Fic: Monster in the Dark
Title: Monster in the Dark
Characters/Pairings: Clark Kent, Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson
Rating: Resolutely G. Pre-slash.
Summary: Clark is de-aged to eight years old and Bruce must deal with a super-powered child. Takes place in toonverse continuity, in which Clark didn't learn of his alien heritage until his powers manifested in his late teens.
Word count: 3700
Useless as the wish might be, Clark Kent couldn't help but hope Bruce wouldn't find out about this little trip to Gotham. It wasn't as Superman, surely that counted for something? Clark had no desire to have to deal with Batman being prickly and irascible over yet another perceived encroachment on his territory.
It wasn't Clark's fault there was a conference in Batman's city, he thought irritably as he jotted notes. He didn't owe the man a courtesy call every time he crossed city limits, after all.
Clark sighed and stared at his notes unseeing. Of course, Bruce almost certainly knew he was here.
The pencil tip snapped.
Clark signed and reached for his briefcase to find another, but the sound of the door being kicked down distracted him. The gathered reporters gasped and shrieked as armed gunmen surrounded them. Their leader--a short, squat, and sweaty man Clark had never seen before--was announcing that this act was in retaliation for all the betrayals of the press over the years, they would be held until their newspapers apologized...Clark cased the exits and debated how best to go about salvaging the situation, listening to the leader with a fraction of his attention.
"...case you were thinking about some kind of escape, we brought along some safeguards." The leader gestured to a slender man among the thugs, who made a few sharp gestures with his hands.
Clark felt the familiar nauseating ripple of magic along his nerve endings. He barely had time to be annoyed before everything went dark.
: : :
Batman and Robin were crouched in a duct, casing the situation. The hall was full of thugs. The door to the room where the hostages had been taken was at the end of the hall. Batman calculated the odds, assessing the weaponry. As long as no one panicked the gang into sudden action, they should be able to--
Harvey Bullock's voice blared over a megaphone and the sharp crack of gunfire echoed down the hall. The police had apparently tired of the standoff and decided to take the direct approach. The terrorists in the hall snapped to alertness. A few of them headed toward the room with the hostages.
"So much for stealth," Robin said tersely as they kicked open the grill and waded into the melee, making their way toward the door hiding the hostages.
There were screams--high-pitched, terrified screams, children's screams--in the next room, and Batman heard Robin curse as they burst through the doors into the main conference room.
The room was full of terrified, milling children. Part of Batman's mind noticed that they were dressed very oddly, in miniature versions of business suits, like tiny adults.
"Batman!" cried an angry voice, and he and Robin swung to meet the sight of the gang leader holding a gun to the temple of one of the children. "Don't move or I'll shoot! I swear it!"
The child's bright blue eyes were full of tears, his lower lip trembling as he struggled to keep his composure.
Clark Kent's eyes stared, unrecognizing, at Batman from the face of a young boy.
Robin gasped and Bruce knew he recognized the boy as well. "I'll do it!" the man warned again, and the young Clark squeezed his eyes shut, obviously petrified. Did he still have his powers? Did he even know about his powers?
As Batman and Robin stood frozen, there was the sound of feet running down the hall, and sharp official voices. The hostage-taker's eyes turned desperate, and his finger tightened on the trigger convulsively.
The report of the gun sounded through the room.
Clark screamed in panic and pushed the man away from him; the villain's body smashed against the wall behind him. There was a faint ting as the crumpled bullet fell to the floor, mingling with the leader's groans. The small boy was unharmed.
Bruce's heart started beating again.
A scrabble of motion from the hall, and Harvey Bullock's voice boomed threats and demands through the room.
"We can't let--" Robin started, but Batman was already grabbing the boy with Clark's eyes and launching a grapple through the skylight. Clark screamed again as they burst through the glass; Bruce instinctively shielded the boy from flying fragments.
Then they were on the roof, and above the city, soaring from building to building, Clark's voice spiraling into near-hysteria as the city whirled below them. "Let go of me! Let me go! No!"
There was a stab of pain in his hand and ruby light lanced by his face; Clark gasped sharply and went limp in Bruce's arms.
Batman landed next to the Batmobile, Robin alighting shortly after. "What do you think happened?" Dick asked as Bruce gently lowered the child into the back seat.
"Magic."
"Yeah, I'd guessed that much, thanks."
"Regressed the hostages to make them less of a threat," Batman clarified as he started the car. "Clark got caught up in it."
"But he didn't have powers as a little kid. I didn't think he got them until he was almost seventeen."
Batman grunted. "Because he had to be exposed to solar radiation for that long. His body's younger now, but it's still gotten decades of exposure. So he's got powers."
"How old do you think he is?"
Trees dopplered by. "About eight, I'd guess," said Bruce.
Dick glanced into the back seat. Clark had curled up into a fetal position, eyes tightly closed, shivering.
