Stranger in a Strange Land: Culture Shock
Title: Stranger in a Strange Land: Culture Shock
Pairing/Characters: Clark/Bruce, Alfred, Dick, Tim, Barbara
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None
Continuity: Justice League Unlimited
Summary: Kal comes to Wayne Manor to have dinner and meet the rest of the family. Things don't go exactly as expected.
Word Count: 3700
Notes: For a prompt on the
worlds_finest birthday thread: "Krypton doesn't explode until Kal-El is an adult. He arrives on Earth still the last son, but having seen his planet die. To the JLA's surprise, Batman is the one to volunteer to help him." This is the second in the series, after Shared Pain.
"I brought you some Earth clothing," Batman said, holding out the little bundle. Kal glanced down at his Kryptonian robes and brushed his fingers across the diamond-shaped crest sewn across the heart in silver thread. "I'm sorry," Batman said to the sadness in his eyes, "But you'll stand out way too much in those. The League has told the military that we're keeping you here until we're sure you're not dangerous."
"Do you often lie to your military?" Kal asked as he took the neatly-folded clothes from Bruce.
"It's not a lie," Batman said, and was rewarded with a flash of pleased surprise in Kal's eyes. Kal unfolded the pants and sweater carefully, running his hand across the thick cable-knit. Then he looked at Batman.
After a moment he said, somewhat stiffly, "It is not the custom among my people to expose themselves in front of others. Is it acceptable here?"
"Oh!" Bruce felt suddenly like an idiot, or a high-school boy, or both. "No, I didn't realize--I'll just step outside."
From around the corner he could hear rustling cloth. "Do they fit?" he asked. He'd had to guess at Kal's measurements from memory. There was no need to mention that he'd picked the color of the sweater to match Kal's eyes.
"I...believe so," came Kal's voice. "But I'm not sure I've gotten them right."
When Batman came around the corner, it took all of his self-control to keep from smiling. He coughed instead. "I probably should have given you some directions," he admitted to Kal's chagrined face. Kal blinked as he reached up and touched the tag at Kal's throat. "Convention holds that this tag marks the back of the sweater, not the front."
"I see." Kal's lips thinned as he looked down at the sweater. "I'm afraid that in learning my English from science textbooks I have missed some essential cultural information."
"That's why you're coming over," Bruce said. "Learning through experience is better anyway." Kal nodded, looking relieved, and Bruce finally ventured to add, "Another thing..." He pointed to Kal's hips. "That item is called 'underwear,' and we usually don't wear it on the outside of our clothes."
: : :
Kal's eyes flicked around the Batcave, taking in the computers, the dinosaur, the rows of vehicles. "When you said you worked out of a cave, I expected something less elaborate," he said. "This is impressive."
"It serves the purpose," Batman said. He pulled off the cowl and the top half of the suit, heading toward the lockers and a change of clothes. "Give me a moment and--"
He glanced over to see that Kal had gone scarlet and was carefully averting his eyes. "I thought you said your people didn't expose themselves," Kal said into the silence.
Bruce glanced down at his bare chest, then hurried around a corner to the lockers. "I should have been more clear," he said once out of sight. "In human cultures, it's not usually inappropriate for men to bare their chests. I take it Kryptonian culture has stronger nudity taboos?"
Kal muttered something in Kryptonian under his breath. "Yes," he said aloud.
Carefully buttoning the top button on his shirt, Bruce came back around the corner. "Forgive me," he said. "Certain topics are more difficult to discuss than others. Please let me know if I do something offensive to you."
Kal managed a small smile, although his face was still very pink. "I hope you will do the same with me."
There was a sound of light footsteps on the stairs; Kal looked up as Alfred descended into the cave. "You must be Mr. Pennyworth," he said. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." He stuck out his hand with a nervous, abrupt movement, and Alfred shook it gravely.
"The pleasure is all mine, Mr. El," he said, turning to include Bruce in his next statement. "Dinner will be served soon. Master Bruce has informed me that Kryptonians don't eat meat, so we have a wide range of vegetarian dishes available."
Kal bit his lip. "Will that be a problem in human culture, not eating animal flesh?"
"Not at all, sir. There are many people who eschew eating meat."
Kal looked at Bruce as if for confirmation and relaxed slightly when Bruce nodded.
"Tim, Dick, and Barbara are upstairs and quite anxious to meet Mr. El," Alfred added. Bruce suppressed a smile at the memory of Tim's reaction to the idea of getting to meet the mysterious alien: he had turned a couple of somersaults without even thinking. Dick did a good job of acting more blase about the whole thing, but Bruce knew his ward well enough to know that he was simmering with excitement.
