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The two boys stood before the grand doors, hand in hand.
In perfect unison they looked at each other, a silent question humming in the air between them.
They both nodded, then raised their free hands, pushing the door open and stepping though together.
The room was breath-takingly grand- tall ceilings, every inch covered in intricate carvings. It was lit dimly by flickering torches, and dim light from tiny, high windows, that fell upon a curtained throne. The outer edge of the floor was dark wood, the inner section an octagon filled with sand, to soak up the blood.
Around the edges of the room, standing so still the eye passed over them, were dozens of Ra’s men, standing guard, waiting for something.
Clark and Bruce stepped forward, walking in perfect synchrony.
Two of the masked ninjas pulled ropes, and the curtains around the throne opened, giving then their first sight of Ra’s al Ghoul. He was old, hair and beard white. His ornate robes prevented them from getting a good read on his physical condition, but they could assume that he hadn’t let himself go, considering he was still alive.
He sat upon an ornate throne, Talia knelt at his feet. Talia’s eyes flickered wider for just a moment, like she hadn’t expected Clark to be there. So, the drug had been supposed to kill him then? Good thing Clark didn’t die as easily as a human.
Clark and Bruce shared a look. Somehow, they had expected someone more… visually intimidating. They let go of each other’s hand and knelt, as they had been taught.
“Thomas and Jordan. The Miller twins.” Ra’s voice wasn’t loud, but it carried an unshakeable authority, as if by merely speaking something, he could make it real.
“Or should I say Clark Kent and Bruce Wayne?” Ra’s sounded almost amused, as if the lengths they had gone to hide their identities was nothing more than a game to him.
“You may rise.”
They stood, again in perfect sync.
Ra’s waved away his daughter and moved to stand.
Talia and the ninja’s around the room looked shocked, as Ra’s descended the stairs of his throne, standing before Bruce and Clark, hands loosely clasped behind his back.
“I must commend you. This is the first time in centuries that two students of the same group have reached the end of their training together.”
He snapped his fingers, and two ninja’s melted out of the shadows beside his throne, holding sheathed swords in their hands. Ra’s pointed and they kneeled before Clark and Bruce, holding the weapons out to them.
Clark and Bruce took the weapons without hesitation, Bruce strapping his on to the right, and Clark strapping his on to the left.
They stood ready for whatever might happen next, stance deceptively loose.
Ra’s turned and walked back up the steps to his throne, sitting in it. Talia knelt at his feet, and he pet her hair like she was a loyal dog.
“Your final task is simple. Whichever one of you kills the other, will become my first in command.”
The room was silent for a few moments, that seemed to stretch into eternity.
“No.” Two voices, so perfectly matched they sounded like one.
Ra’s lip pulled back in a snarl, “What.”
“No.” they said again.
There was a quiet sound as all the ninja’s in the room moved, their hands resting on the hilts of their swords.
For the first time, Clark and Bruce moved out of sync, Bruce taking half a step forward, while Clark remained still.
“We will not kill each other for your amusement.” Bruce’s voice held no fear, projected just as much authority as Ra’s.
Then, in a show of defiance, he turned his back to Ra’s.
“Ready to blow this pop stand?” Clark asked, adjusting his necklace and holding the clasp out towards Bruce. While Clark could manage it on his own now, he still preferred having Bruce do it, letting Bruce control his power. It was a show of trust no-one else would ever understand.
Bruce opened the clasp and wound the necklace around the knuckles of his right hand. “I’m ready whenever you are.”
Clark let the bonds of the earth slip off of him, his feet leaving the ground. He sighed, momentarily luxuriating in the weak sunlight, as those around them gasped and shuffled back at the impossibility of such a thing.
He wrapped an arm around Bruce, the two of them slotting together chest to chest, like pieces of a puzzle. Bruce put his arms around Clark’s neck and tucked his head in close to protect his eyes from falling debris. Clark’s invulnerability field was large enough that such a thing wasn’t a problem anymore, but it gave him an excuse for closeness he was always willing to take.
Clark slowly drifted upward, raising a hand and making a fist, then shot straight up like a rocket, smashing though the ornate roof and into the blinding sunlight.
Before they flew out of sight, Clark’s eyes met Talia’s for just a moment. Her mouth was open, a hand on her stomach as she stared at the impossibility above her.