: : :
Bruce pulled the glove off, wincing, and took the anti-burn salve from Dick. He was lucky; it had been a glancing blow. The burn was still deep and raw though, blistered and ugly.
Dick glanced back at the Batmobile where Clark was still curled up. "I'll go tell Alfred we have a guest, get him up to speed. Maybe get a snack together."
Bruce grunted and Dick went up the stairs, casting a worried look back as he went.
Bruce placed calls to the main JLA magic-users, but none were responding. Apparently a busy night for the magic contingent. The police channels were busy with chatter about Batman kidnapping one of the hostages. The Gotham police--not surprisingly--had been no more successful at finding someone to reverse the spell.
From the direction of the car, Bruce heard a small throat being cleared. He turned to see Clark standing next to it, looking odd and owlish in child-sized pinstripes and horn-rimmed glasses, his hair sticking up all over. "Where am I?" the boy whispered.
"You don't recognize this place?"
The boy's eyes cast around the cave. "Recognize?" The small voice was incredulous. "I need to get back to Smallville! My Ma and Pa--they'll be so worried! Please, sir--" Clark dragged a badly-tailored sleeve across his nose to hide a sniffle, "--please, at least let me call them."
"Don't you know me?" The boy shook his head mutely, fear sparking in his eyes. The fear, and the young-yet-familiar voice calling him "sir," made Bruce uncomfortable. "You're not really a child," he said brusquely. Clark wouldn't want to be coddled, he told himself. "You're Clark Kent, and you're an adult who's been turned back into a child by magic." Clark's eyes were large and incredulous. "You work with me."
"Work with..." Clark shook his head again, staring at the cowl, the armor. "I don't understand, sir."
"You fight evildoers, you're a superhero," Batman said. A young Clark Kent would surely get a thrill from that. "And you're not human, you're an alien. Your parents hadn't told you that yet, but really you're from outer space."
"An...alien?" Clark looked at his hands. "I felt that bullet--hit me. It bounced off. And my eyes..." His voice trailed off as he looked at Batman's burnt hand and his own hands began to shake slightly.
Batman was still looking up at the picture on the monitor. "Yes, you have a large array of superpowers." He tapped at the computer to call up a picture of Superman, bullets bouncing off his chest, villains scattering before him. "Invulnerability is one of them."
"That's...me...?" Clark's voice was faint.
Batman nodded. "You also have super-strength--" He called up an image of Superman ripping an armored getaway truck in two as thugs scrambled to escape. "Cold breath--" This picture was of Superman encasing a building in ice, "And heat vision." The image was of Superman battling Lex Luthor in his battle suit; pedestrians fleeing before the two titans, debris flying everywhere. "It's due to solar energy, you see. You didn't have powers at this age because you--"
A choked sound behind him cut him off; he swung around to see Clark staring at the monitor, face twisted in anguish. "Clark?" Batman reached out without thinking with his burned hand.
The boy stumbled backwards, staring at the blisters. "Don't touch me!" he gasped. "No!" Clark whirled and fled into the shadows of the cave. "Leave me alone!" he screamed from the darkness as Batman tried to approach him, then began sobbing in earnest.
Bruce hesitated for a moment, then turned and went back to the computer chair. His back was stiff as if the wailing sobs in the shadows were blows raining down on him, but he didn't approach the child.
: : :
"What the hell?" Dick dropped his platter of cookies on the counter with a clatter and rushed toward the corner of the cave where Clark was still huddled, weeping as if his heart were broken. Clark curled into a tight ball, clamping his hands over his eyes and shrieking as Dick gathered him into his arms. "Bruce, what the hell are you doing?" Dick snarled.
Batman didn't turn from the console. "I told him about his powers. I thought he would find them interesting."
The boy's voice echoed from the corner, hoarse with sobs. "Interesting? I'm a monster from outer space that ki--kills with his eyes!"
"You don't kill people," Dick said soothingly. "You're one of the good guys. You're Superman." Clark didn't seem to hear him, breaking down into freshly hysterical sobs. Dick patted him on the shoulder, then made his way over to the computer where Bruce was still staring at the screen. With a savagely swift kick, he pivoted the chair and Bruce to face him, clamping his hands to the computer arms on either side of the vigilante. "Bruce Wayne," Dick hissed, "You get over there and comfort him."
"He's not a child," Bruce said stubbornly. "He's Kal-El. He's Superman. He wouldn't want me to--"
"--He is a terrified, heartbroken eight-year-old," Dick snarled. Bruce's jaw tensed slightly and Dick rocked back as if the other man had yelled something, his eyes narrowing in realization. "You can't deal with that, can you? Seeing the Man of Steel like this, seeing him as frightened and alone as you were." Dick removed his hands very carefully from the chair, then placed them lightly on Batman's shoulders. "I'm going back upstairs to get Alfred, and in the meantime you're going to find it in yourself to be there for Clark. Because I know you have it in you to console a frightened boy, Bruce. Even if you don't seem to remember it." He walked up the stairs and was gone.