"I told you about Tim and Dick," Bruce said as they mounted the stairs. "Barbara is the daughter of a friend of mine who somehow managed to bamboozle me into letting her dress up and fight crime."
"Bamboozle, nothing!" Barbara's indignant voice rang from the unseen top of the stairs. "I just did it and let you figure out how to deal with it."
"She's a wilful girl," Bruce confided sotto voce to a bewildered-looking Kal as they reached the top of the stairs. "Stubborn, pig-headed, obstinate--"
Barbara was sticking her tongue out as they entered the room. "Takes one to know one," she announced. Then she ducked her head almost shyly, looking beyond him to Kal. "Good evening," she murmured.
Tim was pushing past her before Bruce could introduce her. "Wow, you don't look like an alien at all! The Martian Manhunter has green skin, and Hawkgirl has wings, but you're totally normal." He sounded slightly disappointed, and Dick elbowed him.
"You must be Tim," Kal said. "Mr. Wayne told me about you."
"Did he tell you he was a brat?" Dick muttered, and Barbara giggled, but Kal didn't smile.
"He said nothing of the sort," he said, shaking Tim's hand. "And you must be Dick, Mr. Wayne's elder son."
Dick's cheeks went slightly pink. "I'm--uh--yes, that's me, I guess."
"He did not tell me your..." Kal groped for a word for a moment, "Your hero-names. Is it a secret?"
"Not if Bruce trusts you," said Barbara. "I go by Batgirl."
"Then you must be...Batboy?" Kal said to Tim, who laughed.
"No, I'm Robin. It's a bird's name, the first bird of spring. Dick had it before me."
"Then what is your name now?" Kal asked Dick, frowning.
"I changed mine to Nightwing when I stopped being Robin."
"Night...Wing?" Kal frowned in thought, and then his face brightened. "What a coincidence. Nightwing is the English equivalent of the greatest Kryptonian hero of all time."
"Really?" Dick's eyes shone with delight.
"Oh yes. As a child--and maybe even when older--I loved to read of his adventures. He was the greatest Kryptonian ever: strong in battle, silent as a shadow, and wise in the ways of the heart. Yours is a name of power, Dick Grayson."
All of Dick's carefully-constructed reserve had fallen away by now. "Wow," he breathed, rapt.
"Isn't there a Kryptonian Robin?" Tim demanded.
"Well, there is Nightwing's companion Flamebird, that's close," Kal said. He was still telling them stories about the heroic duo when Alfred arrived to announce that dinner was ready.
Kal sat down at the table, watching the others carefully. He unfolded the napkin intently, running his fingers along it and murmuring "Organic fibers..." before he put it in his lap. Alfred put the baskets of hot, fresh rolls on the table and the boys dug in with gusto, breaking them open and slathering them with hot butter. Kal watched them, his brow furrowed slightly, but made no move to take a roll himself.
"Boys," chided Bruce, "You should offer your guest food before eating yourself, you know."
Tim grimaced apologetically and handed Kal the basket of rolls. "Sorry. You'll like these, they're the best."
Kal looked down at the basket of bread in his hand and bit his lip; Bruce realized he looked faintly ill. "I..."
"What's wrong? Is there a bread taboo on Krypton?" asked Barbara.
"You are...putting your hands on your food," Kal said in a small voice. "Don't you have utensils to use?"
"Some food is meant to be eaten with the hands," said Bruce. "Like bread. Or fried chicken."
"Or hot dogs or corn on the cob or hamburgers or ice cream cones!" chimed in Tim, and Kal's face went even more sickly.
"Weren't there foods you ate with your hands on Krypton?" asked Barbara.
"Well, of course Kryptonians ate with their hands before the founding of the Five Cities," said Kal. "But it's..." He seemed to search for words. "I do not want to be insulting, but--" He picked up a fork and knife, "--Did you not develop these for the express purpose of consuming food? Why would you not use them?"
"But our hands aren't dirty," said Tim. "You shook hands with us earlier."
Kal looked pained. "That is not the point. It is not a matter of dirt, it is a matter of...using the correct tools, like civilized people do. I just don't..." He looked down at the hot bread. "I don't think I can eat that way."
"You don't have to," Bruce said quickly. "Most foods don't have to be touched, Kal. You can skip the bread. But it is normal on Earth to eat some foods with our hands," he added. "Do you think you can get through a meal with us doing so?"
Kal nodded slowly, although his expression was still uncomfortable. "I am here to learn Earth habits," he said. He wrinkled his nose in apology, looking helpless. "I am sorry. And the food smells quite delicious."
"All we ask is that you try," Bruce said reassuringly. "Things like this are going to happen when cultures meet," he added. "As long as we can communicate clearly about such moments and stay rational about our differences, we'll be fine."
