Fic: Ripples

[cavaleira]

Title: Ripples
Characters/Pairings: Bruce/Clark, Midnighter/Apollo, Superwoman/Batwoman, Hoshi (Tekkohito)/Hana (Komori), and various other versions of DCU characters
For Prompt F52: Clark and Bruce, currently just friends, somehow meet up with (preferably two or more) alternate versions of themselves who are married/in a serious relationship. The episode causes both to rethink their friendship.
Word Count: 4300
Spoilers: For “Shogun of Steel”

The Watchtower was quiet.

Batman sat at the main computer terminal and took a sip of mineral water as he stared at the multiple screens. So far, it was a slow night.

He could feel someone standing, hovering closely behind him.

“Can you not do that?” Batman grumbled. He couldn’t understand why the man always had to stand so damn close to him. It was… distracting.

“Sorry,” Superman chuckled, “I forgot how much you hate that,” but his tone suggested otherwise.

Batman only grunted as the Man of Steel moved out of his personal space. Well, monitor duty with Superman was always interesting at least.

“It looks like a slow night, Bruce. Chess?”

“Okay. Let me just check a few more things and then I’ll set it up on the computer.”

He turned his attention back to the screens, doing a double check on New York, Metropolis, and (of course) Gotham. He went to do a final check on the Watchtower itself when he saw something very strange.

“Superman. Go look out the large windows in the west wing. Tell me what you see.”

Bruce felt a gust of wind as the man left and another when he returned. He turned to face his teammate.

“We have a serious problem, don’t we?”

“Oh yes. I don’t know what that thing was, but it looked almost like some kind of… storm.”

Batman nodded.

“I think it’s a temporal or spacial disturbance of some sort. It could be alien in nature.”

“Yeah. Or it could be magic.”

At that, both men groaned.

“I’ll call Zatanna, or Dr. Fate,” Superman suggested.

“There’s no time,” Batman said as he looked back at the screen, “whatever that thing is, it’s about to hit us.”

I hate magic, was Bruce’s final thought as he felt the world being ripped out from under him.

He was falling.

He was disoriented and unsure of exactly what had happened, but he knew that he was falling, and fast.

He could see the tops of skyscrapers. Gotham skyscrapers.

But at this speed, shooting a grapple and catching it on one of them seemed unlikely.

“A little help,” he said, hoping that in the confusion, he and Superman had ended up in the same place.

He breathed a soft sigh of relief as two strong arms caught him from behind. He could see the flash of red cape out of the corner of his eye. It was… comforting.

They landed on a nearby rooftop. Bruce turned to face his companion, but what he saw stopped him dead in his tracks.

The costume was right. Even the eyes and hair color were a perfect match. But there was one glaring difference.

This person was a woman.

Bruce glanced around a Batcave which seemed so familiar yet so different.

He was standing behind the Batcomputer’s console chair, staring intently at the screen. Batwoman sat in the chair, scanning for information about the disturbance that had brought the men to their Earth.

Both Batman and Batwoman had their cowls down. When doing extensive research, Bruce always preferred working with it down. It made sense that Brooke would prefer the same.

While they worked, they could hear snatches of the conversation of Clark and Clara behind them, talking about Smallville, the Daily Planet, and comparing battles against Lex/Alexa Luthor.

Aside from the reversing of gender, the two worlds were nearly identical.

After Superwoman had rescued Batman, she had contacted Batwoman via commlink. It seemed that Batwoman had just encountered Superman. Although Batwoman had been a bit wary, they had agreed to take the men back to the Batcave to figure out where they had come from and how to send them back.

For Bruce, meeting Batwoman had been surreal, like looking into a slightly distorted mirror. Her movements, mannerisms, and facial expressions were the same. Even their life stories were nearly identical.

Brooke Wayne had been a happy girl, born into the first family of Gotham. Her mother, Theresa, had been a brilliant doctor, and her father, Martin, had been a beloved philanthropist. When they were gunned down by a petty thief, Brooke had sworn that no child would ever suffer what she had gone through. After years of training abroad, she had returned to Gotham and taken up the mantle of the Batwoman.

Brooke stood and turned to face him.

It was still disorienting, looking into blue eyes which both were and were not his own.

“I’ve contacted Zatara and Jayden Blood. They should be here within the hour.”

