WFGE Fic: Prompt F28: Logos (Persuasion 3/3)
Title: Logos (Persuasion 3/3)
Pairing: Clark/Bruce
Rating: PG.
Disclaimer: The owners of the World's Finest did not endorse this story.
Warning: I wrote it. You need some other warning?
Word Count: 3442
A/N: This is for World's Finest Gift Exchange. Specifically F28: Hurt/Comfort. Without realizing it, Bruce has something (in his skin, in something he wears…) that makes Clark sick. With each encounter Clark gets worse but he doesn’t want to give up on being near Bruce. They have to figure out what’s going on and how to solve it.
A/N2: Each part of Persuasion is a different prompt. I hope they work together. Each story is intended to be somewhat self contained but also play a part in the larger arc. Ethos, Pathos, and Logos.
Batman leaned back against the glass and studied Superman's sleeping form. He looked down at his notes and turned on his recorder. "The subject is pale and shivering despite the high temperature in the room. Seems to be non-responsive to the yellow light or full spectrum light he has been exposed to." He looked at a still full bowl of chicken noodle soup sitting next to Clark's bed. "Lack of appetite. Extreme weakness. All scans, however, have proved uninstructive. End report." Clark, what's wrong with you? Help me.
Batman turned suddenly and strode to his computer. He pressed a few buttons and the screen flickered to life. "J'onn? Any progress?"
The figure of the Martian Manhunter appeared on the monitor. "Batman... No. I am sorry. The results continue to be the same."
Batman stared at this hands, unmoving. "Fine. I'm coming up." I need to be sure.
J'onn looked over at someone outside of camera range. "I'm not sure that is a good idea, Batman."
"I'm well aware of the quarantine protocols, J'onn. I wrote them myself, as you'll recall. But this disease, or whatever it is, does not appear to be contagious. I'm in there with Clark practically all the time. Alfred willingly exposed himself and is also unaffected. And I need to get access to the samples you have there. If Kara or Karen are on the Watchtower, I suggest you remove them. Immediately. I will be on site in 5 minutes. Batman out." He switched off the monitor. I will do what I have to...
After gathering up a few vials into a sample bag, he walked back to the window. "Clark? If you can hear me, I'm going to the Watchtower to run some more tests. I'll be right back, okay?" Clark didn't move. "Okay. Hang in there, Clark." Hang in there.
*****
Batman stepped out of the teleporter and into the Watchtower. "J'onn."
"Batman, I just--"
"Here." Batman tossed the Martian Manhunter a bag. "That's one of the boxes and a piece of Prometheus' armor. Call in Irons or Holt or, hell, Magnus if you have to. Come back to me with answers, preferably within 24 hours."
J'onn stared down at the bag. "Yes, of course, but..."
"He's dying, J'onn. Let's discuss the niceties later."
J'onn Jones slid in front of the Batman. "I merely wanted to tell you that I have secured a hallway and a lab room for you. We should try to maintain quarantine protocols as much as possible."
Batman pursed his lips. "Thank you, J'onn. Please show me the way."
*****
The Martian Manhunter handed Batman a container full of sealed glass tubes. "These are all the remaining samples. As you can see, we took the added precaution of placing them in the shielded tubes."
Batman reached into the container and extracted one tube. "Why is it brown?"
"I'm sorry?"
"The color, J'onn. Why is this sample brown?"
The Martian Manhunter leaned in toward the sample, regarding it. "That is the color they were when we found them."
"All of them?"
J'onn nodded. "Yes. Why?"
Batman frowned. "Because the bits that I saw were light green. It was, or seemed to be bioluminescent. Unfortunately, I didn't have time to collect samples... Are you sure it was all like this?"
The Martian Manhunter extended his hand. "Batman, please... I understand the gravity of the situation. We exposed it to every variable of the situation we could. Perhaps there was something at the site itself which reacted with it?"
Batman nodded handing on of the tubes back to the other man. "Great idea. Test it for me." He turned his head away from J'onn, seemingly speaking into the air. "Yes? Go ahead."
Alfred Pennyworth's voice was calm and clear in Batman's ear. "Sir, there is a bit of a problem here."
"What is it?"
"Mister Kent seems to be recovering his strength..."
"How is that a problem?"
The sounds of chunks of metal clattering to the floor drowned out Alfred's voice for a moment. "Well, sir. The problem is that his... shall we say... mental clarity is not recovering at the same pace as his... well, unique gifts. The long and short of it, sir, is that if you do not return to the cave soon, there may be no cave to return to."
