The ONE
Title: The ONE (5/12)
Fandom: DCU (mostly) Slight crossover with Marvel
Pairings: Clark/Lois, Bruce/OC, John/Wally others implied
Characters: Clark Kent/Superman, Bruce Wayne/Batman with appearances from various people
Word Count: 5,080
Rating: This chapter: PG-13
Warnings: Alcohol consumption, Angst. (what more do you want?) oh, some SAP and comforting.
Synopsis:
In the ten years of being who he was, Bruce Wayne found himself at a crossroad. Three failed marraiges under his belt, money still in hand, and slightly lit up from the drink in hand, he found himself wondering, where was his "One"? All of his friends, colleagues, and family was happy and on their way to lifelong happiness with their one and only's, so what was his problem?
All that was turned on its head when the one person he believed to have it all came to him with that damning news.
Divorce was an ugly word.
It is me...or am I posting too much?? *ponders* I think I am...I can't stop writing and posting...and writing...
*weirded out*
( Chapter 1: The Sober Rules of Engagement )
( Chapter 2: London Bridge has Fallen Down )
( Chapter 3: Tequila, Whiskey, and a shot of 'why?!' )
( Chapter 4: Coming to Fevering Conclusions )
Chapter 5: (Part 5/12)
Reality Television is overrated
“Where did he go?!” Dick exclaimed. “Hello?!”
There was a slight delay in the radio waves, and then a static answer that nearly had him cursing. “He went to Gotham General. I’m not sure…why…”
“He said he was going to take him to see someone he knew personally! Do you know what he was talking about? Or who?”
More static. “Not really, no. I’ll try to contact him again.”
The Manor was located on the outskirts of Gotham city, a few hundred miles from the closest hospital and even further from where Clark had flown Bruce in a haze of worry. Dick had hopped into his car and took off with the teens that had come over earlier that day, peeling down the roads and not caring if the cops were to try and stop him. Alfred had remained behind to alert the other members of the league who were supposed to show up for brunch, and then he would most likely be on his way with the rest of them. If they had their way, the whole watch tower would probably be in and out of Gotham General. Bruce being taken to a hospital wasn’t something anyone took lightly, least of all those who were blessed and cursed with the gift of being more than what they were.
Dick spun the wheel and made a sharp turn to the left, weaving in and out of traffic in order to get to Gotham General. It wasn’t like Clark to get so upset over something like this. Something was wrong, and he didn’t like the feeling it left in his stomach. All he remembered was the alarm on Clark’s face, and then the alarm bells ringing in his own head when he heard Bruce ask Clark to take him to the hospital. Bruce went to Leslie, always her! And if not her, he was in the infirmary at the league! Even then he was okay because he was protesting…
“Dick, can you MOVE this thing any faster?!” Tim cried.
He could, but then he’d really be pushing it. “Calm down Tim. Just relax…my foot is doing the panicking for us,” he exclaimed. “It’s bad enough I’m breaking the speed limit by forty miles, but I have you and your friends in here!”
“We don’t care mister,” a female said. “This isn’t any worse than when Logan drives.”
“Or old one eye when he’s in a tizzy,” another male said. “I think everyone drives nuts.”
Dick looked back briefly. He had the silhouette of Kitty Pride sitting in the back between Tim and Bobby Drake. He remembered meeting them once when he’d visited the school for extraordinary children with Tim once. Tim was fascinated by the school, but more enthralled with the fact that they were interested in Tim. He, Kitty, and Bobby quickly took to one another and more recently spent their days at the school or at the manor. It was probably the only normalcy any of the teens had.
Kitty patted Tim’s shaking hand. Bobby stared worriedly out the window, unconsciously frosting it up the longer he looked out of it. Dick drove a little faster, wishing the static of the radio wasn’t the only thing to fill the silence.
“Dick…he landed,” the radio said. “He’s still not answering me.”
“That’s okay Babs. As long as he’s down…” Dick sighed. “Should be there in fifteen minutes tops.”
“So should the rest of the league founders. They left as soon as they heard.”
He couldn’t blame them. Bruce and the word “hospital” just didn’t belong in the same sentence.
Three hours later:
There was something to this pacing thing. Clark didn’t really dwell on it too long; his thoughts kept flaring back to Bruce and how he was doing. Yet the pacing, the walking continuously back and forth from the doors and back to the rows of chairs; it kept him from thinking too much about how much time had passed; how many minutes had gone by with no news. Seconds. Nanoseconds. It tended to add itself up and left this pressing number sitting between his shoulders, knocking the wind out of him and had him searching the entire hospital for some sign of Bruce. But searching with his x-ray vision only brought about the sight of others waiting to be treated, and then the guilt of wishing they would just hurry up and leave so the doctors could focus on Bruce.
He paced again, just about wearing out the wax film upon the floor and working through the colored tile.
Wally watched him from where he sat in one of the more comfortable chairs. He had his legs folded beneath him, slouching as he kept his head against John’s shoulder. John adjusted himself and his thoughts, remembering to finally turn the page he’d been reading for the last hour. Nearby, Diana steadily moved her foot back and forth, hoping it would keep her from pacing like Clark. Shayera kept looking up at the ceiling, counting the cracks and the shadows that passed by.
J’onn was the only one who was absent. He’d gone off a couple of moments ago to phone his significant other of the situation. They still hadn’t met the woman, but from what they could see, J’onn was finally happy.
Dick, Tim, Kitty, and Bobby were more than restless. They got up, sat down, slept, got up…went to the vending machine, paced; Dick more so than the teens. It hadn’t been that long since he and Bruce reconciled their differences, and for something like this to happen…
“Arg! Can’t they at least SAY what happened?!” he cried. “Jeez, how hard is it to say, ‘I know what’s wrong?’?!”
“Calm down, Dick,” Diana said. “I’m sure we will hear something soon…”
“If not, we can always smash our way in,” Shayera suggested.
Dick smiled a bit and decided to sit. All that pacing was wearing him out. He didn’t know how Clark did it. “Hey, aren’t you tired?” he asked Clark.
Tim nudged him. “You’re talking about a living solar powered battery,” he said. “No, he isn’t tired.”
“Still…”
The doors opened. Everyone turned their attention on the doors and the man that walked through them with an accompanying doctor. The recognized the form of Ray Palmer once he removed his mask, and the other was someone they didn’t know. He, however, was the one to approach Clark and raise his eyebrow at the man.
What was going on?
“Mr. Kent…now I know you live a dangerous life, but that man in there seems to think he’s got your unique sense of luck,” he said. “However, I do believe that my prior encounters with Logan have brought me to this conclusion…”
“And that would be?”
