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seriousficTitle: Duality
Fandom: Nolanverse Batman, Superman Returns
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2,404
Characters/Pairings: Superman, Barbara Gordon, Tim Drake, Dick Grayson
Previous Part: 31
Summary: The Joker delivers his punchline.
Superman flew across the Eastern Seaboard so quickly that over two hundred airplanes experienced turbulence at the exact same moment. Wayne Manor grew from a speck to an estate in a blink. Superman hit a floor-to-ceiling window fast enough to pull the entire pane from its frame, peppering the walls as he sped down corridors to the source of Bruce’s dozen scents—blood, cologne, sweat, shampoo, adrenaline. And that cold, limp thing on the floor, that couldn’t be Bruce. It had no heartbeat and Bruce had the strongest heartbeat Clark had ever heard. Never missed a beat.
There was a man over Bruce (not Bruce, never) with a syringe in his hand. An empty syringe. Superman picked him up with one hand, never so completely aware of how fragile the human body was.
“What happened? Tell me the truth or I swear to heaven I’ll—“
“You’ll what, Kal? Kill Gotham’s DA?” Bruce coughed as he sat up. “I think that’d be taking partisan politics too far.”
“Bruce!” Superman was so surprised that he dropped Harvey, then caught him and set him down more gently. “I thought you were dead!”
“A necessary deception to escape the Joker’s scrutiny. I would’ve informed you, but time was of the essence and you had your own problems.”
“Well, hm, Superman,” Harvey stammered. “I dressed as you for a costume party.”
“Really? I don’t get that. I’m always worried the cape makes me look ridiculous.”
“Harvey’s made the proper arrangements with Gordon. I’ll be considered dead until the Joker is dealt with.” He coughed to cover up the unintentional pun.
Superman blinked, unable to conceal his wide grin. Bruce was alive! He’s never really felt as alone as he had for those few minutes the news report had echoed in his ears, telling him his friend was gone. Even with Kara, even with Lois, Bruce was someone who felt as he felt and believed what he believed, even if he didn’t like to admit it. There was a bond there he couldn’t have with anyone else.
But what Bruce had just said shook it to the core. “But Gotham… you said you wanted to be a symbol.”
“I will. In death, I’ll become a martyr.” Bruce got to his feet. “More importantly, this will introduce an unexpected variable into Joker’s plan. How he reacts will be invaluable to catching him.”
“Okay, let’s just pretend we went through the entire argument of how crazy that is.. and go back to how goddamned happy I am that you’re alive!” He picked Bruce up in a powerful hug.
“Kal, not in front of the DA.”
Alfred cleared his throat. “Master Wayne, Master Dent, Master Man, events have transpired I think you should be aware of.”
***
The Joker’s new video started with him sitting in a wingchair in front of a roaring fire, writing on a notepad in delicate calligraphy. He ‘noticed’ the camera and startled as it zoomed in on him.
“Oh, hello. I didn’t see you there. Perhaps you’ve heard of me, but I don’t think we’ve been formerly introduced. I’m the Joker and I’m here to brighten your day, lighten your load, and make this old sourpuss city just a little happier. I’m versed in all kinds of comedy. Verbal: NO DADDY DON’T HIT ME! Physical--”
He drew a gun and shot the cameraman. The camera tilted to a Dutch angle.
“Sorry Bob, had to make my point. Bob’s my cameraman. And finally, the greatest of all comedic forms… J.D. Salinger MadLibs. ‘If you lewdly want to fart about it, the first thing you'll probably want to know is where I was raped, and what my bloody childhood was like, and how my Jews were occupied and all before they had me, and all that Gwynplaine kind of Republican, but I don't feel like going into it, if you want to masturbate the Canada. In the first place, that stuff kills me, and in the second place, my Jews would have about 69 bunnies apiece if I told anything pretty painful about them. They're quite acidic about anything like that, especially my Holocaust.’”
“That’s… insensitive,” Superman said.
Bruce and Harvey gave him a brief look before turning back to the camera. Joker was swinging the camera around like a dance partner, finishing with it aimed at a Wheel of Fortune with names written on it instead of prizes. Harvey recognized his own name.
“Now that I’ve put Bruce Wayne on ice, I suppose it’s time for a punchline. Yes, it’s that time again. No, not to put large foreign objects into small bodily orifices or to floss. Time for the Wheel of Mortality!”
The camera began to tilt. Joker fixed it, then gave the Wheel a spin.