Kal still looked dubious, but he nodded and even smiled slightly as he put the basket aside. He did, however, keep his eyes on the tablecloth, breathing carefully and steadily as the others ate their bread.
"Chilled carrot soup, sir," said Alfred, materializing with a cup. "You eat it with this spoon on your right."
A quick sip of soup, and Kal glanced up at Alfred in delight. "This is delicious," he said, taking another spoonful with eager hunger.
"Don't let Alfred's cooking set your standards for Earth cuisine, or you'll be sadly disappointed," said Barbara.
"Yeah, think what a letdown it'll be if he ever has your lemon meringue pie," said Tim.
"That was one time," said Barbara indignantly, "And you will never let me live it down! One time!"
"But what a time it was," said Dick. "How long did it take for you to get all that yellow goo out of your hair?"
As Barbara sputtered, Bruce heard a small chuckle beside him and looked over to see Kal almost smiling, watching the kids. The awkward moment passed as Kal savored the soup and the conversation, and Barbara and Tim shared triumphant glances when Kal wasn't looking, continuing to spar.
"So, what was your occupation?" Bruce asked between the flung jibes.
"I was..." Kal took another sip of soup, his eyes cast up as though searching for words. "There doesn't seem to be a word for it in English. My job was to summarize and report the findings of scientific conferences for a general audience." A wry sliver of a smile. "Science does not seem to hold the position in your culture that it does--did--in mine, but I assure you I was quite busy." He traced one of the embroidered roses on the tablecloth. "My mother often expressed disappointment that I had produced no heirs for my House, but my job was my life, and I had no time to do the requisite compatibility assay." He sighed, almost inaudibly. "I will miss the bustle of the Great Astronomy Convention, and the arguments among the High Council."
"Is it..." Tim hesitated, then forged ahead. "Is it true you can fly? And you're really strong?"
Bruce, Dick and Barbara glared at Tim, but Kal merely smiled. "It appears to be. I haven't tried since...since I arrived. Mr. Wayne says I don't have to push myself."
"Why do you keep calling him Mr. Wayne?" Tim snickered. "That's pretty formal, don't you think?"
Kal turned worried eyes to Bruce. "Is it not appropriate? I was told your House name was Wayne, and from what I read adult males refer to each other by their House names."
"Among friends and equals we usually use personal names," said Bruce. "So you may call me Bruce, if you like."
Kal ducked his head for a moment. "I would be honored if you would call me Kal," he said.
Alfred materialized behind Kal and put a plate on the table. "Saffron risotto with peas and sundried tomatoes."
Kal addressed Tim once more: "But it seems I have other powers as well. My senses have been greatly enhanced, for example. And I can see things in spectra I have never been able to. It is...quite intriguing, actually," he said thoughtfully, scooping up some risotto and then murmuring in delight.
"So...where will you be staying?" asked Dick.
Kal looked surprised. "I assumed I would be returning to my room on the Watchtower this evening."
"No way," Tim announced, bouncing in his chair. "No way! We've got tons of rooms here just sitting empty!" He glared at Bruce. "C'mon, Bruce, you're not really going to let him go back to that stupid Watchtower all alone?"
"If he's going to learn human customs, he's going to have to start living on Earth," Dick pointed out.
Bruce pondered, scowling as if he hadn't been hoping the boys would make the suggestion. "Now, boys," he said sternly, "Let's not be hasty here. We don't know if Mr. El would prefer to return to the Watchtower--although of course he is welcome to stay here," he added to Kal.
"I would be happy to stay here, if you're willing," said Kal. He was almost smiling again.
"I already made up the Sunflower Bedroom for him," said Alfred from the doorway. "Just in case," he added to Bruce's glower.
: : :
Kal took a deep breath of lilac-scented air as he stood at the library windows. "Amazing," he said. "Your world is quite beautiful."
They were alone in the library; Barbara had gone home and the boys were preparing to go on patrol together. They had insisted that Bruce stay in with Kal tonight, and watching Kal's face in the moonlight, his eyes full of wonder, he couldn't bring himself to regret it.
"I'll show you more of it soon," he said, walking over to Kal. "I know it can never make up for what you've lost, but I hope...I hope that you can learn to love Earth as well."
"It...does not seem impossible tonight," Kal said, his voice low. His eyes met Bruce's, lonely and hopeful, alien and lovely, and Bruce felt his heart turn sideways in his chest. He stepped closer, one hand lifted--
"--Bruce, it passed, it finally--oh, sorry," said Tim, unrepentant in his Robin costume but without the domino mask. "Mississippi finally did it," he crowed, grabbing the remote and turning on the television.
On the screen, the graphic announced: "Marriage Equality for Mississippi." The reporter was talking about Mississippi's status as the last holdout, historic votes, celebration in the streets.