“He needs a babysitter.” The man turned to the others and waved at Kitty and Bobby. “I see that some of our prized students have taken a bit of a leave of absence from the mansion,” he noted. “I’ll have to inquire if you’ve notified the proper authorities to leave the grounds?”
Bobby turned to Kitty. “Is…he talking to us?”
“I-I think so…” She shrugged, not sure who he was or why he was talking to them. “I dunno…”
The man laughed again, this time holding up a familiar device on his wrist. Kitty and Bobby had seen it too many times on Kurt in order for them not to recognize it. The man they were looking at was a mutant, but which one?
“It appears the mechanism within this holographic projection has eluded their memoirs of a specific blue beast,” the man grinned. “Although, one would think that my extensive vocabulary would have…how you would say…tipped them off.”
Bobby smacked his head. “Duh! Hi Hank.”
“Hank?? What are you doing here?!” Kitty asked. “I didn’t know you were a doctor…besides for…the usual suspects.”
Hank McCoy waved once again. Now that they knew who he was, he looked more like himself; tall, broad, handsome, and still intellectually superior; a man who would never pass for a mutant because of his regular fang-less smile. “Yes well, my field of study tends to get rather arduous at times, and it’s best to explore other subjects and fields in order to enhance the efficiency in which I tend to the ‘usual suspects’ as you would put it.” He laughed a bit at their confusion and patted Kitty on the head. “I needed a break from the lab.”
“Oh.”
He turned to the others and held a hand up in greeting. “Salutations. I’m sorry to have met you all under these…circumstances. Clark, you did well to bring him in.”
“Someone want to clue the rest of us in?” Dick asked. “How do you know Clark? More importantly…what happened to Bruce?”
Hank adjusted his glassed. “Well, it’s quite…anticlimactic. You see-“
This was worse than the time he’d been lain out and left to recuperate alone in the Watchtower medic ward. He’d been wrapped up and made to lie still, but at least he could talk back to the smarmy mouthed people he called comrades in arms.
Right now his mouth was sore and full of gauze, not from a night of binge drinking but from having two teeth PULLED. It might have been vain, but he was seriously thanking the higher powers that it was teeth he didn’t have to show. However, being subjected to not one, but several people in his room including the two people he didn’t want to see…
Bruce Wayne was not a happy man.
Ray Palmer resisted snickering a bit. This would be even payback for the many times he’d told Bruce NOT to move…especially that last little stunt a few years back involving a toxic monster and having to team up with a…flamboyant Aquaman. He still had nightmares about those toxin germs.*(1)
Hank prodded at the machinery a bit to make sure everything was working. “She slapped…one of the fillings out of his teeth…and that coupled with an infection he had brewing from an open sore in his mouth created an abscess….which was infected quickly,” he explained. “So he lost the first and second molars on the top right side, basically from former injuries that resulted in fracture. She…just helped it along.”
“Now maybe he will STAY STILL,” Ray snapped. He meant it in good humor, but there was a warning behind the look he was giving him. “You’re lucky I hop between fields. Otherwise some other crackpot would have cracked your jaw open.”
Bruce rolled his eyes and regretted it. The pain meds were there, but they weren’t really kicking in. He was still conscious, and highly aware of the others looking at him from within or outside the room. Shayera, Diana, Kitty, Tim, Bobby, John, and Wally waved at him from behind the glass. Bruce waved back, forcing back a smarmy grin and the urge to flip them off. They couldn’t hide their amusement no more than they could hide their worry. There was more to this little diagnosis than he would have liked to acknowledge, but the damage was done, and would increase once Clark found out just how bad this was.
He closed his eyes, avoiding the concerned gazes of his rescuer and his eldest standing side by side. They were the only ones in here aside the doctors. Clark had been invited in by Hank and Dick shoved his way in before the door could close. The young man looked like he’d seen several ghosts, staring at Bruce in that bed and hooked up to several different devices. The gears were turning, and Bruce dreaded the outburst Dick would have. The young man was smarter than given credit for. Dick knew there was something deeper to all this…but what would he say?
“There is another matter of concern, however,” Hank said turning to Clark. “You know my field of study…and you know who I deal with.”
“How is the professor?” Clark asked.
“Excellent as always. Xavier sends his regards. If I’m right, and I usually am, you saw something when you checked his injuries,” Hank said. Clark hesitated before nodding, biting his lip in an effort not to grind the handles of the chair he was sitting in. “Yes well…you were right to bring him in when you did. Otherwise…this could have been bad.”
“What?” Dick asked. “What could have been bad? And why is he hooked up to an EKG?”
Ray patted him on the shoulder lightly. “It’s all right. We’re just monitoring him, to make sure that what we saw isn’t as bad as it looks.”
“He’s scheduled for an ECHO later,” Hank said. “It seems that Mr. Wayne here is experiencing tachycardia arrhythmias so subtle that it doesn’t register when normal tests are performed. However, these subtle disruptions have the potential to become more noticeable…especially if he engages in high stress related functions.”
Dick rubbed the back of his head. “In English?”
“He’s a walking heart attack.”
Hank ignored the pale look Dick was sporting and focused on the paperwork in his hands. He’d seen that look once too often for him not to be used to it. He’d baby him in a moment, after he explained just what was going on. “I must admit, Mr. Wayne here is a fine specimen, nearly perfect if one were to assess his reflexes, skills, and normal pattern of movement…it supersedes all expectations and nearly puts him at a level close to that of someone non-human. Typically humans like this have and Achilles heel…and it happens to be Mr. Wayne’s heart.”
“I-it’s not failing…right?” Dick stammered. “I mean…he’s as healthy as a horse!”
“Actually he’s a little healthier than a horse if it had worms,” Ray said.
“No…it’s not failing,” Hank reassured. “But, his heart is fighting to keep up with the best of them, and pumping out more and more to heal what is injured over and over. In other words, his heart can’t keep up with the demands of his body…and his liver is singing a whole different tune.”
Many nights being a little off of your rocker would do that to the best of them. Bruce grumbled through the gauze in his mouth and sighed mentally. He could already hear the oncoming lecture from the big man in charge. He’d heard it often enough to have the general version of it burned into his ears and the words flowing through his mind the longer he thought about it. He glimpsed in Clark’s direction, expecting to see the man’s jaw set and clenching from the effort of not cursing him out then and there. He was quite surprised to find nothing else but genuine worry, and concern where usually there was none. At least…none that he’d noticed before.
Maybe…maybe he was-maybe he could hope…a little?
