can you become a hero without reading the romance of the three kingdoms?

[kingofrooks]

Who: Clark 'I have Kryptonite issues' Kent [isitablurred] and Bruce 'I am paranoid and overprotective and also has issues' Wayne [kingofrooks]
When: Very late Saturday night
Where: Vicinity of Sector Two and then much further
Summary: After this, Bruce takes matters into his own hands. Unfortunately, SERO isn't an easy target. Clark is a busybody and comes to the rescue

Comments

[isitablurred]

He was the most threatening 6'2" man in his underpants that Clark had ever seen, but that didn't stop him from almost laughing, obscenely, right in the middle of his speech. Only the word 'Superboy' stopped him, and he muted himself with the back of his hand, trying to force the glare back into his eyes.

And then Bruce folded his arms, and he couldn't stop himself. A giggle spluttered out, all at once, straight through his attempt to mute it by pressing his lips tightly together, and he had to clamp his hand completely flat across his mouth to hold anything else in.

Tried to apologise, and only ended up laughing out loud. Shook his head and tried to force it down. It wasn't a laughing matter. No, not at all. Not funny.

With a deep breath, he rose his eyes toward the ceiling, tried to contain himself, and deliberately didn't look at Bruce as he spoke.

"All I asked from you is a little respect. I know I have to earn it, but to be fair, you don't make that easy. But fine. Lex was my best friend. He hit me with his Porsche, and I

[kingofrooks]

Of course he didn't make it easy- not when Clark pulled stunts like these. Bruce narrowed his eyes, and kicked himself for momentarily forgetting his state of undress. He honestly had half-forgotten the fact that he might as well be naked, his armour removed to take care of the wounds on his arm and thigh. He blamed it on the fact that his anger and irritation had quickly chased away the slight dizziness and the pain of his wounds- really, he shouldn't be standing.

But when he Bruce done anything he had? And- more relevant to the current matter, Clark had made the mistake of giving him back the belt while he knew that Bruce was angry.

In a movement so quick that it might as well be superhuman, Bruce snapped open the top of the pocket of his belt that kept the green kryptonite ring. He could have used the blue, but that wouldn't cause Clark pain- and pain was his objective- and he briefly thought that he had never used this method of shaking sense into this idiot's head before, and wondered if it was the constant exposure to him

[isitablurred]

He should have really seen it coming, but god forbid Bruce back down from the rising levels of testosterone in the room. This time when Bruce hit him it wasn't the gentle reminder that he'd smacked him with in the past, it was a really hard punch, driving teeth against teeth, leaving a thundering ache in his jaw for a few seconds, even after the Kryptonite vanished back into the pocket.

His hiss was a warning: "You really shouldn't have put away that meteor rock."

From his place against the railing Clark glared, all amusement gone from his eyes, replaced only by loathing, and then he flashed up to his feet, and all in one movement sent the bottle flying before, his hand around Bruce's throat, he drove the man up against the door, two feet from the ground, at the full extension of Clark's arm. A certain degree of his ability to conduct weightlessness onto other things went into the action--it was more showy than intentionally harmful, but the meaning was there

[kingofrooks]

The moment his feet left the ground, Bruce was already considering escape plans, thinking up of ways of making Clark let him go. It didn't matter if he was going to fall- that was preferable because he knew it was going to happen, and he could prepare for it. But right now, even though his windpipe wasn't being constricted by Clark's hand, he was still entirely reliant upon Clark to stay where he was and to make sure he could breathe

[isitablurred]

He wasn't sure whether what he'd said had actually got through, or whether Bruce had suddenly come to life with remorse for some other reason, but no matter how it had happened, Clark wasn't going to dismiss him. He had barely a moment to flinch from the Kryptonite before the lead lid was snapped shut, and then he lowered Bruce carefully back to the floor, having the decency to at least look apologetic as he stepped back.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to push you around like that."

And that was the whole point, wasn't it? Even when Oliver had been at his worst, Clark had made it clear that he wasn't to have free reign of his city, causing havoc in Metropolis like some spoilt schoolkid. He couldn't coexist with other heroes, because like Bruce, he was a loner. He had no sidekick, he barely even fought in a team even on team dispatch, and he worked best with Bart, who despite being infuriating at times, at least shared a major ability with him

[kingofrooks]

That was the problem, wasn't it? Clark was pushing hm around, and Bruce had no way of actually making him stop beyond using the kryptonite- and that was supposed to be used only in emergency situations. But he had used it three times so far in order to punch some sense into Clark; and he had even synthesized red kryptonite in order to control him. He was doing what he would never do with the Clark he knew from home, crossing lines he should have never cross.

Now how was he to articulate this? Bruce looked at him for a long moment and sighed to himself, turning around and starting to stride towards a corner of the safehouse. He picked up his clothes- most particularly, his cape and cowl, detaching the latter and tossing it onto the pile of armour and medical supplies on the table before he draped the black Kevlar weave over himself

[isitablurred]

Clark let him go, and couldn't help his relief as Bruce put all that distance between them, if only because it relieved so much of the built tension, the frenetic static in the atmosphere between them that had made their pulses race, both of them angry and territorial, fighting over a position of superiority that frankly didn't exist between them. And that was... It was what Bruce went on to explain, pulling his cape over his shoulders as though he were some kind of vampire. It covered him up despite its scalloped, tattered edges, and it took away the truly comical look from before--it was a start, anyway.

And as he explained, Clark began to understand.

