The ONE
Title: The ONE (6/12)
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: 4,211
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.
Okay here's the second half. Things got...complicated this weekend. :) Part seven up tomorrow!
( 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: Reality Television is Overrated )
( Chapter 6a: Law and Order is NOT Court TV )
Chapter 6/12:
Law& Order is NOT Court TV
Part 2: Real Judges don't have a mallet
“She’s WHAT?!”
“Suing me…” Bruce muttered. “For defamation of character…emotional stress…and for medical bills regarding her hospitalization in regards to the night she was disturbed.”
Clark snatched the papers from Bruce’s hands and scanned them for himself. The policemen that had appeared outside were indeed here for Bruce, but they were accompanied with a lawyer that belonged to his Second Ex-wife Angela. They hadn’t heard anything from her before she was dragged out of there by her new husband and her father, but apparently she was getting sober enough to make him pay for her embarrassment at the wedding reception. Clark tossed the papers on the table in disgust.
“It’ll never hold up,” Clark murmured. “She can’t get away with this!”
“Yes she can…because she’s a woman,” Bruce mumbled. “Jeez…this is what happens when you think with your dick.”
“Bruce!”
Bruce gave him that pointed look. The one that said he really didn’t want to say what he was saying, but at the moment he was feeling no pain and no chance to keep his inhibitions to himself. Clark had made sure he’d taken his meds this morning, and now the side effect of a talkative mouth was on the loose. Bruce shrugged in that manner of, “live with it because you helped create it.” He got a “it’s your fault that it was created” look from his “babysitter”, but it was ignored and left to fester at the back of his head.
Clark groaned silently to himself and prepped his ears for “man” talk.
“What?! I’m just saying…she’s like…on the top THREE.” Bruce said.
“She’s that good?” another asked. “She ranks that high?”
Mr. Billionaire, meet the man of every woman’s wet dream. Bruce hadn’t taken much notice to Logan’s looks at the wedding, but here in the manor that belonged to him, he was wondering if he had a piece of artwork imported from some foreign land. Logan was indeed one of those rouge looking men who appeared in Lumberjack weekly, but in that way that made him mysterious and alluring to those who didn’t know him well. Bruce certainly didn’t know him well, but if he weren’t hung up on someone else and Logan wasn’t attached…
Logan smirked a little. He knew that look well. He shoved his hands in his pockets for a moment and came closer to the couch. “Yer a few years too late,” he said easily. “But…It woulda been nice.”
Bruce smiled slightly at the grinning man. His light actions said more than words could have. A few years ago, he might have been offended. A few days ago he might have offered the man a drink. A few hours ago, he might not have cared. Right now, however, his brain wasn’t in a calculating mode.
“Yeah…it would have. And yeah…she’s that good.”
Logan leaned on the edge of the couch, grinning insanely at the mention of Bruce’s top three. It was a known fact that all lovers were held in ranking, and if he married someone that good, the woman had to have been a near lunatic…or too good to be true.
“I think that was her only talent,” Bruce mentioned. “I should have known she got a lot of practice in…”
“So she’s number three? Who’s number two?” Logan smirked. “Already know who will be yer numbah one…”
Bruce rolled his eyes and cursed Tony silently. Did he have to spill everything?! “…..let’s just say…he’s good. REAL good…and not many women know just how good he is.”
Okay, was his hearing going? Clark blinked and knew that his hearing was pitch perfect because he could hear the teens giggling about something in the other room. So, Bruce had said ‘he’, as in MALE.
Bruce had been with a man…and he ranked in his top three?! Somehow knowing this didn’t make the itch he suddenly felt any better. That itch that he felt when another man looked at his wife in that manner and he wanted to show him just how big his fist was. Yet…why was he feeling this way? But damn it if that itch was not there for the man who managed to get that high in ratings!
Bruce and Logan’s conversation a moment ago seemed to make sense now, and for all the money in the world he didn’t know WHY he wanted to shove Logan somewhere deep in the earth and forget him.
“So...since when did you…pitch into the other field?” Clark asked as calmly as he knew how. If he tried to be any cooler about it there would be ice cubes falling from his lips. “You never mentioned it…”
“In between relationships, doesn’t much matter who it is,” Logan supplied when Bruce didn’t answer. “As long as they warm yer bed long enough to take the edge off. It’s a Fact of nature that can’t be stopped. Being as old as me, I’ve scanned the spectrum…and right now, Remy’s numbah one through ten.”
“….do you…have an issue with my swinging?” Bruce asked Clark when he didn’t reply.
Clark gave him a dirty look and nearly knocked him over. “Do I look like I care?”
“I don’t know…do you?”
“Pffft. You act like you’re the only one who swings to the left. Just about everyone these days is batting left. John is the epitome of swinging to the FAR left. I mean…he was dating Vixen and Shayera at one point.”
“That include you?” Logan asked.
“Not that it’s any of your business, but yeah…it does.” So eat that mister I have knives in my fists. “Wait. Why are we talking about this?! Don’t we have other business to discuss??”
“Don’t know about you…but I know I got something to discuss with Brucie boy here.”
“He stays,” Bruce said. “Clark is a part of it too.”
“Oh? How?”
Clark smiled tightly, removed his glasses from his face and calmly said, “I was the original when it came to putting a hole in your head with your eyes.”