“No worries son,” Hank said clapping Dick on the shoulder. “He just needs an extended leave…and to be MORE CAREFUL from now on. He’ll be fine. Now…let’s go talk to the others, shall we?”
Dick nodded numbly, following the gentle urges of Ray and Hank to place him outside of the door where everyone else was waiting. They followed and closed the door gently behind them. The soft click was the trigger to snap Clark out of his light daze and refocus his attention back on Bruce watching him. Bruce knew what was coming. Clark knew it too.
“Bruce….you’re off the roster for as long as it takes to heal completely,” Clark said softly. “I’m sorry…”
Bruce nodded a bit. He expected Clark to up and leave, but again he was surprised to see him move and redirect himself on the edge of his bed. A warm hand placed itself on his folded arms and he closed his eyes as Clark’s forehead touched his own.
“You are too…important,” Clark said gently. “Too important to too many people…and we would mourn deeply if you die needlessly. Just…think of it as a vacation. I’ll…just go home…and try to fix things-”
No!
“-and leave you alone to heal properly. But…thank you for listening to me. You were always good for that.”
He was going to leave. Wait, he hadn’t been there but two nights. But, the man was going to leave! It was too soon! Wait, what was too soon? It wasn’t as if…and then the man was just still hurting from being left…but he couldn’t go!
That would be the medicine kicking in and making his inner child vocal. He grunted his displeasure, because his inner pouting child, once again, was right.
Bruce did the only thing he could do. He lunged at him, enfolding him in his arms and clinging as if the man were dying. This would have choked a normal person. For Clark, it threw him off balance and left him feeling…rather warm.
“D…don’t…go…”
“Bruce??”
Bruce tried again, wincing from the pain of moving his jaw but determined to make his self heard. “Don’t….Go…” he said again. “…S-stay.” Okay, now the medicine was making his jaw slack. The pain was dulling, but making words that weren’t slurred was going to be a little more than difficult. Impossible would be a better term. Yeah.
“W-what?”
“Haaaank….said….I needed….a babysitter…You….”
“Me?! I-I-can’t-“
He pulled away from Clark and tapped him on the cheek much like he had at the wedding, smiling a little. Okay, the medicine was making him dopey now. Not much longer until La-La Land came about. “Suuure….you can.”
“No…I can’t-“
“….Don’t trust anyone…else…like you. Please…just….stay.”
The darkness was winning. He grasped at consciousness a little harder, but in the end, the doctors won. He slipped into the waiting pain-free coma, his face burying itself into Clark’s warm neck and going slack from exhaustion. Clark gently eased him back into the waiting pillows, smiling softly at the sure sound of a strong heart beating beneath him. He smoothed the silken locks of black out of his eyes and tried not to stare at the handprint of his soon to be ex fading from his friend’s right cheek.
Feeling his forehead before had alarmed him, but hearing his heart struggling to work…he hadn’t had time to think about it. He didn’t even realize it was or could be that severe. Bruce was always…always running with the best of them…and it was going to get him killed. It was times like these where he wished Bruce had something to sustain him aside his mission in life to rid the streets of crime.
Outside, the others exchanged glances between them. Even Dick snapped out of his funk long enough to see and realize just what was happening. “Oh…god, not again,” he groaned. “I don’t think I can take another episode of WOE.”
“Oh come on,” Wally said. “We’ve been through three episodes of ‘what not to marry’. Let’s…just see how this pans out.”
“If it pans out,” Tim said. “Bruce is pretty stubborn about things like this…and Clark isn’t the sharpest person when it comes to being obvious.”
Everyone nodded in agreement and continued to stare at them through the glass. Clark was settled next Bruce, watching the man sleep peacefully for the third time in a matter of two days. Perhaps now things would calm themselves down a bit. They deserved a little peace…
“Did anyone tell Clark about the media madness flowing around his apartment?” John asked.
Diana shook her head. “I doubt he knows…it was only last night that my Steve and I heard about the ‘Slap heard round the world’, as they are calling it.”
“Did you think that wasn’t going to happen?” Wally asked. “I mean...the woman slapped one of the world’s richest men in the face at the most public event listed to date!”
Kitty gasped and covered her mouth in shock. “Oh my god…that was HIS wife?!” she cried pointing at Clark. “They’ve got video of it circulating all over the net! Someone from TMZ got footage of it.”
“Already has over a million hits on YouTube,” Bobby said. “She hits hard.”
“Again…why did she slap him??” Diana queried. “I was under the assumption that they were still somewhat friends…”
Nobody really knew. Only Bruce and Lois knew, and they had a feeling that those two were going to remain tight lipped about what happened.
Somewhere over the Atlantic:
Tony was humming something. Steve didn’t recognize the tune, but he knew that Tony humming meant that he was blissfully unaware of the world around him. He was in his own little imaginary world, and he was probably going to do his best to reenact every sordid detail of his fantasy when they touched base with the ground again. Those were usually the best sessions…and Steve sincerely hoped Tony was planning on jumping him the moment they were in their room. If not, Tony wasn’t going to see the light of day for as long as he could keep him glued to the bed.
A soft slap against the back of his head kept him from grinning too much. “Save it for when he get to the island,” Tony smirked.
“Can I help it if I have the world’s sexiest man besides me?”
“Oh…Mr. Rodgers…you certainly know how to flatter someone. That might get you mileage for the Mile High Club Premium.”
“Yeah?”
Tony nodded, easing himself out of his seat and sitting back down in Steve’s waiting lap. They had taken Tony’s private jet to their honeymoon destination, Aruba. Someone had suggested that they go on an Alaskan cruise, and to them that was like telling Steve to go visit his tomb. No. He wanted to go someplace warm, fun, and inviting, and where there wasn’t going to be much trouble asking for them to step in. Nothing in South America, no place overseas, and definitely within reach of the U.S.A. in case something decided to “pop” up. Tony hadn’t been down to the Caribbean for a while, and his home in Aruba seemed like the perfect place to really…consummate…their union.
He smiled wickedly just thinking about two weeks without having to tone it down for the sake of Spidey or Doc Banner when he was relaxed. It seemed that sexual frustration brought out the Hulk as well, and then the questions started.
“HULK WANT TALK TO TIN MAN!”
Tony pulled away from kissing Steve senseless and looked down at his communicator. “You can’t be serious,” he muttered. “I thought I turned this thing off!”
There was a bit of static, and then the high pitched whine of a monitor came on and greeted them with several faces. Tony slid out of Steve’s lap, visibly upset that their honeymoon was about to be cut short. Steve kissed the side of his head, ignoring the gag Spiderman was making.
“Please tell me you’re just calling to wish us a Happy Honeymoon,” Tony said. “That the world isn’t ending and that I’m still one of the richest men in the world.”