"Marriage equality?" said Kal.
"Yeah, that's--hold on, I want to see this," said Tim as the cameras cut to the scenes of jubilation.
"About time," Dick said with satisfaction from the doorway as the camera panned across couples embracing and kissing, cheering and dancing.
"That's--" Everyone turned at the strain in Kal's voice. He was staring at the screen, his face pale with shock. "Those are two men kissing each other," he said.
"Yeah, they're celebrating the fact they can finally get married--"
"--Two men?" Kal's voice was incredulous. "How will they procreate?"
Dick and Tim exchanged glances. "Many Earth societies no longer link marriage and procreation so strictly," Dick said.
Kal's hands were shaking; he clasped them together, the knuckles white. "That...makes no sense," he said tightly.
Tim took a quick step forward. "What are you, some kind of--" Bruce held up his hand to cut him off, and he fell silent.
"Kal," said Bruce. Kal was still staring at the television, his eyes filled with shock and horror. "Kal. I gather that on Krypton same-sex relationships were not approved of?"
"Of course we had relationships between people of the same sex! Nightwing and Flamebird had the most holy of friendships, the most spiritual of bonds. But this--this physical--intimacy--" Kal tore his gaze from the screen; he found himself looking at Bruce and his eyes flinched away to a corner of the room. "Your culture allows this. It encourages this?"
Bruce took a breath. "Encourage is too strong a word. But many Earth cultures allow it, yes. The government of this country does. And if you wish to ever be a hero in this culture, you will have to as well." He felt his jaw tighten. "I will not train a man to save lives who might hesitate to save another soul because of who they love."
Kal winced. He muttered something in Kryptonian, low under his breath. "I thought...but you are aliens, this world is alien, how can I live here, how can I bear it? It is too much." He met Bruce's eyes, and his own were miserable and lost. "You ask too much of me too quickly." He looked at the unsmiling faces in the room. "I am not welcome here. I shall return to the Watchtower."
"Nonsense." Alfred stepped into the room, assured and in control. "You cannot stay indefinitely on a satellite, Mr. El. Get some sleep; we shall all feel more rested in the morning."
He bustled Kal out of the room and upstairs, leaving an uncomfortable silence in their wake. "I'm sorry," Tim muttered sheepishly, "I shouldn't have jumped on him like that. I just was surprised."
"It's something he's going to have to deal with," Bruce said, his hands clasped tight behind his back. He cursed himself for a fool, he had almost committed a heinous violation, he had been...he had been hoping for something that would have horrified Kal, he admitted grimly to himself.
Dick was poking at the fire, flamelight playing over his dark hair. He looked up. "Did you mean what you said, about not training him?"
"If he truly can't stomach the idea of same-sex couples, he's not someone we'd want in a prominent position on the Justice League," Bruce said. "And I don't know--"
"--I don't see as you have much choice, Master Bruce," said Alfred, re-entering the room. "Mr. El will have to adapt to life on Earth, and will have to learn how to use his powers wisely. If indeed he is unable tolerate certain people, all the more reason to not release him on the world untrained and unschooled." He looked keenly at Bruce as if he could read his disappointment and chagrin. "And you did promise to aid him," he added. "It is not your way to turn away someone who needs help."
"He's an invulnerable alien who can fly and shoot lasers out of his eyes," grumbled Tim. "Does he really need our help?"
"He is a traumatized survivor of an annihilated race who has lost everyone he knows and is alone on a planet that is strange and shocking to him," Alfred said. "He needs time to deal with his grief, time to process and accept this new world."
"He seems so nice," Dick said wistfully. "He doesn't seem like the kind of person who'd--you know, be like that."
"They usually don't at first," Tim muttered darkly, but Bruce shook his head.
"Alfred is right. Kal is dealing with a lot of trauma, and he shouldn't have to deal with demands that he be untrue to his upbringing right now. That doesn't mean he gets a free pass forever," he said to Tim's scowl. "Just that you can't force tolerance on someone. Let's take it slow and focus on helping him control his powers first." Dick looked relieved, Tim still rebellious, but he nodded eventually and they left for patrol.
Bruce banked the fire and headed upstairs to bed. As he passed Kal's closed door he heard a muffled sound, a stifled sob, and he paused, irresolute. It came again and Bruce had a sudden, heart-breaking image of Kal alone in a strange alien bed, mourning the loss of his world in solitude. Bruce's hand was lifted, almost on the door handle, but he stopped himself. He had no idea if Kal knew Bruce had been about to kiss him, but there was no way having a man barge into his bedroom in the middle of the night would be welcome.
Bruce lowered his hand and forced himself to move onward to his own room, but sleep was a long time coming that night.
