(FIC) Secrets of Fire
Hi, everyone! I am scurrying around trying to catch up with LJ -life, please be less hectic!- but I really wanted to thank everyone who read and liked the story I wrote for the World's Finest Summer Games. I wrote it in fits of panic because I thought I wouldn't make the deadline -and I almost didn't!- and it had some formatting problems because the mail at work -where I wrote a significant part of it- hates formatting and quotes and punctuation, so... here it is, edited and corrected! I did some minor changes to some lines here and there that didn't sound quite right. All remaining mistakes are mine, but jij was an awesome beta and helped me get it in shape in the first place!
Title: Secrets of fire
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Superman/Batman, unnamed female couple
Word Count: 6200+
Summary: Superman and Batman like to pretend they don't know they know they like each other. Also: witches, magic, and a grumpy Tim.
Notes: Gold medalist for the Long Story and the Romance categories for the World's Finest Summer Games.
The moment the incoming call buzzed in the commlink, Tim felt the change in the air. He rolled his eyes, turning his head a fraction towards his mentor. There it was: the pull of an unconscious smile, the change in rhythm of the typing on the keyboard that was the equivalent of humming in bat-speak. And then Bruce spoke, his voice low and colored with a smile he couldn't suppress.
"Yes, I'm here", he said, and the way he said it turned the simple three words into a clear come-on. Tim had been witness to dozens of exchanges just like this over the past few months. It was driving him insane to be around Batman when he was focusing on Superman; the vigilante was set on denying all evidence of the attraction between them, armed with a stubborn grim look and an all-business attitude that would have been more convincing if the whole act didn't fly out the window the second Kal buzzed the commlink.
"Robin and I are working on a case near the Harbor area. We’ll be there later, after patrol." Batman paused, glancing at Robin. His smile had receded to a merely pleasant expression -which was still a rare look for Batman- while he talked business with Kal. Good. Tim didn't want to sit through another social call. He would have left his mentor alone with his caller if he didn't know his presence made Bruce uncomfortable; it served him right to embarrass himself in front of Robin, acting like a lovesick teenager, instead of just admitting he was attracted to Superman.
Not that Superman scored much higher in Tim's book right now. In this game of cat and alien cat, they were both ineffectively chasing their tails -an image he tried not to picture in his head- while they pretended things were perfectly normal between them.
Things weren't normal. Tim knew that. Dick knew that. Babs knew that. Alfred, Cassie and Kara knew that. Even the JLA and Gotham's rogues knew that; maybe they didn't know what was going on -they had missed the 'Of Course We’re Not Flirting' calls and meetings- but they could tell something was happening.
You could hardly expect business as usual when you had Gotham’s Dark Knight and Metropolis’s Man of Steel pretending not to be pawing at each other.
Tim ground his teeth. He needed to find a better metaphor. That chasing tail part was too graphic for comfort. Bruce's low laugh rumbled from a few feet beside him, and Tim stood up, throwing his hands up in the air as he climbed up the stairs, leaving the Cave and the asphyxiating smell of romance behind him.
As far as he was concerned, Batman was patrolling solo until he resolved his situation with Superman and they started acting like serious crime fighters again. Tim had enough awkward romance in his own life to put up with theirs.
--
Batman stood on the pier of Gotham Harbor, hearing the waves crashing below him. Far in the horizon, lights lit up the night sky: it was Metropolis, Gotham's sister city, the Jewel of the Coast. Gotham was a proud city, her past living on in every brick, every piece of masonry; the stone-paved small streets of downtown were the sewing lines that stitched her together. Wind currents brought fog banks to Gotham that were seldom seen in Metropolis, where the past was constantly torn apart so they could build a better future. Metropolis pointed to a brighter tomorrow, cherishing and protecting hope and dreams, while Gotham cradled the past with mossy stone hands and a knowing, seducing smile.
Separated by a forty miles wide gulf, each city looked at the sea while glancing at the other one. Getting from one city to the other took time -a four hour drive in light traffic, bordering the bay all the while. That was, of course, unless you could fly faster than a speeding bullet.
"I'm here," Batman said into his commlink. His cape flapped around him, the breeze cool against his exposed cheeks as a rush of wind signaled the arrival of the Man of Steel.
"Hey," Superman replied, his voice coming from a few feet above and behind him. "Where's Robin?"
Batman took a moment to reply, waiting to hear the touch of his Superman's boots on the floor. He turned then, looking at the Kryptonian's half smile. It was a promising smile, one that spoke of delightful secrets and thrilling mysteries. It was a smile that revealed as much as it concealed, a gesture that spoke to Batman, to Bruce, better than any words could.
"He's out solo tonight."
"He seems to be doing that a lot lately. Is he seeing anybody?" Superman said, laughter in his eyes.
Batman snorted, turning to walk back to the Harbor. "Not to my knowledge." He could feel Kal just a step behind him, and he was certain his cape was brushing against Superman's legs as they walked. He swallowed and licked his lips before turning to look at him, tasting the salt of the summer breeze on them. "You said you had something to show me?"
"Yes, though we should probably take it to the Cave," Superman said, picking a small object from the pocket in his cape and handing it to Batman. Batman's fingers brushed against Superman's palm, the touch lingering just a second longer than it should have. He wished he wasn't wearing the gloves, but he couldn't help returning the Kryptonian's broadening smile. They would have to do something about their situation, and soon. Batman only had so much restraint, and sometimes he was so lost in their game he could barely pay attention to the matters at hand. The attraction was starting to affect his work, and he couldn't allow that, neither of them could. Though, it wasn't so much the attraction that was driving him crazy -he had known Kal for a decade, and the chemistry had always been there- but the acknowledgement of its existence and the subsequent inaction.
They had to do something about it, but he would keep up with the game for as long as necessary. Batman was just as resistant to Superman's magnetism, to Kal's otherworldly beauty, to Clark’s charms, as Superman was to Batman. If Kal could keep a straight face, then so could he. He wasn't giving in so easily; they kept upping the ante, each meeting just a little closer to rapture, and impossibly frustrating.
Batman looked at the object Superman had brought for analysis and did a double take. "Kal," he said, narrowing his eyes, the lenses of the cowl reduced to thin white slits. "This is a piece of wood."
"I know. I gave it the full specter: x-rays, molecular composition, energy readings. Nothing. It's just wood."
The handsome face wasn't smiling anymore, but the thoughtful look, with the creased brow and the pursed lips, did terrible things to Bruce. Batman remained impassive, waiting for the rest of the explanation.
"That's why I brought it to you. I couldn't find anything special about it."
"Where did you find it?"
"By another of the abducted. It was part of the bench where the police found her. The rest was almost completely consumed; just a few bits remained like this. It's just like the others."
Batman nodded. The abducted, the Metropolis tabloids claimed, were people who had been kidnapped by aliens -or by a government conspiracy, public opinion swayed between the two options. So far, there were six cases reported, four women and two men, from all kinds of backgrounds. They had nothing in common, nothing to tie them together, except they had all disappeared for twenty-four hours and then reappeared on the other side of town, confused and disoriented, without trace of substances in their blood, surrounded by the aftermath of a small fire, thought the victims showed no signs of harm. He was keeping tabs on the incidents, but it was Superman's case, and he hadn't asked for help until now.
"What do you want me to check it for?" He asked, turning the piece of carbon in his hands.