Spiderman snorted through his mask and pushed a grinning and waving Hulk out of sight with his foot. “Oh? You’re one of the richest men in the world huh? Can I get better healthcare benefits? I’m in a really dangerous line of work with a guy in a suit, a powerhouse, radiating anger, and a man who shrinks…did I mention that I have a good chance to be punctured? WHOA!”
Steve shook his head at Logan retracting his claws and shoving Spiderman over a bit. Spiderman moved, but settled for squatting on the mutants head and waving. Hulk’s hand was still waving in the back.
“Hey, bub…yer friend is on the front page of tomorrow’s news paper,” he said. “Bug-breath here caught tomorrow’s edition…snuck a copy home fer us.”
“I submitted the wedding photos and Jameson nearly kissed me. I swear, being gay is like…catching,” Spiderman said. “Next thing I know, I’ll be hitched to Flash Thompson and getting married on the 50 yard line.”
Tony was a bit stunned to find that one of his friends made the front page of the Daily Bugle. “I thought my wedding would have at least a week before something knocked it out,” he said. “Must be something serious.”
“Oh…it’s serious all right,” Logan said. “As in Bruce Wayne being slapped by Lois Lane.”
Spiderman chuckled a bit. “Wayne vs. Lane. The Global went to town with that.”
Tony, billionaire genius and all time inventor, let his head fall back as he smacked his head. “Oh nooooo.”
“People are calling it the ‘slap heard round the world’, you know,” Henry said. He was about the size of an action figure, but visible and sharing what looked to be a piece of a cookie with one of his ant buddies. “Never paid much attention to that sort of stuff…but the viral video was in my email.”
“Viral video?” Steve asked.
“It’s something that spreads quickly over the web, dear,” Tony explained. “It means a lot have watched it, downloaded it, and sent it out. WHO sent it to you Henry?”
The small man took another bite of his treat and pointed. “Spidey.”
“I found it on YouTube,” Spiderman said. “And…I snagged a copy of the video from a source that belongs to another paper. Hacking never felt sooo good.”
“And,” Logan said, “It looks like your buddy is in the hospital. We, meaning bug-boy, heard it through the grape vine. Hank confirmed it…said Bruce needed a babysitter.”
Tony went from groaning to rubbing his hands in devilish delight. “A babysitter, huh? I know just the perfect man for the job…and he won’t say no.” He quickly reached into Steve’s pocket and grabbed the cell phone sitting in the front pocket. Another gag was ignored from Spiderman. He magically made the phone come to life, and he could hear Hulk asking about it as he looked for one number in particular.
“Babe…what are you-“
Tony shushed him and placed the phone to his ear. A ring and then - “Daily Planet, Perry White speaking. How can I be of service?”
“Perry White. Tony Stark.”
He heard the older man groan inwardly before he heard it aloud. “Oh god…Mr. Stark, I am so sorry about-“
“Perry, can I call you Perry? Look, I’m not calling for retribution or anything of the like,” he explained. “In fact, I just heard about it. But that’s not why I’m calling you.”
“It’s not?”
“No. Actually…I have a favor to ask…and no, it doesn’t involve firing Lois Lane.”
“…then why else are you calling me?”
Tony smirked into the receiver. “I need a babysitter.”
“What?!”
Clark stared in disbelief at his phone. Perry was on the other line, and from what he’d just been told, he wasn’t going back home anytime soon.
It had only been about two hours since he’d decided to let Bruce sleep in peace. Even then he hovered around the area, listening for any changes in the man that had passed out happily thanks to a doctor’s cocktail as Hank had put it. He was going to be out for a little while, forcing him to rest when he usually wouldn’t. The rest of the founding members had gone off to continue the rest of their day, leaving him alone with Dick, Tim, Kitty, and Bobby. The Teens eventually decided that they’d waited around enough, and took off for an impromptu tour of Gotham with their tour guide as Tim. Dick decided it was best for everyone if he tagged along and made sure they didn’t get in trouble…and it would be nice to revisit a ghost from his past.
So Clark was left alone, feeling a little lost, tired, and dangerously close to thinking about what Bruce said.
Then his phone rang.
“Perry…you can’t be serious! I can’t-“
“You can and you will!” the voice over the other line exclaimed. “It was a request, and I sincerely do not need a backlash like we got when video of your wife smacking Bruce Wayne, THE OWNER of the PLANET mind you, got out!”
“Excuse me?!”
“Jeez, where have you been?! Your apartment is a breeding ground for paparazzi. Everyone is wondering why that slap happened, and frankly I want to know myself! But she isn’t talking…hell, she isn’t even here!”
“She’s not there?? Is she okay?”
“Lois is a tough old bird. Don’t tell her I said that,” Perry laughed softly. “She can take care of herself. I thought she would have told you…or…is the other hash around the cooler true?”
Clark pinched the bridge of his nose. He felt a massive headache coming on. “Yeah…it’s true,” he murmured. “I don’t know what’s what anymore chief…and is Stark MAD?!”
Perry laughed a little louder and shook his head. Not that Clark could see it, but he felt it. “I thought he was…but it makes sense,” he said. “You know there is a lot going on with the registration act. Attacks are being launched into variant cities. The MRD is starting to surface everywhere, including Gotham. You can get a first hand look, while…babysitting. Okay?”
“But-“
“You still get paid…and you really don’t want to go to your apartment. Serious circus media.”
Clark sighed and resigned himself to the inevitable. There was no getting out of this. “Okay…okay. I’ll…babysit him,” he sighed. “But-“
“Great! Arrangements have been made. Call Alfred Pennyworth, the butler. Jarvis has already spoken with him regarding your stay and Stark’s impending visit in two weeks.”
“Tony’s coming HERE?!”
“Of course. What? There are friends in high places my boy. Not every billionaire is Lex Luthor. Now, do as I say and make sure you check in with me before close tonight. All right? Oh…and son?”
“Hm?”
There was a slight pause on the other line, as if he was fighting for the right thing to say. He exhaled very quietly and said, “If you need me…need to talk….well, I’m here. Okay?”
“Sure Perry…bye.”
He could give it to the old man. He knew what buttons to push and when to push them. It only sucked because he heard the sincerity behind the words offered, and he REALLY wanted to talk to someone about all this. Rubbing his temples with his hands, he absently walked back to the room where Bruce lay unconscious.
He pressed his hands to the window, looked at the prone body, and almost…ALMOST…whined.
“This…is going to be the longest few weeks of my life…” he muttered. No one but the walls and an elderly lady passing by heard him. For her effort, she patted him on the back.