“Wheel of Morality, turn turn turn, tell us the sucker who’s going to burn! And the Finger of Death points to…”
The ticker flipped past Barbara Gordon. Slowed. James Gordon. Licked across the next band with glacial speed and landed on Oswald Cobblepot.
“Oswald Cobblepot! Guess penguins really are endangered. I’ll be killing him within the hour so if you’re his dry cleaner, you know, don’t bother.”
Bruce paused the tape after the first twenty seconds of laughter.
“Well, it’s good to see he’s turning over a new leaf,” Harvey said.
Superman whirled on him. “You can’t mean that!”
“Enough,” Bruce said, already rewinding the recording. “Harv, you’d better get back before they notice you’re missing.”
“Sure. And be careful, Bruce. You still owe me a ride in the Batmobile.”
Kal watched Harvey go, didn’t say anything as Bruce replayed the tape. “So, he seems nice…”
“The Joker took credit for my death. He shouldn’t have—his psychosis craves attention, recognition. Someone else beating him to the punch should’ve thrown him off.”
Kal recognized Bruce going into Batmode. It was times like these he knew he wasn’t wanted. As quietly as possible, he headed for the door.
“Clark, I could use your help on this.”
Kal resisted the urge to clean his ears out. “What makes you say that?”
“When I found out who you were, I almost couldn’t believe it. Why would the most powerful being on Earth spend time as a… Clark Kent. But then I met Lois and Jimmy and your mother. I thought if I didn’t need anyone, that made me strong. But you get your strength from your friends. That’s what makes you a hero. I’d like to be a hero, Clark. Just once.”
Kal smiled. “Then let’s go save the world. We’ll see about you getting the girl later.”
***
Talia waited, watching with rapt fascination. No matter how many times she was brought to the outside world, its casual technological superiority surprised her. It wasn’t that her own land was lacking. The herbs that grew only in the springs of Lazarus were behind her current success. But the way these people could have so much power at their fingers and only use it for corruption… it could still bring tears to her eyes.
Still, the wonders of modern chemistry could not be denied. She watched the plus sign appear.
She was pregnant.
***
Chloe ran her hands over Batgirl’s breasts, her face, her cowl. “I’ve wanted this… for so long…”
“So have I,” Batgirl moaned. “But first things first.” They turned to Tim, their hands slowly pulling back his bedsheets, slithering onto his chest… “Wake up!”
Tim’s eyes shot open. Spoiler had her fists full of his pajamas and was shaking him like a piggybank with the ice cream truck nearby. “Wake your rich bitch ass up!”
Tim slapped at her with both hands, trying to get her off him while at the same time not harming what he was pretty sure was a girl. Spoiler slapped back at him. For a moment, they both flailed at each other.
“Tim? Are you alright?” Tim’s mom called.
Tim and Spoiler slapped hands over each others’ mouth. Tim said “I’m fine mom!”, then more understandably when he pushed Spoiler’s hand away.
“Alright, dear. Your clean undies are on the steps.”
They heard her leave. Tim shrugged. “Now, why are you interrupting my afternoon constitutional?”
“It’s a nap, Drake.” She rolled off him, onto a sit. “The Joker has something really big planned. I need to talk to Batman. The real thing this time.”
Tim thought back to the photo he’d seen in that morning’s paper of Batman and Batgirl together. “No prob.”
***
Barbara looked longingly at her costume before shoving it into the false bottom of her suitcase. Right now, if her father needed to know she was safe to do his job, that was that. She told herself she didn’t have enough training to do any good anyway.
It wasn’t like she was afraid.
Someone knocked at her door. Barbara locked her uniform away. “Yes?”
Dick pushed her door open. “Hey.”
”Hey.”
“I thought meeting your dad would go bad, but I didn’t expect to be fleeing the city.”
Barbara smiled. “Things are getting better. Gotham will recover.”
“If you say so.” He stepped into her room. “I’m coming with you.”
“What about your family?”
Dick glanced away momentarily. “They’re Roma. They can handle themselves.”
“So can my mom. She used to be a cop. And I’m not so bad in a fight myself.”
“That I can believe.” He briefly grinned before his determination took hold again. “I love you. I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you.”
“You love me,” Barbara repeated dumbly. She’d never heard him say it with such force before.
“Yeah. Kinda. Yeah.” Dick rubbed his nose. “I’ll just sit next to you. And if anything happens, I’ll be there to swoop in, save the day.”
“Yeah, that’d be nice.” Her phone rang. She checked the caller ID. “I gotta take this. See you in the car?”