"Well," Superman paused, reaching to rub his neck. Batman looked up, sensing his discomfort.
"Kal?"
"You have more experience than I do with magic. I thought maybe you could see if you found anything paranormal about it."
"I don't like magic."
Superman smiled, reaching out to put a friendly hand on his shoulder. His warmth seemed to bypass the thermal insulation of the suit, reaching Bruce's skin without delay. “Believe me, I wouldn't bring this to you if I wasn't running out of options.” The charged look of his topaz blue eyes made Batman's hands clench viciously. "I need your help, B."
Batman nodded. "I'll do whatever I can. Now, come," he said, putting the sample in one of the compartments of his utility belt and turning towards the rocky shores of Gotham Harbor. At some points, it was quite a fall towards the sea, and the ragged shores made them even more dangerous. Crabs scurried between the rocks under the glare of Batman's small flashlight as he descended, looking for clues for the latest Harbor murder. Five victims in the past three weeks: at first they had been ruled as suicides, but there had been no notes, no previous signs of depression or suicidal behavior; the jumpers landing always around the same spot. It didn't seem random, but there wasn't evidence of a cult either. Superman floated beside him, trying to keep from upsetting the ground and any evidence Batman could find.
"What do you want me to do?"
Batman looked at him sideways, wishing he could answer that question honestly, but his city was first. The people they protected were first. Still, he would settle for seconds, moments stolen from their lives; he would be content with whatever they could give each other, because he was sure it would be more than enough. Superman took a deep breath, opening his mouth to say something, when a blur flickered in the edge of Batman's vision.
Superman was up in the air and heading in the direction of the falling body before he could turn around and shoot a grappling hook. The jumper struggled in Superman's arms for a moment, then lay limp, all signs of life leaving her. Batman rushed to their side, Kal's feet touching the ground, looking thoughtful. She had to be okay, otherwise he would be rushing her to a hospital, giving her first aid, anything other than looking at Batman with worried eyes. Superman trusted the girl to Batman's arms, and took off to check the Harbor.
Batman lowered her, inspecting her. She looked pale and drawn, like she was sleeping through a nightmare, but her pulse was steady. He removed his cape and covered the young woman with it, darkness pooling over her. She was cold to the touch.
"O, I need an ambulance. Superman saved one of our Harbor suicides. She's unconscious," he said into his commlink. Kal returned, landing beside him. The look on his face said it was bad news.
"Nothing. The area is clear. No thermal signals but hers." He hesitated, then shook his head. "She looks just like my abductees."
"Magic," Batman growled. Mind control and hypnotic suggestions also came to mind. He clenched his fists, turning to look at Metropolis lights in the horizon. "Maybe you should leave, Kal. I'll keep an eye on her."
"Let me know if you find anything," Superman said, nodding once. "Be careful, B."
Batman allowed himself a small smile. "You too." He tried not to think about Superman's vulnerability to magic as he saw him take off, flying back to his city.
The game was over, at least for tonight. There were people who needed them, and they would always come first.
---
Superman flew over Metropolis, the midday humid heat almost unbearable for the city dwellers and mildly annoying for the Man of Steel, his uniform clinging to his skin and his sense of smell too well tuned for the city smells. He speeded through the maze of skyscrapers, his eyes stopping a millisecond on each pedestrian, looking for a set of symptoms. Granted, the symptoms were vague enough that his chances of finding one of the people the press had been calling the abductees, now the sleepwalkers, were almost null, but it didn't hurt to try while he did his patrol rounds. The number of sleepwalkers reported had doubled in the past week, the cases becoming more and more frequent, the spells of amnesia and aimless wandering getting longer. He was perplexed by the phenomena, and the piece of evidence he had given Batman for analysis hadn't tell them anything.
Batman's own investigation didn't seem to be going much better, either. He was getting frustrated, which meant he was much more work focused than willing to play, which only compounded with Clark's own frustration. The sleepwalkers setting Metropolis on fire, the summer heatwave and a distracted Batman were making short work of his patience. Their cases seemed to be related, the victims’ unresponsive state during the spell and the post-incident shock were similar -but no one had set Gotham on fire, and no one on Metropolis had jumped out of a cliff. Upon waking, the victims had no message to deliver, no idea of what had happened to them, or why. It could happen to anyone, at any time.
It was dangerous. In Gotham City, it had already claimed half a dozen lives, and now the police had a permanent guard set on the Harbor, looking over the cliff that had been the scenario of each and every sleepwalking suicide. In Metropolis, the fires caused by the pre-waking state of the sleepwalkers had yet to have victims, and Clark had no desire to let that change. He was fairly sure there was magic involved, and though the consultations he had been able to make with the magicians pointed towards several paranormal hotspots in Metropolis, no one could say for sure if they had anything to do with the sleepwalkers. Gotham was even worse. After all, what kind of modern city didn't have paranormal hotspots?
He thought about calling Batman, but decided against it. His sometimes partner was probably asleep or at work, and he wouldn't appreciate the interruption. Clark scowled. For all the playing hard to get that had been the norm in the past couple of months, the actual unavailability was almost unbearable. He had been having fun, seeing how far he could stretch Bruce's patience and his own, though he knew they had to do something about it soon. Just talking about work was turning into a terrible turn on, not to speak of the sparring sessions where he had been using every ounce of self-restraint to keep them from turning into something else. No, it simply couldn't go on much longer or Clark was going to go mad, but he couldn't deny he liked the slow burn of being with Bruce, smelling sweat and leather, Kevlar and aftershave, hearing the whisper of the cape, the rustle of armor or designer suits against his skin. It made him deliciously warm to think about it, a much more welcome feeling than the summer's humid heat.
He sped up, the city becoming a blur, as he heard a roar and sensed a heat that had nothing to do with the season or the thoughts of his friend. The blue of the bay between Gotham and Metropolis came into view and became a mercurial shift in the edge of his vision as he flew over Metropolis's 164th street. There, on the side of the highway -where the warehouses and the Harbor buildings dwindled and separated- a burst of bright flames.
Wrapped in burning, crackling heat, a sleepwalker stood by the road, trying to hitchhike her way towards Gotham.
---
Batman cursed, trying the commlink. "Come in, Superman. State your situation."
Nothing. The screen on the Batmobile showed a speeding blip crossing over the bay. Superman was coming over to Gotham, not full speed, but his course was sure and steady. He wasn't answering his commlink, hadn't been for the past three hours, maybe more. Batman couldn't be sure how long Kal had been cut off from communications. He gritted his teeth, angry at himself. He hadn't talked with Kal since he had reported one of his sleepwalkers had been trying to get to Gotham, only to get into the pre-wake up state right by the Metropolis-Gotham highway and bursting into flames, and that was at least three days ago.
Something had to be wrong if Kal wasn't answering him.
The wheels of the Batmobile screeched as he took a tight turn, heading for the Harbor. He would meet Kal there, find out what was wrong, and he would fix it. He couldn't take much more of not being able to fix anything. The criminal element in Gotham had been taking on an increasingly frustrated Batman the past month as the sleepwalking jumpers just kept showing up without any way to stop them, prevent them, find out what was happening to them. Batman was at a complete loss, fumbling with the lack of information. His consultations with Zatanna and Jason Blood had been close to useless. Magic hot spots in Gotham were as common as parks, the product of several hundred years of crime and fear, hope and tradition. There wasn't a single energy that hadn't been tapped in the city at some point or another, from fertility rites to demon summoning, passing through ghost activities, suspected undead, supernatural creatures big and small, witch hunts and possessions -he just couldn't narrow it down without more data.