Fandom: DCU (mostly) Slight crossover with Marvel
Pairings: Clark/Lois, Bruce/OC, John/Wally others implied
Characters: Clark Kent/Superman, Bruce Wayne/Batman with appearances from various people
Word Count: 5,080
Rating: This chapter: PG-13
Warnings: Alcohol consumption, Angst. (what more do you want?) oh, some SAP and comforting.
Synopsis:
In the ten years of being who he was, Bruce Wayne found himself at a crossroad. Three failed marraiges under his belt, money still in hand, and slightly lit up from the drink in hand, he found himself wondering, where was his "One"? All of his friends, colleagues, and family was happy and on their way to lifelong happiness with their one and only's, so what was his problem?
All that was turned on its head when the one person he believed to have it all came to him with that damning news.
Divorce was an ugly word.
It is me...or am I posting too much?? *ponders* I think I am...I can't stop writing and posting...and writing...
*weirded out*
( Chapter 1: The Sober Rules of Engagement )
( Chapter 2: London Bridge has Fallen Down )
( Chapter 3: Tequila, Whiskey, and a shot of 'why?!' )
( Chapter 4: Coming to Fevering Conclusions )
Chapter 5: (Part 5/12)
Reality Television is overrated
“Where did he go?!” Dick exclaimed. “Hello?!”
There was a slight delay in the radio waves, and then a static answer that nearly had him cursing. “He went to Gotham General. I’m not sure…why…”
“He said he was going to take him to see someone he knew personally! Do you know what he was talking about? Or who?”
More static. “Not really, no. I’ll try to contact him again.”
The Manor was located on the outskirts of Gotham city, a few hundred miles from the closest hospital and even further from where Clark had flown Bruce in a haze of worry. Dick had hopped into his car and took off with the teens that had come over earlier that day, peeling down the roads and not caring if the cops were to try and stop him. Alfred had remained behind to alert the other members of the league who were supposed to show up for brunch, and then he would most likely be on his way with the rest of them. If they had their way, the whole watch tower would probably be in and out of Gotham General. Bruce being taken to a hospital wasn’t something anyone took lightly, least of all those who were blessed and cursed with the gift of being more than what they were.
Dick spun the wheel and made a sharp turn to the left, weaving in and out of traffic in order to get to Gotham General. It wasn’t like Clark to get so upset over something like this. Something was wrong, and he didn’t like the feeling it left in his stomach. All he remembered was the alarm on Clark’s face, and then the alarm bells ringing in his own head when he heard Bruce ask Clark to take him to the hospital. Bruce went to Leslie, always her! And if not her, he was in the infirmary at the league! Even then he was okay because he was protesting…
“Dick, can you MOVE this thing any faster?!” Tim cried.
He could, but then he’d really be pushing it. “Calm down Tim. Just relax…my foot is doing the panicking for us,” he exclaimed. “It’s bad enough I’m breaking the speed limit by forty miles, but I have you and your friends in here!”
“We don’t care mister,” a female said. “This isn’t any worse than when Logan drives.”
“Or old one eye when he’s in a tizzy,” another male said. “I think everyone drives nuts.”
Dick looked back briefly. He had the silhouette of Kitty Pride sitting in the back between Tim and Bobby Drake. He remembered meeting them once when he’d visited the school for extraordinary children with Tim once. Tim was fascinated by the school, but more enthralled with the fact that they were interested in Tim. He, Kitty, and Bobby quickly took to one another and more recently spent their days at the school or at the manor. It was probably the only normalcy any of the teens had.
Kitty patted Tim’s shaking hand. Bobby stared worriedly out the window, unconsciously frosting it up the longer he looked out of it. Dick drove a little faster, wishing the static of the radio wasn’t the only thing to fill the silence.
“Dick…he landed,” the radio said. “He’s still not answering me.”
“That’s okay Babs. As long as he’s down…” Dick sighed. “Should be there in fifteen minutes tops.”
“So should the rest of the league founders. They left as soon as they heard.”
He couldn’t blame them. Bruce and the word “hospital” just didn’t belong in the same sentence.
Three hours later:
There was something to this pacing thing. Clark didn’t really dwell on it too long; his thoughts kept flaring back to Bruce and how he was doing. Yet the pacing, the walking continuously back and forth from the doors and back to the rows of chairs; it kept him from thinking too much about how much time had passed; how many minutes had gone by with no news. Seconds. Nanoseconds. It tended to add itself up and left this pressing number sitting between his shoulders, knocking the wind out of him and had him searching the entire hospital for some sign of Bruce. But searching with his x-ray vision only brought about the sight of others waiting to be treated, and then the guilt of wishing they would just hurry up and leave so the doctors could focus on Bruce.
He paced again, just about wearing out the wax film upon the floor and working through the colored tile.
Wally watched him from where he sat in one of the more comfortable chairs. He had his legs folded beneath him, slouching as he kept his head against John’s shoulder. John adjusted himself and his thoughts, remembering to finally turn the page he’d been reading for the last hour. Nearby, Diana steadily moved her foot back and forth, hoping it would keep her from pacing like Clark. Shayera kept looking up at the ceiling, counting the cracks and the shadows that passed by.
J’onn was the only one who was absent. He’d gone off a couple of moments ago to phone his significant other of the situation. They still hadn’t met the woman, but from what they could see, J’onn was finally happy.
Dick, Tim, Kitty, and Bobby were more than restless. They got up, sat down, slept, got up…went to the vending machine, paced; Dick more so than the teens. It hadn’t been that long since he and Bruce reconciled their differences, and for something like this to happen…
“Arg! Can’t they at least SAY what happened?!” he cried. “Jeez, how hard is it to say, ‘I know what’s wrong?’?!”
“Calm down, Dick,” Diana said. “I’m sure we will hear something soon…”
“If not, we can always smash our way in,” Shayera suggested.
Dick smiled a bit and decided to sit. All that pacing was wearing him out. He didn’t know how Clark did it. “Hey, aren’t you tired?” he asked Clark.
Tim nudged him. “You’re talking about a living solar powered battery,” he said. “No, he isn’t tired.”
“Still…”
The doors opened. Everyone turned their attention on the doors and the man that walked through them with an accompanying doctor. The recognized the form of Ray Palmer once he removed his mask, and the other was someone they didn’t know. He, however, was the one to approach Clark and raise his eyebrow at the man.
What was going on?
“Mr. Kent…now I know you live a dangerous life, but that man in there seems to think he’s got your unique sense of luck,” he said. “However, I do believe that my prior encounters with Logan have brought me to this conclusion…”
“And that would be?”