"I see." Batman turned back to the Martian Manhunter. "J'onn, I need to head back to ... I need to head back. Get me that information as soon as you can." I need to get back to him. He walked into the teleporter, muttering softly, "Please."
*****
Batman rolled into the cave, cradling the samples, scanning the room for signs of damage. "Clark? Clark? Can you hear me?"
A quiet voice came from the observation room. "Bruce? Oh, hi Bruce! I was just... uh..." The sound of some heavy metal object hitting the floor. "... uh... I'm not sure what I was just doing, actually. But the soup was great. Tell Alfred for me, 'kay? I think he left to go... um... somewhere."
Bruce scanned the room, finally finding his butler crouched behind the computer chair.
Alfred waved his hand toward the Batman. "Discretion, valor and all that."
Batman smiled and nodded. "Take these samples to the lab, Alfred. I need to run a few tests on them. Set up the full organic sequence and get me some coffee."
Alfred nodded and headed to the lab room.
Batman turned the corner and saw the quarantine area... or what was left of it. "Feeling better, Clark?"
Superman looked out at Bruce. "Yeah. I was just... hey, are there cookies? I was just thinking about my Ma..." Superman stumbled forward and rested his hand against the now-cracked window.
Batman ran forward, opening the door. "Clark?"
Superman was sweating and breathing unevenly. His words were slow, forced. "Sorry, Bruce. I thought I..." He slumped to the ground.
Batman lifted him on to what remained of his bed. "Clark? Clark? Alfred! I need you in here now. He's relapsed." No!
Alfred appeared behind Batman almost instantly.
"Alfred. Sorry. I need you to watch him. He seems to have passed out. If he shows signs of waking, call me." Please wake up, Clark.
"Understood, Master Bruce."
*****
As he prepped a few solutions, Batman called back to the Watchtower. "J'onn. What do you have?"
The voice of the Martian Manhunter echoed throughout the lab. "My test was negative. I exposed the sample to the air at the precise location you gave me. It stayed brown and showed no signs of luminescence."
"I see."
"There was something odd, however. A trace of spacial distortion. The readings were very similar to those left by Warp. But there have been no reports or sightings of him."
Batman nodded. "Can you trace the time the distortion happened?"
"Not precisely, but it would have been in the same time window as you meeting Superman on that rooftop. Within a few hours in either direction."
"I see. And what about the boxes?"
"I have had no report. I will patch you through to Mr. Terrific."
A soft clicking sound. Batman picked up one of the tubes, twirling it in his hand.
"Batman?"
"What can you tell me, Terrific?" Batman sat the tube down on his workbench and turned his attention to the metal box on the far side of the room.
"First, it is an amazing device. It acts as a kind of doorway to anywhere. If it has been activated using the left button in a location, the right button can be used from up to several thousand kilometers away and will create a passage back to the first location. Steel is still testing the range limits. The only drawback is that the user can only transit back to places he or she has already been."
Batman nodded. "So the mercenary was telling the truth. Second?"
"Second, it is damn near impossible to get into. We could crush it, but that would almost certainly destroy the circuitry. It may take years to get inside."
Batman picked up the device, staring at it. "No need now. We'll have time for that later. How many locations can be stored in the device?"
"As far as we can tell, four."
"All right, well, let-- " A clicking sound cut Batman off.
"Yes?"
The Martian Manhunter's voice was slightly agitated. "Batman, you're not going to like this. Prometheus just attacked the Watchtower."
Batman turned toward the door to the lab. "When and where is he?"
"He is already gone. He crashed a ship into the medical lab area, looked around, and then vanished."
"Dammit." Batman brought a gauntleted glove down on the workbench. His eyes followed the tube he had placed their earlier roll to the edge and tumble to the ground. It bounced once and then settled on the ground, a long crack marring its surface. As Batman picked it up, he noticed that the seaweed inside had slivers of an almost iridescent green running through it. He unstoppered the tube and the seaweed began to glow. Of course.
"Alfred!"
"You need me, sir?"
"Yes, come quickly." I have to know.
The butler's shoes clicked across the floor as he ran to the room. "Still no movement, sir, though his vital signs appear to be getting better."
Batman waved Alfred over and handed him another of the test tubes. "You need to open this after I seal myself in the K room."
"What?"
"Just do it." Batman moved to the back of the room and opened a heavy, leaden door. He passed through it and switched on his microphone. "Now."
"May I inquire as to the point of all this?"
"What happened to the seaweed?"
"It exuded a slightly pungent odor."
"Any change in color at all?"
"Not that I could notice."
Batman heaved open the door and heard Alfred inhale sharply.
"My heavens."