Now, Superman was coming, and a sense of urgency was tugging at Batman. He had to meet him at the Harbor. He had to be there, he had to see Kal, look at him and make sure he was alright, make sure this case hadn't somehow affected him -Kal and magic, it was the worst of combinations.
Slowing down to a stop, he let the engine die before stepping out of the car, his heavy boots hitting the old stone-paved road with a finality that made his heart tumble. He could taste it in the air, something was wrong. The area was dark, a bunch of street lights flickering and creating disperse yellow spots of brightness in the warm night. Not a sound broke the rhythmic crash of the tide against the rocky Gotham coastline, the hypnotic repetitions of the wails of the sea, like wistful sighs of a waiting lover.
Batman stood still for a minute, lost in the sound. A bright spot in the horizon shook him out of the trance. It looked first like the sun, except it was bright red, and it kept growing, coming closer.
"No," Batman said. "Not you."
As the flaming meteor neared Gotham's coastline, Bruce felt his heart stop. He couldn't lose Kal, not now. Not without ever having a chance to touch him, to kiss him, to worship every inch of that perfect body that had taunted him for years, not without telling him everything he never had, not without sharing a lifetime.
Superman's cape was engulfed in flames, the tongues of fire dancing back from his hair, his face and hands, as he sped through the night. Soon he was close enough and Batman could see his eyes, tongues of fire obscuring the topaz-blue eyes of the Kryptonian.
Behind the flames there was no sign of Kal. Only heat, burning everything away.
He ran towards the nearest warehouse, shooting a grapple in an attempt to reach the roof before Superman flew away from the Harbor. It didn't look like he was going to stop there, and Batman couldn't let him fly into the city like that. He was dangerous. He hated thinking about that, just how dangerous Kal could be, how dangerous they could be to each other. He steeled himself, reaching the rooftop just in time to shoot a second grapple at the flying man, letting him pull him after him. He wasn't going to let fear make the decisions for him. Not the fear for his city, nor his fear for Clark, least of all his fear for what they could have together. He was Batman, and he would do whatever he had to to stop Superman for harming others or himself.
Superman's trajectory lowered, and Batman tried to maneuver himself around the roofs and industrial chimneys, but he could feel the line starting to give. Regular fire wouldn't have eaten through the line, he thought angrily. Of course, this wasn't regular fire. It wasn't hurting Kal, it hadn't hurt any of the sleepwalkers, but Bruce could feel the heat even at the distance. He was sure the fire wouldn't be as kind to him.
Kal was moving away from the Harbor, heading towards the rocky coast line. If the line gave over the cliffs, he wouldn't have much chance to survive the fall. He had to try to reach out for Superman.
"Kal! Listen to me! You have to break free of this. You're stronger than this!" Nothing. He had to break free now. "Kal! Damn you, I need you to be stronger than this!"
Cursing as he got no answer, he disengaged the grapple gun, rolling over a rooftop before falling to the docks, using a lamp post as pivot to lose part of his momentum. He still hit the floor hard, but nothing was broken, and he rolled with the fall, getting up with a grunt. Kal was a big red star on the horizon again. He stood there, thinking about his options. His best bet was to call Blood, who was still in the city and could help him figure out the magical force that had possessed Superman. He tried to reach out for his commlink, but his hands wouldn't move. His feet were heavy, glued to the dock, his breathing deep and hard.
Before him, the sea called, the wistful sighs of his waiting lover.
---
Kal's heart skipped a beat. Something was wrong. He couldn't remember where he was, or where he was going, but he was flying on a set course towards Gotham 's downtown.
Fire. Gotham was burning, he noted dispassionately. The buildings, the streets, everything wrapped in beautiful fire, the dance of renewal. It didn't matter. What did he care for the city, when it had already torn him from his lover? What did it matter if Gotham fell or thrived, if it had already taken what he loved the most?
He tried to shake his head, unsure of where the thoughts were coming from. They didn't seem to be his, and yet he could hear the words clearly in his head, a voice like his own, but not entirely his.
Gotham City was burning. He finally caught up with the revelation, and tried to stop mid-air to assess the situation, but he couldn't gain control of his body. Gotham City was burning, Batman's city, and he was doing nothing about it. He was letting people die, and Rao knew where Batman was, if he had called for Kal's assistance to get only silence.
Kal struggled for control, until he noticed the fire didn't seem to be consuming the city. He could feel the heat, but he could see nothing of the destruction and consumption of the fire.
He stared at his own hands. He was engulfed in flames.
He couldn't control his body, but he could control his line of sight, and he could feel and hear. He tried to find the one heartbeat that he knew couldn't be too far from him. Batman would be trying to reach him, contain him, stop him.
The heartbeat was further than he thought it would be. The docks, it seemed. It was slowing down, the breathing that went with it spacing out. Kal tried to swallow. What if he was hurt? What if he had tried to stop him, and Kal had somehow hurt him? It wouldn't be the first time, he thought bitterly. He was dangerous. They were dangerous for each other. That had been the reason beyond all their waiting, after all. For years, they had ignored the attraction between them for the fear of what could happen if something went wrong. Maybe they had been wiser then, keeping their personal Pandora's box closed, trapping hope along with all their fears and desires.
Now the box was open, and they hadn't even had a chance to say anything, to give each other any kind of spoken truth. Kal couldn't stand the thought of having slammed the box shut, leaving hope inside to wither, by doing something he couldn't even remember.
Sleepwalking.
With an angry growl, he stopped mid air. He turned back, flying towards the docks, the slowing heartbeat a beacon in the night.
The fire started to hurt as soon as he took back control of his body. He felt, more than heard, a screeching noise inside his head.
I'll lose her now. I'm going to lose her forever. I need to find her, take her away from them. They will never understand, and she won't stand a chance. I need to find her.
Kal shook the thoughts that weren't quite his, and sped up. He had the gnawing feeling that he knew where to find Batman.
He got to the pier just in time to see Batman take a step into the void. His arms were open, like he was waiting for the embrace of the dark water bellow, uncaring of the jagged rocks that would make the embrace fatal.
She's here. Find her. I need to find her.
Superman caught Batman mid air, the fire that blazed on him moving to dance around the man on his arms, their capes flapping as they flew up, away from the rocks, a bright torch reflecting in the crashing waves below. Kal's relief was short-lived as the smell of burning leather rose all around them. The fire that would not harm him was quickly consuming Bruce.
My love.
With the flames roaring all around them, Kal flew them back into the water. Just before immersion, he turned to face Batman, who wasn't limp in his arms anymore, but clinging to him with all his strength. It had to hurt, the fire, the asphyxia. But neither of those things seemed to matter to Bruce, and a gloved hand reached out for Clark's hair, pulling him closer, their mouths clashing in a searing kiss.
It felt like a goodbye.
Kal sunk them deep into the cool dark water, trying to turn the kiss into a beginning and not an end.
At last.
---
It wasn't a story anyone remembered. It was tragic, and mysterious, but the truth was that for a long time no one wanted to think about it, and afterwards there was no one who knew enough about them to turn their story into a tale.
