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“You were a little hard on the boyscout, don’t you think?”
“I thought I was the boyscout?”
“I did too, until I met Captain Marvel,” Batman smirked, landing a nasty kick to the newest villain of the week. He hit him square in the face and sent him flying backwards into a telephone booth. “What do these guys want, anyway?”
Superman turned, pouting slightly at his partner. They stood shoulder to shoulder, watching their adversaries recover and begin their assault once more.
“To take over the world?...or rob banks…I forget.”
Both heroes ducked as one of the brute’s weapons came flying straight over their heads. When he missed, another one of them slammed a large crowbar into the concrete, splitting the street wide open and forcing the two heroes apart.
Superman jumped off the ground, flying toward the idiot with the crowbar while Batman sprung toward the other guy, once again kicking him square in the face and sending him flying–this time, through a car window.
“But back to Captain Marvel,” Superman said, snatching the crowbar and wrapping it around the guy with ease. “Why are you…why is everyone defending him?”
“We like him.”
Batman approached, punching the captured brute in the jaw and knocking him unconscious.
“He’s…sunny.”
------
“What can I say, Clark?” Bruce said, shrugging and wrapping the towel around his neck. “You weren’t there. Captain Marvel was. It’s not his fault that you were preoccupied.”
Clark glared at him.
“It’s not my fault either. I can’t be everywhere at once.”
“Nobody’s asking you to be. But don’t get upset when other people step up and do the job in your place.”
“Okay, so fine, he saved everyone from Parasite. But what about the fact that he endorsed Luthor for president? I have a very hard time believing that that doesn’t bother you at all.”
Bruce just stared at Clark, crossing his arms over his chest.
“My children have taught me to be a lot more patient with people who are learning.”
“Oh yes. Batman. The epitome of patience.”
“You’re not helping your case here, Clark,” Bruce said, his stare turning to a glower. “Besides, I must have a modicum of patience, or else I wouldn’t be in a relationship with you.”
It was Clark’s turn to cross his arms. Bruce smirked for a moment, then sighed.
“Of course it’s not ideal that he endorsed Luthor for president–I mean it’s Luthor – but his intentions were good. We have to give him credit for that.”
Clark raised his eyebrows. “Since when?”
“Shayera?”
A pause.
“Okay, fine. But Bruce… he lost control in the founders hall too. He slammed his hand down, like a child having a temper tantrum…”
Bruce shot him another look in response, this one somehow a mixture of I love you and I haven’t the time or patience for this conversation right now. He tugged on his sweatpants and began to gather his suit together.
“He’s not…in control. He doesn’t have the experience that we have, and for someone who has all of that power…”
“The same power that you have, Clark,” Bruce said, his eyes narrowing. “That you once struggled to control, but eventually you–”
“Maybe even more power, Bruce,” Clark interjected. “In fact, certainly more. I haven’t seen it, but I’ve heard the other members talking about all of the amazing things Captain Marvel can do. He can't go unchecked. It’s a lot of power.”
Bruce finished gathering his things, then turned to meet Clark’s gaze.
“And maybe that’s your problem with him. Not the endorsement, the clumsiness, or the grandiose display of passionate optimism on the watchtower. Maybe you’re just not used to someone being more powerful than you.”
Clark opened his mouth to speak, but Bruce cut him off.
“The league still needs you, Clark, but it could really use Captain Marvel too. Give him a chance.”
As Bruce walked past, he pecked Clark on the cheek. Clark sighed, recognizing this statement for the conversation-ender that it was.
“I need to put this away, and then go back to Gotham,” Bruce said to his back. “Apparently Tim is struggling with physics and Alfred is too out of practice to do anything about it.”
The door shut behind him, and Clark was left standing alone in the showers.
--------
Clark was in his apartment working on a story when he noticed his league pager was buzzing. He retrieved his spare earpiece from his safe and put it into place, pressing down to get J’onn’s attention.
Only it wasn’t J’onn who responded. It was Emil Hamilton.