Batman looked at the glowing green seaweed in the open tube and shook his head slowly at his old friend. "No Alfred, not heaven. Just a bad metaphor being extended further."
A low moan filled the cave. Batman and Alfred exchanged quick glances. "Superman!"
Two sets of feet started running toward the quarantine room but one quickly lagged behind. "Go to him, Alfred. I ... can't." I won't hurt him further.
Bruce leaned back against the smooth, cold wall of the cave and listened.
"Mister Kent... are we feeling better?"
"Al...fred? Hurts... body hurts."
Bruce switched on the monitors in time to see Clark stumble and fall into the corner of his room. A sudden spasm of pain and his leg kicked a chair into the safety glass creating another spider's web of cracks. Alfred moved into frame.
"Please Mister Kent... try to focus and relax. You are doing better."
" Bruce... where?"
"Master Bruce is working very hard to find a cure. I'm sure he will be here as soon as--
A cry of pain and another spasm. Labored breathing. "Not safe here. Go."
"I can't just leave you, Mister Kent. Not like this."
Superman's form was very still. His breathing slowed. Carefully and deliberately, he rolled over, sweat beading across his forehead. A thin smile spread across his face. "See. Fine." Another slow, deep breath. "Go." Too dangerous. I am too dangerous.
Alfred moved forward and placed an arm under the Man of Steel's body. "Let me get you into bed."
Clark nodded and, with the other man's help, gingerly got up and into bed. As he sank into the pillow his body twitched slightly. Bruce could see Clark's hand tightly clenched around a clump of the bed sheet. He sighed and moved forward into sight of the room. "Alfred, you need to go. It isn't safe. I'll take care of things here." Keep fighting, Clark.
Alfred nodded slightly. "Do take care, Master Bruce."
Batman strode into what remained of the quarantine room, removing his gauntlets. He placed a hand on Clark's forehead. It was hot. "Clark? Can you hear me?"
A slight nod.
"Good." He took a long breath. "Because I need you to do something for me, okay?"
Superman's eyes were clamped shut, but he managed another nod. Anything. Anything I can.
"Here's the thing..." Batman chuckled lowly. "... the thing that is making you sick... it's in me." No surprise.
A low moan.
"No, no. Not me, exactly. I think I got exposed to something in that first fight. It was part of a binary toxin aimed at you. Aimed, in part, at keeping us separated. You understand?"
Another nod.
"Good. Now, the extra problem is that Prometheus is about to come here. My guess is in about two or three hours. He wanted to fight us that first night, but you got too sick too fast. So we were gone by the time he got there. He's been looking for us ever since. But he assumed I would take you to the Watchtower. He just went there. He's probably been to, or is on his way to, Star Labs. Soon he will try to use the Watchtower's teleporters to come here. We can't fight him like this. So I need you to rest and get better." Please get better.
Superman opened his eyes. Flashes of sapphire. Anything.
"Good. But, I need to you stay calm and force yourself to relax. When you start to get better, your powers come back before you can control them and you risk hurting yourself or others. Understand?"
A low voice answered yes.
"So, I want you to think of me, okay. I want you to know that I need you. I need you to be Superman, Clark. I need you to show me the strength and the soul that you show the rest of the world." Another low laugh. "Even if you need to think about proving me wrong, showing me that you deserve the respect everyone else gives openly... I need you to do this... I need you to save me." Whatever, whatever it takes.
Bruce Wayne grabbed a towel and wiped off Clark's brow. He leaned forward and kissed it. "I believe in you."
Batman stood up and headed for the door.
"Bruce?"
"Yes?"
"I won't forget."
*****
Prometheus slid into the batcave quietly. A smile spread across his face. He could see Superman's prone form lying in the midst of a ruined room. Batman, his back to the teleporter, was frantically running data on a giant computer. He walked silently across the room until he was standing over Superman. He cleared his throat.
Batman whirled. "Prometheus."
"In the flesh. Well, this battle was over before it started. I will permit you the honor of committing suicide if you wish."
Batman chuckled. "Well, Prometheus, you startle me. You managed to get one thing right."
"What?"
"This battle is over."
A flurry of activity surrounded the heavily armored man. His helmet vanished, followed by the gauntlets. "What? How can Superman be here when you are..."
A smile. Batman removed his cowl. "When I am Nightwing? Great question."
Prometheus frantically searched the cave. Out of the darkness a number of figures emerged.
Steel laughed. "Your systems were compromised from the moment you got here."
He grabbed at his chest.
Flash appeared, leaning casually against the computer. "Looking for this?" Something shaped roughly like a key spun lazily around his finger.