They had lived together, loved and cherished each other, hiding their love from the eyes of their hometown. Her love was a blonde beauty, fair skinned and with gorgeous grey eyes. The townsfolk didn't care much for her, said she had the grace of a cow and the looks to go with that. They didn't know her love like she did, they couldn't see her inner beauty. It hurt, the way they would talk behind her love's back, how she had had to resign herself to room with the town's midwife because no man would wed her. It wasn't true, but it hurt. Still, perhaps it was better that way, if they could hide their beauty and truth from prying eyes no ill would come of their love.
But in time it did. The village had a bad flu, and a couple of babies were born with ill signs. Some of the cattle caught a disease and died. They said it was the work of a witch. She laughed at this. It had been a plague brought by the summer rains, the cattle catching something from the local bats, who happened to be sick. The babies, she didn't know. But it wasn't the work of a witch, because she was the only witch in town, and she hadn't done anything of the like.
Not that the townsfolk were willing to believe her. Those that would come to her for a remedy for their sickness, for love potions and good luck charms, the women she had helped give birth, the children she had brought to the world, none of them would believe her when she said it hadn't been witchcraft, but bad luck. In the whole town she hadn't had a single friend but her love.
After running away and hiding for a while, the good people of the town that one day would be Metropolis condemned her to burn at the stake. Just before they took her away, she promised her love she would come back to find her and keep her company. She told her to find a new home, somewhere where she could be safe, because if the situation in the town didn't improve, they would do away with her too, and her love wasn't a witch. Her love could not find a way to come back to her if they burned her, and she could not face eternity without her.
Her love was brave, and watched her burn without shedding a tear. She didn't burn the way human flesh does, because the fire was her friend, and she only melted, seeping into the ground, going to sleep to regain her strength before heading out to find her love in the form of a cat or a bird. She didn't fear, and hoped her love wasn't afraid, either.
Her love moved to a town beyond the bay, a place that one day would become the proud city of Gotham. But she was a stranger there, and ill things happened in Gotham often enough. Before the year turned and she could come back to find her love, the people of Gotham tried her for witchcraft. She was to jump from the pier; if she survived, then she was a witch and they would hunt her down. If she didn't, then her soul would be taken in by the Lord, and she would rest in peace.
Her love was not a witch, but her soul did not rest in peace after she died. The witch tried to reach her for years, tried to find her way into the town beyond the bay, but she couldn't find her.
Her love was dead.
It didn't stop her from searching, whenever she could muster the strength. Every summer, as the cycle closed, she ventured out, calling for her. And every summer, her love fell to her death, into the sweet embrace of the sea.
---
Kal stared at the sky. The moon had set a while ago, and there were no other lights on the pier. With Gotham behind him, he could pretend there was nothing around them but the sea. All he had to do was close his senses, narrowing his world down to the sea and Bruce.
"Kal," Bruce said, his voice harsh from the smoke and the water. He paused for a long time, staring at the sky beside him. "Thank you."
Kal stayed silent. He had felt the gratitude of another when he kissed Bruce, as they dove into the water. Someone thankful for a final reunion of lovers from a long time ago. He couldn't explain how he knew it, but he was sure he would not run into more sleepwalkers in Metropolis, and that there would be no more in Gotham, either.
"I think they are gone," he said into the quiet night.
"I think so, yes."
"They were happy to be together."
Bruce grunted, carding a hand through his hair, his cowl hanging behind his neck. His uniform was scorched, his cape in tatters. The lower half of his face, where he wore no protection, was reddened, but not terribly burned as Kal had feared. It could have been much worse if Batman's suit wasn't fire retardant and insulated, though he had a nasty cough that Kal would feel better if he got it checked.
"This could have been a disaster."
"Magic usually is."
Kal turned towards him, meeting his eyes. "I mean us."
Bruce set his jaw, his lips turning into a hard thin line. "Don't."
"I mean it. This is exactly the kind of situation that kept us from doing anything before." They hadn't talked about what they felt for each other before, and he didn't want to talk about it now, make it real, only to destroy it.
"Kept us from what, Kal? From saying what we knew anyway? I never needed you to say it. We both know it's there. Are we going to let fear get in the way?"
He looked fierce, dangerous. Kal swallowed. If Bruce could admit it, if he could accept the price, what choice did Kal have? Back out, apologize and leave? Lose his chance, lose their chance, out of fear of losing each other down the line? It was unavoidable. But he could make something out of the love they had in the meantime.
Bruce took his silence as indecision, and took a step forward. "I have never been afraid of you. I know what you can do, what we can do together. They are going to get us anyway, Kal. We’re all going to die. We should at least make the best out of our lives. I don't want to pretend I don't know I'm the best damn thing for you." He took a deep breath. "I'm tired of playing games."
Kal smiled, taking a step forward, bringing them closer together. "If you're not afraid, then I'm not afraid either."
Bruce laughed lowly. "Of course I'm afraid. Terrified. But fear is a tool, and I won't let it control me."
"Are you trying to convince me, or yourself?"
"Mostly myself."
"It's a very good pitch, though." Kal reached out to trace the swollen lips and the reddened skin. "I'm tired of games, too." He let his hands wander for the first time, caressing the wet, soft hair and the damp skin that would taste like the sea. Kal took a deep breath. "Promise me we'll find each other, no matter what."
Bruce nodded. "Anywhere."
They remained in silence for a moment, and Kal let himself trace and touch every crease and line of the handsome face. A part of him wanted to bury his doubts and fears, but he knew they would come out again someday. He had to face them now, make his choice now and never look back. "The other kiss. Was it them? Or…" He trailed off, remembering how it had felt like a goodbye.
"I don't know. I wanted to do it." Bruce shrugged again. "Does it matter?"
Kal thought about it, then shook his head. It had been them, and it had been the others. As one cycle closed, another had begun. It didn't have to end for them as it ended for the other two, with pain and injustice and a circle of death. They could hope, at least, and hope was their secret weapon. Kal smiled. "No, I don't think it matters."
Bruce's eyes lowered, staring at his lips. "So, what now?"
Kal chuckled, then cleared his throat. "I've been attracted to you for years, and I was hoping I could get a chance to woo you."
Bruce laughed. "I think we're way past the wooing."
"I insist on it."
Bruce shook his head, his eyes still on Kal's lips. He reached up, tugging at Kal's hair, long fingers brushing against his scalp. Kal turned towards the touch, nuzzling the gloved hand, closing his eyes. The smell of the burnt armor tugged at his heart, the fear replaying in his mind. He could lose him, he could truly lose him now. But he could also have him, and that had to be enough. He planted a kiss on the open palm as a thumb traced his cheekbones. Bruce took a deep, shaky breath, and pulled him close for a kiss. It was slow and a little clumsy, and Kal chuckled into it, knowing they were both trying to not be too desperate. Bruce's teeth captured his lower lip, and Kal knew he had been restraining for long enough. Wrapping an arm around Bruce's waist, he pulled upwards, into the sky.
"To the Manor?" He asked softly.
"To the Manor," Bruce said, breaking off his study of Kal's mouth. "Tim is going to be happy to know we can patrol together again," he said, amused.
"Oh?"
"We were driving him crazy."
Kal smiled. "Oh, well. He says that now, but wait until he gets a Kryptonian of his own."