This confusion; the fact that Clark wasn't the Clark that Bruce was used to, meant that he had assumed a relationship that didn't exist, given concessions to Clark that he would give to no other person--that he hadn't, not once in his entire life. Not to the other Clark, who respected his boundaries naturally, and not to any of his Robins. Not to anyoneNo wonder he responded the way

[kingofrooks]

There was an implicit comparison to Luthor there that Bruce wanted to protect against, that he wanted to deny simply because he wasn't like that and how dare Clark compare him with that man- that to do so was an idiot. But then- but then that wasn't true. It wasn't an insult when it was true; that Bruce was far more like the Luthor that this Clark knew than he would ever admit.

Because he had made use of his knowledge for his own benefit, making use of what he knew about kryptonite and the fact that Clark left all of it with him- him and no one else- to make the red kryptonite and use it against Clark. To force him to do what he would never have otherwise

[isitablurred]

What have you done?

Funny, how that cut straight through, but it was to the point. It nailed precisely why this was his weakness and not just an incident in his life, nailed why this was so important to him that, after Davis' death, he had thrown himself into the Fortress and his 'calling', and abandoned everything that tied him to humanity

[isitablurred]

"The Justice League, under Oliver, began to devise a way to get rid of the monster. After he tried to kill Oliver and Jimmy, I took Davis to the Fortress and I--" No, he looked away again. Couldn't look someone straight in the eye as he said this. "I tried to send him through to the Phantom Zone like that. A human. It wasn't his fault how he had been born, why he had been created the way he was. The thing was, I was desperate. I refused to kill, and that didn't leave me with many options. So I stole Black Kryptonite from the Luthor vault--that way we could split Davis from the beast

[kingofrooks]

It was odd of him, but the most startling part of the story wasn't that Clark had made a mistake; that Chloe Sullivan had played such a strong role and he still had no idea who she really was; or even that Jimmy Olsen was dating someone who was Clark's contemporary. No, not any of that.

It was that Doomsday was human.

And that was the nail in the coffin, wasn't it? Clark- this Clark, he didn't have it as easy as the one that Bruce was familiar with. The only enemy that Clark had always been broken-hearted about was Luthor, simply because Luthor was human, and Clark couldn't help but believe in the goodness of humanity. Brainiac was nothing much but an AI; Mxzyptlk was a Fifth Dimensional Imp; Bizarro was clearly a broken monster; and Doomsday was another monster. Zod had human form, but he was long gone.

Yet from what this Clark had said- Mxyzptlk is a teenager. Bizarro was a failed clone. Brainiac looked human enough for Clark to mistake Spike to be him. And Doomsday was human. Doomsday, beyond the bloodthirsty monster determined

[isitablurred]

That was it, wasn't it? The humanity or apparent humanity of the enemies that Clark had was completely different to that of Superman's true enemies. Even so, Darkseid, in his close future, would be the least human of all his enemies, and still wear human faces. Doomsday, a behorned alien monster, had worn a Kryptonian mask, appearing so human that Lionel Luthor had, for a while, thought him to be the Traveller, stealing him away from the cornfield in which he'd found him to run experiments, only to toss him aside later on. Brainiac appeared human. And Lex

[kingofrooks]

It simply was that Bruce was used to shoving his pain all up into a box and using it as fuel to power him; taking something that would be seen as a weakness and using it as a strength. He rarely let anyone see his pain, and even more rarely let anyone touch it- simply because he didn't need or want it. Pain was, plainly put, the offering he placed on the altar of his Mission; the sacrifices he laid on the feet of his city. He took it all, swallowed it, and held it as it was his due.

Because it was him, and he could deal with it. Bruce set out to do this so that other people wouldn't have to feel the same pain that he had. And if he had the ability to, he would spare them it. Because that was what he picked up the cowl to do- even if the person had nothing to do with Gotham, nothing to do with his universe

[isitablurred]

"Alexander the Great, but it's a little more complicated than that, Bruce."

He turned, looked back at him, met his eyes, his back to the crate behind him. Clark couldn't know the differences between his Lex and Bruce's, and if he knew he might have gone on into the right details. As it was, he filled out details of their story, starting back at the beginning.

"Like I said, Lex knew I had secrets from early on. I saved two people - him and a boy from school called Whitney - in two days, and he started showing up all the time. Back then, he told me that he'd always wanted a brother, and we were as close as that, but as much as he resented my not sharing my secret with him, he craved being around me. He helped me out when I needed it, and he worked to begin his own empire away from his father's influence. We celebrated, the day he made his first million, and he took my advice on things, let me ask him for help, even leant us money. When Lois' sister was in trouble with a gang, Lex helped her out--although it wasn't always out of some

[kingofrooks]

This was starting to sound really familiar. Clark just had to add one line- He wanted to have everything I ever had, because he wanted to be me, and Clark's Luthor would've been so incredibly similar to Tommy Elliot that it sent shivers up and down Bruce's spine. As it was, Bruce's head was already starting to spin from the overload of information. He started to break it down, piece by piece, in his head

[isitablurred]

"I appreciate that, but Bruce--the reason I'm telling you isn't to ask you for help conquering my guilt. Not with Davis, and not with Lex. They're things that are a part of me, that form who I am and in turn will help me grow into what I will be. I don't need your help."

He stepped away from him again, this time making his way over to the couch and half stepping, half falling down to sit on it, one leg folded underneath him. He met Bruce's eyes across the room, and even smiled.

"I'm telling you for two reasons. First of all, because as I said Lex is my weakness. You only need to lean in and hiss into my ear 'But how can you help me when you failed Lex?' and I'll give you an opening in my shields so big you could park even your issues in the resulting gap