It didn’t take a genius to know when he was beat. Logan threw his hands up and laughed, quickly rounding the couch and plopping down on the edge of the coffee table. “One eye would disagree with ya…but that explains why you smell like the sun,” he said. “Never thought I’d meet the man o’ steel like this…but yeah, you are a part of it.”
“Can you not let anyone else know?” Clark asked.
“I’m good at keepin’ secrets.”
“Good. So tell us about this MRD and why they’re in my city,” Bruce growled.
Logan had to look at the man twice. He’d seen people flip before, but that had to be the quickest 180 he’d seen since that whole Phoenix nonsense. Clark sighed and shook his head, waving Logan away from staring too long at Bruce grimacing at the thought of his city. “Don’t mind him. The meds are making him act funnier than usual,” he explained. “Oof!”
Bruce pulled his good arm away from Clark’s side. “Like that hurt,” he muttered. “I think I cracked something…”
“It’s your own damn fault,” Clark chided. He plucked Bruce’s good arm from him and gave it a once over. “If’ you’d just sit still and not move, and NOT hit me, you’d be perfect.”
“Not hitting you would mean you’re the boss. You’re not the boss of me.”
“No, Alfred is, and I’ll tell him you want that Bran Oatmeal for lunch if you don’t behave."
“I blame your mother.”
“Blame yourself. She likes you. You’re fine.”
He gave Bruce back his arm and settled back on the couch. Bruce sat back as well, moving closer to Clark and leaning on his shoulder. “Let me know if I’m drifting,” Bruce sighed. Clark nodded, already prepping himself to remember anything and everything Logan had to say.
Logan smiled slightly at the two of them. It was going to be interesting watching them get a clue.
A little later:
“So they’re setting up a base of operations here in Gotham?” Dick asked. “Well, that’s nice…”
Tim snorted and promptly smacked Dick in his side. “Nitwit. You know Bludhaven is a breeding ground for this as well,” he said.
“Who says you don’t have them running around now?” Barbara asked. “Anyone could be one…you don’t know who’s who and what’s what anymore.”
The three of them sat at the table discussing the plans that had been lain out for the next couple of weeks. Clark, Bruce, and Logan had talked it out, and it was agreed that a small group of several X-men could come into Gotham and search for any underground activities involving rogue mutants. Logan preferred to scope things out himself, but the look Clark gave him Remynded him too much of his own waiting on him back at the school. Bruce had shrugged at him helplessly. It wasn’t happening.
He still had to alert the Avengers on what was going on, and let them know that he wouldn’t be available for a little while. So Logan had gone off to make a few phone calls and arrangements while Clark and Bruce settled on the details of the operation.
Basically put: Bruce wasn’t getting in on it…physically.
“You can handle operations with Oracle, but nothing else,” Clark said as they walked into the room. Bruce rolled his eyes, leaning on Clark a little more as they made it into the kitchen. He could had easily limped his way in here all by himself, but Clark insisted that he didn’t add any more weight to his hip. It only added fuel to his fired up decision of leaving Batman at home for the duration.
“What’s this about operations with moi?” Barbara asked. “Something going on?”
“Logan is going to have a team here in Gotham for a few weeks,” Clark explained. “He wanted to talk to Bruce, get his permission. Seems Stark told him in confidence about who Bruce was when he plays dress up.”
“Oh Ha ha, laugh it up Red Speedo,” Bruce snorted. He eased his way out of his grip and gingerly sat down in a waiting chair with an accompanying cushion. “I don’t think anyone else has can deflect bullets from his cock.”
“And that would be the second pill kicking in,” Clark muttered. Alfred chose that moment to sweep in and place a glass of water in front of Bruce. Next to it was a bowl of melon that had been cut, sliced, refrigerated, and pulled out just in time for his mid-morning snack. Bruce sighed inwardly and eyed it. Was it normal to want something unusually fattening right about now? Like cake? Or pie?
“At least it’s Cantaloupe this time,” Dick mentioned. “And it’s sweet.”
On top of being medicated for the infection and the pain, Hank had ordered him to eat properly and more frequently than he had been. Hank had sent Alfred a list of things he could and could not have, and the Bran Oatmeal was getting dangerously close to being served. It seemed his weight had been creeping up as well, not that he really cared at this point because, hell, who was he trying to impress?!
Fingers that didn’t belong to him plucked a piece from the bowl. Clark popped it in his mouth easily, leaving his index finger between his lips and humming in delight. “Wow…that’s good,” he murmured. He completely missed the dried mouth gaping of one Bruce Wayne, eyeing him in complete disbelief. Clark plucked another piece for himself and sat down aside him. “You going to eat or do I have to feed you too?”
He seemed to be patting Clark’s cheek a lot lately. He did so, smiling darkly at the man brightly smirking at him. “Would you? I think both of my hands are broken.”
“Aw….poor baby.”
“Yes…poor me.”
“Eat.”
“Fine. Fine.”
And just like that, Bruce was devouring fruit. Not cake, not pie, not a scone, but fruit. He would have fought tooth and nail for it a few days ago, but he’d mellowed out a good bit. It must be the meds. Either way, mission accomplished.
Barbara looked at Dick. Dick shook his head. Tim sat back and muttered to himself about how there was another season of “WOE” coming on.
“Weren’t…we talking about something else?” Barbara asked. “Can we…get back to that?”