Dick smiled. Kissed his fingertips and tapped them to her door before leaving.
“Batgirl here. What’s the sitch?”
***
“Anything?” Bruce asked.
“Nothing,” Clark’s voice came over the radio. “You know this city uses a lot of lead paint. You should probably look into that. For the kids.”
“Keep searching. Whatever he has planned, the Joker will want to be close enough to taste it.”
“We’ll find him.”
Bruce shut off the comline. Harvey had his wife to look after. Clark had his crusade. He’d been left alone in the cave, with what? A mission? A partner half his age? Talia…
He shook it off. Focused. Punchline. The Joker had said he needed a new punchline. There were only three men he’d deliberately sought to kill, announcing his murders ahead of time, fetishizing them. Bill Earle, Bruce Wayne, Oswald Cobblepot. No connection. He’d even gone out of the way to point out how there was no logic to Cobblepot’s selection. So… what was the logic?
Someone was calling him. Considering he was dead, the potential list of callers was short. “Hello?”
“Knew it!” Barbara cheered. “You’re too hardassed to die.”
“You can’t tell—“
“Anyone, I know, I know.” Barbara was whispering, her voice accompanied by the rumble of an engine and the sounds of traffic. “Listen, me and my family, we’re blowing this city before this city blows up.”
“That’s… unfortunate. I could’ve used you.” Punchline. What was a punchline? Englishman, Irishman, and Scotsman walk into a bar, the Scotsman is the punchline. Three panels in the comic strip. Rule of three.
“You could? Never mind. The Joker’s planning to blow up the city building by building.”
Comedy rule of three. Bill Earle set the pattern. “Who’s your source?” Bruce Wayne reinforced the pattern.
“Tim Drake. He’s given me good tips before. He says the bombs are—“
The call was cut off in a roar of glass and metal.
“Barbara!”
The third part broke the pattern.
***
“This is fucked-up!” Artie said, watching the minivan roll to a stop, a hole punched in its side from the SUV. “I hear that Superman’s in town. He’s probably already taking us to jail!”
Joker clapped his cheeks. “Always look on the bright side of life! I set off some of the fireworks early. That reddish-blue blur has a train to catch. Now c’mon, let’s pick up some hitchhikers.”
Joker and his gang surrounded the wreck, which had miraculously landed upright. Even the wheels were bent. Smoke poured out from under the hood, matching the blood dripping out from under the doors.
“Engine trouble?” The Joker pulled the side-door off its hinges—an easy feat. Barbara’s arm hung out. “Sssh!” he hissed at his men. “She’s resting! Hey, is it true you shouldn’t move someone who’d been in a car accident?” He slapped a hand down on Barbara’s shoulder. “Do you know if you should move someone after an accident? Hey, I asked you a question!” He grabbed both shoulders and began to shake. “Should you move someone after they’ve been in an accident!?”
“Get away from her!” Dick was pointing Sarah’s gun at him. “Right now!”
Artie muttered under his breath and inched away from the confrontation.
The Joker smiled. “You’re not going to shoot me, kiddo.”
Dick pulled the trigger.
Nothing happened.
Joker snatched the gun away. “Safety’s on.” He pistol-whipped Dick to the ground and clicked the safety off.
Artie ran for it.
Dick looked up at him, weaving in and out of consciousness. “Kill me. You’d better kill me now, because if you don’t, I swear to God I’ll see you die screaming.”
Joker stomped on his face, putting him out. “Wouldn’t that be funny.”
His men had secured the Dents into the ambulance. Joker threw on a doctor’s coat and climbed in with them. Sirens wailing, they drove off.
Dick’s eyes opened a minute later. He was bleeding, he could feel it running down his face, but he could see the ambulance getting away. He struggled to his feet. Needed a weapon. Needed something. He looked around and something metallic caught his eye, something sharp. It’d been in one of the suitcases that had ruptured during the crash.
A Batarang.
He opened the suitcase. Past the schoolbooks was a secret compartment, splintered open. It was filled with black leather. He tugged at it, unraveling it. Some of it was hard as armor, other bits were supple as a blanket. Then he saw the yellow bat emblazoned on the leather and everything clicked into place.
Fandom: Nolanverse Batman, Superman Returns
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2,404
Characters/Pairings: Superman, Barbara Gordon, Tim Drake, Dick Grayson
Previous Part: 31
Summary: The Joker delivers his punchline.