After a long moment, Batman's shoulders slumped and he rose from the chair and walked very cautiously toward the dark corner where Clark still sat. The boy's breath hitched painfully a few times as Batman drew closer and he halted, holding out his uninjured hand uselessly into the space between them. "You're...not a monster," he said.
"Everyone will be afraid of me. I saw it. In those pictures." The voice was too high, teetering dangerously close to tears again.
"That's not true. Dick--my partner--he's not afraid of you. You could tell, couldn't you?" Batman waved his hand vaguely in the air. "And me. I'm not afraid of you."
There was a gleam of sharp blue eyes as Clark scooted forward just a little. "Really? Even after..." His eyes flicked toward Batman's burned hand.
"You were...startled. Some crazy guy in a black costume just snatched you up and broke through a window with you. It was a natural reaction."
A laugh that had a sob inside it. "Natural. I'm not natural."
Batman crouched down to be closer to eye level with the sapphire gleam in the shadows. "Perfectly natural Kryptonian reaction. You're not just some alien from a horror movie, Clark. You're from the planet Krypton. It's a beautiful place, with a long and noble history." Now did not seem to be the time to mention that--besides Clark--history was almost all that was left of Krypton. ”There's nothing frightening about it. Or about you."
There was a long, snuffling silence, broken by a tiny voice. "Promise?"
"Cross my heart," said Bruce, doing so and feeling ridiculous. He waited, listening to the boy collect his breath, wanting to return to his work and not face the child's anguish, forcing himself to stay.
Clark's next words managed to surprise him. "You have...bats here? I can hear them."
"I'm Batman. Of course I have bats."
The boy stepped out of the shadows, his face abstracted and turned to the ceiling. "What kind are they?" Even as Bruce lurched from his crouch to catch him, he stumbled and walked over the edge.
He squeaked in alarm, his arms pinwheeling, but didn't fall. His eyes grew larger and larger, staring at Batman, as he lifted upward. "I can fly!" he said in astonishment. "Hey, look!"
"Watch out for the--" Bruce didn't get a chance to finish the sentence as Clark banged gently into the ceiling and a massive cloud of bats swarmed free, engulfing the boy in a frenzy of wings. Bruce flinched, waiting for the outburst, but when it came, it wasn't what he expected.
Clark was laughing.
The swarm dissipated enough that Bruce could make out Clark's pale face, his eyes shining. "This place is awesome!"
Bruce found himself oddly disgruntled. "Most people find bats...intimidating," he said.
"Are you kidding?" Clark's delight was palpable. Bats flittered around him like spirits. "I love bats! I'm going to be a chiroptologist when I grow up!" He put out a hand as the bats fluttered by, feeling the air currents in their wake. "A chiroptologist is a person who studies bats," he explained gravely.
"I know what a chiroptologist is," Bruce noted, feeling rather off-balance.
Clark's smile was framed by dark wings and blurred motion. "A bat can eat more than a thousand insects in an hour! And they can live up to thirty years!" The boy started to slide downward toward where Batman was standing. "The smallest bat in the world is the bumblebee bat of--"
"--Thailand. Yes, I know."
Clark seemed entirely undaunted by Bruce's tone, dropping to be nearly face-to-face with the other man. "Its real name is Kitti's Hog-nosed Bat," he announced happily. "And check out its Latin name: Craseonycteris thonglongyai. Is that not the most awesome name ever? Hey, are those chocolate-chip cookies?" The boy swooped over to grab one from the plate Dick had left and started to nibble on it, still hovering. "So..." he said, the smile fading somewhat, "I guess I'm not a chiroptologist then, huh?"
"I'm...afraid not. You're a reporter when you're out of costume."
The hovering boy made a face. "I suppose that's okay." He stared down at the half-eaten cookie and asked very quietly, "Do I have any friends?"
Batman grunted in a way that he hoped didn't sound too non-committal and walked to the computer. "Here." A few buttons and a picture sprang to life: Clark laughing at his desk with a red-haired young man. "That's a friend of yours. Jimmy."
Clark crossed his legs in the air. "I look kind of like a dweeb," he noted. He seemed perversely pleased by that.
Another picture of Clark at a restaurant with a red-headed woman. "Is that Lana?" Clark said. "Wow, she grew up...kind of pretty. I don't like her or anything," he explained hastily. "She's just a girl in my class."
Clark with a notebook at a crime scene next to a striking brunette. "Lois Lane, a co-worker. She's...kind of a friend of yours too."