“Get back to what? Oh, how my eldest child is marrying the heir to the arrowhead, and how I’ve just agreed to let another team into my city and I can’t even get in on the action unless it’s through a radio? Or…would you rather talk about my getting served papers to be sued for an emotionally disturbed woman? No wait…let’s talk about how I am a virtual GIMP and how I’m not allowed to move on my own, how I’ve been reduced to eating MELON when I WANT CAKE, and how I am currently single, divorced, alone in this manor, and how I have one freaking friend who doesn’t even realize just how much I---aw shit.”
Where in the hell did that come from? Bruce looked at his melon, his fingers, and then back at the table. Okay, things were getting weird now. He’d been thinking about the possible tactics of whatever plans would be lain for any missions at night, going over the schematics of several machines in his head and the lay of the city where activity was probably. Barbara had said something…and then…
“Did…I just…have an emotional episode??” Bruce mused. “I did…oh god, I did…oh shit…”
“Did…you want to lie down?” Clark asked.
“Yes! Lying down would be good…it would be great!”
Logan chose that moment to walk in. He rubbed his head wearily, temple aching from the mental invasion he had only a moment ago. Xavier was never one for talking on the phone, but lengthy conversations tended to make his head hurt. He wasn’t the thinking inwardly type. Bobby and Kitty were behind him, looking in on the commotion Logan didn’t seem to notice.
“It’s settled,” he sighed. “Me, Kitty, Bobby, Gambit, Storm, and One Eye will be here for the duration.”
“Are you okay Logan??” Tim asked.
“I’m fine Kid. Prof just paid me a visit in my head. Psychic types always give me a headache.”
Clark blinked. “Xavier…contacted you?? Oh god…”
Logan shrugged a little. “Yeah…what’s the matter?”
“Bruce is on meds that make him loopy…and the residual energies from a psychic as powerful as the Professor cracked his mental barriers…”
“He just blurted out his innermost thoughts, didn’t he.”
“In a manner of speaking…”
Bruce really didn’t hear any of it. His mind was on something else…something he’d been meaning to do for quite some time. Why this thought was so strong now was still a mystery to him, but he had to do it. It was meant to be done. Without the slightest bit of warning, he was up on his feet and dragging Clark by his wrist into the living room. Clark let himself be dragged, right until they were facing the couch that had been with them since the beginning of this cycle.
Bruce pointed at it. “Burn it.”
“What?”
“What part of that didn’t you understand?! BURN IT. I don’t want it in here!”
“Bruce…calm-“
“Calm?! CALM?! I AM CALM!! Why can’t you just BURN the damned thing?!” he screamed. “It’s all her fault! All of it! Just…get rid of it! Take it away, I don’t want to SEE IT!!”
“Bruce!”
“Don’t you see?! I-if I hadn’t have married her…if would have…oh god, you went away! You went away from me and I didn’t want you to leave me!”
Clark stepped forward a little. Bruce leapt back as if he’d been lit on fire, torn between staring at the couch and fighting with what he was going to say. His thoughts were everywhere. There was no clear consciousness or line of thought for him to hold onto, but Clark was there…standing there sturdy; like that infallible rock that wouldn’t bend to the winds of change. He latched onto that image, and his heart lurched painfully.
“Bruce…”
“Everyone…leaves….they always leave-a-and, it’s not like I want them too, they just do! I don’t…I can’t….I don’t want you to leave…”
“I’m not going anywhere…”
“BULLSHIT!! You’re only HERE because TONY asked!! Because LOIS broke your heart!! Not for me…never for me! You are…no one…is…I can’t…no one loves…how--?!”
Bruce gripped the sides of his head, feeling something slip. It fell away and left him raw, aching with everything he could possibly feel at the moment. His head hurt…his heart hurt even more, staring at the man who regarded him as nothing more than a friend. He gripped his chest and shook his head, fighting off whatever was causing him to be like this. It wouldn’t let go. It held on a little longer, and he screamed as everything threatened to overwhelm him.
“Bruce!!”
“….Clark….please…” Bruce breathed, grasping for air he couldn’t quite keep, “Please…please…”
He went to him, buried his head against his shoulder, and held on to Bruce as tightly as he could without hurting him. Bruce folded into his embrace, fists grasping his shirt as the tears fell and soaked their resting grounds. The others, standing in the hallway and peering in, couldn’t hear the gentle pleas being said against the fabric of his shirt. But Clark could, and he felt the earth move in several directions.
“Please love me…please love me….please just love me…”
At the Xavier School:
Professor Charles Xavier opened his eyes and looked around him. He was still in his head office, sitting at the window and facing the morning sun. However, for the strangest reason, he had the uncontrollable urge for melon. Cantaloupe of all things. He thought about inquiring if they had any, but the doors to his office opened and allowed three members of his team to approach his desk. He could ask later, when he was done briefing them on what was happening.
“Ah, Scott, Ororo, and Remy….good timing, as usual.”
“You wanted to see us Professor?” Scott Summers asked.
“Yes…I just spoke to Logan,” Xavier explained. “He’s been allowed to scout out the area with a team. Kitty and Bobby are already there, so I’m sending you three to aide him.”
“Remy git ta see the city of Gotham at night?” Remy mused. “Oh…dis should be interesting.”
“Quite. I heard that Gotham was quite the city at night…and not always in a good light,” Ororo said.
“Dat rhymed!”
“Did it? I suppose someone’s rubbing off on me.”