Superman flew across the Eastern Seaboard so quickly that over two hundred airplanes experienced turbulence at the exact same moment. Wayne Manor grew from a speck to an estate in a blink. Superman hit a floor-to-ceiling window fast enough to pull the entire pane from its frame, peppering the walls as he sped down corridors to the source of Bruce’s dozen scents—blood, cologne, sweat, shampoo, adrenaline. And that cold, limp thing on the floor, that couldn’t be Bruce. It had no heartbeat and Bruce had the strongest heartbeat Clark had ever heard. Never missed a beat.
There was a man over Bruce (not Bruce, never) with a syringe in his hand. An empty syringe. Superman picked him up with one hand, never so completely aware of how fragile the human body was.
“What happened? Tell me the truth or I swear to heaven I’ll—“
“You’ll what, Kal? Kill Gotham’s DA?” Bruce coughed as he sat up. “I think that’d be taking partisan politics too far.”
“Bruce!” Superman was so surprised that he dropped Harvey, then caught him and set him down more gently. “I thought you were dead!”
“A necessary deception to escape the Joker’s scrutiny. I would’ve informed you, but time was of the essence and you had your own problems.”
“Well, hm, Superman,” Harvey stammered. “I dressed as you for a costume party.”
“Really? I don’t get that. I’m always worried the cape makes me look ridiculous.”
“Harvey’s made the proper arrangements with Gordon. I’ll be considered dead until the Joker is dealt with.” He coughed to cover up the unintentional pun.
Superman blinked, unable to conceal his wide grin. Bruce was alive! He’s never really felt as alone as he had for those few minutes the news report had echoed in his ears, telling him his friend was gone. Even with Kara, even with Lois, Bruce was someone who felt as he felt and believed what he believed, even if he didn’t like to admit it. There was a bond there he couldn’t have with anyone else.
But what Bruce had just said shook it to the core. “But Gotham… you said you wanted to be a symbol.”
“I will. In death, I’ll become a martyr.” Bruce got to his feet. “More importantly, this will introduce an unexpected variable into Joker’s plan. How he reacts will be invaluable to catching him.”
“Okay, let’s just pretend we went through the entire argument of how crazy that is.. and go back to how goddamned happy I am that you’re alive!” He picked Bruce up in a powerful hug.
“Kal, not in front of the DA.”
Alfred cleared his throat. “Master Wayne, Master Dent, Master Man, events have transpired I think you should be aware of.”
***
The Joker’s new video started with him sitting in a wingchair in front of a roaring fire, writing on a notepad in delicate calligraphy. He ‘noticed’ the camera and startled as it zoomed in on him.
“Oh, hello. I didn’t see you there. Perhaps you’ve heard of me, but I don’t think we’ve been formerly introduced. I’m the Joker and I’m here to brighten your day, lighten your load, and make this old sourpuss city just a little happier. I’m versed in all kinds of comedy. Verbal: NO DADDY DON’T HIT ME! Physical--”
He drew a gun and shot the cameraman. The camera tilted to a Dutch angle.
“Sorry Bob, had to make my point. Bob’s my cameraman. And finally, the greatest of all comedic forms… J.D. Salinger MadLibs. ‘If you lewdly want to fart about it, the first thing you'll probably want to know is where I was raped, and what my bloody childhood was like, and how my Jews were occupied and all before they had me, and all that Gwynplaine kind of Republican, but I don't feel like going into it, if you want to masturbate the Canada. In the first place, that stuff kills me, and in the second place, my Jews would have about 69 bunnies apiece if I told anything pretty painful about them. They're quite acidic about anything like that, especially my Holocaust.’”
“That’s… insensitive,” Superman said.
Bruce and Harvey gave him a brief look before turning back to the camera. Joker was swinging the camera around like a dance partner, finishing with it aimed at a Wheel of Fortune with names written on it instead of prizes. Harvey recognized his own name.
“Now that I’ve put Bruce Wayne on ice, I suppose it’s time for a punchline. Yes, it’s that time again. No, not to put large foreign objects into small bodily orifices or to floss. Time for the Wheel of Mortality!”
The camera began to tilt. Joker fixed it, then gave the Wheel a spin.
“Wheel of Morality, turn turn turn, tell us the sucker who’s going to burn! And the Finger of Death points to…”
The ticker flipped past Barbara Gordon. Slowed. James Gordon. Licked across the next band with glacial speed and landed on Oswald Cobblepot.
“Oswald Cobblepot! Guess penguins really are endangered. I’ll be killing him within the hour so if you’re his dry cleaner, you know, don’t bother.”