It seemed a good course of action. The initial disturbance that had brought Bruce and Clark to this parallel world had probably been magic-related anyway.

The Bats approached the Supers, telling them what little information they’d been able to gather. They had settled into another conversation about the similarities and differences between the two worlds when they heard the sound of someone clearing their throat.

“Ahem.”

The four heroes turned and saw a short, elderly woman holding a tray full of food.

“I thought perhaps a snack was in order.”

“Yes, thank you Alice,” Brooke said, taking the tray and setting it down on a nearby table.

Clara began to speak.

“Alice, this is Clark and this is Bruce,” Clara said, “They’re-”

“some sort of inter-dimensional versions of yourselves. Yes, yes,” she interrupted, waving a dismissive hand in the air.

Clara grinned and even Brooke chuckled a little.

“Well, I’ll leave you to your snacks. I do wish you young men a safe trip back to your own dimension.”

“Um… thank you, Alice,” Bruce managed, but she was already on her way up the stairs.

“Nothing fazes Alice,” Clara said.

“Yes, Alfred is pretty much the same,” Clark replied.

“I remember how worried I was when I first moved in to the Manor. How would this proper English lady react to having a super-powered alien in the house? But it was never a problem. She’s always made me feel like part of the family.”

“Wait a second,” Bruce said, trying to process what he’d just heard.

“You live here?” Clark asked, finishing Bruce’s thought.

“Well, yeah,” Clara said, as if it were the most normal thing in the world, “Brooke is my partner after all. You mean the two of you aren’t…?”

“No!” both men said quickly.

“Not that there’s anything wrong with that,” Clark said, “It’s just… wow.”

Clara and Brooke exchanged knowing smiles.

“I’m not surprised that you aren’t,” Brooke said as she reached for a finger sandwich, “It took a long time for Clara and I to reach that point. I can be very… stubborn.”

“That’s an understatement,” Clara said, but her tone was teasing. “You always think the world’s going to end if you allow yourself a little happiness.”

Brooke rolled her eyes and swallowed down the rest of her sandwich.

“Ok. Back to work,” she said. She pulled the cowl back down in anticipation of their visitors.

Bruce did the same. He needed to work. He needed to do something to get over his shock, something to wipe the dumbfounded look off his face.

There were still sandwiches. He would eat. Eating was good. Alfred always said so.

Unfortunately, Clark had also thought it was a good idea. As they both reached for the food, their fingers brushed briefly and they both recoiled.

“Um, go ahead,” Clark said, smiling nervously.

Bruce reached forward again, but the sandwiches and everything around him started to fade.

Once his body registered that he was standing on solid ground again, Bruce breathed in a deep breath. Clark was standing a few feet away. He was grateful that they had shifted together this time, and that he hadn’t ended up in mid-air.

Those, however, were the only good things about where they had ended up.

There was smoke everywhere, buildings crushed, people injured. It was like a war-zone, and the devastation seemed to stretch on for miles.

In the distance, they could make out the letters of the Hollywood sign.

“Looks like some version of Los Angeles. Probably an earthquake. The destruction reminds me of Gotham right before the No Man’s Land.”

“Well, wherever we are, we have to help,” Clark said.

Bruce nodded. The value that Clark placed on all life was one of the things he admired most about the man.

“I can hear people still trapped inside,” Clark said, pointing to a partially collapsed building to their left, “You take woman on the first floor, I’ll get the couple on what’s left of the third floor.”

Bruce nodded again and they both dove into their respective tasks.

Once inside, Batman turned on the infrared vision in his cowl, searching through the rubble for the survivor. He saw a heat signature in the corner, and quickly weaved his way up and around fallen ceiling beams to get to her.

He checked her pulse. She was unconscious and her leg looked broken, but she was alive. Grabbing her in his arms, he maneuvered them out of the building. He was glad to have found her in time. The building looked like it was going to collapse any minute.

Superman descended from the sky, carrying the survivors he had rescued.

“There’s a medical tent not far from here, we can take them there for treatment.”

Clark led the way. When they reached the tent, it was bustling with activity as the medics rushed to give aid to the wounded. They didn’t seem fazed at seeing costumed heroes and quickly took on the victims that Superman and Batman had rescued.

The two men left the tent and looked around at the devastation, trying to decide what to do next.

