Chapter Text
“Sir,” Alfred’s voice crackled in his ear, “you should know a large contingent of first responders, including military, are en route to your location. The media are right on their heels.”
Bruce took in the devastation around them, almost too tired for contingency plans. Almost. “All right. Stand by.”
The woman--Diana Prince? Was that really her?--looked over at him, a question in her eyes.
“That was…my butler,” he said. “We’re about to have company.”
She nodded and blew out a deep breath, head thrown back to the night sky for an instant. “Of course. What do we do?”
Bruce looked back at the monster, the spear protruding from it. The malevolent green glow had dulled, every toxic ounce poured into the creature. He didn’t know what Lex Luthor had done, how this thing had been created. He did know there could be no risk of the remains falling into anyone’s hands. “We have to get rid of…that,” he waved a hand at the monster. “I don’t know how, but…” He shook his head, well and truly baffled as to how to proceed. “I didn’t see this coming.”
“No. Who would have?” She shook herself as if to cast off a weight. “I can take care of it.” To go by her manner, she might dispose of monsters every day. Perhaps she did.
“And him?” she said, voice pitched soft as she regarded Lois Lane, still cradling Clark’s body.
God… If someone could be tempted to examine the monster, cut it open to see what made it tick, what would they do with Superman? His stomach roiled at the thought that, twenty-four hours ago, he would have said more power to them. “They can’t find him. They can’t find the body. We can, we can…” His thoughts were racing too fast for words, combating the horrific images in his head. “They can find the suit. Form whatever conjecture they want to. His body… His body belongs to his mother.”
“No.” The voice--Lois Lane’s voice--startled both of them. She still knelt by the body, face ravaged by grief. There was resolve there, too, and so much courage Bruce felt even more humbled.
“Ms. Lane--”
“No.” She sniffed, swiped the back of one hand across her eyes. “Not yet. We have to give him a chance.”
Bruce exchanged looks with Diana. She shook her head at him, just as unenlightened.
“A chance for what?” she asked, easing into a crouch so she was equal to Lois. Bruce envied her ease of movement. “A chance to…?”
“Come back.” Lois brushed away another tear, looked at Diana with such raw earnestness Bruce had to turn away for a moment. “I’m not crazy. I swear. Look at his face.”
That drew Bruce closer. He understood her reluctance to accept Clark’s death. It was futile, of course; he knew that all too well. Her insistence was hard to resist, though. “What? What about his face?”
He had closed Clark’s eyes, feeling kicked in the gut at the emptiness there, staring sightless at the night when seconds before they had blazed with fire. He looked again now, searching for whatever glimmer of hope sustained Lois. There was nothing; no sign of life, not a stir of breath. “I’m sorry, I don’t see--”
“Here.” She touched Clark’s cheek, flawless skin looking like marble. “He was hurt, bleeding.” She looked at him, pleading for him to understand.
He shook his head, not seeing.
Diana did. “There’s no mark.”
He shot a look at her, back to Clark. “There has to be. I…” he stumbled over the words, got them out anyway, “I sliced his cheek open with the spear.” It had been a bad cut, dripping blood. For one split second it had been satisfying to see that. He’d dwell on what an asshole idiot he’d been another time. There wasn’t time now. “There’s not even a scar,” he murmured, seeing but still not understanding.
“He healed,” Lois said. “He must have been exposed to the sun at some point. That’s where he gets his powers.”
Bruce remembered that flash in the heavens, like a missile had been detonated, the monster falling out of the sky. Had Clark been up there? Had he been caught in the blast? His mind raced with possibilities--exposure to unfiltered solar radiation, healing his body… Regenerating him? He wanted to reject the idea as far fetched, straight out of science fiction. He couldn’t. This was reality now, this world where godlike beings--he glanced at Diana, back at Clark--walked among them.
He looked at the wound, though, Clark’s chest torn open. How could anyone recover from that?
“You really think it’s possible?” he asked Lois. He wanted to wince away from the relief that flashed in her eyes. “What would we have to do?”
“I…” Lois faltered then, brutal reality threatening to swamp her.