Bruce paused the tape after the first twenty seconds of laughter.
“Well, it’s good to see he’s turning over a new leaf,” Harvey said.
Superman whirled on him. “You can’t mean that!”
“Enough,” Bruce said, already rewinding the recording. “Harv, you’d better get back before they notice you’re missing.”
“Sure. And be careful, Bruce. You still owe me a ride in the Batmobile.”
Kal watched Harvey go, didn’t say anything as Bruce replayed the tape. “So, he seems nice…”
“The Joker took credit for my death. He shouldn’t have—his psychosis craves attention, recognition. Someone else beating him to the punch should’ve thrown him off.”
Kal recognized Bruce going into Batmode. It was times like these he knew he wasn’t wanted. As quietly as possible, he headed for the door.
“Clark, I could use your help on this.”
Kal resisted the urge to clean his ears out. “What makes you say that?”
“When I found out who you were, I almost couldn’t believe it. Why would the most powerful being on Earth spend time as a… Clark Kent. But then I met Lois and Jimmy and your mother. I thought if I didn’t need anyone, that made me strong. But you get your strength from your friends. That’s what makes you a hero. I’d like to be a hero, Clark. Just once.”
Kal smiled. “Then let’s go save the world. We’ll see about you getting the girl later.”
***
Talia waited, watching with rapt fascination. No matter how many times she was brought to the outside world, its casual technological superiority surprised her. It wasn’t that her own land was lacking. The herbs that grew only in the springs of Lazarus were behind her current success. But the way these people could have so much power at their fingers and only use it for corruption… it could still bring tears to her eyes.
Still, the wonders of modern chemistry could not be denied. She watched the plus sign appear.
She was pregnant.
***
Chloe ran her hands over Batgirl’s breasts, her face, her cowl. “I’ve wanted this… for so long…”
“So have I,” Batgirl moaned. “But first things first.” They turned to Tim, their hands slowly pulling back his bedsheets, slithering onto his chest… “Wake up!”
Tim’s eyes shot open. Spoiler had her fists full of his pajamas and was shaking him like a piggybank with the ice cream truck nearby. “Wake your rich bitch ass up!”
Tim slapped at her with both hands, trying to get her off him while at the same time not harming what he was pretty sure was a girl. Spoiler slapped back at him. For a moment, they both flailed at each other.
“Tim? Are you alright?” Tim’s mom called.
Tim and Spoiler slapped hands over each others’ mouth. Tim said “I’m fine mom!”, then more understandably when he pushed Spoiler’s hand away.
“Alright, dear. Your clean undies are on the steps.”
They heard her leave. Tim shrugged. “Now, why are you interrupting my afternoon constitutional?”
“It’s a nap, Drake.” She rolled off him, onto a sit. “The Joker has something really big planned. I need to talk to Batman. The real thing this time.”
Tim thought back to the photo he’d seen in that morning’s paper of Batman and Batgirl together. “No prob.”
***
Barbara looked longingly at her costume before shoving it into the false bottom of her suitcase. Right now, if her father needed to know she was safe to do his job, that was that. She told herself she didn’t have enough training to do any good anyway.
It wasn’t like she was afraid.
Someone knocked at her door. Barbara locked her uniform away. “Yes?”
Dick pushed her door open. “Hey.”
”Hey.”
“I thought meeting your dad would go bad, but I didn’t expect to be fleeing the city.”
Barbara smiled. “Things are getting better. Gotham will recover.”
“If you say so.” He stepped into her room. “I’m coming with you.”
“What about your family?”
Dick glanced away momentarily. “They’re Roma. They can handle themselves.”
“So can my mom. She used to be a cop. And I’m not so bad in a fight myself.”
“That I can believe.” He briefly grinned before his determination took hold again. “I love you. I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you.”
“You love me,” Barbara repeated dumbly. She’d never heard him say it with such force before.
“Yeah. Kinda. Yeah.” Dick rubbed his nose. “I’ll just sit next to you. And if anything happens, I’ll be there to swoop in, save the day.”
“Yeah, that’d be nice.” Her phone rang. She checked the caller ID. “I gotta take this. See you in the car?”
Dick smiled. Kissed his fingertips and tapped them to her door before leaving.
“Batgirl here. What’s the sitch?”
***
“Anything?” Bruce asked.
“Nothing,” Clark’s voice came over the radio. “You know this city uses a lot of lead paint. You should probably look into that. For the kids.”
“Keep searching. Whatever he has planned, the Joker will want to be close enough to taste it.”