Bruce raised an eyebrow at that, and shook his head. "If he's anything like me, I hope he does. It would make him happy."
Kal tightened his hold on his partner, drawing a dizzying arc in the sky, his joy entwining with the starlight, letting his fears melt away in the warm air of the summer night.
Title: Secrets of fire
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Superman/Batman, unnamed female couple
Word Count: 6200+
Summary: Superman and Batman like to pretend they don't know they know they like each other. Also: witches, magic, and a grumpy Tim.
Notes: Gold medalist for the Long Story and the Romance categories for the World's Finest Summer Games.
The moment the incoming call buzzed in the commlink, Tim felt the change in the air. He rolled his eyes, turning his head a fraction towards his mentor. There it was: the pull of an unconscious smile, the change in rhythm of the typing on the keyboard that was the equivalent of humming in bat-speak. And then Bruce spoke, his voice low and colored with a smile he couldn't suppress.
"Yes, I'm here", he said, and the way he said it turned the simple three words into a clear come-on. Tim had been witness to dozens of exchanges just like this over the past few months. It was driving him insane to be around Batman when he was focusing on Superman; the vigilante was set on denying all evidence of the attraction between them, armed with a stubborn grim look and an all-business attitude that would have been more convincing if the whole act didn't fly out the window the second Kal buzzed the commlink.
"Robin and I are working on a case near the Harbor area. We’ll be there later, after patrol." Batman paused, glancing at Robin. His smile had receded to a merely pleasant expression -which was still a rare look for Batman- while he talked business with Kal. Good. Tim didn't want to sit through another social call. He would have left his mentor alone with his caller if he didn't know his presence made Bruce uncomfortable; it served him right to embarrass himself in front of Robin, acting like a lovesick teenager, instead of just admitting he was attracted to Superman.
Not that Superman scored much higher in Tim's book right now. In this game of cat and alien cat, they were both ineffectively chasing their tails -an image he tried not to picture in his head- while they pretended things were perfectly normal between them.
Things weren't normal. Tim knew that. Dick knew that. Babs knew that. Alfred, Cassie and Kara knew that. Even the JLA and Gotham's rogues knew that; maybe they didn't know what was going on -they had missed the 'Of Course We’re Not Flirting' calls and meetings- but they could tell something was happening.
You could hardly expect business as usual when you had Gotham’s Dark Knight and Metropolis’s Man of Steel pretending not to be pawing at each other.
Tim ground his teeth. He needed to find a better metaphor. That chasing tail part was too graphic for comfort. Bruce's low laugh rumbled from a few feet beside him, and Tim stood up, throwing his hands up in the air as he climbed up the stairs, leaving the Cave and the asphyxiating smell of romance behind him.
As far as he was concerned, Batman was patrolling solo until he resolved his situation with Superman and they started acting like serious crime fighters again. Tim had enough awkward romance in his own life to put up with theirs.
--
Batman stood on the pier of Gotham Harbor, hearing the waves crashing below him. Far in the horizon, lights lit up the night sky: it was Metropolis, Gotham's sister city, the Jewel of the Coast. Gotham was a proud city, her past living on in every brick, every piece of masonry; the stone-paved small streets of downtown were the sewing lines that stitched her together. Wind currents brought fog banks to Gotham that were seldom seen in Metropolis, where the past was constantly torn apart so they could build a better future. Metropolis pointed to a brighter tomorrow, cherishing and protecting hope and dreams, while Gotham cradled the past with mossy stone hands and a knowing, seducing smile.
Separated by a forty miles wide gulf, each city looked at the sea while glancing at the other one. Getting from one city to the other took time -a four hour drive in light traffic, bordering the bay all the while. That was, of course, unless you could fly faster than a speeding bullet.
"I'm here," Batman said into his commlink. His cape flapped around him, the breeze cool against his exposed cheeks as a rush of wind signaled the arrival of the Man of Steel.
"Hey," Superman replied, his voice coming from a few feet above and behind him. "Where's Robin?"
Batman took a moment to reply, waiting to hear the touch of his Superman's boots on the floor. He turned then, looking at the Kryptonian's half smile. It was a promising smile, one that spoke of delightful secrets and thrilling mysteries. It was a smile that revealed as much as it concealed, a gesture that spoke to Batman, to Bruce, better than any words could.
"He's out solo tonight."
"He seems to be doing that a lot lately. Is he seeing anybody?" Superman said, laughter in his eyes.
Batman snorted, turning to walk back to the Harbor. "Not to my knowledge." He could feel Kal just a step behind him, and he was certain his cape was brushing against Superman's legs as they walked. He swallowed and licked his lips before turning to look at him, tasting the salt of the summer breeze on them. "You said you had something to show me?"
"Yes, though we should probably take it to the Cave," Superman said, picking a small object from the pocket in his cape and handing it to Batman. Batman's fingers brushed against Superman's palm, the touch lingering just a second longer than it should have. He wished he wasn't wearing the gloves, but he couldn't help returning the Kryptonian's broadening smile. They would have to do something about their situation, and soon. Batman only had so much restraint, and sometimes he was so lost in their game he could barely pay attention to the matters at hand. The attraction was starting to affect his work, and he couldn't allow that, neither of them could. Though, it wasn't so much the attraction that was driving him crazy -he had known Kal for a decade, and the chemistry had always been there- but the acknowledgement of its existence and the subsequent inaction.
They had to do something about it, but he would keep up with the game for as long as necessary. Batman was just as resistant to Superman's magnetism, to Kal's otherworldly beauty, to Clark’s charms, as Superman was to Batman. If Kal could keep a straight face, then so could he. He wasn't giving in so easily; they kept upping the ante, each meeting just a little closer to rapture, and impossibly frustrating.
Batman looked at the object Superman had brought for analysis and did a double take. "Kal," he said, narrowing his eyes, the lenses of the cowl reduced to thin white slits. "This is a piece of wood."
"I know. I gave it the full specter: x-rays, molecular composition, energy readings. Nothing. It's just wood."
The handsome face wasn't smiling anymore, but the thoughtful look, with the creased brow and the pursed lips, did terrible things to Bruce. Batman remained impassive, waiting for the rest of the explanation.
"That's why I brought it to you. I couldn't find anything special about it."
"Where did you find it?"
"By another of the abducted. It was part of the bench where the police found her. The rest was almost completely consumed; just a few bits remained like this. It's just like the others."
Batman nodded. The abducted, the Metropolis tabloids claimed, were people who had been kidnapped by aliens -or by a government conspiracy, public opinion swayed between the two options. So far, there were six cases reported, four women and two men, from all kinds of backgrounds. They had nothing in common, nothing to tie them together, except they had all disappeared for twenty-four hours and then reappeared on the other side of town, confused and disoriented, without trace of substances in their blood, surrounded by the aftermath of a small fire, thought the victims showed no signs of harm. He was keeping tabs on the incidents, but it was Superman's case, and he hadn't asked for help until now.
"What do you want me to check it for?" He asked, turning the piece of carbon in his hands.
"Well," Superman paused, reaching to rub his neck. Batman looked up, sensing his discomfort.
"Kal?"
"You have more experience than I do with magic. I thought maybe you could see if you found anything paranormal about it."
"I don't like magic."