Prometheus smiled. "Well played, Batman, wherever you are." He reached down to the box at his side, only to have a hand block him. "What?"
Batman, wrapped in Superman's cape, rose to stand next to Prometheus. "Going somewhere?"
A wild swing was met with a precise blow to the chin. Prometheus crumpled to the floor.
Superman drifted lazily down toward the villain. Picking him up he floated up, slowly spiraling. "I am going to give you some advice, Prometheus. You probably won't listen, but I'm going to try anyway. You lose, because you are wrong. Never assume you dictate the terms of the fight to us. Any of us." He looked down at Batman. "And never assume you can divide us or keep us apart. Ever." He smiled. "Lantern?"
A young man's voice echoed through the cave. "Yes, Superman?"
He let go of Prometheus."Would you do me the favor of taking out the trash?"
*****
After two days of observation at Star Labs, Superman was given a clean bill of health. That evening, Clark Kent appeared on the steps to Wayne Manor bearing a package. He smiled broadly as Alfred answered the door.
"Hello, Mister Pennyworth. I just... uh... well. Anyway, my mother made this cobbler and I thought you should have it. You know... for all the trouble." Clark scratched the back of his head.
Alfred took the box and bowed slightly. "There is, of course, no need to apologize, Mister Kent. But it would be impolite and foolish of me to refuse a bit of your mother's cooking. Please extend to her my thanks."
Clark nodded. "Um. Is he in?"
Alfred extended his arm, inviting Clark inside. "Of course. I believe he is just finishing a shower. Master Bruce has become something of a cleanliness fanatic, lately."
Just then, Bruce Wayne emerged on the second floor, looking down into the living room. "Alfred, who was it?" He spotted Clark standing at the base of the stairs. "Clark! Good to see you." He froze gripping the banister. "You... you look well."
Clark smiled. "I um..." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box. "I brought you a small present. It's probably... well, maybe it's not such a good idea. I was trying to be funny. You know... maybe we should just forget it." He placed the box on a pedestal near the base of the stairs and turned to go. That went well. "Thanks, Alfred." As he walked through the door, he looked back to see Bruce, still gripping the banister.
After the door closed, Alfred looked up at Bruce. "Master Bruce, you may own this house, but I was left in charge of your upbringing. I see now that I've failed. When did you become so rude?"
Bruce Wayne was still gripping the railing. "Alfred, I can't. I can't risk hurting him again." I won't hurt him again.
"A little late for that, wouldn't you say." Alfred crossed the room and scooped up the box. "Fine, then. I shall send this back with a letter of apology... from me."
"Wait." Bruce's shoulders slumped. "Wait. You're right. Of course." He ran down the stairs and swung open the doors to find Clark standing there. "You..."
Clark pointed at his ear. Sorry, Bruce. I couldn't help myself.
Bruce pursed his lips. "Right. So, Kent, would you do me the pleasure of accompanying me for dinner?"
"Is Alfred cooking?"
"Of course."
Clark laughed and patted Bruce on the back. "Good... because I wouldn't want to risk food poisoning, or anything." Thank you for saving me.
Bruce looked forlornly at Alfred. "Isn't he supposed to be gracious or something? Shouldn't you lecture him?"
Alfred shrugged, handing Bruce the box. "Not my responsibility. You would have to take that up with Mrs. Kent, I'm afraid."
Clark leaned in, pointing at the contents. "They're cufflinks."
Bruce stared down at the box. "Where did you find biohazard symbol cufflinks?"
"Ebay."
Bruce stared levelly at Clark. "I... don't know whether to be touched or throw you out of the house." Thank you.
Clark grabbed Bruce by the shoulder. "Bruce, look. I remember it. All of it. Well, most of it anyway. I remember what you said. I'll keep that inside me forever. I'm just sort of hoping that we can... I dunno... if we can own up to ourselves... we can move past the warning signs."
"To?"
"Who knows. To the future!"
"How about dinner?"
"Sounds great. I'm famished."
*****
Alfred set the table quickly and both men sat down to eat. The room was bright and the conversation flowed smoothly. Bruce looked down at the cufflinks now adorning his shirt and laughed. "It killed me to realize I was hurting you."
Clark sat down his fork. "I know." He rested his head in his hands. "And it was killing me to be unable to help you." He stared down at his food. "This is nice."
Bruce smiled. "Of course it is. Alfred is the best."
Clark looked over the top of his glasses at Bruce.
"Right. Moving past the warning signs..." He raised his water glass toward Clark. "This is very nice."
As if on cue, Alfred brought in two glasses of dessert wine. The two men leaned in close and clinked their glasses together, wordlessly. To the future.