“We’ll find him.”
Bruce shut off the comline. Harvey had his wife to look after. Clark had his crusade. He’d been left alone in the cave, with what? A mission? A partner half his age? Talia…
He shook it off. Focused. Punchline. The Joker had said he needed a new punchline. There were only three men he’d deliberately sought to kill, announcing his murders ahead of time, fetishizing them. Bill Earle, Bruce Wayne, Oswald Cobblepot. No connection. He’d even gone out of the way to point out how there was no logic to Cobblepot’s selection. So… what was the logic?
Someone was calling him. Considering he was dead, the potential list of callers was short. “Hello?”
“Knew it!” Barbara cheered. “You’re too hardassed to die.”
“You can’t tell—“
“Anyone, I know, I know.” Barbara was whispering, her voice accompanied by the rumble of an engine and the sounds of traffic. “Listen, me and my family, we’re blowing this city before this city blows up.”
“That’s… unfortunate. I could’ve used you.” Punchline. What was a punchline? Englishman, Irishman, and Scotsman walk into a bar, the Scotsman is the punchline. Three panels in the comic strip. Rule of three.
“You could? Never mind. The Joker’s planning to blow up the city building by building.”
Comedy rule of three. Bill Earle set the pattern. “Who’s your source?” Bruce Wayne reinforced the pattern.
“Tim Drake. He’s given me good tips before. He says the bombs are—“
The call was cut off in a roar of glass and metal.
“Barbara!”
The third part broke the pattern.
***
“This is fucked-up!” Artie said, watching the minivan roll to a stop, a hole punched in its side from the SUV. “I hear that Superman’s in town. He’s probably already taking us to jail!”
Joker clapped his cheeks. “Always look on the bright side of life! I set off some of the fireworks early. That reddish-blue blur has a train to catch. Now c’mon, let’s pick up some hitchhikers.”
Joker and his gang surrounded the wreck, which had miraculously landed upright. Even the wheels were bent. Smoke poured out from under the hood, matching the blood dripping out from under the doors.
“Engine trouble?” The Joker pulled the side-door off its hinges—an easy feat. Barbara’s arm hung out. “Sssh!” he hissed at his men. “She’s resting! Hey, is it true you shouldn’t move someone who’d been in a car accident?” He slapped a hand down on Barbara’s shoulder. “Do you know if you should move someone after an accident? Hey, I asked you a question!” He grabbed both shoulders and began to shake. “Should you move someone after they’ve been in an accident!?”
“Get away from her!” Dick was pointing Sarah’s gun at him. “Right now!”
Artie muttered under his breath and inched away from the confrontation.
The Joker smiled. “You’re not going to shoot me, kiddo.”
Dick pulled the trigger.
Nothing happened.
Joker snatched the gun away. “Safety’s on.” He pistol-whipped Dick to the ground and clicked the safety off.
Artie ran for it.
Dick looked up at him, weaving in and out of consciousness. “Kill me. You’d better kill me now, because if you don’t, I swear to God I’ll see you die screaming.”
Joker stomped on his face, putting him out. “Wouldn’t that be funny.”
His men had secured the Dents into the ambulance. Joker threw on a doctor’s coat and climbed in with them. Sirens wailing, they drove off.
Dick’s eyes opened a minute later. He was bleeding, he could feel it running down his face, but he could see the ambulance getting away. He struggled to his feet. Needed a weapon. Needed something. He looked around and something metallic caught his eye, something sharp. It’d been in one of the suitcases that had ruptured during the crash.
A Batarang.
He opened the suitcase. Past the schoolbooks was a secret compartment, splintered open. It was filled with black leather. He tugged at it, unraveling it. Some of it was hard as armor, other bits were supple as a blanket. Then he saw the yellow bat emblazoned on the leather and everything clicked into place.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2009-05-16 10:03 pm (UTC)I loved the scene with Clark wanting to hug bruce and Alfred interrupting. "Mr. Man-" Hilliarious!
Also, Talia is pregnant? Awesome!
no subject
Date: 2009-05-17 05:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-05-17 08:03 pm (UTC)>“Wheel of Morality
>—an easy fear.
*cough*
no subject
Date: 2009-05-17 08:09 pm (UTC)That one was intentional, I swear.
no subject
Date: 2009-05-17 11:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-09 04:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-31 08:36 pm (UTC)Seriously? This is amazing! Come on!
Why is this dead?
Date: 2015-07-19 10:47 am (UTC)