“Superman,” he said, almost apologetically. "J'onn tells me it's your night off. I'm sorry to disturb you, but there's been an incident at the lab that I am certain you will want to investigate."
"Are you alright, sir?"
"Just fine. But this is a matter of urgency, Superman. I implore you to come quickly."
Clark was about to disconnect when Emil added: "...and bring Batman with you."
-------
After a quick phone call to Bruce, Clark suited up and arrived at Star Labs in less than ten minutes. Batman arrived shortly after him, joining them in the corridor as they make their way to the lab’s weapons vault.
“If it’s just a simple robbery, why call us?” Clark asked. Emil had filled him in on a few details while they had waited, but hadn’t had enough time to explain the whole situation.
“It was anything but simple,” the scientist responded, shaking his head. “They ignored valuables, precious gems, high technology artifacts… the only thing they took was…”
Clark’s heart sank the moment they walked through the door. He could feel Bruce tense beside him.
“...nearly four pounds of weapons-grade kryptonite.”
Nothing more needed to be said. Bruce reached into his utility belt and retrieved some tracing equipment with a small growl. He approached the vault, and began to examine the lock.
“Anything?” Clark asked, after a few moments.
“It was nano-picked,” Batman responded, all business. “LexCorp technology.”
He continued before Clark had the chance to say anything. “Which anyone could have gotten their hands on, or for that matter, planted to incriminate Luthor."
“Batman… you know it was him,” Clark said, trying not to let the aggravation and hint of panic rise in his chest. It was a lot of kryptonite.
Bruce shook his head.
“I’m not entirely convinced. This is messy for Lex.”
"He’s the most arrogant human on the planet. He wants us to know it was him!”
“...maybe.”
Clark tensed at this, his heart pounding in his chest.
“... maybe? ”
“I’ll go to the watchtower and see if the Atom can find anything that I might have missed.”
“Since when do you miss anything?” Clark responded, swallowing thickly. What he really wanted to say was: Since when are you so nonchalant about kryptonite, especially when it’s potentially in Luthor’s hands?
Bruce met his gaze, the slight downward twitch of his mouth communicating his answer to his partner’s masked question: It’s probably Luthor, Clark, and I’m furious about it, but we can’t act so certain in front of Hamilton. Captain Marvel screwed us on that front. We can’t express our distrust of Luthor without indicating dysfunction in the league.
What he actually said was: “Since when do you jump to conclusions without evidence?”
Clark's eyes shone as Bruce turned away, a plethora of emotions washing over him.
“Go to that charity event tonight, Superman. You’ll raise money, and you can keep an eye on Luthor. Just don’t get too distracted.” In other words, be careful.
-----
LexorCity was an area in downtown Metropolis that, to his credit, Luthor had actually built up into a modest but accessible suburbia. Clark kept his eyes peeled for anything that looked suspicious, and though he felt incredibly guilty for it, he almost hoped he would find something malicious that he could plant on Luthor and rub in Captain Marvel’s face.
“I’m sorry…” Luthor said, wiping his eyes. He was standing next to Superman as he finished delivering his introductory speech. “I just…this is the greatest day of my life.”
Clark bit back a scowl, and turned to the billionaire. “I never knew you had such a sentimental streak.”
Luthor grinned, and Clark tried to convince himself it wasn’t laced with evil. He failed.
“Oh, Superman, there is so much about me that you don’t know.”
He turned his attention back to the audience.
“I’d like to propose a toast to the Man of Steel for lending his prestigious presence at this unveiling tonight.”
“Anything for a good cause,” Clark said, his eyes narrowing.
“To Superman!” Lex raised his glass, then brought it to his chin, his lip curling slightly behind the bubbles so that only Superman could see. “Our hero.”
They were about to drink together when Mercy Graves interrupted them. Lex excused himself and walked away with her, while Clark was suddenly bombarded by a group of reporters.
Clark focused his hearing on the conversation occurring between Lex and his assistant.
“The device is in place,” Mercy was saying. “6 minutes, Mr. Luthor.”