Superman smiled, reaching out to put a friendly hand on his shoulder. His warmth seemed to bypass the thermal insulation of the suit, reaching Bruce's skin without delay. “Believe me, I wouldn't bring this to you if I wasn't running out of options.” The charged look of his topaz blue eyes made Batman's hands clench viciously. "I need your help, B."
Batman nodded. "I'll do whatever I can. Now, come," he said, putting the sample in one of the compartments of his utility belt and turning towards the rocky shores of Gotham Harbor. At some points, it was quite a fall towards the sea, and the ragged shores made them even more dangerous. Crabs scurried between the rocks under the glare of Batman's small flashlight as he descended, looking for clues for the latest Harbor murder. Five victims in the past three weeks: at first they had been ruled as suicides, but there had been no notes, no previous signs of depression or suicidal behavior; the jumpers landing always around the same spot. It didn't seem random, but there wasn't evidence of a cult either. Superman floated beside him, trying to keep from upsetting the ground and any evidence Batman could find.
"What do you want me to do?"
Batman looked at him sideways, wishing he could answer that question honestly, but his city was first. The people they protected were first. Still, he would settle for seconds, moments stolen from their lives; he would be content with whatever they could give each other, because he was sure it would be more than enough. Superman took a deep breath, opening his mouth to say something, when a blur flickered in the edge of Batman's vision.
Superman was up in the air and heading in the direction of the falling body before he could turn around and shoot a grappling hook. The jumper struggled in Superman's arms for a moment, then lay limp, all signs of life leaving her. Batman rushed to their side, Kal's feet touching the ground, looking thoughtful. She had to be okay, otherwise he would be rushing her to a hospital, giving her first aid, anything other than looking at Batman with worried eyes. Superman trusted the girl to Batman's arms, and took off to check the Harbor.
Batman lowered her, inspecting her. She looked pale and drawn, like she was sleeping through a nightmare, but her pulse was steady. He removed his cape and covered the young woman with it, darkness pooling over her. She was cold to the touch.
"O, I need an ambulance. Superman saved one of our Harbor suicides. She's unconscious," he said into his commlink. Kal returned, landing beside him. The look on his face said it was bad news.
"Nothing. The area is clear. No thermal signals but hers." He hesitated, then shook his head. "She looks just like my abductees."
"Magic," Batman growled. Mind control and hypnotic suggestions also came to mind. He clenched his fists, turning to look at Metropolis lights in the horizon. "Maybe you should leave, Kal. I'll keep an eye on her."
"Let me know if you find anything," Superman said, nodding once. "Be careful, B."
Batman allowed himself a small smile. "You too." He tried not to think about Superman's vulnerability to magic as he saw him take off, flying back to his city.
The game was over, at least for tonight. There were people who needed them, and they would always come first.
---
Superman flew over Metropolis, the midday humid heat almost unbearable for the city dwellers and mildly annoying for the Man of Steel, his uniform clinging to his skin and his sense of smell too well tuned for the city smells. He speeded through the maze of skyscrapers, his eyes stopping a millisecond on each pedestrian, looking for a set of symptoms. Granted, the symptoms were vague enough that his chances of finding one of the people the press had been calling the abductees, now the sleepwalkers, were almost null, but it didn't hurt to try while he did his patrol rounds. The number of sleepwalkers reported had doubled in the past week, the cases becoming more and more frequent, the spells of amnesia and aimless wandering getting longer. He was perplexed by the phenomena, and the piece of evidence he had given Batman for analysis hadn't tell them anything.
Batman's own investigation didn't seem to be going much better, either. He was getting frustrated, which meant he was much more work focused than willing to play, which only compounded with Clark's own frustration. The sleepwalkers setting Metropolis on fire, the summer heatwave and a distracted Batman were making short work of his patience. Their cases seemed to be related, the victims’ unresponsive state during the spell and the post-incident shock were similar -but no one had set Gotham on fire, and no one on Metropolis had jumped out of a cliff. Upon waking, the victims had no message to deliver, no idea of what had happened to them, or why. It could happen to anyone, at any time.
It was dangerous. In Gotham City, it had already claimed half a dozen lives, and now the police had a permanent guard set on the Harbor, looking over the cliff that had been the scenario of each and every sleepwalking suicide. In Metropolis, the fires caused by the pre-waking state of the sleepwalkers had yet to have victims, and Clark had no desire to let that change. He was fairly sure there was magic involved, and though the consultations he had been able to make with the magicians pointed towards several paranormal hotspots in Metropolis, no one could say for sure if they had anything to do with the sleepwalkers. Gotham was even worse. After all, what kind of modern city didn't have paranormal hotspots?
He thought about calling Batman, but decided against it. His sometimes partner was probably asleep or at work, and he wouldn't appreciate the interruption. Clark scowled. For all the playing hard to get that had been the norm in the past couple of months, the actual unavailability was almost unbearable. He had been having fun, seeing how far he could stretch Bruce's patience and his own, though he knew they had to do something about it soon. Just talking about work was turning into a terrible turn on, not to speak of the sparring sessions where he had been using every ounce of self-restraint to keep them from turning into something else. No, it simply couldn't go on much longer or Clark was going to go mad, but he couldn't deny he liked the slow burn of being with Bruce, smelling sweat and leather, Kevlar and aftershave, hearing the whisper of the cape, the rustle of armor or designer suits against his skin. It made him deliciously warm to think about it, a much more welcome feeling than the summer's humid heat.
He sped up, the city becoming a blur, as he heard a roar and sensed a heat that had nothing to do with the season or the thoughts of his friend. The blue of the bay between Gotham and Metropolis came into view and became a mercurial shift in the edge of his vision as he flew over Metropolis's 164th street. There, on the side of the highway -where the warehouses and the Harbor buildings dwindled and separated- a burst of bright flames.
Wrapped in burning, crackling heat, a sleepwalker stood by the road, trying to hitchhike her way towards Gotham.
---
Batman cursed, trying the commlink. "Come in, Superman. State your situation."
Nothing. The screen on the Batmobile showed a speeding blip crossing over the bay. Superman was coming over to Gotham, not full speed, but his course was sure and steady. He wasn't answering his commlink, hadn't been for the past three hours, maybe more. Batman couldn't be sure how long Kal had been cut off from communications. He gritted his teeth, angry at himself. He hadn't talked with Kal since he had reported one of his sleepwalkers had been trying to get to Gotham, only to get into the pre-wake up state right by the Metropolis-Gotham highway and bursting into flames, and that was at least three days ago.
Something had to be wrong if Kal wasn't answering him.
The wheels of the Batmobile screeched as he took a tight turn, heading for the Harbor. He would meet Kal there, find out what was wrong, and he would fix it. He couldn't take much more of not being able to fix anything. The criminal element in Gotham had been taking on an increasingly frustrated Batman the past month as the sleepwalking jumpers just kept showing up without any way to stop them, prevent them, find out what was happening to them. Batman was at a complete loss, fumbling with the lack of information. His consultations with Zatanna and Jason Blood had been close to useless. Magic hot spots in Gotham were as common as parks, the product of several hundred years of crime and fear, hope and tradition. There wasn't a single energy that hadn't been tapped in the city at some point or another, from fertility rites to demon summoning, passing through ghost activities, suspected undead, supernatural creatures big and small, witch hunts and possessions -he just couldn't narrow it down without more data.