He seemed to have a surprisingly large number of pictures of Clark Kent, Batman noted as he went through his files. He flicked a few of them on the screen in quick succession: Clark watching television with Diana, Clark playing a video game with Wally--
"--Who's that guy?" Clark asked as an image went by: Clark grinning wryly and sitting next to a scowling, dark-haired man in a business suit, his arms crossed. "He doesn't seem to like me very much," he said, laughing at the man's saturnine expression.
"He likes you just fine," Batman snapped. "He's just not the gushy sort. Not everyone has to drape themselves all over you to prove they're friends."
Footsteps on the stairs signaled the welcome return of Robin, Alfred trailing behind him. "We brought some milk this time," said Robin cautiously, a smile lighting his face as he saw Clark untearful and eating cookies.
"Thank you," said Clark politely, taking a glass and sipping it. "I was admiring your bats. They're very nice. I want to be a chiroptologist when I grow--well, I guess I wanted to," he amended, looking at the image of himself on the screen. "A chiroptologist is a person who studies bats," he informed Alfred and Robin, with the air of a boy used to having adults stare at him as if he were crazy.
"Well," said Robin with a small smile, "I suppose it's never too late."
Batman made an annoyed sound, but the conversation was cut off by a window opening on the massive screen. Zatanna's face stared out of it. "Batman? Did you need my help with something?"
"We have an eight-year-old Clark Kent here. Magic. Anything you can do to help?"
A impish smile. "You've come to the right place! Ot eht evactab!" Her form on the screen vanished and the magician appeared in the cave.
"Whoa!" Clark moved back a little, floating to the ground to stand normally.
Zatanna smiled reassuringly at him and winked. "Just a little magic," she whispered. She traced a few motions in the air in front of his face, leaving smears of glowing motion in her hands' wake. "Oh yeah," she said brassily, "This is strictly amateur magic. I can get this fixed in a jiffy." She took a breath and raised her hands.
"Wait!" Clark's young voice halted her. He looked slightly panicked. "Is this going to--to hurt?"
"Don't worry, Clark, you won't feel a thing."
"I--maybe we should just wait a little longer. Let you prepare."
Zatanna frowned. "I'm ready to go, Big--uh, Little Blue. This is a very simple spell, no fuss and no muss."
"I--I--" Clark broke off and stared in mute appeal at Batman before managing, "I don't know if I want to. Can't I...stay like this? Learn...not to use these powers? Be a normal kid? I don't--" his lower lip trembled very slightly. "I really don't want people to be afraid of me."
Batman crouched to be at eye level with the boy again and put a hand on his shoulder. "I'll never be afraid of you, Clark. I promise. Cross my heart."
To his surprise, Clark threw himself into his arms, burying his face against the black shoulder. The boy took a couple of shaky breaths and Batman could feel his shoulders trembling. "Okay," Clark whispered finally, not looking up. "Then I'm ready."
Bruce looked over the boy's head to Zatanna, who was looking bemused, and nodded. She shrugged and said, "Eb tluda ecno erom!"
Bruce found himself abruptly with an armful of full-sized Clark and stood up hastily. Clark stayed still for just a second, his face still tight against Batman's shoulder. Then he stepped back and dragged a sleeve across his face briskly, clearing his throat. "Well. I'm just glad I don't have to go through puberty again," he said cheerfully to everyone. "Once was more than enough."
Laughter broke the uncertain silence and Zatanna turned to Batman. "I'd better get to the police station to help out with the other hostages," she said. A phrase later and she was gone.
Dick clapped Clark on the shoulder. "Good to have you back. Will you stay for dinner?" At Clark's surprised nod, Dick said, "I'll go change and meet you upstairs in a bit, then."
Clark grinned. "Thanks for the invite. And thanks for the cookies, Alfred. They were great." The butler nodded gravely and headed up the stairs.
"You remember it all?" Batman, watching the other two leave.
"Yes," Clark said, his tone clipped. "I'm...sorry about your hand," he added. Batman grunted dismissively.
Clark walked to the edge of one of the crevasses and looked up at the bats winging their way through the cavern. "Those are silver-tipped myotis, aren't they? Myotis albescens."
Batman moved to stand next to him, staring up with him. "You never told me you knew so much about bats."
Clark's grin was wry. "We had some that nested in the eaves of our barn. I used to watch them every night, the way they cut lines against the dusk." He traced a flowing, graceful line with his hand through the darkness. "I planned to go into zoology until--well, until my powers manifested. I thought it would be tough to fight crime while crawling around in caves with bats." He chuckled. "Obviously I stand corrected." He looked back up at the ceiling again. "But I really adored bats." He shrugged slightly. "Maybe that's why I was never quite as scared of you as other people."
Batman crossed his arms and glared up at the ceiling, the bats swooping unerringly through the dark. "Well," he said gruffly, "I'm not afraid of you, either." He turned and pointed at Clark. "You get a pass this time because you were just a kid and didn't know any better," he said. "But no more coming in to my city without letting me know first."