“Might I suggest the lake house?” Alfred spoke up. “Make all that glass useful for once.”
“How long until sunrise?” Bruce asked, both women staring at him for a second before Diana whispered to Lois, “He’s talking to his butler.” Lois nodded as if that made perfect sense to her.
“About five hours,” Alfred said. “Master Bruce, I really do suggest we hurry it up.”
“Noted,” Bruce told him. Then to Lois, “Sunrise is in about five hours. Is that too long?”
She could only lift her shoulders and shake her head. “I don’t know.” The hope that had flared in her eyes threatened to slip away again.
Diana saved it. “We find out. That’s all we can do.”
Bruce looked at her. “You think it’s possible?”
“I’ve seen stranger things.”
Yes, he imagined she had. “All right. I know where we can take him,” he said to Lois. “Whatever happens, he’ll be safe there.”
She nodded, and got to her feet, accepting help from Diana. “I want to be there.”
“Of course.” What did secret identities matter now?
In all likelihood it was a fool’s errand, but if there was the slimmest chance they had to take it. He had to.
“May I?” he asked as he moved closer to the body.
Lois hesitated a moment but then nodded and stood back to allow him to lift Clark into his arms.
“Have you got him?” Diana stepped closer, one hand catching Clark’s shoulder, helping to settle him in Bruce’s arms.
“I’m good,” he said, his steps careful as he headed for the Batwing. The scream of sirens cut through the night. They didn’t have long now. “What about you?” he said as they reached the Batwing.
“I’ll join you once I’ve disposed of the monster,” Diana said, lending a helping hand once more to get Clark situated in the Batwing. She gave Lois a lift up as well, and dredged up a Mona Lisa smile from somewhere as she looked at Bruce. “I know where you live.”
Well that wasn’t alarming. “All right. We’ll see you then.”
She nodded, stepped back, and leaped back across the battlefield. Headlights were cutting through the night now, accompanied by the whine of the sirens, a screech of tires. Without hesitation, Diana paused only long enough to scoop up the monster, and then she was soaring into the sky as if the creature weighed no more than a marshmallow.
“Who is she?” Lois asked.
Bruce shook his head. “A friend, I think.”
“And there can never be too many of those,” Alfred said. “ Sir, time is of the essence.”
“Nag, nag, nag,” Bruce muttered as he checked to make sure Lois was secure, crammed into the Batwing and cradling Clark’s head on her lap.
Lois stared at him but let it go with a shake of her head. Grateful for that, he swung up behind the controls and powered up. “Hang on,” he told her as they took off, just seconds before the hoard of first responders rolled into view.
***
General Swanwick put down his phone and tried to stretch some of the tension out of his body. It didn’t work. Nothing would until this night was over.
“Any word from Gotham, sir?” Captain Ferris asked as she entered his office and offered him one of the coffees she carried.
“Thanks, Captain. And no, nothing new. Still no sign of the creature, Superman, or Batman. We’ve got Lex Luthor, though, that’s something.” Not enough. People would want answers, assurances they were safe in a world that kept changing. He wished he could give something to the spin doctors to put out there that could soothe a rattled world. He should have been more prepared for this. Of all the people in this world, he should have seen this coming.
He dragged a cookie tin over, opened it and took out an Oreo--offered the tin to Captain Ferris. She declined with a shake of her head. “Never cared for them, sir.”
“Hmm.” He took a bite, washed it down with a swig of coffee. “They’re one of my favorite things about this planet,” he said.
She gave him a puzzled look for an instant but then shrugged it off. “What about those reports of a woman fighting alongside Superman and Batman?”
Swanwick shook his head. “No idea. All we have right now are questions.”
“Superman survived the warhead detonation.” Ferris said this as if needing to affirm it for herself. “If he could survive that…” She let it trail off, as if giving voice to the hope might jinx it.
“We’ll see.” He would have liked to be more positive but minus any real intel at this stage, certainties were in short supply. “It’ll be light soon. We’ll have some answers then.” He hoped he sounded more confident than he felt. Doubtful of that, he reached for another cookie.