Some of the survivors were being led through strange orange and yellow portals. This effort was being led by a barefoot man with strange red eyes. The portals seemed to open upon his command.

When he spotted them, his eyes flashed in anger and he quickly made his way to where they were standing. The medics didn’t mind being helped by random costume heroes, but this guy obviously had some issues with it.

“Who the hell are you? Are you with them?”

“We don’t know who they are,” Batman said tersely, “We’re not from this universe. We’re just here to help.”

He gestured to the destruction around them. “It was some stupid rogue meta-human group. When they attacked the city, they triggered a major fault. The earthquake destroyed more than half the city.”

Bruce and Clark both nodded gravely.

“So, you’re from another universe? How did you end up here?”

“We were caught in some kind of disturbance and started randomly shifting between parallel universes. We have no idea how long we’ll be here, but we thought we’d lend a hand,” Superman said.

“Great. Massive earthquake and disturbance in the multi-verse. But that will have to wait. We need to keep evacuating these people to the Carrier.”

“The Carrier?” Superman asked.

“My team’s shiftship.”

The man turned back to his task, and the two heroes prepared to help organize the evacuees.

Another portal appeared and two men stepped out of it. One was tall and fair with flowing white hair and a bright yellow and white uniform. His expression was serious now, but he had the kind of face that looked like he smiled easily and often.

His companion on the other hand, was a different story. The man was clad entirely in black except for a hint of silver in the moon logo on his chest. He wore a cowl, a black leather duster, and a scowl on his face.

“Who are these guys?” the one in black asked.

“I think I know who they are,” the white-haired man said, sizing them up, “I think they’re… us.”

“I think you’re right,” Superman replied, “We just came from a world where we met female versions of ourselves.”

The man in black nodded.

“We’ve met other versions of us before. None as funny-looking as you guys, but still.”

“I’m Apollo, and this is Midnighter.”

“Superman and Batman.”

“So,” Midnighter said to Batman, “what powers do you have?”

“I’m not a meta-human. I’m a highly trained in martial arts, but I’m a detective, a tactician. I plan ahead. I figure out what my enemy is going to before they do it.”

“Hm. I have a computer inside me that calculates over a million possible combat scenarios in a second.”

Batman nodded. In an alternate universe where he was a meta-human, it seemed a very plausible ability for him to have.

“I can see how that would be useful.”

Midnighter smirked. Batman allowed himself a small smile. The man was a little rough around the edges, a little colder, a little more brutal. Batman didn’t feel the same immediate, visceral connection that he’d felt meeting Batwoman. But still, looking at Midnighter and Apollo, there was a sense of… recognition.

“Well, since you’re refugees of a sort, you’re welcome to stay on the Carrier with the others,” Apollo said.

“Yeah,” said Midnighter, “where we can keep an eye on you.”

Batman rolled his eyes, but he also felt a tinge of respect for the man. It was exactly what he would have done.

“We need to check on Jenny anyway,” Apollo said.

“Another teammate?” Superman asked.

“Not exactly,” answered Apollo.

“She’s our daughter,” Midnighter said gruffly as he affectionately brushed dirt off of Apollo’s shoulder.

“Door,” Apollo said, which was good because neither Superman nor Batman knew how to respond to that revelation.

They moved to follow the men through the portal, but everything shifted and they felt themselves fading away again.

Bruce blinked, giving himself a moment to process the shift. Their previous trips had left them in large metropolitan areas in the United States.

This situation was entirely different.

“Where are we now?” Clark asked.

Batman surveyed the countryside, taking in the mountains, the sugi and the cherry blossom trees. Technically, they were lost in a strange universe, but the sights looked very familiar. He’d seen landscapes like this as a young man, traveling the world in search of his own purpose.

“Looks like Japan.”

“Oh.”

They stood awkwardly for a moment, neither willing to look the other in the eye.

“I’ll go scout around. Wait here.”

“Clark-”

But the man was gone.

Bruce grumbled to himself. He knew that meeting two versions of themselves who were… involved had made things a little awkward. But it didn’t mean Clark should just run off without even talking to Bruce about it first.

Not that he’d really done much to facilitate conversation either.

Bruce grumbled and began walking. With any luck he could find some water and a place to rest until Clark came back with intel on the area.

He continued, admiring the lush greenery until he heard the sound of a tree branch snapping.

He was being followed.