-------------
( Part 3: Training)
Pairing/Characters: Clark/Bruce, Alfred, Dick, Tim, Barbara
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None
Continuity: Justice League Unlimited
Summary: Kal comes to Wayne Manor to have dinner and meet the rest of the family. Things don't go exactly as expected.
Word Count: 3700
Notes: For a prompt on the
worlds_finest birthday thread: "Krypton doesn't explode until Kal-El is an adult. He arrives on Earth still the last son, but having seen his planet die. To the JLA's surprise, Batman is the one to volunteer to help him." This is the second in the series, after Shared Pain.
"I brought you some Earth clothing," Batman said, holding out the little bundle. Kal glanced down at his Kryptonian robes and brushed his fingers across the diamond-shaped crest sewn across the heart in silver thread. "I'm sorry," Batman said to the sadness in his eyes, "But you'll stand out way too much in those. The League has told the military that we're keeping you here until we're sure you're not dangerous."
"Do you often lie to your military?" Kal asked as he took the neatly-folded clothes from Bruce.
"It's not a lie," Batman said, and was rewarded with a flash of pleased surprise in Kal's eyes. Kal unfolded the pants and sweater carefully, running his hand across the thick cable-knit. Then he looked at Batman.
After a moment he said, somewhat stiffly, "It is not the custom among my people to expose themselves in front of others. Is it acceptable here?"
"Oh!" Bruce felt suddenly like an idiot, or a high-school boy, or both. "No, I didn't realize--I'll just step outside."
From around the corner he could hear rustling cloth. "Do they fit?" he asked. He'd had to guess at Kal's measurements from memory. There was no need to mention that he'd picked the color of the sweater to match Kal's eyes.
"I...believe so," came Kal's voice. "But I'm not sure I've gotten them right."
When Batman came around the corner, it took all of his self-control to keep from smiling. He coughed instead. "I probably should have given you some directions," he admitted to Kal's chagrined face. Kal blinked as he reached up and touched the tag at Kal's throat. "Convention holds that this tag marks the back of the sweater, not the front."
"I see." Kal's lips thinned as he looked down at the sweater. "I'm afraid that in learning my English from science textbooks I have missed some essential cultural information."
"That's why you're coming over," Bruce said. "Learning through experience is better anyway." Kal nodded, looking relieved, and Bruce finally ventured to add, "Another thing..." He pointed to Kal's hips. "That item is called 'underwear,' and we usually don't wear it on the outside of our clothes."
: : :
Kal's eyes flicked around the Batcave, taking in the computers, the dinosaur, the rows of vehicles. "When you said you worked out of a cave, I expected something less elaborate," he said. "This is impressive."
"It serves the purpose," Batman said. He pulled off the cowl and the top half of the suit, heading toward the lockers and a change of clothes. "Give me a moment and--"
He glanced over to see that Kal had gone scarlet and was carefully averting his eyes. "I thought you said your people didn't expose themselves," Kal said into the silence.
Bruce glanced down at his bare chest, then hurried around a corner to the lockers. "I should have been more clear," he said once out of sight. "In human cultures, it's not usually inappropriate for men to bare their chests. I take it Kryptonian culture has stronger nudity taboos?"
Kal muttered something in Kryptonian under his breath. "Yes," he said aloud.
Carefully buttoning the top button on his shirt, Bruce came back around the corner. "Forgive me," he said. "Certain topics are more difficult to discuss than others. Please let me know if I do something offensive to you."
Kal managed a small smile, although his face was still very pink. "I hope you will do the same with me."
There was a sound of light footsteps on the stairs; Kal looked up as Alfred descended into the cave. "You must be Mr. Pennyworth," he said. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." He stuck out his hand with a nervous, abrupt movement, and Alfred shook it gravely.
"The pleasure is all mine, Mr. El," he said, turning to include Bruce in his next statement. "Dinner will be served soon. Master Bruce has informed me that Kryptonians don't eat meat, so we have a wide range of vegetarian dishes available."
Kal bit his lip. "Will that be a problem in human culture, not eating animal flesh?"
"Not at all, sir. There are many people who eschew eating meat."
Kal looked at Bruce as if for confirmation and relaxed slightly when Bruce nodded.
"Tim, Dick, and Barbara are upstairs and quite anxious to meet Mr. El," Alfred added. Bruce suppressed a smile at the memory of Tim's reaction to the idea of getting to meet the mysterious alien: he had turned a couple of somersaults without even thinking. Dick did a good job of acting more blase about the whole thing, but Bruce knew his ward well enough to know that he was simmering with excitement.
"I told you about Tim and Dick," Bruce said as they mounted the stairs. "Barbara is the daughter of a friend of mine who somehow managed to bamboozle me into letting her dress up and fight crime."