Now, Superman was coming, and a sense of urgency was tugging at Batman. He had to meet him at the Harbor. He had to be there, he had to see Kal, look at him and make sure he was alright, make sure this case hadn't somehow affected him -Kal and magic, it was the worst of combinations.
Slowing down to a stop, he let the engine die before stepping out of the car, his heavy boots hitting the old stone-paved road with a finality that made his heart tumble. He could taste it in the air, something was wrong. The area was dark, a bunch of street lights flickering and creating disperse yellow spots of brightness in the warm night. Not a sound broke the rhythmic crash of the tide against the rocky Gotham coastline, the hypnotic repetitions of the wails of the sea, like wistful sighs of a waiting lover.
Batman stood still for a minute, lost in the sound. A bright spot in the horizon shook him out of the trance. It looked first like the sun, except it was bright red, and it kept growing, coming closer.
"No," Batman said. "Not you."
As the flaming meteor neared Gotham's coastline, Bruce felt his heart stop. He couldn't lose Kal, not now. Not without ever having a chance to touch him, to kiss him, to worship every inch of that perfect body that had taunted him for years, not without telling him everything he never had, not without sharing a lifetime.
Superman's cape was engulfed in flames, the tongues of fire dancing back from his hair, his face and hands, as he sped through the night. Soon he was close enough and Batman could see his eyes, tongues of fire obscuring the topaz-blue eyes of the Kryptonian.
Behind the flames there was no sign of Kal. Only heat, burning everything away.
He ran towards the nearest warehouse, shooting a grapple in an attempt to reach the roof before Superman flew away from the Harbor. It didn't look like he was going to stop there, and Batman couldn't let him fly into the city like that. He was dangerous. He hated thinking about that, just how dangerous Kal could be, how dangerous they could be to each other. He steeled himself, reaching the rooftop just in time to shoot a second grapple at the flying man, letting him pull him after him. He wasn't going to let fear make the decisions for him. Not the fear for his city, nor his fear for Clark, least of all his fear for what they could have together. He was Batman, and he would do whatever he had to to stop Superman for harming others or himself.
Superman's trajectory lowered, and Batman tried to maneuver himself around the roofs and industrial chimneys, but he could feel the line starting to give. Regular fire wouldn't have eaten through the line, he thought angrily. Of course, this wasn't regular fire. It wasn't hurting Kal, it hadn't hurt any of the sleepwalkers, but Bruce could feel the heat even at the distance. He was sure the fire wouldn't be as kind to him.
Kal was moving away from the Harbor, heading towards the rocky coast line. If the line gave over the cliffs, he wouldn't have much chance to survive the fall. He had to try to reach out for Superman.
"Kal! Listen to me! You have to break free of this. You're stronger than this!" Nothing. He had to break free now. "Kal! Damn you, I need you to be stronger than this!"
Cursing as he got no answer, he disengaged the grapple gun, rolling over a rooftop before falling to the docks, using a lamp post as pivot to lose part of his momentum. He still hit the floor hard, but nothing was broken, and he rolled with the fall, getting up with a grunt. Kal was a big red star on the horizon again. He stood there, thinking about his options. His best bet was to call Blood, who was still in the city and could help him figure out the magical force that had possessed Superman. He tried to reach out for his commlink, but his hands wouldn't move. His feet were heavy, glued to the dock, his breathing deep and hard.
Before him, the sea called, the wistful sighs of his waiting lover.
---
Kal's heart skipped a beat. Something was wrong. He couldn't remember where he was, or where he was going, but he was flying on a set course towards Gotham 's downtown.
Fire. Gotham was burning, he noted dispassionately. The buildings, the streets, everything wrapped in beautiful fire, the dance of renewal. It didn't matter. What did he care for the city, when it had already torn him from his lover? What did it matter if Gotham fell or thrived, if it had already taken what he loved the most?
He tried to shake his head, unsure of where the thoughts were coming from. They didn't seem to be his, and yet he could hear the words clearly in his head, a voice like his own, but not entirely his.
Gotham City was burning. He finally caught up with the revelation, and tried to stop mid-air to assess the situation, but he couldn't gain control of his body. Gotham City was burning, Batman's city, and he was doing nothing about it. He was letting people die, and Rao knew where Batman was, if he had called for Kal's assistance to get only silence.
Kal struggled for control, until he noticed the fire didn't seem to be consuming the city. He could feel the heat, but he could see nothing of the destruction and consumption of the fire.
He stared at his own hands. He was engulfed in flames.
He couldn't control his body, but he could control his line of sight, and he could feel and hear. He tried to find the one heartbeat that he knew couldn't be too far from him. Batman would be trying to reach him, contain him, stop him.
The heartbeat was further than he thought it would be. The docks, it seemed. It was slowing down, the breathing that went with it spacing out. Kal tried to swallow. What if he was hurt? What if he had tried to stop him, and Kal had somehow hurt him? It wouldn't be the first time, he thought bitterly. He was dangerous. They were dangerous for each other. That had been the reason beyond all their waiting, after all. For years, they had ignored the attraction between them for the fear of what could happen if something went wrong. Maybe they had been wiser then, keeping their personal Pandora's box closed, trapping hope along with all their fears and desires.
Now the box was open, and they hadn't even had a chance to say anything, to give each other any kind of spoken truth. Kal couldn't stand the thought of having slammed the box shut, leaving hope inside to wither, by doing something he couldn't even remember.
Sleepwalking.
With an angry growl, he stopped mid air. He turned back, flying towards the docks, the slowing heartbeat a beacon in the night.
The fire started to hurt as soon as he took back control of his body. He felt, more than heard, a screeching noise inside his head.
I'll lose her now. I'm going to lose her forever. I need to find her, take her away from them. They will never understand, and she won't stand a chance. I need to find her.
Kal shook the thoughts that weren't quite his, and sped up. He had the gnawing feeling that he knew where to find Batman.
He got to the pier just in time to see Batman take a step into the void. His arms were open, like he was waiting for the embrace of the dark water bellow, uncaring of the jagged rocks that would make the embrace fatal.
She's here. Find her. I need to find her.
Superman caught Batman mid air, the fire that blazed on him moving to dance around the man on his arms, their capes flapping as they flew up, away from the rocks, a bright torch reflecting in the crashing waves below. Kal's relief was short-lived as the smell of burning leather rose all around them. The fire that would not harm him was quickly consuming Bruce.
My love.
With the flames roaring all around them, Kal flew them back into the water. Just before immersion, he turned to face Batman, who wasn't limp in his arms anymore, but clinging to him with all his strength. It had to hurt, the fire, the asphyxia. But neither of those things seemed to matter to Bruce, and a gloved hand reached out for Clark's hair, pulling him closer, their mouths clashing in a searing kiss.
It felt like a goodbye.
Kal sunk them deep into the cool dark water, trying to turn the kiss into a beginning and not an end.
At last.
---
It wasn't a story anyone remembered. It was tragic, and mysterious, but the truth was that for a long time no one wanted to think about it, and afterwards there was no one who knew enough about them to turn their story into a tale.