Clark’s eyes narrowed once again.
“Excellent. Have my escape route secured.”
Rapidly, Clark began to assess the entirety of LexorCity, scanning the buildings, monuments, playground, and eventually the underground infrastructure. He couldn't see anything, so he filtered his hearing even more, until he was able to pinpoint and focus on a high pitched beeping noise. He followed the noise until he spotted, beneath the playground of all things, a large, loaded bomb set to detonate in less than five minutes.
It was no wonder he hadn’t seen it at first glance. It was shielded on all sides by thick slabs of lead . Only small cracks between the slabs enabled him to get a glimpse of the device.
“Clear the area!” He yelled, hovering slightly and waving his arms to gather people’s attention. “Everybody out, NOW! There’s a bomb!”
When Superman gave instructions, apparently nobody hesitated to follow them. The crowd around the playground began to disperse, people running in all directions in an attempt to get out of LexorCity.
“Evacuate! Clear the area!” Clark continued to shout.
He approached the playground and began tearing at pieces of it until the ground beneath it was clear. He was about to break the surface of the sand when he felt an arm on his.
“Wait! Superman! Listen to me!”
It was Luthor, and Clark shook him off immediately.
“There is a device down there. I don’t know what it is but I am getting to it right now!”
Luthor grabbed his arm again and continued discouraging him. Clark brushed him off again, but before he could begin to dig, Captain Marvel descended on the scene.
“Guys! Guys! Let’s take it easy, okay?”
Luthor stepped forward. “Captain Marvel! Thank goodness you’re here. Superman isn’t listening to me!”
Clark was furious now. The longer they waited, the more likely it was that people would get hurt.
“You don’t have x-ray vision!” he yelled, pointing accusingly at Captain Marvel. “I do! There’s some sort of device buried here, and I’m shutting it down!”
Luthor caught his arm once more. “No! If you touch it, it might go off!”
“Go off?” Captain Marvel asked, his brow furrowing.
Clark’s hands were shaking.
“So you admit you put a bomb under the city.”
“Not a bomb…an experimental fusion engine,” Luthor interjected. “It will supply nearly free power to everyone who lives in LexorCity.”
“See?” Captain Marvel said, glaring at Superman.
Clark was immediately struck with the same childish vibe he had gotten from the younger hero in the founders hall. He could almost picture Captain Marvel sticking his tongue out at him.
“Then why the lead, Luthor?” Clark growled. “Why shield it?”
Luthor shook his head.
“For your protection, Superman. The device is powered by pure Kryptonite.”
“See?”
Clark ignored the younger hero and turned on Lex. “Why didn’t you tell me this?”
“I was afraid you wouldn’t believe me.”
“Superman…let’s just call the Atom in to inspect the device before we jump to conclusions.”
Clark growled low. “There’s no time for this!”
He hadn’t meant any of it to turn into a fight, really, especially not one between him and Captain Marvel. He was just so tired of others being fooled by Lex. Couldn’t they see that he was lying? That the whole thing was a facade?
First the statue came down, and then somehow the whole hospital was next. Several buildings, even outside of LexorCity, were damaged as well. Superman and Captain Marvel traded punches and kicks, and fought in a way that no two heroes should ever fight each other.
At some point, out of the corner of his eye, Clark noticed that the rest of the Justice League had arrived, including the Atom and Batman. Several reporters, too, had returned to the playground evidently willing to risk their lives for the chance at a breaking story.
Clark’s heart was pounding in his chest as he threw Captain Marvel away from himself again, making a dive for the playground area. He spun rapidly, creating a drill out of his own body and digging his way through the sand.
Captain Marvel caught up with him below, dealing a few more blows to Clark’s face and ego. Clark hit him as hard as he could across his face and, believing him to be temporarily incapacitated, turned away. He located the device, and used his heat vision to begin to melt the metal casing. Even when a green glow began emitting from the device, Clark persisted, determined to destroy whatever was putting his city at risk.