“He needs a babysitter.” The man turned to the others and waved at Kitty and Bobby. “I see that some of our prized students have taken a bit of a leave of absence from the mansion,” he noted. “I’ll have to inquire if you’ve notified the proper authorities to leave the grounds?”
Bobby turned to Kitty. “Is…he talking to us?”
“I-I think so…” She shrugged, not sure who he was or why he was talking to them. “I dunno…”
The man laughed again, this time holding up a familiar device on his wrist. Kitty and Bobby had seen it too many times on Kurt in order for them not to recognize it. The man they were looking at was a mutant, but which one?
“It appears the mechanism within this holographic projection has eluded their memoirs of a specific blue beast,” the man grinned. “Although, one would think that my extensive vocabulary would have…how you would say…tipped them off.”
Bobby smacked his head. “Duh! Hi Hank.”
“Hank?? What are you doing here?!” Kitty asked. “I didn’t know you were a doctor…besides for…the usual suspects.”
Hank McCoy waved once again. Now that they knew who he was, he looked more like himself; tall, broad, handsome, and still intellectually superior; a man who would never pass for a mutant because of his regular fang-less smile. “Yes well, my field of study tends to get rather arduous at times, and it’s best to explore other subjects and fields in order to enhance the efficiency in which I tend to the ‘usual suspects’ as you would put it.” He laughed a bit at their confusion and patted Kitty on the head. “I needed a break from the lab.”
“Oh.”
He turned to the others and held a hand up in greeting. “Salutations. I’m sorry to have met you all under these…circumstances. Clark, you did well to bring him in.”
“Someone want to clue the rest of us in?” Dick asked. “How do you know Clark? More importantly…what happened to Bruce?”
Hank adjusted his glassed. “Well, it’s quite…anticlimactic. You see-“
This was worse than the time he’d been lain out and left to recuperate alone in the Watchtower medic ward. He’d been wrapped up and made to lie still, but at least he could talk back to the smarmy mouthed people he called comrades in arms.
Right now his mouth was sore and full of gauze, not from a night of binge drinking but from having two teeth PULLED. It might have been vain, but he was seriously thanking the higher powers that it was teeth he didn’t have to show. However, being subjected to not one, but several people in his room including the two people he didn’t want to see…
Bruce Wayne was not a happy man.
Ray Palmer resisted snickering a bit. This would be even payback for the many times he’d told Bruce NOT to move…especially that last little stunt a few years back involving a toxic monster and having to team up with a…flamboyant Aquaman. He still had nightmares about those toxin germs.*(1)
Hank prodded at the machinery a bit to make sure everything was working. “She slapped…one of the fillings out of his teeth…and that coupled with an infection he had brewing from an open sore in his mouth created an abscess….which was infected quickly,” he explained. “So he lost the first and second molars on the top right side, basically from former injuries that resulted in fracture. She…just helped it along.”
“Now maybe he will STAY STILL,” Ray snapped. He meant it in good humor, but there was a warning behind the look he was giving him. “You’re lucky I hop between fields. Otherwise some other crackpot would have cracked your jaw open.”
Bruce rolled his eyes and regretted it. The pain meds were there, but they weren’t really kicking in. He was still conscious, and highly aware of the others looking at him from within or outside the room. Shayera, Diana, Kitty, Tim, Bobby, John, and Wally waved at him from behind the glass. Bruce waved back, forcing back a smarmy grin and the urge to flip them off. They couldn’t hide their amusement no more than they could hide their worry. There was more to this little diagnosis than he would have liked to acknowledge, but the damage was done, and would increase once Clark found out just how bad this was.
He closed his eyes, avoiding the concerned gazes of his rescuer and his eldest standing side by side. They were the only ones in here aside the doctors. Clark had been invited in by Hank and Dick shoved his way in before the door could close. The young man looked like he’d seen several ghosts, staring at Bruce in that bed and hooked up to several different devices. The gears were turning, and Bruce dreaded the outburst Dick would have. The young man was smarter than given credit for. Dick knew there was something deeper to all this…but what would he say?
“There is another matter of concern, however,” Hank said turning to Clark. “You know my field of study…and you know who I deal with.”
“How is the professor?” Clark asked.
“Excellent as always. Xavier sends his regards. If I’m right, and I usually am, you saw something when you checked his injuries,” Hank said. Clark hesitated before nodding, biting his lip in an effort not to grind the handles of the chair he was sitting in. “Yes well…you were right to bring him in when you did. Otherwise…this could have been bad.”
“What?” Dick asked. “What could have been bad? And why is he hooked up to an EKG?”
Ray patted him on the shoulder lightly. “It’s all right. We’re just monitoring him, to make sure that what we saw isn’t as bad as it looks.”
“He’s scheduled for an ECHO later,” Hank said. “It seems that Mr. Wayne here is experiencing tachycardia arrhythmias so subtle that it doesn’t register when normal tests are performed. However, these subtle disruptions have the potential to become more noticeable…especially if he engages in high stress related functions.”
Dick rubbed the back of his head. “In English?”
“He’s a walking heart attack.”
Hank ignored the pale look Dick was sporting and focused on the paperwork in his hands. He’d seen that look once too often for him not to be used to it. He’d baby him in a moment, after he explained just what was going on. “I must admit, Mr. Wayne here is a fine specimen, nearly perfect if one were to assess his reflexes, skills, and normal pattern of movement…it supersedes all expectations and nearly puts him at a level close to that of someone non-human. Typically humans like this have and Achilles heel…and it happens to be Mr. Wayne’s heart.”
“I-it’s not failing…right?” Dick stammered. “I mean…he’s as healthy as a horse!”
“Actually he’s a little healthier than a horse if it had worms,” Ray said.
“No…it’s not failing,” Hank reassured. “But, his heart is fighting to keep up with the best of them, and pumping out more and more to heal what is injured over and over. In other words, his heart can’t keep up with the demands of his body…and his liver is singing a whole different tune.”
Many nights being a little off of your rocker would do that to the best of them. Bruce grumbled through the gauze in his mouth and sighed mentally. He could already hear the oncoming lecture from the big man in charge. He’d heard it often enough to have the general version of it burned into his ears and the words flowing through his mind the longer he thought about it. He glimpsed in Clark’s direction, expecting to see the man’s jaw set and clenching from the effort of not cursing him out then and there. He was quite surprised to find nothing else but genuine worry, and concern where usually there was none. At least…none that he’d noticed before.
Maybe…maybe he was-maybe he could hope…a little?
“No worries son,” Hank said clapping Dick on the shoulder. “He just needs an extended leave…and to be MORE CAREFUL from now on. He’ll be fine. Now…let’s go talk to the others, shall we?”