Scott rolled his eyes behind his visor at their giggling. He was already dreading the fact that that he had to go to the city where that character “The Batman” was said to dwell. He really didn’t want to have a run in with that guy if he could help it. Seriously, what guy in his right frame of mind would willingly go out at night and fight crime? Wasn’t there enough issues in the world?
“You know…every person wears a mask,” Xavier said gently. “And they wear a mask for a reason. If you were to meet this man, you’d see the mask, but not the man.”
“Yes well…let’s hope that the man isn’t insane under the mask,” Scott murmured. “Got a lot of those already.”
“And that would be Scott’s attempt at being funny,” Ororo observed. Remy snickered quietly at her side, ignoring the glare he was getting from behind those red lenses. “I think someone is rubbing off on him as well. Should we tell Logan?”
“Logan will never believe it. Remy don believe it much himself,” Remy said. “Hey, you think we may run into that clown person?”
“The Joker? Pfft, I hope for his sake that we don’t,” Scott snorted. “Clowns are creepy.”
That was silent code for ‘I would blast him into kingdom come if he were to be within ten feet of me’. Remy and Ororo were certain of it, because the stoic Scott Summers couldn’t get a grip on certain fears when exposed to them. Which was why no one dressed up as a clown when Halloween. Not after that…incident.
Xavier shook his head smiling at them, and gestured for them to get going. “But before you do,” he said before they could leave his office, “Does anyone know if we have Cantaloupe?”
Back at the Manor:
“Not that I’m a genius at it, but I believe that was a long time coming…” Logan mused. “I doubt he’ll remember, but I’d keep an eye on him.”
Clark nodded numbly, still staring at the face that had half buried itself in the pillows he clutched. Bruce’s hands were red from the blood flowing back into his fingers. He’d clung to his shirt so tightly; Clark now had permanent wrinkles in it. His shoulder was still damp from the tears, and it ached and burned from the memories and reasons behind every drop shed. Bruce had passed out not long afterward, but the damage was done. Everything he felt beneath that brick wall he called his emotional armor had come tumbling out in broken sentences…
Clark buried his face in his hands, absently noting that Logan had left them alone in Bruce’s room. If the man had just taken care of himself…if he hadn’t been so damn absorbed in feeling sorry for himself…
If he would have noticed…how Bruce was feeling…
It didn’t matter. None of it changed a damn thing. Bruce was still in the bed clinging to his pillow; his tear soaked face red and tired from pretending that all of it was normal. Nothing about this was normal, and Clark had been the one to enable his act. He should have gotten a clue after wife number two, but he believed that Bruce would eventually find someone who loved him for him. He had been happy. He’d been lucky to find someone like that, and Bruce deserved that much.
Yet now; now Clark was the one with those damning papers downstairs waiting for him to sign. Now he was the one trying to think back on where it all went wrong, and how his own happiness had blinded him to the several truths he’d ignored unintentionally. Bruce was the one crying into his pillow, was the one being served papers for a woman who’d probably never knew what love was unless it was attached to money. Sued. SUED by that …artificial cow…because of a dress!! Slapped by Lois of all people, for reasons no one understood, and the one lying in this bed…
“Stop brooding so fucking loud,” Bruce muttered. “You’re keeping me awake.”
Clark somehow found it in him to smile a bit. “I think…you should go back to sleep.”
“Can’t…something’s bothering you.”
There were a million and one things bothering him, but right now, none of that mattered. He reached out and took one of Bruce’s hands into his own, tightening his hold when Bruce managed to squeeze his fingers back. Bruce wasn’t sick. He wasn’t dying. But he was a mess, and Clark was a bigger mess. It was called denial, and they’d been swimming in it for far too long.
“If…you promise…to let me…help you,” Clark said quietly, “I promise…I’ll be here when you need me.”
Several things passed in his eyes, and the slight hope brightened his skeptical gaze. Logan said that he might not remember, but somehow, a mind like Bruce’s didn’t forget much. He knew what happened, and he knew what he was trying to say, and Clark wasn’t holding it against him. He didn’t show him an ounce of pity, or an inkling of awkwardness. He just was…and he had said it before. He was his friend.
Perhaps his only friend.
“Help me…how?” he asked.
“Well…we can start with the cow and her claim of emotional distress,” Clark smirked lightly. “We can counter sue, and I’m sure her precious daddy isn’t up to the scrutiny of being investigated because he can’t control his temper.”
“….you’ve been hanging around me too long.”
“That…isn’t a bad thing. Two: Let me help with this investigation. I promise not to do too much damage to Gotham. I’m sure Metropolis could use a break from the building fees.”
Bruce laughed a little and actually nodded his consent. “Okay. And number three?”
“And three,” Clark continued, moving a little closer, “Let me help fix this. I come crying to you…and somehow you manage to take all this damage. Well…not anymore. It’s my turn to fix things…and I’m going to start by doing what you asked.”
“And…what’s that?”
Clark winked, moved forward and placed a kind kiss on Bruce’s forehead. “I’m going to burn that couch.”
And afterward…he had some papers to sign. He’d been holding on long enough. He gave Bruce’s hand another squeeze and stayed with him until exhaustion pulled him back under the veil of sleep. Even then he was reluctant to leave, but there were things to do, and people to see.
He knew it was going to be weird, more than weird, but he had to find Lois.
And then he had to call John.
Dun dun dun....confessions and confrontations...and a bit of SEX in the next chapter. Feedback is welcome!
