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Batman carried Eira into the Batcave, limbs heavy with grief. He was thankful it wasn’t Clark he held. Did that make him a bad person? Clark will never forgive Batman if he lets his dog die. He tenderly placed her on Ace’s bed and scratched her behind the ears. She whimpered softly and licked his hand. There was no telling how long she was contained in the Kryptonite cage.
Batman poured a bowl of water and tried to get Eira to drink. She blinked at him blearily and turned away. “Come on, Ol’ girl,” Batman coaxed Eira forward. “You’re no good to Kal, dead,” he spoke the dead language. Superman’s name did the trick and she half-heartedly drank. “I’m worried about him too.”
It was already too late for Clark. He buried him the other day. Didn’t he? He ran the DNA test ten times to be sure. Clark Kent was buried in Metropolis. But Lois was convinced that wasn’t her husband. It could be the hormones talking. Batman was quite clueless when it came to pregnant women. Lois wasn’t one for emotional outbursts usually, but she had just lost her husband.
He dared to hope when he found the black mercy tentacle. It gave credence to Lois’ theory that Clark was held captive somewhere. But it was another dead end. They stormed Cadmus Labs to rescue Clark and found his dog instead. He resented Eira and at the same time was grateful she was the one suffering, not Clark.
Clark wasn’t in Cadmus Labs because he was dead.
After a moment Eira tried to stand and collapsed back onto the bed. She howled mournfully and glared at Batman with reproach. He didn’t need psychic powers to tell him Eira worried more about Clark than her well-being. Ace wandered to his mate’s side and curled around her, licking her trembling snout. Titus slunk between Batman’s legs, staring forlornly at his parents. He cocked a head, looking at Batman expectantly. He had trained the pup well.
“Go to her,” Batman nodded. Titus snuggled against Eira’s side. His black fur stood out against Eira’s white coat. Amara poked a white head over her father’s back and watched Batman serenely; the black patch of fur framing her blue eyes looked suspiciously like a domino mask.
Batman swallowed a knot in his throat. She was named after his mother — a mother he thought was best hidden from Clark. He wasn’t fit to be Batman. Once again his secrets hurt the ones closest to him. Clark will never forgive him. Hell. Clark died hating him. It was part of the reason he was so ready to believe Lois. There would be a chance for him to fix things if Clark were alive.
A gust of wind nearly knocked Batman over and Krypto landed on top of his sister. Batman ran his hand over his face. That mutt was untrainable. Amara squawked and whacked Krypto off her. The force of her hit sent Krypto into the desk and there was a deafening crack. The multimillion-dollar batcomputer tipped forward.
“No!”
At the same time, Ace barked a warning. Titus and Krypto kept the monitor from falling completely on their mother. Eira rolled onto her back and glared at the pups while Ace licked her belly clean. Batman hurried to right the computer. Every time the Kents visited he had to replace equipment.
“Dipshit,” he glared at Krypto. Krypto looked sheepishly away, reminding Batman of Superman. Krypto had the same guilty expression Superman had after breaking the computer console at the Watchtower. Amara growled ferociously, snapping at Krypto’s legs. Krypto bared his fangs and was about to attack.
“Amara, heel.” Batman hissed. Amara looked between Batman and Krypto crestfallen. “Come,” he said in Kryptonese. Eira growled in warning. Amara hovered toward Batman’s side with her tail tucked between her legs. “You know better,” he told the mutt. “Krypto’s part farm boy what’s your excuse?” he growled, clipping the leash to her collar. “Titus. Guard,” he pointed at Eira. Titus sat rigidly near his mother.
“Good boy,” he fed him a treat. “That’s how you behave,” he told Krypto. Krypto wagged his tail excitedly, flying circles around Batman’s head. Amara’s legs shook, but she remained dutifully on the ground. Krypto knocked into Batman, nuzzling the utility belt. “Bad dog!” he grabbed Krypto by the scruff of the neck and clipped a leash on him in midair. “Sit!” Batman demanded.
Krypto sat on top of the desk, crushing Bruce’s iPhone. “Jesus Christ,” Batman swore. “You definitely are Clark’s dog.”