Pairing: Clark/Bruce
Rating: PG.
Disclaimer: The owners of the World's Finest did not endorse this story.
Warning: I wrote it. You need some other warning?
Word Count: 3442
A/N: This is for World's Finest Gift Exchange. Specifically F28: Hurt/Comfort. Without realizing it, Bruce has something (in his skin, in something he wears…) that makes Clark sick. With each encounter Clark gets worse but he doesn’t want to give up on being near Bruce. They have to figure out what’s going on and how to solve it.
A/N2: Each part of Persuasion is a different prompt. I hope they work together. Each story is intended to be somewhat self contained but also play a part in the larger arc. Ethos, Pathos, and Logos.
Batman leaned back against the glass and studied Superman's sleeping form. He looked down at his notes and turned on his recorder. "The subject is pale and shivering despite the high temperature in the room. Seems to be non-responsive to the yellow light or full spectrum light he has been exposed to." He looked at a still full bowl of chicken noodle soup sitting next to Clark's bed. "Lack of appetite. Extreme weakness. All scans, however, have proved uninstructive. End report." Clark, what's wrong with you? Help me.
Batman turned suddenly and strode to his computer. He pressed a few buttons and the screen flickered to life. "J'onn? Any progress?"
The figure of the Martian Manhunter appeared on the monitor. "Batman... No. I am sorry. The results continue to be the same."
Batman stared at this hands, unmoving. "Fine. I'm coming up." I need to be sure.
J'onn looked over at someone outside of camera range. "I'm not sure that is a good idea, Batman."
"I'm well aware of the quarantine protocols, J'onn. I wrote them myself, as you'll recall. But this disease, or whatever it is, does not appear to be contagious. I'm in there with Clark practically all the time. Alfred willingly exposed himself and is also unaffected. And I need to get access to the samples you have there. If Kara or Karen are on the Watchtower, I suggest you remove them. Immediately. I will be on site in 5 minutes. Batman out." He switched off the monitor. I will do what I have to...
After gathering up a few vials into a sample bag, he walked back to the window. "Clark? If you can hear me, I'm going to the Watchtower to run some more tests. I'll be right back, okay?" Clark didn't move. "Okay. Hang in there, Clark." Hang in there.
*****
Batman stepped out of the teleporter and into the Watchtower. "J'onn."
"Batman, I just--"
"Here." Batman tossed the Martian Manhunter a bag. "That's one of the boxes and a piece of Prometheus' armor. Call in Irons or Holt or, hell, Magnus if you have to. Come back to me with answers, preferably within 24 hours."
J'onn stared down at the bag. "Yes, of course, but..."
"He's dying, J'onn. Let's discuss the niceties later."
J'onn Jones slid in front of the Batman. "I merely wanted to tell you that I have secured a hallway and a lab room for you. We should try to maintain quarantine protocols as much as possible."
Batman pursed his lips. "Thank you, J'onn. Please show me the way."
*****
The Martian Manhunter handed Batman a container full of sealed glass tubes. "These are all the remaining samples. As you can see, we took the added precaution of placing them in the shielded tubes."
Batman reached into the container and extracted one tube. "Why is it brown?"
"I'm sorry?"
"The color, J'onn. Why is this sample brown?"
The Martian Manhunter leaned in toward the sample, regarding it. "That is the color they were when we found them."
"All of them?"
J'onn nodded. "Yes. Why?"
Batman frowned. "Because the bits that I saw were light green. It was, or seemed to be bioluminescent. Unfortunately, I didn't have time to collect samples... Are you sure it was all like this?"
The Martian Manhunter extended his hand. "Batman, please... I understand the gravity of the situation. We exposed it to every variable of the situation we could. Perhaps there was something at the site itself which reacted with it?"
Batman nodded handing on of the tubes back to the other man. "Great idea. Test it for me." He turned his head away from J'onn, seemingly speaking into the air. "Yes? Go ahead."
Alfred Pennyworth's voice was calm and clear in Batman's ear. "Sir, there is a bit of a problem here."
"What is it?"
"Mister Kent seems to be recovering his strength..."
"How is that a problem?"
The sounds of chunks of metal clattering to the floor drowned out Alfred's voice for a moment. "Well, sir. The problem is that his... shall we say... mental clarity is not recovering at the same pace as his... well, unique gifts. The long and short of it, sir, is that if you do not return to the cave soon, there may be no cave to return to."
"I see." Batman turned back to the Martian Manhunter. "J'onn, I need to head back to ... I need to head back. Get me that information as soon as you can." I need to get back to him. He walked into the teleporter, muttering softly, "Please."