"Bamboozle, nothing!" Barbara's indignant voice rang from the unseen top of the stairs. "I just did it and let you figure out how to deal with it."
"She's a wilful girl," Bruce confided sotto voce to a bewildered-looking Kal as they reached the top of the stairs. "Stubborn, pig-headed, obstinate--"
Barbara was sticking her tongue out as they entered the room. "Takes one to know one," she announced. Then she ducked her head almost shyly, looking beyond him to Kal. "Good evening," she murmured.
Tim was pushing past her before Bruce could introduce her. "Wow, you don't look like an alien at all! The Martian Manhunter has green skin, and Hawkgirl has wings, but you're totally normal." He sounded slightly disappointed, and Dick elbowed him.
"You must be Tim," Kal said. "Mr. Wayne told me about you."
"Did he tell you he was a brat?" Dick muttered, and Barbara giggled, but Kal didn't smile.
"He said nothing of the sort," he said, shaking Tim's hand. "And you must be Dick, Mr. Wayne's elder son."
Dick's cheeks went slightly pink. "I'm--uh--yes, that's me, I guess."
"He did not tell me your..." Kal groped for a word for a moment, "Your hero-names. Is it a secret?"
"Not if Bruce trusts you," said Barbara. "I go by Batgirl."
"Then you must be...Batboy?" Kal said to Tim, who laughed.
"No, I'm Robin. It's a bird's name, the first bird of spring. Dick had it before me."
"Then what is your name now?" Kal asked Dick, frowning.
"I changed mine to Nightwing when I stopped being Robin."
"Night...Wing?" Kal frowned in thought, and then his face brightened. "What a coincidence. Nightwing is the English equivalent of the greatest Kryptonian hero of all time."
"Really?" Dick's eyes shone with delight.
"Oh yes. As a child--and maybe even when older--I loved to read of his adventures. He was the greatest Kryptonian ever: strong in battle, silent as a shadow, and wise in the ways of the heart. Yours is a name of power, Dick Grayson."
All of Dick's carefully-constructed reserve had fallen away by now. "Wow," he breathed, rapt.
"Isn't there a Kryptonian Robin?" Tim demanded.
"Well, there is Nightwing's companion Flamebird, that's close," Kal said. He was still telling them stories about the heroic duo when Alfred arrived to announce that dinner was ready.
Kal sat down at the table, watching the others carefully. He unfolded the napkin intently, running his fingers along it and murmuring "Organic fibers..." before he put it in his lap. Alfred put the baskets of hot, fresh rolls on the table and the boys dug in with gusto, breaking them open and slathering them with hot butter. Kal watched them, his brow furrowed slightly, but made no move to take a roll himself.
"Boys," chided Bruce, "You should offer your guest food before eating yourself, you know."
Tim grimaced apologetically and handed Kal the basket of rolls. "Sorry. You'll like these, they're the best."
Kal looked down at the basket of bread in his hand and bit his lip; Bruce realized he looked faintly ill. "I..."
"What's wrong? Is there a bread taboo on Krypton?" asked Barbara.
"You are...putting your hands on your food," Kal said in a small voice. "Don't you have utensils to use?"
"Some food is meant to be eaten with the hands," said Bruce. "Like bread. Or fried chicken."
"Or hot dogs or corn on the cob or hamburgers or ice cream cones!" chimed in Tim, and Kal's face went even more sickly.
"Weren't there foods you ate with your hands on Krypton?" asked Barbara.
"Well, of course Kryptonians ate with their hands before the founding of the Five Cities," said Kal. "But it's..." He seemed to search for words. "I do not want to be insulting, but--" He picked up a fork and knife, "--Did you not develop these for the express purpose of consuming food? Why would you not use them?"
"But our hands aren't dirty," said Tim. "You shook hands with us earlier."
Kal looked pained. "That is not the point. It is not a matter of dirt, it is a matter of...using the correct tools, like civilized people do. I just don't..." He looked down at the hot bread. "I don't think I can eat that way."
"You don't have to," Bruce said quickly. "Most foods don't have to be touched, Kal. You can skip the bread. But it is normal on Earth to eat some foods with our hands," he added. "Do you think you can get through a meal with us doing so?"
Kal nodded slowly, although his expression was still uncomfortable. "I am here to learn Earth habits," he said. He wrinkled his nose in apology, looking helpless. "I am sorry. And the food smells quite delicious."
"All we ask is that you try," Bruce said reassuringly. "Things like this are going to happen when cultures meet," he added. "As long as we can communicate clearly about such moments and stay rational about our differences, we'll be fine."
