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Stephen burst out through the flames, landing roughly on the ground, and setting down the kids he was holding. He patted their heads, and gave them a comforting smile, before bolting back into the burning building to fish out their mother.
It took twenty minutes until the firefighters arrived to help put out the fire. All people and pets present in the building when the fire broke out had already been safely taken outside by then. Even that one rat Stephen saw crawling into a wall.
He was just about to take off, when he felt a tug on his cape.
“Thank you, Superman.”
Stephen turned to see one of the kids he saved earlier. He remembered her trembling so hard when he found her, clutching onto a sheep plush for dear life, as flames closed in on her.
She now held that plush up to him, her eyes teary, but focused.
“It was nothing.” He said, kneeling on one knee and pushing the toy back towards her. She shook her head and shoved it back to him. He sighed and took it.
The girl smiled, although she clearly already missed her fluffy companion.
“Thank you,” he said now, and squeezed the plush to his chest. “I will make sure to take care of it.”
As the girl nodded, Stephen saw her mother run towards her. He nodded at the woman and flew off at last.
Stephen heard gunshots from the direction of Gotham City. A lot of them.
He sighed. Gotham was known for it’s particularly violent atmosphere, yes, but it was rare for there to be this many shots fired at once, in one place.
So, Stephen got to work. He flew, full speed ahead, and burst into the scene, assessing the situation and disarming as many people as he could.
What surprised him, was that he wasn’t the first one there. A man dressed in black scaled armour was already beating up gunned men. So he joined him, flying over and barrelling into a large group approaching him.
They worked together surprisingly well, for two strangers. Almost as if they had known each other for a long time. Stephen chuckled at the thought, when he was standing on the roof after it was all over. He was hoping he would get to talk to the stranger in black.
He smiled when he heard footsteps.
“So you're the ‘White Mamba dressed in black'-”
“Stay out of my city.”
Stephen was dumbfounded.
“What? Why? I just helped you! We work well together!”
The man looked straight into Stephen's eyes. The cowl he wore hid most of possible emotions on his face, but there was a sharpness to his eyes that felt strangely familiar.
“This city is my responsibility. You don't know how it works. Go back to your sickly-sweet Metropolis and don't come back.”
And Stephen left. If the snake didn't want his help, then there was no point forcing it.
Stephen really meant to keep his promise. He did. But what was he supposed to do when, while he was in Gotham, working on a story as his civilian self, and suddenly overheard a police officer talking to his comms about “Gray Yeon being kidnapped”.
Now, Stephen knew who Gray Yeon was. Recently announced as one of the richest people on earth. A man who somehow built a technical empire so large so fast that he achieved that not only in under a decade, but before he even hit thirty, too. A man described to be a genius, but often also as incredibly sociable and kind. A man of striking beauty, who frequently used it to get around with both men and women.
Stephen had trouble believing the “sociable” and “playboy” parts of those descriptions. Not because he had a strange conspiracy theory or because he stalked him with his x-ray vision.
No. Stephen simply knew Gray Yeon. Or at least used to.
Back when they were young, before Stephen's parents suddenly moved soon after Stephen's accident. Soon after Stephen's powers began showing.
They said it was for his safety. And Stephen believed them. He heard the doctors’ disbelief when he was up and running in only a few days after waking up from a two-day coma.
They told him he had to lose touch with Gray because it would put him at a greater risk. That “if they were meant to be friends, they would find each other again one day”. Stephen believed that, too.
So when he heard about Gray, adrenaline immediately shot into his system. He was up in seconds, and on the scene in half a minute. In a full minute, the kidnappers were down, and Stephen was freeing Gray and flying him to the roof.
“You alright?” He asked, looking the man over. He didn't seem hurt much, aside from a split lip and a bruised hand. He used his x-ray vision to check for any internal damage and-
Oh.
“You- you dumbass, I was doing something!”
If Stephen had a nickel every time a man on a Gotham rooftop rendered him speechless, he would have two nickels. Which wasn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened both times Superman was in the city.
“You have fractured ribs! You need to go to a hospital!”
“I don't need to do anything, Stephen.”
Well.
Getting a third nickel right after a second was even stranger.
“How-”
“Did you really think I wouldn't have recognised you?”
“I grew up, so I thought-”
“Oh please. I knew it was you the moment I saw that article about you. The one you wrote. Brilliant idea, by the way. Definitely, nobody will figure it out.” Gray closed his arms around his chest, his expression a mix of anger and pain. Mostly pain. So much pain.
“I-” Stephen didn't know how to begin saying what he wanted to tell Gray. He wanted to apologise, to explain why he never reached out. But for all the articles he had written over the years, it felt like he wasn't even able to form a single sentence now.
Gray sighed. He turned to the rooftop exit.
“I'll be going now. I have things to do-”
“I'm sorry,” Stephen burst out, his fist clenched. He felt so much anger towards himself, he felt like it was nearly impossible to express it. “I should have reached out. When we moved… my parents told me it was better if I didn't, and I was just a kid in no position to argue, so I didn’t. And when I was older… you were already so successful. I… I felt like I'd be weighing you down.”
Gray’s footsteps stopped, but when Stephen looked at him, he didn’t turn around. Only his head was tilted sideways slightly, to signify he was paying attention to him.
“You wouldn’t have.”
There was a vaguely fragile note in his voice. Like Gray wasn’t sure he should be saying this. Like he wasn’t supposed to be giving light to these emotions.
“Gray-”
“I went all those years thinking you died,” Gray interrupted him. “Or if you didn’t, then you wanted nothing to do with me. And if not that, then you forgot me completely.”
Finally, Gray turned back to face Stephen. Stephen could barely see the emotions boiling in Gray’s blood, but they were there. Threatening to explode.
“When I saw that article, I wanted to reach out myself. But every time I took my phone into my hand, I paused. ‘There has to be a reason he hasn’t reached out’. And when I realised you’re Superman, it dawned on me. You don’t need me back in your life. You didn’t even trust me enough to tell me you’re an alien, why would you care enough to reunite with someone who will put you in a spotlight?”
With a loud groan, Stephen crouched on the ground, wrapping his hands around his head.
“So we’ve both been suffering because of our own stupidity.”
He heard a sigh, then footsteps, and finally the sound of a man sitting down next to him.
“It doesn’t matter any more. We can’t go back to change our actions, but we can go forward and make a different choice.”
Stephen looked to the side, a small smile crawling up his face.