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: 4,211
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.
Okay here's the second half. Things got...complicated this weekend. :) Part seven up tomorrow!
( 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: Reality Television is Overrated )
( Chapter 6a: Law and Order is NOT Court TV )
Chapter 6/12:
Law& Order is NOT Court TV
Part 2: Real Judges don't have a mallet
“She’s WHAT?!”
“Suing me…” Bruce muttered. “For defamation of character…emotional stress…and for medical bills regarding her hospitalization in regards to the night she was disturbed.”
Clark snatched the papers from Bruce’s hands and scanned them for himself. The policemen that had appeared outside were indeed here for Bruce, but they were accompanied with a lawyer that belonged to his Second Ex-wife Angela. They hadn’t heard anything from her before she was dragged out of there by her new husband and her father, but apparently she was getting sober enough to make him pay for her embarrassment at the wedding reception. Clark tossed the papers on the table in disgust.
“It’ll never hold up,” Clark murmured. “She can’t get away with this!”
“Yes she can…because she’s a woman,” Bruce mumbled. “Jeez…this is what happens when you think with your dick.”
“Bruce!”
Bruce gave him that pointed look. The one that said he really didn’t want to say what he was saying, but at the moment he was feeling no pain and no chance to keep his inhibitions to himself. Clark had made sure he’d taken his meds this morning, and now the side effect of a talkative mouth was on the loose. Bruce shrugged in that manner of, “live with it because you helped create it.” He got a “it’s your fault that it was created” look from his “babysitter”, but it was ignored and left to fester at the back of his head.
Clark groaned silently to himself and prepped his ears for “man” talk.
“What?! I’m just saying…she’s like…on the top THREE.” Bruce said.
“She’s that good?” another asked. “She ranks that high?”
Mr. Billionaire, meet the man of every woman’s wet dream. Bruce hadn’t taken much notice to Logan’s looks at the wedding, but here in the manor that belonged to him, he was wondering if he had a piece of artwork imported from some foreign land. Logan was indeed one of those rouge looking men who appeared in Lumberjack weekly, but in that way that made him mysterious and alluring to those who didn’t know him well. Bruce certainly didn’t know him well, but if he weren’t hung up on someone else and Logan wasn’t attached…
Logan smirked a little. He knew that look well. He shoved his hands in his pockets for a moment and came closer to the couch. “Yer a few years too late,” he said easily. “But…It woulda been nice.”
Bruce smiled slightly at the grinning man. His light actions said more than words could have. A few years ago, he might have been offended. A few days ago he might have offered the man a drink. A few hours ago, he might not have cared. Right now, however, his brain wasn’t in a calculating mode.
“Yeah…it would have. And yeah…she’s that good.”
Logan leaned on the edge of the couch, grinning insanely at the mention of Bruce’s top three. It was a known fact that all lovers were held in ranking, and if he married someone that good, the woman had to have been a near lunatic…or too good to be true.
“I think that was her only talent,” Bruce mentioned. “I should have known she got a lot of practice in…”
“So she’s number three? Who’s number two?” Logan smirked. “Already know who will be yer numbah one…”
Bruce rolled his eyes and cursed Tony silently. Did he have to spill everything?! “…..let’s just say…he’s good. REAL good…and not many women know just how good he is.”
Okay, was his hearing going? Clark blinked and knew that his hearing was pitch perfect because he could hear the teens giggling about something in the other room. So, Bruce had said ‘he’, as in MALE.
Bruce had been with a man…and he ranked in his top three?! Somehow knowing this didn’t make the itch he suddenly felt any better. That itch that he felt when another man looked at his wife in that manner and he wanted to show him just how big his fist was. Yet…why was he feeling this way? But damn it if that itch was not there for the man who managed to get that high in ratings!
Bruce and Logan’s conversation a moment ago seemed to make sense now, and for all the money in the world he didn’t know WHY he wanted to shove Logan somewhere deep in the earth and forget him.
“So...since when did you…pitch into the other field?” Clark asked as calmly as he knew how. If he tried to be any cooler about it there would be ice cubes falling from his lips. “You never mentioned it…”
“In between relationships, doesn’t much matter who it is,” Logan supplied when Bruce didn’t answer. “As long as they warm yer bed long enough to take the edge off. It’s a Fact of nature that can’t be stopped. Being as old as me, I’ve scanned the spectrum…and right now, Remy’s numbah one through ten.”
“….do you…have an issue with my swinging?” Bruce asked Clark when he didn’t reply.
Clark gave him a dirty look and nearly knocked him over. “Do I look like I care?”
“I don’t know…do you?”
“Pffft. You act like you’re the only one who swings to the left. Just about everyone these days is batting left. John is the epitome of swinging to the FAR left. I mean…he was dating Vixen and Shayera at one point.”
“That include you?” Logan asked.
“Not that it’s any of your business, but yeah…it does.” So eat that mister I have knives in my fists. “Wait. Why are we talking about this?! Don’t we have other business to discuss??”
“Don’t know about you…but I know I got something to discuss with Brucie boy here.”
“He stays,” Bruce said. “Clark is a part of it too.”
“Oh? How?”
Clark smiled tightly, removed his glasses from his face and calmly said, “I was the original when it came to putting a hole in your head with your eyes.”