He tugged Krypto by the leash and headed deeper into the Batcave. Amara walked obediently beside Batman, pointed ears tucked behind her head in shame. Krypto remained airborne, sniffing every little thing, his tail wagging excessively. He hit the glass display with the original Batman suit and glass flew everywhere.
“You dipshit!” Batman screamed, ducking to avoid a shard of glass. Krypto clumsily plopped onto the ground, sitting on his sister’s paw. She yapped but otherwise refrained from lashing out. “Good girl,” he treated her. Krypto opened his mouth expectantly. “No treats for you, Klutzdog.”
He cut through the Trophy Room, keeping a firm hold on both leashes. Krypto walked with a skip in his step, halfway off the ground. Batman had to redirect him multiple times. Krypto nearly broke the chain when he saw the life-size Tyrannosaurus rex. Batman had half a mind to turn the robot on and let Krypto go to town. It would keep him off his hair. But the Medbay was next door, he’d risk hurting Lois.
Batman quietly snuck into the med bay, dragging the pups behind him. Jonathan Kent snored in the chair next to Lois’ bed, a copy of ‘To Kill a Mockingbird’ propped open on his chest. Batman tensed at the sight, almost forgetting where he was. He brought the Kents to the Batcave after Lois was attacked. The air smelled of pancakes and bacon. He heard Martha and Dr. Klein laughing in the adjoining kitchenette. He couldn’t remember a time the Batcave was this crowded. He will never get used to it.
Batman focused on Lois Lane’s motionless form. The room was silent except for the soft hum of the radio. He couldn’t help feeling a sense of guilt watching her. If Batman were honest with Clark, he would still be here to tend to his wife’s needs. Because of him Lois might die or, heaven help them, lose the babies.
Lois Lane, an intrepid reporter and whirlwind of energy was trapped in a coma she might never wake from. Her once vibrant spirit was replaced with a haunting stillness. The only movement came from a ripple beneath her swollen belly, a sign the twins continued to grow even though their mother was comatose. She looked like she swallowed a Joker bomb; her abdomen was impossibly round and glowing faintly as if about to erupt.
It was decided. He was never having kids. He would never put Selina or anyone else through something so horrendous. Dick was the only child he needed, and boy did he fail him royally. He didn’t want a life of crime fighting for Dick and yet somehow the stubborn bastard followed in his footsteps. Hopefully, when he goes to college Dick will come to his senses.
He untied Amara and Krypto and coaxed them onto the bed with Lois. “Stay,” he commanded. Amara snuggled against Lois’ left side. “Guard,” he scratched Amara behind the ears. She was the spitting image of Eira, except for the black mask framing her eyes. Krypto curled up on top of her protruding belly. The rise and fall of her abdomen slowly lulled him to sleep. Krypto might be a loony dipshit, but he’s always had a soft spot for Lois. Lois could calm him down just by being in the same room as him.
Satisfied they won’t get into trouble there, Batman headed into the kitchenette connected to the med bay. Martha stood at the stove flipping pancakes while Alfred brewed tea. Lois’ doctors sat across from each other, munching happily on pancakes. Dr. Klein complimented Martha on her superb cooking and Dr. Quintum asked for a second helping. Batman wasn’t sure about the Valarian. There was only one alien he trusted and he was missing or possibly dead. But Dr. Quintum's knowledge of interspecies pregnancy proved useful. He’s kept Lois and her unborn children alive. That’s more than any human doctor did for her.
“You’ve gone too far!” Sam Lane sat at the head of the table glaring at his son. Leo Lane balanced on crutches, matching his father’s anger. It was a mistake allowing Alfred to add a kitchen in the Batcave. All these people were invading his privacy. At least they hadn’t left the med bay. He couldn’t wait for Lois to wake up so he could kick her crazy family to the curb. Leo almost broke their cover at Cadmus Labs. They were lucky to escape with Eira.
“And you’ve gone soft!” Leo screamed. “Lois will still be alive if you let me kill the alien.”
“Lois is not dead!” Sam screamed, but his voice shook with doubt.
“He’s killing her from the inside,” Leo said. “You should have shot him when you had the chance.”
“What is he talking about?” Martha froze by the stove. “You tried to kill my boy?”