"I know, I know! And...thank you," said the amateur chiroptologist.
Characters/Pairings: Clark Kent, Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson
Rating: Resolutely G. Pre-slash.
Summary: Clark is de-aged to eight years old and Bruce must deal with a super-powered child. Takes place in toonverse continuity, in which Clark didn't learn of his alien heritage until his powers manifested in his late teens.
Word count: 3700
Useless as the wish might be, Clark Kent couldn't help but hope Bruce wouldn't find out about this little trip to Gotham. It wasn't as Superman, surely that counted for something? Clark had no desire to have to deal with Batman being prickly and irascible over yet another perceived encroachment on his territory.
It wasn't Clark's fault there was a conference in Batman's city, he thought irritably as he jotted notes. He didn't owe the man a courtesy call every time he crossed city limits, after all.
Clark sighed and stared at his notes unseeing. Of course, Bruce almost certainly knew he was here.
The pencil tip snapped.
Clark signed and reached for his briefcase to find another, but the sound of the door being kicked down distracted him. The gathered reporters gasped and shrieked as armed gunmen surrounded them. Their leader--a short, squat, and sweaty man Clark had never seen before--was announcing that this act was in retaliation for all the betrayals of the press over the years, they would be held until their newspapers apologized...Clark cased the exits and debated how best to go about salvaging the situation, listening to the leader with a fraction of his attention.
"...case you were thinking about some kind of escape, we brought along some safeguards." The leader gestured to a slender man among the thugs, who made a few sharp gestures with his hands.
Clark felt the familiar nauseating ripple of magic along his nerve endings. He barely had time to be annoyed before everything went dark.
: : :
Batman and Robin were crouched in a duct, casing the situation. The hall was full of thugs. The door to the room where the hostages had been taken was at the end of the hall. Batman calculated the odds, assessing the weaponry. As long as no one panicked the gang into sudden action, they should be able to--
Harvey Bullock's voice blared over a megaphone and the sharp crack of gunfire echoed down the hall. The police had apparently tired of the standoff and decided to take the direct approach. The terrorists in the hall snapped to alertness. A few of them headed toward the room with the hostages.
"So much for stealth," Robin said tersely as they kicked open the grill and waded into the melee, making their way toward the door hiding the hostages.
There were screams--high-pitched, terrified screams, children's screams--in the next room, and Batman heard Robin curse as they burst through the doors into the main conference room.
The room was full of terrified, milling children. Part of Batman's mind noticed that they were dressed very oddly, in miniature versions of business suits, like tiny adults.
"Batman!" cried an angry voice, and he and Robin swung to meet the sight of the gang leader holding a gun to the temple of one of the children. "Don't move or I'll shoot! I swear it!"
The child's bright blue eyes were full of tears, his lower lip trembling as he struggled to keep his composure.
Clark Kent's eyes stared, unrecognizing, at Batman from the face of a young boy.
Robin gasped and Bruce knew he recognized the boy as well. "I'll do it!" the man warned again, and the young Clark squeezed his eyes shut, obviously petrified. Did he still have his powers? Did he even know about his powers?
As Batman and Robin stood frozen, there was the sound of feet running down the hall, and sharp official voices. The hostage-taker's eyes turned desperate, and his finger tightened on the trigger convulsively.
The report of the gun sounded through the room.
Clark screamed in panic and pushed the man away from him; the villain's body smashed against the wall behind him. There was a faint ting as the crumpled bullet fell to the floor, mingling with the leader's groans. The small boy was unharmed.
Bruce's heart started beating again.
A scrabble of motion from the hall, and Harvey Bullock's voice boomed threats and demands through the room.
"We can't let--" Robin started, but Batman was already grabbing the boy with Clark's eyes and launching a grapple through the skylight. Clark screamed again as they burst through the glass; Bruce instinctively shielded the boy from flying fragments.
Then they were on the roof, and above the city, soaring from building to building, Clark's voice spiraling into near-hysteria as the city whirled below them. "Let go of me! Let me go! No!"
There was a stab of pain in his hand and ruby light lanced by his face; Clark gasped sharply and went limp in Bruce's arms.
Batman landed next to the Batmobile, Robin alighting shortly after. "What do you think happened?" Dick asked as Bruce gently lowered the child into the back seat.
"Magic."
"Yeah, I'd guessed that much, thanks."
"Regressed the hostages to make them less of a threat," Batman clarified as he started the car. "Clark got caught up in it."
"But he didn't have powers as a little kid. I didn't think he got them until he was almost seventeen."
Batman grunted. "Because he had to be exposed to solar radiation for that long. His body's younger now, but it's still gotten decades of exposure. So he's got powers."
"How old do you think he is?"
Trees dopplered by. "About eight, I'd guess," said Bruce.
Dick glanced into the back seat. Clark had curled up into a fetal position, eyes tightly closed, shivering.