Kal still looked dubious, but he nodded and even smiled slightly as he put the basket aside. He did, however, keep his eyes on the tablecloth, breathing carefully and steadily as the others ate their bread.
"Chilled carrot soup, sir," said Alfred, materializing with a cup. "You eat it with this spoon on your right."
A quick sip of soup, and Kal glanced up at Alfred in delight. "This is delicious," he said, taking another spoonful with eager hunger.
"Don't let Alfred's cooking set your standards for Earth cuisine, or you'll be sadly disappointed," said Barbara.
"Yeah, think what a letdown it'll be if he ever has your lemon meringue pie," said Tim.
"That was one time," said Barbara indignantly, "And you will never let me live it down! One time!"
"But what a time it was," said Dick. "How long did it take for you to get all that yellow goo out of your hair?"
As Barbara sputtered, Bruce heard a small chuckle beside him and looked over to see Kal almost smiling, watching the kids. The awkward moment passed as Kal savored the soup and the conversation, and Barbara and Tim shared triumphant glances when Kal wasn't looking, continuing to spar.
"So, what was your occupation?" Bruce asked between the flung jibes.
"I was..." Kal took another sip of soup, his eyes cast up as though searching for words. "There doesn't seem to be a word for it in English. My job was to summarize and report the findings of scientific conferences for a general audience." A wry sliver of a smile. "Science does not seem to hold the position in your culture that it does--did--in mine, but I assure you I was quite busy." He traced one of the embroidered roses on the tablecloth. "My mother often expressed disappointment that I had produced no heirs for my House, but my job was my life, and I had no time to do the requisite compatibility assay." He sighed, almost inaudibly. "I will miss the bustle of the Great Astronomy Convention, and the arguments among the High Council."
"Is it..." Tim hesitated, then forged ahead. "Is it true you can fly? And you're really strong?"
Bruce, Dick and Barbara glared at Tim, but Kal merely smiled. "It appears to be. I haven't tried since...since I arrived. Mr. Wayne says I don't have to push myself."
"Why do you keep calling him Mr. Wayne?" Tim snickered. "That's pretty formal, don't you think?"
Kal turned worried eyes to Bruce. "Is it not appropriate? I was told your House name was Wayne, and from what I read adult males refer to each other by their House names."
"Among friends and equals we usually use personal names," said Bruce. "So you may call me Bruce, if you like."
Kal ducked his head for a moment. "I would be honored if you would call me Kal," he said.
Alfred materialized behind Kal and put a plate on the table. "Saffron risotto with peas and sundried tomatoes."
Kal addressed Tim once more: "But it seems I have other powers as well. My senses have been greatly enhanced, for example. And I can see things in spectra I have never been able to. It is...quite intriguing, actually," he said thoughtfully, scooping up some risotto and then murmuring in delight.
"So...where will you be staying?" asked Dick.
Kal looked surprised. "I assumed I would be returning to my room on the Watchtower this evening."
"No way," Tim announced, bouncing in his chair. "No way! We've got tons of rooms here just sitting empty!" He glared at Bruce. "C'mon, Bruce, you're not really going to let him go back to that stupid Watchtower all alone?"
"If he's going to learn human customs, he's going to have to start living on Earth," Dick pointed out.
Bruce pondered, scowling as if he hadn't been hoping the boys would make the suggestion. "Now, boys," he said sternly, "Let's not be hasty here. We don't know if Mr. El would prefer to return to the Watchtower--although of course he is welcome to stay here," he added to Kal.
"I would be happy to stay here, if you're willing," said Kal. He was almost smiling again.
"I already made up the Sunflower Bedroom for him," said Alfred from the doorway. "Just in case," he added to Bruce's glower.
: : :
Kal took a deep breath of lilac-scented air as he stood at the library windows. "Amazing," he said. "Your world is quite beautiful."
They were alone in the library; Barbara had gone home and the boys were preparing to go on patrol together. They had insisted that Bruce stay in with Kal tonight, and watching Kal's face in the moonlight, his eyes full of wonder, he couldn't bring himself to regret it.
"I'll show you more of it soon," he said, walking over to Kal. "I know it can never make up for what you've lost, but I hope...I hope that you can learn to love Earth as well."
"It...does not seem impossible tonight," Kal said, his voice low. His eyes met Bruce's, lonely and hopeful, alien and lovely, and Bruce felt his heart turn sideways in his chest. He stepped closer, one hand lifted--
"--Bruce, it passed, it finally--oh, sorry," said Tim, unrepentant in his Robin costume but without the domino mask. "Mississippi finally did it," he crowed, grabbing the remote and turning on the television.
On the screen, the graphic announced: "Marriage Equality for Mississippi." The reporter was talking about Mississippi's status as the last holdout, historic votes, celebration in the streets.