*****
Batman rolled into the cave, cradling the samples, scanning the room for signs of damage. "Clark? Clark? Can you hear me?"
A quiet voice came from the observation room. "Bruce? Oh, hi Bruce! I was just... uh..." The sound of some heavy metal object hitting the floor. "... uh... I'm not sure what I was just doing, actually. But the soup was great. Tell Alfred for me, 'kay? I think he left to go... um... somewhere."
Bruce scanned the room, finally finding his butler crouched behind the computer chair.
Alfred waved his hand toward the Batman. "Discretion, valor and all that."
Batman smiled and nodded. "Take these samples to the lab, Alfred. I need to run a few tests on them. Set up the full organic sequence and get me some coffee."
Alfred nodded and headed to the lab room.
Batman turned the corner and saw the quarantine area... or what was left of it. "Feeling better, Clark?"
Superman looked out at Bruce. "Yeah. I was just... hey, are there cookies? I was just thinking about my Ma..." Superman stumbled forward and rested his hand against the now-cracked window.
Batman ran forward, opening the door. "Clark?"
Superman was sweating and breathing unevenly. His words were slow, forced. "Sorry, Bruce. I thought I..." He slumped to the ground.
Batman lifted him on to what remained of his bed. "Clark? Clark? Alfred! I need you in here now. He's relapsed." No!
Alfred appeared behind Batman almost instantly.
"Alfred. Sorry. I need you to watch him. He seems to have passed out. If he shows signs of waking, call me." Please wake up, Clark.
"Understood, Master Bruce."
*****
As he prepped a few solutions, Batman called back to the Watchtower. "J'onn. What do you have?"
The voice of the Martian Manhunter echoed throughout the lab. "My test was negative. I exposed the sample to the air at the precise location you gave me. It stayed brown and showed no signs of luminescence."
"I see."
"There was something odd, however. A trace of spacial distortion. The readings were very similar to those left by Warp. But there have been no reports or sightings of him."
Batman nodded. "Can you trace the time the distortion happened?"
"Not precisely, but it would have been in the same time window as you meeting Superman on that rooftop. Within a few hours in either direction."
"I see. And what about the boxes?"
"I have had no report. I will patch you through to Mr. Terrific."
A soft clicking sound. Batman picked up one of the tubes, twirling it in his hand.
"Batman?"
"What can you tell me, Terrific?" Batman sat the tube down on his workbench and turned his attention to the metal box on the far side of the room.
"First, it is an amazing device. It acts as a kind of doorway to anywhere. If it has been activated using the left button in a location, the right button can be used from up to several thousand kilometers away and will create a passage back to the first location. Steel is still testing the range limits. The only drawback is that the user can only transit back to places he or she has already been."
Batman nodded. "So the mercenary was telling the truth. Second?"
"Second, it is damn near impossible to get into. We could crush it, but that would almost certainly destroy the circuitry. It may take years to get inside."
Batman picked up the device, staring at it. "No need now. We'll have time for that later. How many locations can be stored in the device?"
"As far as we can tell, four."
"All right, well, let-- " A clicking sound cut Batman off.
"Yes?"
The Martian Manhunter's voice was slightly agitated. "Batman, you're not going to like this. Prometheus just attacked the Watchtower."
Batman turned toward the door to the lab. "When and where is he?"
"He is already gone. He crashed a ship into the medical lab area, looked around, and then vanished."
"Dammit." Batman brought a gauntleted glove down on the workbench. His eyes followed the tube he had placed their earlier roll to the edge and tumble to the ground. It bounced once and then settled on the ground, a long crack marring its surface. As Batman picked it up, he noticed that the seaweed inside had slivers of an almost iridescent green running through it. He unstoppered the tube and the seaweed began to glow. Of course.
"Alfred!"
"You need me, sir?"
"Yes, come quickly." I have to know.
The butler's shoes clicked across the floor as he ran to the room. "Still no movement, sir, though his vital signs appear to be getting better."
Batman waved Alfred over and handed him another of the test tubes. "You need to open this after I seal myself in the K room."
"What?"
"Just do it." Batman moved to the back of the room and opened a heavy, leaden door. He passed through it and switched on his microphone. "Now."
"May I inquire as to the point of all this?"
"What happened to the seaweed?"
"It exuded a slightly pungent odor."
"Any change in color at all?"
"Not that I could notice."
Batman heaved open the door and heard Alfred inhale sharply.
"My heavens."
Batman looked at the glowing green seaweed in the open tube and shook his head slowly at his old friend. "No Alfred, not heaven. Just a bad metaphor being extended further."