Batman stopped, quickly striking a defensive stance. He was in a strange environment and he still didn’t have his bearings about him. It would’ve been nice to have Clark around in this situation, but he would just have to improvise.

He heard another rustling sound and turned quickly, seeing a flash of red out of the corner of his eye. It could have just been a trick of the light, but Batman sincerely doubted it.

He saw the red flash again, moving through the thick foliage. It was definitely no optical illusion; it was a man.

And the man was coming straight for him.

He came at Batman with a series of swift kicks which the Dark Knight was barely able to dodge. Granted, he was nowhere near as fast as Wally or Jay or the others, but the man had to be this world’s Flash.

Batman struck back with a snap kick followed by a punch combination, but the man dodged it.

He was fast alright, but he made the mistake that so many meta-humans made on Batman’s Earth; he relied too much on his special abilities and he didn’t think ahead.

Batman was always thinking ahead.

The man kicked again and Batman ducked, taking the opportunity to quickly plant a small device in the ground. He jumped up, and began throwing batarangs at his opponent.

The man only grinned and dodged them easily. But he didn’t know that Batman wasn’t even really trying to hit him. It wasn’t about that at all. It was about getting him to move over just a few more feet…

There.

There was a loud sound and a flash of light as the man set off the stun grenade. In the confusion, Batman quickly threw a bola, bringing the man down to the ground as it wrapped around his legs.

He stepped forward and triumphantly stood over the dazed man in red.

Now it was time to get some information.

Batman was about to ask the man who he was and why he had attacked him when he heard a whistling sound in the air.

He tried to dodge but it was too late. He grunted as the dart hit him in the shoulder. He cursed as he pulled it out, the dizziness already settling over him.

“Clark,” he said, and then unconsciousness took him over.

“Our leader would like to see you now,” came a deep male voice. His Japanese sounded odd… almost archaic, but Bruce was able to understand well enough. He sat up and stretched, blinking several times to clear his vision.

He had been lying on a small futon, which was positioned over the tatami flooring. Standing before him was a man dressed in green. A quiver with a single arrow in it was slung on his back.

First the Flash, and now Green Arrow. This universe’s counterparts of himself and Superman couldn’t be far behind. He wondered where his Superman was.

And then he wondered when he’d started thinking of him as his Superman.

But there was no time to worry about that now. He turned his attention back to the archer.

“You shot me.”

“Yes,” the man smirked.

Oh, he was definitely Green Arrow.

“We thought you were a spy sent by the enemy so I shot you with a sedative. We captured you and brought you here as a prisoner.”

Bruce nodded and the man continued.

“We were going to have Taka interrogate you, but when our leader saw you, he said to release you. He said he knew you.”

Taka. Apparently this universe had a Hawkman too. Bruce was just glad that he would never have to find out what that interrogation would have been like.

“Come. Tekkohito will meet with you now.”

Tekkohito. Man of Steel.

It seemed that he would be meeting this universe’s Superman sooner than he’d anticipated.

Bruce followed the man down a series of corridors which led them outside. They followed a path bordered by stone lanterns into a beautiful tea garden. At the end of the path was a small wooden chashitsu, where tea ceremonies were held. Not far from the building was a small pond, where a man with long, black hair was sitting. His dark tresses were all pulled back into a ponytail except for a stray, curling lock against his forehead.

The man looked up and Bruce could see the deep blue of his eyes. He was dressed in beautiful robes, elaborately embroidered in blue, red, and gold. On his chest was a pentagonal shield with a stylized red dragon forming an “S” in the center.

The archer returned to the main building, leaving Bruce alone with the Man of Steel.

“Please, sit,” the man said, gesturing to a large, smooth stone not far from the one he was sitting on.

Bruce sat down, unable to take his eyes off of this man who looked so much like his teammate.

“They call me Tekkohito, but you may call me Hoshi.”

“The archer… he said that you knew me.”

“Yes, well, not exactly. I don’t know where you are from, but you are…familiar. Your movements. The symbol you wear. So like Komori, too much to be a coincidence. I’m sure the others think I’m just being foolish,” he chuckled.

“No, I think I can explain it. I’m not from this world. My teammate and I have been visiting other universes and we’ve met those worlds’ versions of us. In fact, I suspect that you’re this world’s version of him.”