“It was ages ago,” Sam hurried to explain. “Superman had just revealed himself as Kryptonian to the world and I was ordered to execute him. I made a different call.”
Martha gasped.
“The wrong call,” Leo said testily. “You forgot everything you taught me.”
“I’m not your father!” Sam screamed. “And Lois is not your sister. We might look like them, but we’re not your family.”
The multiverse was not a new concept to him. Batman had met his twisted counterpart more times than he would have liked. Each time he crossed paths with someone from another Earth it made his head ache.
“You can say that again!” Leo hissed. “The Sam Lane I know would have never hesitated!” he said. “He wouldn’t allow that monster to rape his daughter.” Sam’s face clouded with indecision.
Dr. Klein froze with a fork halfway to his mouth. Dr. Quintum spilled the syrup, averting his gaze. Batman drew a Batarang out of his utility belt, ready to kick that asshat into next week. Rape was an ugly word to be throwing around. Clark was many things, but a rapist wasn’t one of them.
Martha’s face turned beet red. “How dare you!” she waved the spatula at Leo like a weapon. “That is my son you’re talking about!” she jabbed the greasy spatula into Leo’s chest. “He loves Lois. Her pregnancy is a miracle.”
“He’s an alien,” Leo said. “Aliens aren’t capable of love”
“I’m deeply offended,” Dr. Quintum said.
“That is politically incorrect,” Dr. Klein said. “Aliens are sentient beings. They have emotions and desires, the same as us. Especially Superman.”
“I’m certainly not an emotionless robot,” Dr. Quintum said.
“How can you stand by and let him talk about your son-in-law like that?” Martha whirled on Sam.
Sam’s Adam apple bounced in his throat. “I’m sorry, Martha,” Sam said. “But he’s right. I might lose my little girl because of him.”
“It’s not Clark’s fault,” Martha said. “Lois wanted this pregnancy as much as Clark. It takes two to tango.” She said. “ Things would be different if he were here.”
“Things would be different if she were married to a human,” Sam said.
“Lois would be dead ten times over if it weren’t for Superman.”
“Lois also takes unnecessary risks cause she knows he will be there to catch her when she inevitably falls out of a helicopter.” Batman had to agree with that assessment. “Since she’s known him she’s been thrown off a building fifteen times, been a hostage more times than I care to calculate, and fallen out of a helicopter three times,” Sam said. “I’m sorry, I know you love him like a son, but he doesn’t belong on Earth.”
“You don’t mean that,” Martha sobbed. “He’s your daughter’s husband. Clark is Lois’ best friend.”
“Lois is nothing more but a host to carry his offspring. He’s using her to resurrect Krypton,” Leo said.
“And you’re using Lois to resurrect the sister you lost,” Batman slunk toward Leo and slammed his arms on the table, encasing Leo in shadow. Leo paled drastically and tried to make himself smaller. “How many Supermen have you killed in cold blood, thirteen, thirty, three hundred?” Batman growled. “You’re as bad as Ultraman. At least he doesn’t hide behind a false sense of duty.”
“I’m saving the world.”
“Take a good look around you,” Batman hissed. Martha trembled with unshed tears. “You’re destroying worlds not saving them,” Batman said. “Now, why don’t you cut the bullcrap and be honest with us. Who has Clark?” he asked, reaching for a weapon in his belt. “I’m not in a generous mood Leonardo. I suggest you cooperate. You still have one good leg.”
Alfred who had remained silent during the argument, stepped between Batman and Leo. “Not in my kitchen young man,” Alfred rested a hand on Bruce’s shoulder. “Leave the torture on the streets of Gotham, eh?” Alfred nodded. Batman slowly unwound, releasing Leo. “Have some food,” Alfred offered Batman a plate of bacon. “You’re looking anemic.”
“Fuck off,” Batman shoved past Alfred.
“Bruce!” Martha screamed. “Language.”
“Wait, Bruce as in Bruce Wayne?” Leo’s eyes widened with fear. “You . . .” he visibly paled. “You’re supposed to have fangs.”
“Who says I don’t?” Batman offered a toothy grin. Leo looked away shuddering.
Alfred shook his head. “I guess we’re going to add vampirism to your rap sheet now as well, Master Bruce.”