: : :
Bruce pulled the glove off, wincing, and took the anti-burn salve from Dick. He was lucky; it had been a glancing blow. The burn was still deep and raw though, blistered and ugly.
Dick glanced back at the Batmobile where Clark was still curled up. "I'll go tell Alfred we have a guest, get him up to speed. Maybe get a snack together."
Bruce grunted and Dick went up the stairs, casting a worried look back as he went.
Bruce placed calls to the main JLA magic-users, but none were responding. Apparently a busy night for the magic contingent. The police channels were busy with chatter about Batman kidnapping one of the hostages. The Gotham police--not surprisingly--had been no more successful at finding someone to reverse the spell.
From the direction of the car, Bruce heard a small throat being cleared. He turned to see Clark standing next to it, looking odd and owlish in child-sized pinstripes and horn-rimmed glasses, his hair sticking up all over. "Where am I?" the boy whispered.
"You don't recognize this place?"
The boy's eyes cast around the cave. "Recognize?" The small voice was incredulous. "I need to get back to Smallville! My Ma and Pa--they'll be so worried! Please, sir--" Clark dragged a badly-tailored sleeve across his nose to hide a sniffle, "--please, at least let me call them."
"Don't you know me?" The boy shook his head mutely, fear sparking in his eyes. The fear, and the young-yet-familiar voice calling him "sir," made Bruce uncomfortable. "You're not really a child," he said brusquely. Clark wouldn't want to be coddled, he told himself. "You're Clark Kent, and you're an adult who's been turned back into a child by magic." Clark's eyes were large and incredulous. "You work with me."
"Work with..." Clark shook his head again, staring at the cowl, the armor. "I don't understand, sir."
"You fight evildoers, you're a superhero," Batman said. A young Clark Kent would surely get a thrill from that. "And you're not human, you're an alien. Your parents hadn't told you that yet, but really you're from outer space."
"An...alien?" Clark looked at his hands. "I felt that bullet--hit me. It bounced off. And my eyes..." His voice trailed off as he looked at Batman's burnt hand and his own hands began to shake slightly.
Batman was still looking up at the picture on the monitor. "Yes, you have a large array of superpowers." He tapped at the computer to call up a picture of Superman, bullets bouncing off his chest, villains scattering before him. "Invulnerability is one of them."
"That's...me...?" Clark's voice was faint.
Batman nodded. "You also have super-strength--" He called up an image of Superman ripping an armored getaway truck in two as thugs scrambled to escape. "Cold breath--" This picture was of Superman encasing a building in ice, "And heat vision." The image was of Superman battling Lex Luthor in his battle suit; pedestrians fleeing before the two titans, debris flying everywhere. "It's due to solar energy, you see. You didn't have powers at this age because you--"
A choked sound behind him cut him off; he swung around to see Clark staring at the monitor, face twisted in anguish. "Clark?" Batman reached out without thinking with his burned hand.
The boy stumbled backwards, staring at the blisters. "Don't touch me!" he gasped. "No!" Clark whirled and fled into the shadows of the cave. "Leave me alone!" he screamed from the darkness as Batman tried to approach him, then began sobbing in earnest.
Bruce hesitated for a moment, then turned and went back to the computer chair. His back was stiff as if the wailing sobs in the shadows were blows raining down on him, but he didn't approach the child.
: : :
"What the hell?" Dick dropped his platter of cookies on the counter with a clatter and rushed toward the corner of the cave where Clark was still huddled, weeping as if his heart were broken. Clark curled into a tight ball, clamping his hands over his eyes and shrieking as Dick gathered him into his arms. "Bruce, what the hell are you doing?" Dick snarled.
Batman didn't turn from the console. "I told him about his powers. I thought he would find them interesting."
The boy's voice echoed from the corner, hoarse with sobs. "Interesting? I'm a monster from outer space that ki--kills with his eyes!"
"You don't kill people," Dick said soothingly. "You're one of the good guys. You're Superman." Clark didn't seem to hear him, breaking down into freshly hysterical sobs. Dick patted him on the shoulder, then made his way over to the computer where Bruce was still staring at the screen. With a savagely swift kick, he pivoted the chair and Bruce to face him, clamping his hands to the computer arms on either side of the vigilante. "Bruce Wayne," Dick hissed, "You get over there and comfort him."
"He's not a child," Bruce said stubbornly. "He's Kal-El. He's Superman. He wouldn't want me to--"
"--He is a terrified, heartbroken eight-year-old," Dick snarled. Bruce's jaw tensed slightly and Dick rocked back as if the other man had yelled something, his eyes narrowing in realization. "You can't deal with that, can you? Seeing the Man of Steel like this, seeing him as frightened and alone as you were." Dick removed his hands very carefully from the chair, then placed them lightly on Batman's shoulders. "I'm going back upstairs to get Alfred, and in the meantime you're going to find it in yourself to be there for Clark. Because I know you have it in you to console a frightened boy, Bruce. Even if you don't seem to remember it." He walked up the stairs and was gone.