“Hm. And perhaps you are your world’s version of Komori.”

Bruce nodded.

“So, tell me about this Komori.”

Hoshi smiled wistfully. “Ah, Komori. The vengeful bat. After her family was killed by the Shogun of Steel, she swore vengeance and led the resistance effort against him. I was reluctant to join them at first, but she… she was so strong, so sure. I’ve never met anyone with such passion, with such an unwavering will to fight for justice.”

“Together, we fought the Shogun of Steel, who turned out to be a being from my own homeworld. In the battle, Komori laid down her life to save mine.”

The man was silent for a moment and Bruce could the emotions running across his face. The grief, blended with the determination to carry on. And there was something else.

“You loved her, didn’t you?”

“Yes. Very much. It is because of her that I live to fight another day, and I do so in her honor.”

Bruce nodded.

“Her story is… not unlike my own.”

There was much more that he wanted to say, and many more questions that he wanted to ask.

His thoughts were interrupted by a gust of wind and then a pair of incredibly warm hands on his shoulders.

“Bruce! Thank God you’re alright. I’m sorry I-”

The words died on Clark’s lips as his eyes met those of his other self.

“So, the Man of Steel comes to rescue his vengeful bat.”

Hoshi smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Bruce could only imagine how painful it must have been for him to see the two of them together. How much it reminded him of all that he had lost.

“Don’t worry, I have not harmed him.”

“No,” Clark said, “of course you wouldn’t.”

“I am glad that you have found your companion,” Hoshi said to Clark, “He explained to me about your situation, your travels between worlds. I think I understand. Watch.”

Reaching into the bedrock, he grabbed a small pebble and dropped it into the pond.

“Look at the ripples. Perhaps Komori is the third one, and you are the fifth,” he said, gesturing to Bruce, “All are but variations on each other, caused by the same source.”

The three men stared at the water, lost in contemplation until Clark broke the silence.

“We’ve been shifting in and out of universes. We don’t know how long we’ll be here until it happens again.”

Hoshi nodded.

“Well, you are welcome to stay here for as long as you like. I have matters to attend to, but I will have someone bring you some tea in the garden. Perhaps later we can continue our conversation over dinner.”

The man left and the two heroes stood in silence, still staring down at the water. Both looking up, their eyes met. Clark opened his mouth to speak, but the whole world shifted again before he could utter a single word.

Batman grunted slightly as he pulled on his left boot. After the last shift, they had ended up back at the Watchtower in their own universe. When the disturbance had hit the Watchtower, the computer had alerted the other League members. It seemed it had all been part of a plot by Felix Faust. If Zatanna and the other magic-users had been unable to counter the effects, the World’s Finest would have been forced to wander the multi-verse indefinitely. They were lucky to not have encountered more hostile worlds. They were lucky to have come back at all.

Exhausted and dirty, Bruce had taken a shower and then gone to his quarters to change into a fresh batsuit. He had considered sleeping on the Watchtower, but decided that he’d much rather be at home in a more comfortable and familiar bed.

He walked out into the hallway. He should have been headed for the teleporter, but instead he found himself seeking out Clark. He found him in an empty corridor, staring out the window into the vastness of space.

“I’m going back planetside. I just wanted to…”

And really, Bruce wasn’t sure what it was he wanted. He didn’t usually go out of his way to say goodbye to Clark or to anyone for that matter.

“You should get some rest,” Bruce said, awkwardly.

Clark nodded, still facing the window.

“I will. I was just… thinking. I mean, how many other worlds are there where you and I…”

Bruce had been unable to stop himself from thinking the exact same thing.

“We only saw three universes, but who knows how many more are out there,” Clark continued.

It was a difficult thought to swallow. The thought of hundreds, even thousands of versions of them out there, living and loving and fighting side by side. But perhaps the most difficult part was thinking that reality might exist in every world except their own.

Bruce swallowed hard, finding the courage to speak.

“There are only those three that we know for sure. Or, there were three.”

Clark turned away from the window to face him.

“There were?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Bruce answered him with a kiss. It was light, almost chaste, but it held the promise of much more to come.

And then it was simple to just take Clark’s hand in his and run slow circles over it with his thumb as they looked at the stars.

It seemed that despite space or time, they would always be drawn to each other. Iteration after iteration of them, stretching on indefinitely like so many ripples on the water.