It didn’t take a genius to know when he was beat. Logan threw his hands up and laughed, quickly rounding the couch and plopping down on the edge of the coffee table. “One eye would disagree with ya…but that explains why you smell like the sun,” he said. “Never thought I’d meet the man o’ steel like this…but yeah, you are a part of it.”
“Can you not let anyone else know?” Clark asked.
“I’m good at keepin’ secrets.”
“Good. So tell us about this MRD and why they’re in my city,” Bruce growled.
Logan had to look at the man twice. He’d seen people flip before, but that had to be the quickest 180 he’d seen since that whole Phoenix nonsense. Clark sighed and shook his head, waving Logan away from staring too long at Bruce grimacing at the thought of his city. “Don’t mind him. The meds are making him act funnier than usual,” he explained. “Oof!”
Bruce pulled his good arm away from Clark’s side. “Like that hurt,” he muttered. “I think I cracked something…”
“It’s your own damn fault,” Clark chided. He plucked Bruce’s good arm from him and gave it a once over. “If’ you’d just sit still and not move, and NOT hit me, you’d be perfect.”
“Not hitting you would mean you’re the boss. You’re not the boss of me.”
“No, Alfred is, and I’ll tell him you want that Bran Oatmeal for lunch if you don’t behave."
“I blame your mother.”
“Blame yourself. She likes you. You’re fine.”
He gave Bruce back his arm and settled back on the couch. Bruce sat back as well, moving closer to Clark and leaning on his shoulder. “Let me know if I’m drifting,” Bruce sighed. Clark nodded, already prepping himself to remember anything and everything Logan had to say.
Logan smiled slightly at the two of them. It was going to be interesting watching them get a clue.
A little later:
“So they’re setting up a base of operations here in Gotham?” Dick asked. “Well, that’s nice…”
Tim snorted and promptly smacked Dick in his side. “Nitwit. You know Bludhaven is a breeding ground for this as well,” he said.
“Who says you don’t have them running around now?” Barbara asked. “Anyone could be one…you don’t know who’s who and what’s what anymore.”
The three of them sat at the table discussing the plans that had been lain out for the next couple of weeks. Clark, Bruce, and Logan had talked it out, and it was agreed that a small group of several X-men could come into Gotham and search for any underground activities involving rogue mutants. Logan preferred to scope things out himself, but the look Clark gave him Remynded him too much of his own waiting on him back at the school. Bruce had shrugged at him helplessly. It wasn’t happening.
He still had to alert the Avengers on what was going on, and let them know that he wouldn’t be available for a little while. So Logan had gone off to make a few phone calls and arrangements while Clark and Bruce settled on the details of the operation.
Basically put: Bruce wasn’t getting in on it…physically.
“You can handle operations with Oracle, but nothing else,” Clark said as they walked into the room. Bruce rolled his eyes, leaning on Clark a little more as they made it into the kitchen. He could had easily limped his way in here all by himself, but Clark insisted that he didn’t add any more weight to his hip. It only added fuel to his fired up decision of leaving Batman at home for the duration.
“What’s this about operations with moi?” Barbara asked. “Something going on?”
“Logan is going to have a team here in Gotham for a few weeks,” Clark explained. “He wanted to talk to Bruce, get his permission. Seems Stark told him in confidence about who Bruce was when he plays dress up.”
“Oh Ha ha, laugh it up Red Speedo,” Bruce snorted. He eased his way out of his grip and gingerly sat down in a waiting chair with an accompanying cushion. “I don’t think anyone else has can deflect bullets from his cock.”
“And that would be the second pill kicking in,” Clark muttered. Alfred chose that moment to sweep in and place a glass of water in front of Bruce. Next to it was a bowl of melon that had been cut, sliced, refrigerated, and pulled out just in time for his mid-morning snack. Bruce sighed inwardly and eyed it. Was it normal to want something unusually fattening right about now? Like cake? Or pie?
“At least it’s Cantaloupe this time,” Dick mentioned. “And it’s sweet.”
On top of being medicated for the infection and the pain, Hank had ordered him to eat properly and more frequently than he had been. Hank had sent Alfred a list of things he could and could not have, and the Bran Oatmeal was getting dangerously close to being served. It seemed his weight had been creeping up as well, not that he really cared at this point because, hell, who was he trying to impress?!
Fingers that didn’t belong to him plucked a piece from the bowl. Clark popped it in his mouth easily, leaving his index finger between his lips and humming in delight. “Wow…that’s good,” he murmured. He completely missed the dried mouth gaping of one Bruce Wayne, eyeing him in complete disbelief. Clark plucked another piece for himself and sat down aside him. “You going to eat or do I have to feed you too?”
He seemed to be patting Clark’s cheek a lot lately. He did so, smiling darkly at the man brightly smirking at him. “Would you? I think both of my hands are broken.”
“Aw….poor baby.”
“Yes…poor me.”
“Eat.”
“Fine. Fine.”
And just like that, Bruce was devouring fruit. Not cake, not pie, not a scone, but fruit. He would have fought tooth and nail for it a few days ago, but he’d mellowed out a good bit. It must be the meds. Either way, mission accomplished.
Barbara looked at Dick. Dick shook his head. Tim sat back and muttered to himself about how there was another season of “WOE” coming on.
“Weren’t…we talking about something else?” Barbara asked. “Can we…get back to that?”