Dick nodded numbly, following the gentle urges of Ray and Hank to place him outside of the door where everyone else was waiting. They followed and closed the door gently behind them. The soft click was the trigger to snap Clark out of his light daze and refocus his attention back on Bruce watching him. Bruce knew what was coming. Clark knew it too.
“Bruce….you’re off the roster for as long as it takes to heal completely,” Clark said softly. “I’m sorry…”
Bruce nodded a bit. He expected Clark to up and leave, but again he was surprised to see him move and redirect himself on the edge of his bed. A warm hand placed itself on his folded arms and he closed his eyes as Clark’s forehead touched his own.
“You are too…important,” Clark said gently. “Too important to too many people…and we would mourn deeply if you die needlessly. Just…think of it as a vacation. I’ll…just go home…and try to fix things-”
No!
“-and leave you alone to heal properly. But…thank you for listening to me. You were always good for that.”
He was going to leave. Wait, he hadn’t been there but two nights. But, the man was going to leave! It was too soon! Wait, what was too soon? It wasn’t as if…and then the man was just still hurting from being left…but he couldn’t go!
That would be the medicine kicking in and making his inner child vocal. He grunted his displeasure, because his inner pouting child, once again, was right.
Bruce did the only thing he could do. He lunged at him, enfolding him in his arms and clinging as if the man were dying. This would have choked a normal person. For Clark, it threw him off balance and left him feeling…rather warm.
“D…don’t…go…”
“Bruce??”
Bruce tried again, wincing from the pain of moving his jaw but determined to make his self heard. “Don’t….Go…” he said again. “…S-stay.” Okay, now the medicine was making his jaw slack. The pain was dulling, but making words that weren’t slurred was going to be a little more than difficult. Impossible would be a better term. Yeah.
“W-what?”
“Haaaank….said….I needed….a babysitter…You….”
“Me?! I-I-can’t-“
He pulled away from Clark and tapped him on the cheek much like he had at the wedding, smiling a little. Okay, the medicine was making him dopey now. Not much longer until La-La Land came about. “Suuure….you can.”
“No…I can’t-“
“….Don’t trust anyone…else…like you. Please…just….stay.”
The darkness was winning. He grasped at consciousness a little harder, but in the end, the doctors won. He slipped into the waiting pain-free coma, his face burying itself into Clark’s warm neck and going slack from exhaustion. Clark gently eased him back into the waiting pillows, smiling softly at the sure sound of a strong heart beating beneath him. He smoothed the silken locks of black out of his eyes and tried not to stare at the handprint of his soon to be ex fading from his friend’s right cheek.
Feeling his forehead before had alarmed him, but hearing his heart struggling to work…he hadn’t had time to think about it. He didn’t even realize it was or could be that severe. Bruce was always…always running with the best of them…and it was going to get him killed. It was times like these where he wished Bruce had something to sustain him aside his mission in life to rid the streets of crime.
Outside, the others exchanged glances between them. Even Dick snapped out of his funk long enough to see and realize just what was happening. “Oh…god, not again,” he groaned. “I don’t think I can take another episode of WOE.”
“Oh come on,” Wally said. “We’ve been through three episodes of ‘what not to marry’. Let’s…just see how this pans out.”
“If it pans out,” Tim said. “Bruce is pretty stubborn about things like this…and Clark isn’t the sharpest person when it comes to being obvious.”
Everyone nodded in agreement and continued to stare at them through the glass. Clark was settled next Bruce, watching the man sleep peacefully for the third time in a matter of two days. Perhaps now things would calm themselves down a bit. They deserved a little peace…
“Did anyone tell Clark about the media madness flowing around his apartment?” John asked.
Diana shook her head. “I doubt he knows…it was only last night that my Steve and I heard about the ‘Slap heard round the world’, as they are calling it.”
“Did you think that wasn’t going to happen?” Wally asked. “I mean...the woman slapped one of the world’s richest men in the face at the most public event listed to date!”
Kitty gasped and covered her mouth in shock. “Oh my god…that was HIS wife?!” she cried pointing at Clark. “They’ve got video of it circulating all over the net! Someone from TMZ got footage of it.”
“Already has over a million hits on YouTube,” Bobby said. “She hits hard.”
“Again…why did she slap him??” Diana queried. “I was under the assumption that they were still somewhat friends…”
Nobody really knew. Only Bruce and Lois knew, and they had a feeling that those two were going to remain tight lipped about what happened.
Somewhere over the Atlantic:
Tony was humming something. Steve didn’t recognize the tune, but he knew that Tony humming meant that he was blissfully unaware of the world around him. He was in his own little imaginary world, and he was probably going to do his best to reenact every sordid detail of his fantasy when they touched base with the ground again. Those were usually the best sessions…and Steve sincerely hoped Tony was planning on jumping him the moment they were in their room. If not, Tony wasn’t going to see the light of day for as long as he could keep him glued to the bed.
A soft slap against the back of his head kept him from grinning too much. “Save it for when he get to the island,” Tony smirked.
“Can I help it if I have the world’s sexiest man besides me?”
“Oh…Mr. Rodgers…you certainly know how to flatter someone. That might get you mileage for the Mile High Club Premium.”
“Yeah?”
Tony nodded, easing himself out of his seat and sitting back down in Steve’s waiting lap. They had taken Tony’s private jet to their honeymoon destination, Aruba. Someone had suggested that they go on an Alaskan cruise, and to them that was like telling Steve to go visit his tomb. No. He wanted to go someplace warm, fun, and inviting, and where there wasn’t going to be much trouble asking for them to step in. Nothing in South America, no place overseas, and definitely within reach of the U.S.A. in case something decided to “pop” up. Tony hadn’t been down to the Caribbean for a while, and his home in Aruba seemed like the perfect place to really…consummate…their union.
He smiled wickedly just thinking about two weeks without having to tone it down for the sake of Spidey or Doc Banner when he was relaxed. It seemed that sexual frustration brought out the Hulk as well, and then the questions started.
“HULK WANT TALK TO TIN MAN!”
Tony pulled away from kissing Steve senseless and looked down at his communicator. “You can’t be serious,” he muttered. “I thought I turned this thing off!”
There was a bit of static, and then the high pitched whine of a monitor came on and greeted them with several faces. Tony slid out of Steve’s lap, visibly upset that their honeymoon was about to be cut short. Steve kissed the side of his head, ignoring the gag Spiderman was making.
“Please tell me you’re just calling to wish us a Happy Honeymoon,” Tony said. “That the world isn’t ending and that I’m still one of the richest men in the world.”