A low moan filled the cave. Batman and Alfred exchanged quick glances. "Superman!"
Two sets of feet started running toward the quarantine room but one quickly lagged behind. "Go to him, Alfred. I ... can't." I won't hurt him further.
Bruce leaned back against the smooth, cold wall of the cave and listened.
"Mister Kent... are we feeling better?"
"Al...fred? Hurts... body hurts."
Bruce switched on the monitors in time to see Clark stumble and fall into the corner of his room. A sudden spasm of pain and his leg kicked a chair into the safety glass creating another spider's web of cracks. Alfred moved into frame.
"Please Mister Kent... try to focus and relax. You are doing better."
" Bruce... where?"
"Master Bruce is working very hard to find a cure. I'm sure he will be here as soon as--
A cry of pain and another spasm. Labored breathing. "Not safe here. Go."
"I can't just leave you, Mister Kent. Not like this."
Superman's form was very still. His breathing slowed. Carefully and deliberately, he rolled over, sweat beading across his forehead. A thin smile spread across his face. "See. Fine." Another slow, deep breath. "Go." Too dangerous. I am too dangerous.
Alfred moved forward and placed an arm under the Man of Steel's body. "Let me get you into bed."
Clark nodded and, with the other man's help, gingerly got up and into bed. As he sank into the pillow his body twitched slightly. Bruce could see Clark's hand tightly clenched around a clump of the bed sheet. He sighed and moved forward into sight of the room. "Alfred, you need to go. It isn't safe. I'll take care of things here." Keep fighting, Clark.
Alfred nodded slightly. "Do take care, Master Bruce."
Batman strode into what remained of the quarantine room, removing his gauntlets. He placed a hand on Clark's forehead. It was hot. "Clark? Can you hear me?"
A slight nod.
"Good." He took a long breath. "Because I need you to do something for me, okay?"
Superman's eyes were clamped shut, but he managed another nod. Anything. Anything I can.
"Here's the thing..." Batman chuckled lowly. "... the thing that is making you sick... it's in me." No surprise.
A low moan.
"No, no. Not me, exactly. I think I got exposed to something in that first fight. It was part of a binary toxin aimed at you. Aimed, in part, at keeping us separated. You understand?"
Another nod.
"Good. Now, the extra problem is that Prometheus is about to come here. My guess is in about two or three hours. He wanted to fight us that first night, but you got too sick too fast. So we were gone by the time he got there. He's been looking for us ever since. But he assumed I would take you to the Watchtower. He just went there. He's probably been to, or is on his way to, Star Labs. Soon he will try to use the Watchtower's teleporters to come here. We can't fight him like this. So I need you to rest and get better." Please get better.
Superman opened his eyes. Flashes of sapphire. Anything.
"Good. But, I need to you stay calm and force yourself to relax. When you start to get better, your powers come back before you can control them and you risk hurting yourself or others. Understand?"
A low voice answered yes.
"So, I want you to think of me, okay. I want you to know that I need you. I need you to be Superman, Clark. I need you to show me the strength and the soul that you show the rest of the world." Another low laugh. "Even if you need to think about proving me wrong, showing me that you deserve the respect everyone else gives openly... I need you to do this... I need you to save me." Whatever, whatever it takes.
Bruce Wayne grabbed a towel and wiped off Clark's brow. He leaned forward and kissed it. "I believe in you."
Batman stood up and headed for the door.
"Bruce?"
"Yes?"
"I won't forget."
*****
Prometheus slid into the batcave quietly. A smile spread across his face. He could see Superman's prone form lying in the midst of a ruined room. Batman, his back to the teleporter, was frantically running data on a giant computer. He walked silently across the room until he was standing over Superman. He cleared his throat.
Batman whirled. "Prometheus."
"In the flesh. Well, this battle was over before it started. I will permit you the honor of committing suicide if you wish."
Batman chuckled. "Well, Prometheus, you startle me. You managed to get one thing right."
"What?"
"This battle is over."
A flurry of activity surrounded the heavily armored man. His helmet vanished, followed by the gauntlets. "What? How can Superman be here when you are..."
A smile. Batman removed his cowl. "When I am Nightwing? Great question."
Prometheus frantically searched the cave. Out of the darkness a number of figures emerged.
Steel laughed. "Your systems were compromised from the moment you got here."
He grabbed at his chest.
Flash appeared, leaning casually against the computer. "Looking for this?" Something shaped roughly like a key spun lazily around his finger.
