You would have fought very bravely, and died very quickly. Who then, would avenge your brother?

Jun 25, 2011 13:15

Who: Superdad isitablurred  and Batboy kingofrooks / rookminor 
When: June 25th 2011
Where: The streets of Gotham I mean Siren's Port. Sector 9.
Summary: Bruce is determined to keep patrolling even though he is 8 years old. Clark finds him on the street. Eight year olds have no defense against bullets.
Warnings: Violence, swearing, superheroes making up, flashbacks to Bathistory. Oh ( Read more... )

clark kent, bruce wayne | batman

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Comments 64

rookminor June 25 2011, 12:46:56 UTC
The purpose of him checking out the casino in the first place was to possibly find a cure for the little 'affliction' that were killing people. Bruce had been trying to figure out how the woman had done this - it wasn't a time reversal, because he kept his mental faculties in the present, and it seemed to be entirely physical. Yet how had her powers manifested? How do they work? And more importantly- how could he reverse the process quickly enough so that more people wouldn't have to die because of it ( ... )

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isitablurred June 25 2011, 12:55:16 UTC
Clark noticed the Batarang stuck out of the man's knee just a moment before he heard the jarring young voice behind him. The boy, right, but... Wait.

Wait.

Batarang. Little boy. No way.

He span around, deliberately ignoring the man on the ground so that he could get a good look at Bruce, choking down on a laugh that threatened to bubble up simply because... Well, he was ridiculous. Why was he out here, fighting crime, when he was - well - tiny.

"You--"

He was smaller than Clark had expected him to be.

"What--" in Rao's name "--do you think you're doing out here? You can't possibly expect to make a difference when you're that high, can you?"

Funnily enough, the crook seemed content to just stay back, whimpering to himself as he pulled the bat shaped throwing knife out of his knee, Clark's cape fluttering in his face.

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rookminor June 25 2011, 13:24:34 UTC
The belt was too big for his waist now - obviously - but Bruce had it slung over his shoulders. It was more like a slingbag than anything, and the pockets - built for a pair of hands far, far bigger than the ones he now owned - were big enough to swallow up his entire fist. All the better - it just meant that it was still easy for him to take out what he needed.

He hooked his fingers against a belt loop, ignoring Clark and walking towards the man. Picking up the batarang nonchalantly, he tucked it into a pocket- and kicked the criminal straight in the face with a boot. He fell back, cursing, and Bruce folded his arms, stepping back until he could see Clark.

Why in the name of everything was the man so irritatingly tall? He was tilting his head back as far as it would go, and all he could see was the S-shield and his neck and chin and not his face. Not his eyes ( ... )

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isitablurred June 25 2011, 13:41:18 UTC
Was he... Was he actually pouting? With his arms folded across his chest like a spoilt child? Clark held his breath for just a moment to force down a laugh, and once again turned his back to the criminal to step after Bruce as he walked away.

"So what're you going to do now? Drag him off to the police station by his ear?"

The man managed to drag himself up, clearly roaring into a rage, wrapping his arms around Clark's shoulders to try and twist him into a headlock. Clark merely shrugged, and the man stumbled back a few dozen feet or so and fell on his back in a puddle.

"You can't." Damnit, he was having a conversation here. Stay down. "You can't play vigilante when you're small enough to be shoved into a binbag and dropped in the river, B. No matter how determined you are."

The man behind him, finally pushed to his limit, drew a gun.

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isitablurred June 27 2011, 14:48:53 UTC
A few more hours pass by, mostly quiet, but they're fighting down a monster that's surprised them when Clark sees Bruce slip up. He was getting tired, his aim slipping, the strength in his small body giving out. He was pushing himself too hard. When they finish the monster off, he took a moment to glance at Bruce, studying him carefully ( ... )

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rookminor June 27 2011, 15:12:49 UTC
It was the most irritating thing when a person's will couldn't supersede their body's needs. Bruce had trained for years to force his body to obey his every command, his every whim; to do whatever he thought necessary, even if it was to go for days without sleep and keeping his brain as sharp and his eyes as observant as ever ( ... )

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isitablurred June 27 2011, 15:57:59 UTC
"We're flying back. And before you keep arguing with me, I'll remind you that we're two sectors away from the nearest safehouse and I might have to actually respond to an emergency. How can I do that if I'm worried you're going to walk into some monster's jaws?"

They were already half way back. Clark leapt, keeping his head bent down over Bruce and shielding him from the wind as they crossed the city. His grip was firm and unrelenting, and so help him, Bruce was not getting down until Clark put him down.

He couldn't help himself. Bruce was... Well he was small. And Clark felt the way that his heartbeat flickered and slowed a little more, sluggishly, as the weight of sleepyness sank down on him. If he let Bruce walk back on top of everything else they probably wouldn't make it before morning. If at all.

Landing a street away from the safehouse, Clark dropped slowly to a walk, listening. He didn't want to be spotted going inside, after all.

"Have you ever considered being realistic? You know--not pushing yourself beyond your limits ( ... )

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rookminor June 27 2011, 16:34:24 UTC
The cold wind on his face kept him from falling asleep- even if he did trust Clark again, he didn't trust him quite enough to fall asleep on him- and when Clark started talking again, it took far less effort to keep awake. Bruce looked up at him, scowling.

"Not all of us have the luxury of being powered by the sun. And I know what my limits are."

Never mind that he almost fell off a grapple line because he was falling asleep. That was just a little less dangerous than being asleep behing the wheel.

"Besides, I'm not that tired that I can't avoid the monsters," and as if his body decided that he was an idiot, it decided to betray him - immediately, he yawned a little- and the moment he let it pass, a huge yawn forced its way through his mouth, tears gathering at the sides of his eyes. Bruce rubbed at them absentmindedly, and turned around slightly, half-curling against Clark when he remembered where he was and turned around right back, scowling.

"And you're naggier than your mother."

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