It worked, and Clark would have breathed a sigh of relief had strong arms not wrapped around his chest from behind. He was lifted off his feet, his body turned up toward the sky.
Behind him, holding him too tight for him to move, Captain Marvel shouted:
“Shazam!”
A huge bolt of lightning reached down from the clouds and pummeled Clark in the chest, sending shockwaves through his body. He cried out, the searing pain reminiscent of the way it must feel when your whole body is on fire. He panted through it, shaking and shuddering, but Captain Marvel gave him no reprieve.
“SHAZAM!”
He yelled again, and Clark felt close to passing out as the second wave of pain coursed through his body. He saw white, his muscles convulsing and throat producing incomprehensible cries of pain.
Captain Marvel tightened his grip.
“Sha-”
“ENOUGH!” Barked a gravelly voice. Clark didn’t need to be able to see what was going on to know that Bruce had yanked the younger hero away. “Get the HELL away from him!”
His partner was snarling, and Clark absently thought that surely Captain Marvel would rather relive Clark’s lecture in the founder’s hall than be on the receiving end of Batman’s fury.
Especially when that fury was inspired by an injured Superman.
Clark didn’t register that Bruce had also caught his falling form until he was on the ground, his head resting on Bruce’s knee. He winced as gloved fingers inspected his chest. His suit was surely torn open, and given the proximity to Kryptonite, his skin likely was too. It sure felt like it.
A few moments passed, and Clark regained his vision. He looked up to see a blurry cowl.
“I thought it would…” Captain Marvel started, staring down at Clark’s chest in horror. “Just…I didn’t…”
“That device,” Bruce snarled, unrelenting. “Is powered by kryptonite. Your abilities are fueled by magic. That is a lethal combination for him."
"But I…"
"You could have killed Superman! ”
“I was trying to help! Luthor says it’s not a bomb, and-”
“And Luthor has killed millions of innocent people! His word is next to useless, redemption or no. When you have power like we do, you take every precaution. Always."
Clark opened his mouth as if to speak, but nothing came out but a croak of pain.
“But Superman…”
“He was set up, Captain Marvel!” Bruce was snarling even more plainly now, fidgeting around in his belt with one hand, while the other rested over Clark’s left shoulder. His heart. “What happened here is exactly what Luthor wanted to happen. You came here and you fought Superman, and you and he both made the league look completely dysfunctional!”
Clark croaked again. Bruce pushed down lightly with the hand over Clark’s heart.
“You want to be helpful, Captain Marvel? Get that fucking kryptonite out of here and then pray to whatever the hell gave you your magic that Superman doesn’t die from this, got it?”
Clark could only assume the other hero nodded.
“I don’t care how old you are, how inexperienced you are, or how optimistic you are about people changing. If Superman dies here today…”
Bruce didn’t speak anymore, just busied himself inspecting Clark's chest. The sound of rustling fabric moments later indicated to Clark that Captain Marvel had left.
“Clark, you stay with me,” Bruce muttered, pressing a finger to his ear. “Alfred, Superman needs medical attention immediately. I need the batwing sent to LexorCity. Now.”
“ Right away, sir, ” Clark heard through the commlink. “ I shall also send Nightwing, should you need his assistance. Additional supplies? ”
Clark croaked again, seemingly unable to speak. He vaguely wondered if his throat was damaged by the lightning as well.
“He’s not bleeding. He was struck by lightning in the chest. Magic lightning. Twice. ”
The last word came out like a snarl.
“ My word, ” Alfred responds. That’s the end of the conversation.
Bruce stays with Clark, cradling his head for a few minutes until suddenly, everything isn’t so bright and fuzzy anymore. Captain Marvel had evidently moved the kryptonite.
“...B?” Clark croaks again, this time at least forming a coherent word.
“I’m here. You fucking idiot, I’m right here.”
“I’m…sorry…” Clark croaks out. His chest still feels like it’s on fire, but at least it’s no longer bone deep and all over his body.
“They set you up. They played into your every suspicion, every anxiety.”
“I…should have…known better.”