They had lived together, loved and cherished each other, hiding their love from the eyes of their hometown. Her love was a blonde beauty, fair skinned and with gorgeous grey eyes. The townsfolk didn't care much for her, said she had the grace of a cow and the looks to go with that. They didn't know her love like she did, they couldn't see her inner beauty. It hurt, the way they would talk behind her love's back, how she had had to resign herself to room with the town's midwife because no man would wed her. It wasn't true, but it hurt. Still, perhaps it was better that way, if they could hide their beauty and truth from prying eyes no ill would come of their love.
But in time it did. The village had a bad flu, and a couple of babies were born with ill signs. Some of the cattle caught a disease and died. They said it was the work of a witch. She laughed at this. It had been a plague brought by the summer rains, the cattle catching something from the local bats, who happened to be sick. The babies, she didn't know. But it wasn't the work of a witch, because she was the only witch in town, and she hadn't done anything of the like.
Not that the townsfolk were willing to believe her. Those that would come to her for a remedy for their sickness, for love potions and good luck charms, the women she had helped give birth, the children she had brought to the world, none of them would believe her when she said it hadn't been witchcraft, but bad luck. In the whole town she hadn't had a single friend but her love.
After running away and hiding for a while, the good people of the town that one day would be Metropolis condemned her to burn at the stake. Just before they took her away, she promised her love she would come back to find her and keep her company. She told her to find a new home, somewhere where she could be safe, because if the situation in the town didn't improve, they would do away with her too, and her love wasn't a witch. Her love could not find a way to come back to her if they burned her, and she could not face eternity without her.
Her love was brave, and watched her burn without shedding a tear. She didn't burn the way human flesh does, because the fire was her friend, and she only melted, seeping into the ground, going to sleep to regain her strength before heading out to find her love in the form of a cat or a bird. She didn't fear, and hoped her love wasn't afraid, either.
Her love moved to a town beyond the bay, a place that one day would become the proud city of Gotham. But she was a stranger there, and ill things happened in Gotham often enough. Before the year turned and she could come back to find her love, the people of Gotham tried her for witchcraft. She was to jump from the pier; if she survived, then she was a witch and they would hunt her down. If she didn't, then her soul would be taken in by the Lord, and she would rest in peace.
Her love was not a witch, but her soul did not rest in peace after she died. The witch tried to reach her for years, tried to find her way into the town beyond the bay, but she couldn't find her.
Her love was dead.
It didn't stop her from searching, whenever she could muster the strength. Every summer, as the cycle closed, she ventured out, calling for her. And every summer, her love fell to her death, into the sweet embrace of the sea.
---
Kal stared at the sky. The moon had set a while ago, and there were no other lights on the pier. With Gotham behind him, he could pretend there was nothing around them but the sea. All he had to do was close his senses, narrowing his world down to the sea and Bruce.
"Kal," Bruce said, his voice harsh from the smoke and the water. He paused for a long time, staring at the sky beside him. "Thank you."
Kal stayed silent. He had felt the gratitude of another when he kissed Bruce, as they dove into the water. Someone thankful for a final reunion of lovers from a long time ago. He couldn't explain how he knew it, but he was sure he would not run into more sleepwalkers in Metropolis, and that there would be no more in Gotham, either.
"I think they are gone," he said into the quiet night.
"I think so, yes."
"They were happy to be together."
Bruce grunted, carding a hand through his hair, his cowl hanging behind his neck. His uniform was scorched, his cape in tatters. The lower half of his face, where he wore no protection, was reddened, but not terribly burned as Kal had feared. It could have been much worse if Batman's suit wasn't fire retardant and insulated, though he had a nasty cough that Kal would feel better if he got it checked.
"This could have been a disaster."
"Magic usually is."
Kal turned towards him, meeting his eyes. "I mean us."
Bruce set his jaw, his lips turning into a hard thin line. "Don't."
"I mean it. This is exactly the kind of situation that kept us from doing anything before." They hadn't talked about what they felt for each other before, and he didn't want to talk about it now, make it real, only to destroy it.
"Kept us from what, Kal? From saying what we knew anyway? I never needed you to say it. We both know it's there. Are we going to let fear get in the way?"
He looked fierce, dangerous. Kal swallowed. If Bruce could admit it, if he could accept the price, what choice did Kal have? Back out, apologize and leave? Lose his chance, lose their chance, out of fear of losing each other down the line? It was unavoidable. But he could make something out of the love they had in the meantime.
Bruce took his silence as indecision, and took a step forward. "I have never been afraid of you. I know what you can do, what we can do together. They are going to get us anyway, Kal. We’re all going to die. We should at least make the best out of our lives. I don't want to pretend I don't know I'm the best damn thing for you." He took a deep breath. "I'm tired of playing games."
Kal smiled, taking a step forward, bringing them closer together. "If you're not afraid, then I'm not afraid either."
Bruce laughed lowly. "Of course I'm afraid. Terrified. But fear is a tool, and I won't let it control me."
"Are you trying to convince me, or yourself?"
"Mostly myself."
"It's a very good pitch, though." Kal reached out to trace the swollen lips and the reddened skin. "I'm tired of games, too." He let his hands wander for the first time, caressing the wet, soft hair and the damp skin that would taste like the sea. Kal took a deep breath. "Promise me we'll find each other, no matter what."
Bruce nodded. "Anywhere."
They remained in silence for a moment, and Kal let himself trace and touch every crease and line of the handsome face. A part of him wanted to bury his doubts and fears, but he knew they would come out again someday. He had to face them now, make his choice now and never look back. "The other kiss. Was it them? Or…" He trailed off, remembering how it had felt like a goodbye.
"I don't know. I wanted to do it." Bruce shrugged again. "Does it matter?"
Kal thought about it, then shook his head. It had been them, and it had been the others. As one cycle closed, another had begun. It didn't have to end for them as it ended for the other two, with pain and injustice and a circle of death. They could hope, at least, and hope was their secret weapon. Kal smiled. "No, I don't think it matters."
Bruce's eyes lowered, staring at his lips. "So, what now?"
Kal chuckled, then cleared his throat. "I've been attracted to you for years, and I was hoping I could get a chance to woo you."
Bruce laughed. "I think we're way past the wooing."
"I insist on it."
Bruce shook his head, his eyes still on Kal's lips. He reached up, tugging at Kal's hair, long fingers brushing against his scalp. Kal turned towards the touch, nuzzling the gloved hand, closing his eyes. The smell of the burnt armor tugged at his heart, the fear replaying in his mind. He could lose him, he could truly lose him now. But he could also have him, and that had to be enough. He planted a kiss on the open palm as a thumb traced his cheekbones. Bruce took a deep, shaky breath, and pulled him close for a kiss. It was slow and a little clumsy, and Kal chuckled into it, knowing they were both trying to not be too desperate. Bruce's teeth captured his lower lip, and Kal knew he had been restraining for long enough. Wrapping an arm around Bruce's waist, he pulled upwards, into the sky.
"To the Manor?" He asked softly.
"To the Manor," Bruce said, breaking off his study of Kal's mouth. "Tim is going to be happy to know we can patrol together again," he said, amused.
"Oh?"
"We were driving him crazy."
Kal smiled. "Oh, well. He says that now, but wait until he gets a Kryptonian of his own."
Bruce raised an eyebrow at that, and shook his head. "If he's anything like me, I hope he does. It would make him happy."
Kal tightened his hold on his partner, drawing a dizzying arc in the sky, his joy entwining with the starlight, letting his fears melt away in the warm air of the summer night.