After a long moment, Batman's shoulders slumped and he rose from the chair and walked very cautiously toward the dark corner where Clark still sat. The boy's breath hitched painfully a few times as Batman drew closer and he halted, holding out his uninjured hand uselessly into the space between them. "You're...not a monster," he said.
"Everyone will be afraid of me. I saw it. In those pictures." The voice was too high, teetering dangerously close to tears again.
"That's not true. Dick--my partner--he's not afraid of you. You could tell, couldn't you?" Batman waved his hand vaguely in the air. "And me. I'm not afraid of you."
There was a gleam of sharp blue eyes as Clark scooted forward just a little. "Really? Even after..." His eyes flicked toward Batman's burned hand.
"You were...startled. Some crazy guy in a black costume just snatched you up and broke through a window with you. It was a natural reaction."
A laugh that had a sob inside it. "Natural. I'm not natural."
Batman crouched down to be closer to eye level with the sapphire gleam in the shadows. "Perfectly natural Kryptonian reaction. You're not just some alien from a horror movie, Clark. You're from the planet Krypton. It's a beautiful place, with a long and noble history." Now did not seem to be the time to mention that--besides Clark--history was almost all that was left of Krypton. ”There's nothing frightening about it. Or about you."
There was a long, snuffling silence, broken by a tiny voice. "Promise?"
"Cross my heart," said Bruce, doing so and feeling ridiculous. He waited, listening to the boy collect his breath, wanting to return to his work and not face the child's anguish, forcing himself to stay.
Clark's next words managed to surprise him. "You have...bats here? I can hear them."
"I'm Batman. Of course I have bats."
The boy stepped out of the shadows, his face abstracted and turned to the ceiling. "What kind are they?" Even as Bruce lurched from his crouch to catch him, he stumbled and walked over the edge.
He squeaked in alarm, his arms pinwheeling, but didn't fall. His eyes grew larger and larger, staring at Batman, as he lifted upward. "I can fly!" he said in astonishment. "Hey, look!"
"Watch out for the--" Bruce didn't get a chance to finish the sentence as Clark banged gently into the ceiling and a massive cloud of bats swarmed free, engulfing the boy in a frenzy of wings. Bruce flinched, waiting for the outburst, but when it came, it wasn't what he expected.
Clark was laughing.
The swarm dissipated enough that Bruce could make out Clark's pale face, his eyes shining. "This place is awesome!"
Bruce found himself oddly disgruntled. "Most people find bats...intimidating," he said.
"Are you kidding?" Clark's delight was palpable. Bats flittered around him like spirits. "I love bats! I'm going to be a chiroptologist when I grow up!" He put out a hand as the bats fluttered by, feeling the air currents in their wake. "A chiroptologist is a person who studies bats," he explained gravely.
"I know what a chiroptologist is," Bruce noted, feeling rather off-balance.
Clark's smile was framed by dark wings and blurred motion. "A bat can eat more than a thousand insects in an hour! And they can live up to thirty years!" The boy started to slide downward toward where Batman was standing. "The smallest bat in the world is the bumblebee bat of--"
"--Thailand. Yes, I know."
Clark seemed entirely undaunted by Bruce's tone, dropping to be nearly face-to-face with the other man. "Its real name is Kitti's Hog-nosed Bat," he announced happily. "And check out its Latin name: Craseonycteris thonglongyai. Is that not the most awesome name ever? Hey, are those chocolate-chip cookies?" The boy swooped over to grab one from the plate Dick had left and started to nibble on it, still hovering. "So..." he said, the smile fading somewhat, "I guess I'm not a chiroptologist then, huh?"
"I'm...afraid not. You're a reporter when you're out of costume."
The hovering boy made a face. "I suppose that's okay." He stared down at the half-eaten cookie and asked very quietly, "Do I have any friends?"
Batman grunted in a way that he hoped didn't sound too non-committal and walked to the computer. "Here." A few buttons and a picture sprang to life: Clark laughing at his desk with a red-haired young man. "That's a friend of yours. Jimmy."
Clark crossed his legs in the air. "I look kind of like a dweeb," he noted. He seemed perversely pleased by that.
Another picture of Clark at a restaurant with a red-headed woman. "Is that Lana?" Clark said. "Wow, she grew up...kind of pretty. I don't like her or anything," he explained hastily. "She's just a girl in my class."
Clark with a notebook at a crime scene next to a striking brunette. "Lois Lane, a co-worker. She's...kind of a friend of yours too."
He seemed to have a surprisingly large number of pictures of Clark Kent, Batman noted as he went through his files. He flicked a few of them on the screen in quick succession: Clark watching television with Diana, Clark playing a video game with Wally--
"--Who's that guy?" Clark asked as an image went by: Clark grinning wryly and sitting next to a scowling, dark-haired man in a business suit, his arms crossed. "He doesn't seem to like me very much," he said, laughing at the man's saturnine expression.
