in the stables if it bothers you.”
Clark gaped, and it took him a minute to realize Bruce was joking. The weird Bat humor was obviously not lost on his son, since J.J. was grinning. He tentatively returned the boy’s smile, and J.J.’s laughter filled the room.
“Can I hold him?” he asked with a whisper. Tears were prickling his eyes.
J.J. extended his arms towards him, a little unsure. Clark took his son in his arms for the first time, regretting having lost so much.
“B told me all about you. He says you’re the biggest superhero ever.”
Clark closed his eyes, feeling the weight of the boy’s words heavy on his heart. He would try to live up to them. “Thank you,” he said hoarsely, looking at the wise, sad eyes of his friend. So much had happened. Five years had been a long time.
Bruce smiled, and shrugged. Clark had learnt so much in his travels, and yet nothing could ever prepare him for Bruce Wayne.
He still needed time to cope. He needed to get his life back together. But Bruce had taken care of his life while he was gone, making sure there was still something to come back to.
The world had never stopped turning, not even for Superman. But Clark wasn’t alone, and he would deal.
Superman was back.