“Get back to what? Oh, how my eldest child is marrying the heir to the arrowhead, and how I’ve just agreed to let another team into my city and I can’t even get in on the action unless it’s through a radio? Or…would you rather talk about my getting served papers to be sued for an emotionally disturbed woman? No wait…let’s talk about how I am a virtual GIMP and how I’m not allowed to move on my own, how I’ve been reduced to eating MELON when I WANT CAKE, and how I am currently single, divorced, alone in this manor, and how I have one freaking friend who doesn’t even realize just how much I---aw shit.”
Where in the hell did that come from? Bruce looked at his melon, his fingers, and then back at the table. Okay, things were getting weird now. He’d been thinking about the possible tactics of whatever plans would be lain for any missions at night, going over the schematics of several machines in his head and the lay of the city where activity was probably. Barbara had said something…and then…
“Did…I just…have an emotional episode??” Bruce mused. “I did…oh god, I did…oh shit…”
“Did…you want to lie down?” Clark asked.
“Yes! Lying down would be good…it would be great!”
Logan chose that moment to walk in. He rubbed his head wearily, temple aching from the mental invasion he had only a moment ago. Xavier was never one for talking on the phone, but lengthy conversations tended to make his head hurt. He wasn’t the thinking inwardly type. Bobby and Kitty were behind him, looking in on the commotion Logan didn’t seem to notice.
“It’s settled,” he sighed. “Me, Kitty, Bobby, Gambit, Storm, and One Eye will be here for the duration.”
“Are you okay Logan??” Tim asked.
“I’m fine Kid. Prof just paid me a visit in my head. Psychic types always give me a headache.”
Clark blinked. “Xavier…contacted you?? Oh god…”
Logan shrugged a little. “Yeah…what’s the matter?”
“Bruce is on meds that make him loopy…and the residual energies from a psychic as powerful as the Professor cracked his mental barriers…”
“He just blurted out his innermost thoughts, didn’t he.”
“In a manner of speaking…”
Bruce really didn’t hear any of it. His mind was on something else…something he’d been meaning to do for quite some time. Why this thought was so strong now was still a mystery to him, but he had to do it. It was meant to be done. Without the slightest bit of warning, he was up on his feet and dragging Clark by his wrist into the living room. Clark let himself be dragged, right until they were facing the couch that had been with them since the beginning of this cycle.
Bruce pointed at it. “Burn it.”
“What?”
“What part of that didn’t you understand?! BURN IT. I don’t want it in here!”
“Bruce…calm-“
“Calm?! CALM?! I AM CALM!! Why can’t you just BURN the damned thing?!” he screamed. “It’s all her fault! All of it! Just…get rid of it! Take it away, I don’t want to SEE IT!!”
“Bruce!”
“Don’t you see?! I-if I hadn’t have married her…if would have…oh god, you went away! You went away from me and I didn’t want you to leave me!”
Clark stepped forward a little. Bruce leapt back as if he’d been lit on fire, torn between staring at the couch and fighting with what he was going to say. His thoughts were everywhere. There was no clear consciousness or line of thought for him to hold onto, but Clark was there…standing there sturdy; like that infallible rock that wouldn’t bend to the winds of change. He latched onto that image, and his heart lurched painfully.
“Bruce…”
“Everyone…leaves….they always leave-a-and, it’s not like I want them too, they just do! I don’t…I can’t….I don’t want you to leave…”
“I’m not going anywhere…”
“BULLSHIT!! You’re only HERE because TONY asked!! Because LOIS broke your heart!! Not for me…never for me! You are…no one…is…I can’t…no one loves…how--?!”
Bruce gripped the sides of his head, feeling something slip. It fell away and left him raw, aching with everything he could possibly feel at the moment. His head hurt…his heart hurt even more, staring at the man who regarded him as nothing more than a friend. He gripped his chest and shook his head, fighting off whatever was causing him to be like this. It wouldn’t let go. It held on a little longer, and he screamed as everything threatened to overwhelm him.
“Bruce!!”
“….Clark….please…” Bruce breathed, grasping for air he couldn’t quite keep, “Please…please…”
He went to him, buried his head against his shoulder, and held on to Bruce as tightly as he could without hurting him. Bruce folded into his embrace, fists grasping his shirt as the tears fell and soaked their resting grounds. The others, standing in the hallway and peering in, couldn’t hear the gentle pleas being said against the fabric of his shirt. But Clark could, and he felt the earth move in several directions.
“Please love me…please love me….please just love me…”
At the Xavier School:
Professor Charles Xavier opened his eyes and looked around him. He was still in his head office, sitting at the window and facing the morning sun. However, for the strangest reason, he had the uncontrollable urge for melon. Cantaloupe of all things. He thought about inquiring if they had any, but the doors to his office opened and allowed three members of his team to approach his desk. He could ask later, when he was done briefing them on what was happening.
“Ah, Scott, Ororo, and Remy….good timing, as usual.”
“You wanted to see us Professor?” Scott Summers asked.
“Yes…I just spoke to Logan,” Xavier explained. “He’s been allowed to scout out the area with a team. Kitty and Bobby are already there, so I’m sending you three to aide him.”
“Remy git ta see the city of Gotham at night?” Remy mused. “Oh…dis should be interesting.”
“Quite. I heard that Gotham was quite the city at night…and not always in a good light,” Ororo said.
“Dat rhymed!”
“Did it? I suppose someone’s rubbing off on me.”