"He likes you just fine," Batman snapped. "He's just not the gushy sort. Not everyone has to drape themselves all over you to prove they're friends."
Footsteps on the stairs signaled the welcome return of Robin, Alfred trailing behind him. "We brought some milk this time," said Robin cautiously, a smile lighting his face as he saw Clark untearful and eating cookies.
"Thank you," said Clark politely, taking a glass and sipping it. "I was admiring your bats. They're very nice. I want to be a chiroptologist when I grow--well, I guess I wanted to," he amended, looking at the image of himself on the screen. "A chiroptologist is a person who studies bats," he informed Alfred and Robin, with the air of a boy used to having adults stare at him as if he were crazy.
"Well," said Robin with a small smile, "I suppose it's never too late."
Batman made an annoyed sound, but the conversation was cut off by a window opening on the massive screen. Zatanna's face stared out of it. "Batman? Did you need my help with something?"
"We have an eight-year-old Clark Kent here. Magic. Anything you can do to help?"
A impish smile. "You've come to the right place! Ot eht evactab!" Her form on the screen vanished and the magician appeared in the cave.
"Whoa!" Clark moved back a little, floating to the ground to stand normally.
Zatanna smiled reassuringly at him and winked. "Just a little magic," she whispered. She traced a few motions in the air in front of his face, leaving smears of glowing motion in her hands' wake. "Oh yeah," she said brassily, "This is strictly amateur magic. I can get this fixed in a jiffy." She took a breath and raised her hands.
"Wait!" Clark's young voice halted her. He looked slightly panicked. "Is this going to--to hurt?"
"Don't worry, Clark, you won't feel a thing."
"I--maybe we should just wait a little longer. Let you prepare."
Zatanna frowned. "I'm ready to go, Big--uh, Little Blue. This is a very simple spell, no fuss and no muss."
"I--I--" Clark broke off and stared in mute appeal at Batman before managing, "I don't know if I want to. Can't I...stay like this? Learn...not to use these powers? Be a normal kid? I don't--" his lower lip trembled very slightly. "I really don't want people to be afraid of me."
Batman crouched to be at eye level with the boy again and put a hand on his shoulder. "I'll never be afraid of you, Clark. I promise. Cross my heart."
To his surprise, Clark threw himself into his arms, burying his face against the black shoulder. The boy took a couple of shaky breaths and Batman could feel his shoulders trembling. "Okay," Clark whispered finally, not looking up. "Then I'm ready."
Bruce looked over the boy's head to Zatanna, who was looking bemused, and nodded. She shrugged and said, "Eb tluda ecno erom!"
Bruce found himself abruptly with an armful of full-sized Clark and stood up hastily. Clark stayed still for just a second, his face still tight against Batman's shoulder. Then he stepped back and dragged a sleeve across his face briskly, clearing his throat. "Well. I'm just glad I don't have to go through puberty again," he said cheerfully to everyone. "Once was more than enough."
Laughter broke the uncertain silence and Zatanna turned to Batman. "I'd better get to the police station to help out with the other hostages," she said. A phrase later and she was gone.
Dick clapped Clark on the shoulder. "Good to have you back. Will you stay for dinner?" At Clark's surprised nod, Dick said, "I'll go change and meet you upstairs in a bit, then."
Clark grinned. "Thanks for the invite. And thanks for the cookies, Alfred. They were great." The butler nodded gravely and headed up the stairs.
"You remember it all?" Batman, watching the other two leave.
"Yes," Clark said, his tone clipped. "I'm...sorry about your hand," he added. Batman grunted dismissively.
Clark walked to the edge of one of the crevasses and looked up at the bats winging their way through the cavern. "Those are silver-tipped myotis, aren't they? Myotis albescens."
Batman moved to stand next to him, staring up with him. "You never told me you knew so much about bats."
Clark's grin was wry. "We had some that nested in the eaves of our barn. I used to watch them every night, the way they cut lines against the dusk." He traced a flowing, graceful line with his hand through the darkness. "I planned to go into zoology until--well, until my powers manifested. I thought it would be tough to fight crime while crawling around in caves with bats." He chuckled. "Obviously I stand corrected." He looked back up at the ceiling again. "But I really adored bats." He shrugged slightly. "Maybe that's why I was never quite as scared of you as other people."
Batman crossed his arms and glared up at the ceiling, the bats swooping unerringly through the dark. "Well," he said gruffly, "I'm not afraid of you, either." He turned and pointed at Clark. "You get a pass this time because you were just a kid and didn't know any better," he said. "But no more coming in to my city without letting me know first."
"I know, I know! And...thank you," said the amateur chiroptologist.