Prometheus smiled. "Well played, Batman, wherever you are." He reached down to the box at his side, only to have a hand block him. "What?"
Batman, wrapped in Superman's cape, rose to stand next to Prometheus. "Going somewhere?"
A wild swing was met with a precise blow to the chin. Prometheus crumpled to the floor.
Superman drifted lazily down toward the villain. Picking him up he floated up, slowly spiraling. "I am going to give you some advice, Prometheus. You probably won't listen, but I'm going to try anyway. You lose, because you are wrong. Never assume you dictate the terms of the fight to us. Any of us." He looked down at Batman. "And never assume you can divide us or keep us apart. Ever." He smiled. "Lantern?"
A young man's voice echoed through the cave. "Yes, Superman?"
He let go of Prometheus."Would you do me the favor of taking out the trash?"
*****
After two days of observation at Star Labs, Superman was given a clean bill of health. That evening, Clark Kent appeared on the steps to Wayne Manor bearing a package. He smiled broadly as Alfred answered the door.
"Hello, Mister Pennyworth. I just... uh... well. Anyway, my mother made this cobbler and I thought you should have it. You know... for all the trouble." Clark scratched the back of his head.
Alfred took the box and bowed slightly. "There is, of course, no need to apologize, Mister Kent. But it would be impolite and foolish of me to refuse a bit of your mother's cooking. Please extend to her my thanks."
Clark nodded. "Um. Is he in?"
Alfred extended his arm, inviting Clark inside. "Of course. I believe he is just finishing a shower. Master Bruce has become something of a cleanliness fanatic, lately."
Just then, Bruce Wayne emerged on the second floor, looking down into the living room. "Alfred, who was it?" He spotted Clark standing at the base of the stairs. "Clark! Good to see you." He froze gripping the banister. "You... you look well."
Clark smiled. "I um..." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box. "I brought you a small present. It's probably... well, maybe it's not such a good idea. I was trying to be funny. You know... maybe we should just forget it." He placed the box on a pedestal near the base of the stairs and turned to go. That went well. "Thanks, Alfred." As he walked through the door, he looked back to see Bruce, still gripping the banister.
After the door closed, Alfred looked up at Bruce. "Master Bruce, you may own this house, but I was left in charge of your upbringing. I see now that I've failed. When did you become so rude?"
Bruce Wayne was still gripping the railing. "Alfred, I can't. I can't risk hurting him again." I won't hurt him again.
"A little late for that, wouldn't you say." Alfred crossed the room and scooped up the box. "Fine, then. I shall send this back with a letter of apology... from me."
"Wait." Bruce's shoulders slumped. "Wait. You're right. Of course." He ran down the stairs and swung open the doors to find Clark standing there. "You..."
Clark pointed at his ear. Sorry, Bruce. I couldn't help myself.
Bruce pursed his lips. "Right. So, Kent, would you do me the pleasure of accompanying me for dinner?"
"Is Alfred cooking?"
"Of course."
Clark laughed and patted Bruce on the back. "Good... because I wouldn't want to risk food poisoning, or anything." Thank you for saving me.
Bruce looked forlornly at Alfred. "Isn't he supposed to be gracious or something? Shouldn't you lecture him?"
Alfred shrugged, handing Bruce the box. "Not my responsibility. You would have to take that up with Mrs. Kent, I'm afraid."
Clark leaned in, pointing at the contents. "They're cufflinks."
Bruce stared down at the box. "Where did you find biohazard symbol cufflinks?"
"Ebay."
Bruce stared levelly at Clark. "I... don't know whether to be touched or throw you out of the house." Thank you.
Clark grabbed Bruce by the shoulder. "Bruce, look. I remember it. All of it. Well, most of it anyway. I remember what you said. I'll keep that inside me forever. I'm just sort of hoping that we can... I dunno... if we can own up to ourselves... we can move past the warning signs."
"To?"
"Who knows. To the future!"
"How about dinner?"
"Sounds great. I'm famished."
*****
Alfred set the table quickly and both men sat down to eat. The room was bright and the conversation flowed smoothly. Bruce looked down at the cufflinks now adorning his shirt and laughed. "It killed me to realize I was hurting you."
Clark sat down his fork. "I know." He rested his head in his hands. "And it was killing me to be unable to help you." He stared down at his food. "This is nice."
Bruce smiled. "Of course it is. Alfred is the best."
Clark looked over the top of his glasses at Bruce.
"Right. Moving past the warning signs..." He raised his water glass toward Clark. "This is very nice."
As if on cue, Alfred brought in two glasses of dessert wine. The two men leaned in close and clinked their glasses together, wordlessly. To the future.