Spiderman snorted through his mask and pushed a grinning and waving Hulk out of sight with his foot. “Oh? You’re one of the richest men in the world huh? Can I get better healthcare benefits? I’m in a really dangerous line of work with a guy in a suit, a powerhouse, radiating anger, and a man who shrinks…did I mention that I have a good chance to be punctured? WHOA!”
Steve shook his head at Logan retracting his claws and shoving Spiderman over a bit. Spiderman moved, but settled for squatting on the mutants head and waving. Hulk’s hand was still waving in the back.
“Hey, bub…yer friend is on the front page of tomorrow’s news paper,” he said. “Bug-breath here caught tomorrow’s edition…snuck a copy home fer us.”
“I submitted the wedding photos and Jameson nearly kissed me. I swear, being gay is like…catching,” Spiderman said. “Next thing I know, I’ll be hitched to Flash Thompson and getting married on the 50 yard line.”
Tony was a bit stunned to find that one of his friends made the front page of the Daily Bugle. “I thought my wedding would have at least a week before something knocked it out,” he said. “Must be something serious.”
“Oh…it’s serious all right,” Logan said. “As in Bruce Wayne being slapped by Lois Lane.”
Spiderman chuckled a bit. “Wayne vs. Lane. The Global went to town with that.”
Tony, billionaire genius and all time inventor, let his head fall back as he smacked his head. “Oh nooooo.”
“People are calling it the ‘slap heard round the world’, you know,” Henry said. He was about the size of an action figure, but visible and sharing what looked to be a piece of a cookie with one of his ant buddies. “Never paid much attention to that sort of stuff…but the viral video was in my email.”
“Viral video?” Steve asked.
“It’s something that spreads quickly over the web, dear,” Tony explained. “It means a lot have watched it, downloaded it, and sent it out. WHO sent it to you Henry?”
The small man took another bite of his treat and pointed. “Spidey.”
“I found it on YouTube,” Spiderman said. “And…I snagged a copy of the video from a source that belongs to another paper. Hacking never felt sooo good.”
“And,” Logan said, “It looks like your buddy is in the hospital. We, meaning bug-boy, heard it through the grape vine. Hank confirmed it…said Bruce needed a babysitter.”
Tony went from groaning to rubbing his hands in devilish delight. “A babysitter, huh? I know just the perfect man for the job…and he won’t say no.” He quickly reached into Steve’s pocket and grabbed the cell phone sitting in the front pocket. Another gag was ignored from Spiderman. He magically made the phone come to life, and he could hear Hulk asking about it as he looked for one number in particular.
“Babe…what are you-“
Tony shushed him and placed the phone to his ear. A ring and then - “Daily Planet, Perry White speaking. How can I be of service?”
“Perry White. Tony Stark.”
He heard the older man groan inwardly before he heard it aloud. “Oh god…Mr. Stark, I am so sorry about-“
“Perry, can I call you Perry? Look, I’m not calling for retribution or anything of the like,” he explained. “In fact, I just heard about it. But that’s not why I’m calling you.”
“It’s not?”
“No. Actually…I have a favor to ask…and no, it doesn’t involve firing Lois Lane.”
“…then why else are you calling me?”
Tony smirked into the receiver. “I need a babysitter.”
“What?!”
Clark stared in disbelief at his phone. Perry was on the other line, and from what he’d just been told, he wasn’t going back home anytime soon.
It had only been about two hours since he’d decided to let Bruce sleep in peace. Even then he hovered around the area, listening for any changes in the man that had passed out happily thanks to a doctor’s cocktail as Hank had put it. He was going to be out for a little while, forcing him to rest when he usually wouldn’t. The rest of the founding members had gone off to continue the rest of their day, leaving him alone with Dick, Tim, Kitty, and Bobby. The Teens eventually decided that they’d waited around enough, and took off for an impromptu tour of Gotham with their tour guide as Tim. Dick decided it was best for everyone if he tagged along and made sure they didn’t get in trouble…and it would be nice to revisit a ghost from his past.
So Clark was left alone, feeling a little lost, tired, and dangerously close to thinking about what Bruce said.
Then his phone rang.
“Perry…you can’t be serious! I can’t-“
“You can and you will!” the voice over the other line exclaimed. “It was a request, and I sincerely do not need a backlash like we got when video of your wife smacking Bruce Wayne, THE OWNER of the PLANET mind you, got out!”
“Excuse me?!”
“Jeez, where have you been?! Your apartment is a breeding ground for paparazzi. Everyone is wondering why that slap happened, and frankly I want to know myself! But she isn’t talking…hell, she isn’t even here!”
“She’s not there?? Is she okay?”
“Lois is a tough old bird. Don’t tell her I said that,” Perry laughed softly. “She can take care of herself. I thought she would have told you…or…is the other hash around the cooler true?”
Clark pinched the bridge of his nose. He felt a massive headache coming on. “Yeah…it’s true,” he murmured. “I don’t know what’s what anymore chief…and is Stark MAD?!”
Perry laughed a little louder and shook his head. Not that Clark could see it, but he felt it. “I thought he was…but it makes sense,” he said. “You know there is a lot going on with the registration act. Attacks are being launched into variant cities. The MRD is starting to surface everywhere, including Gotham. You can get a first hand look, while…babysitting. Okay?”
“But-“
“You still get paid…and you really don’t want to go to your apartment. Serious circus media.”
Clark sighed and resigned himself to the inevitable. There was no getting out of this. “Okay…okay. I’ll…babysit him,” he sighed. “But-“
“Great! Arrangements have been made. Call Alfred Pennyworth, the butler. Jarvis has already spoken with him regarding your stay and Stark’s impending visit in two weeks.”
“Tony’s coming HERE?!”
“Of course. What? There are friends in high places my boy. Not every billionaire is Lex Luthor. Now, do as I say and make sure you check in with me before close tonight. All right? Oh…and son?”
“Hm?”
There was a slight pause on the other line, as if he was fighting for the right thing to say. He exhaled very quietly and said, “If you need me…need to talk….well, I’m here. Okay?”
“Sure Perry…bye.”
He could give it to the old man. He knew what buttons to push and when to push them. It only sucked because he heard the sincerity behind the words offered, and he REALLY wanted to talk to someone about all this. Rubbing his temples with his hands, he absently walked back to the room where Bruce lay unconscious.
He pressed his hands to the window, looked at the prone body, and almost…ALMOST…whined.
“This…is going to be the longest few weeks of my life…” he muttered. No one but the walls and an elderly lady passing by heard him. For her effort, she patted him on the back.