“Captain Marvel should have too.”
Clark sighed, and his eyes closed. He startled shortly after. “Hold on…they?”
Bruce nodded, but his explanation was cut off by the arrival of the batwing. Nightwing jumped down to the platform where Clark was lying, and knelt next to his father figure.
“Jesus…” he gasped, looking at Clark’s chest. “What the hell happened?”
“No time to explain,” Bruce said. “Help me get him back to the cave.”
------
A few days later, when Clark had fully recovered, both Superman and Captain Marvel gave their official statements to police, and to the citizens of Metropolis, apologizing for what they had done.
Following the press conference, Captain Marvel called a meeting of the founding members on the watchtower.
Clark listened to him, his head lowered in guilt and embarrassment as Captain Marvel reamed the entire league out for forgetting what it meant to be heroes.
He tendered his resignation and left the room in a huff, leaving the whole league in a stunned silence.
“I can appreciate the sentiment,” Flash chimed in, after a few moments. “But this guy… he hasn’t been a hero for all that long, has he?”
“There’s more to being a hero than blind optimism,” Diana said, folding her arms across her chest. “Could we use a bit more faith in man? Probably. But does that mean we entirely discount past actions moving forward?”
“You did for me,” Shayera said, quietly. “Doesn’t that mean you should do it for everyone?”
Bruce chimed in then.
“You helped us save people for a long time before we discovered the truth. Luthor has killed millions of innocent people. There’s a big difference in those past actions.”
“I should have done better,” Clark interjected. “I should have listened…taken proper precautions, and examined the device without tearing down half of Metropolis.”
Everyone in the league nodded, but J’onn had something to add.
“That might be the case, but let’s not forget that you were set up, Superman.”
“By two of the greatest minds in the world,” Bruce added.
“Still,” Clark said, pressing his hands flat against the table. “If you feel as though I should resign, I understand and will do so.”
They were all silent.
“So… who wants to go first?” Wally asked, raising his hands in a shrug. When Clark frowned at him, he continued. “How many times do you think we could make it around the circle giving reasons why Superman quitting the Justice League is the worst idea in the history of bad ideas ?”
Clark swallowed and looked around. It appeared everyone agreed.
“Okay, so now that that’s clear,” John said, standing up and cracking his back. “I’m exhausted and I want to go home.”
-----
“You were a little hard on the boyscout, don’t you think?” Clark said, nudging Bruce gently in the ribs. They were alone in the hallway, heading towards the wing of the watchtower devoted entirely to founding members.
Bruce narrowed his eyes playfully, smiling slightly at his partner.
“I get it, Clark,” he said. “You’re the boyscout.”
Clark nodded smugly, then snuck a kiss onto Bruce’s exposed cheek. He was met with a glare that quickly dissolved.
“For the record,” Bruce said. “In my eyes, you’re always going to be the boyscout, and the only one the league ever needs. Definitely the only one I ever need.”
Clark nudged him again, smiling lazily. They reached the entrance to the founders wing, and paused while Bruce scanned them in. Once they were through the door, Bruce continued.
“So, no need to get jealous, even if Captain Marvel does eventually return to the team–once he’s had a bit more practice, of course.”
“I wasn’t jealous…”
“You were.”
Clark blushed.
“No, I wasn’t! Just…frustrated, that’s all.”
“Jealous,” Bruce persisted. “Captain Marvel is physically stronger, faster, and funnier. Not to mention, not only is he invulnerable to magic, he can also control it.”
“Not making me feel better.”
“Not supposed to, really,” Bruce shrugged. “But this might: You always have been, are, and always will be the only boyscout for me.”
Clark smiled, and Bruce returned it, a stupid grin plastered all over his usually stoic face.
“Besides,” he said, quietly. “Captain Marvel’s real name is Billy Batson, and he’s about 12 years old.”
Clark’s mouth dropped open, and he stopped mid-step.
Bruce pulled his cowl down with a snort of laughter, pushed Clark up against the wall, and kissed it closed again.