"Marriage equality?" said Kal.
"Yeah, that's--hold on, I want to see this," said Tim as the cameras cut to the scenes of jubilation.
"About time," Dick said with satisfaction from the doorway as the camera panned across couples embracing and kissing, cheering and dancing.
"That's--" Everyone turned at the strain in Kal's voice. He was staring at the screen, his face pale with shock. "Those are two men kissing each other," he said.
"Yeah, they're celebrating the fact they can finally get married--"
"--Two men?" Kal's voice was incredulous. "How will they procreate?"
Dick and Tim exchanged glances. "Many Earth societies no longer link marriage and procreation so strictly," Dick said.
Kal's hands were shaking; he clasped them together, the knuckles white. "That...makes no sense," he said tightly.
Tim took a quick step forward. "What are you, some kind of--" Bruce held up his hand to cut him off, and he fell silent.
"Kal," said Bruce. Kal was still staring at the television, his eyes filled with shock and horror. "Kal. I gather that on Krypton same-sex relationships were not approved of?"
"Of course we had relationships between people of the same sex! Nightwing and Flamebird had the most holy of friendships, the most spiritual of bonds. But this--this physical--intimacy--" Kal tore his gaze from the screen; he found himself looking at Bruce and his eyes flinched away to a corner of the room. "Your culture allows this. It encourages this?"
Bruce took a breath. "Encourage is too strong a word. But many Earth cultures allow it, yes. The government of this country does. And if you wish to ever be a hero in this culture, you will have to as well." He felt his jaw tighten. "I will not train a man to save lives who might hesitate to save another soul because of who they love."
Kal winced. He muttered something in Kryptonian, low under his breath. "I thought...but you are aliens, this world is alien, how can I live here, how can I bear it? It is too much." He met Bruce's eyes, and his own were miserable and lost. "You ask too much of me too quickly." He looked at the unsmiling faces in the room. "I am not welcome here. I shall return to the Watchtower."
"Nonsense." Alfred stepped into the room, assured and in control. "You cannot stay indefinitely on a satellite, Mr. El. Get some sleep; we shall all feel more rested in the morning."
He bustled Kal out of the room and upstairs, leaving an uncomfortable silence in their wake. "I'm sorry," Tim muttered sheepishly, "I shouldn't have jumped on him like that. I just was surprised."
"It's something he's going to have to deal with," Bruce said, his hands clasped tight behind his back. He cursed himself for a fool, he had almost committed a heinous violation, he had been...he had been hoping for something that would have horrified Kal, he admitted grimly to himself.
Dick was poking at the fire, flamelight playing over his dark hair. He looked up. "Did you mean what you said, about not training him?"
"If he truly can't stomach the idea of same-sex couples, he's not someone we'd want in a prominent position on the Justice League," Bruce said. "And I don't know--"
"--I don't see as you have much choice, Master Bruce," said Alfred, re-entering the room. "Mr. El will have to adapt to life on Earth, and will have to learn how to use his powers wisely. If indeed he is unable tolerate certain people, all the more reason to not release him on the world untrained and unschooled." He looked keenly at Bruce as if he could read his disappointment and chagrin. "And you did promise to aid him," he added. "It is not your way to turn away someone who needs help."
"He's an invulnerable alien who can fly and shoot lasers out of his eyes," grumbled Tim. "Does he really need our help?"
"He is a traumatized survivor of an annihilated race who has lost everyone he knows and is alone on a planet that is strange and shocking to him," Alfred said. "He needs time to deal with his grief, time to process and accept this new world."
"He seems so nice," Dick said wistfully. "He doesn't seem like the kind of person who'd--you know, be like that."
"They usually don't at first," Tim muttered darkly, but Bruce shook his head.
"Alfred is right. Kal is dealing with a lot of trauma, and he shouldn't have to deal with demands that he be untrue to his upbringing right now. That doesn't mean he gets a free pass forever," he said to Tim's scowl. "Just that you can't force tolerance on someone. Let's take it slow and focus on helping him control his powers first." Dick looked relieved, Tim still rebellious, but he nodded eventually and they left for patrol.
Bruce banked the fire and headed upstairs to bed. As he passed Kal's closed door he heard a muffled sound, a stifled sob, and he paused, irresolute. It came again and Bruce had a sudden, heart-breaking image of Kal alone in a strange alien bed, mourning the loss of his world in solitude. Bruce's hand was lifted, almost on the door handle, but he stopped himself. He had no idea if Kal knew Bruce had been about to kiss him, but there was no way having a man barge into his bedroom in the middle of the night would be welcome.
Bruce lowered his hand and forced himself to move onward to his own room, but sleep was a long time coming that night.
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( Part 3: Training)