Scott rolled his eyes behind his visor at their giggling. He was already dreading the fact that that he had to go to the city where that character “The Batman” was said to dwell. He really didn’t want to have a run in with that guy if he could help it. Seriously, what guy in his right frame of mind would willingly go out at night and fight crime? Wasn’t there enough issues in the world?
“You know…every person wears a mask,” Xavier said gently. “And they wear a mask for a reason. If you were to meet this man, you’d see the mask, but not the man.”
“Yes well…let’s hope that the man isn’t insane under the mask,” Scott murmured. “Got a lot of those already.”
“And that would be Scott’s attempt at being funny,” Ororo observed. Remy snickered quietly at her side, ignoring the glare he was getting from behind those red lenses. “I think someone is rubbing off on him as well. Should we tell Logan?”
“Logan will never believe it. Remy don believe it much himself,” Remy said. “Hey, you think we may run into that clown person?”
“The Joker? Pfft, I hope for his sake that we don’t,” Scott snorted. “Clowns are creepy.”
That was silent code for ‘I would blast him into kingdom come if he were to be within ten feet of me’. Remy and Ororo were certain of it, because the stoic Scott Summers couldn’t get a grip on certain fears when exposed to them. Which was why no one dressed up as a clown when Halloween. Not after that…incident.
Xavier shook his head smiling at them, and gestured for them to get going. “But before you do,” he said before they could leave his office, “Does anyone know if we have Cantaloupe?”
Back at the Manor:
“Not that I’m a genius at it, but I believe that was a long time coming…” Logan mused. “I doubt he’ll remember, but I’d keep an eye on him.”
Clark nodded numbly, still staring at the face that had half buried itself in the pillows he clutched. Bruce’s hands were red from the blood flowing back into his fingers. He’d clung to his shirt so tightly; Clark now had permanent wrinkles in it. His shoulder was still damp from the tears, and it ached and burned from the memories and reasons behind every drop shed. Bruce had passed out not long afterward, but the damage was done. Everything he felt beneath that brick wall he called his emotional armor had come tumbling out in broken sentences…
Clark buried his face in his hands, absently noting that Logan had left them alone in Bruce’s room. If the man had just taken care of himself…if he hadn’t been so damn absorbed in feeling sorry for himself…
If he would have noticed…how Bruce was feeling…
It didn’t matter. None of it changed a damn thing. Bruce was still in the bed clinging to his pillow; his tear soaked face red and tired from pretending that all of it was normal. Nothing about this was normal, and Clark had been the one to enable his act. He should have gotten a clue after wife number two, but he believed that Bruce would eventually find someone who loved him for him. He had been happy. He’d been lucky to find someone like that, and Bruce deserved that much.
Yet now; now Clark was the one with those damning papers downstairs waiting for him to sign. Now he was the one trying to think back on where it all went wrong, and how his own happiness had blinded him to the several truths he’d ignored unintentionally. Bruce was the one crying into his pillow, was the one being served papers for a woman who’d probably never knew what love was unless it was attached to money. Sued. SUED by that …artificial cow…because of a dress!! Slapped by Lois of all people, for reasons no one understood, and the one lying in this bed…
“Stop brooding so fucking loud,” Bruce muttered. “You’re keeping me awake.”
Clark somehow found it in him to smile a bit. “I think…you should go back to sleep.”
“Can’t…something’s bothering you.”
There were a million and one things bothering him, but right now, none of that mattered. He reached out and took one of Bruce’s hands into his own, tightening his hold when Bruce managed to squeeze his fingers back. Bruce wasn’t sick. He wasn’t dying. But he was a mess, and Clark was a bigger mess. It was called denial, and they’d been swimming in it for far too long.
“If…you promise…to let me…help you,” Clark said quietly, “I promise…I’ll be here when you need me.”
Several things passed in his eyes, and the slight hope brightened his skeptical gaze. Logan said that he might not remember, but somehow, a mind like Bruce’s didn’t forget much. He knew what happened, and he knew what he was trying to say, and Clark wasn’t holding it against him. He didn’t show him an ounce of pity, or an inkling of awkwardness. He just was…and he had said it before. He was his friend.
Perhaps his only friend.
“Help me…how?” he asked.
“Well…we can start with the cow and her claim of emotional distress,” Clark smirked lightly. “We can counter sue, and I’m sure her precious daddy isn’t up to the scrutiny of being investigated because he can’t control his temper.”
“….you’ve been hanging around me too long.”
“That…isn’t a bad thing. Two: Let me help with this investigation. I promise not to do too much damage to Gotham. I’m sure Metropolis could use a break from the building fees.”
Bruce laughed a little and actually nodded his consent. “Okay. And number three?”
“And three,” Clark continued, moving a little closer, “Let me help fix this. I come crying to you…and somehow you manage to take all this damage. Well…not anymore. It’s my turn to fix things…and I’m going to start by doing what you asked.”
“And…what’s that?”
Clark winked, moved forward and placed a kind kiss on Bruce’s forehead. “I’m going to burn that couch.”
And afterward…he had some papers to sign. He’d been holding on long enough. He gave Bruce’s hand another squeeze and stayed with him until exhaustion pulled him back under the veil of sleep. Even then he was reluctant to leave, but there were things to do, and people to see.
He knew it was going to be weird, more than weird, but he had to find Lois.
And then he had to call John.
Dun dun dun....confessions and confrontations...and a bit of SEX in the next chapter. Feedback is welcome!