Fic: Echoes of the Last Age
Title: Echoes of the Last Age
Pairing: Superman and Batman
Rating: G.
Disclaimer: I don't own the heroes or a cryogenic chamber.
Warning: Death is referenced (Earth 51, so ... you know)
Word Count: 1600+
A/N: This is just a follow on, inspired by
arch_schatten's beautiful and tragic Age of Heroes. You might not need to read it to understand this story... but you really ought to read it.
Also, obviously, the Monitor/SBprime fight doesn't destroy this universe.
His world comes slowly into focus. Through the still-frosted glass he can dimly make out dozens, perhaps hundreds of other stasis tubes just like the one he is sealed in. A bit of ice slowly trickles its way down, temporarily offering him a better view of the room. It is empty, save for the tubes and console in the center of the room. He takes a deep breath and leaves his container and get a better handle on the situation.
It takes an hour, but he helps everyone else out of their chambers and gathers them together.
"Obviously something has happened. We need to move quickly to evaluate what situation we now find ourselves in."
A voice from the back. "Yeah, and kick his ass."
"Yes, Guy, obviously Batman will be one of our concerns. But we don't know what kind of world we will be entering."
He bows his head for a moment. "Let me go ahead. I will do a brief recon of the area and report back. If I haven't returned in 30 minutes, break up into groups and fight your way to the surface. If there's trouble, scatter. Meet at the old headquarters in two weeks, exactly. No earlier, no later. Don't draw undue attention to yourself until we know."
And with that Superman leaves the room.
Past the trophy room, he notices a small symbol inscribed on a wall. He touches it and the display in the room turns on. He hears the locks click closed all around him and spins.
"Relax, Clark."
Superman turns to face the screen. To face the Batman.
"We are alone. I locked the doors merely as a precaution."
He looks away from the monitor. "Bruce, why are--" The voice from the screen cuts him off.
"No time for questions, old friend. Not anymore. I am dead now. I have been for approximately 14 hours. I figure that you, with your gifts, will thaw first. Probably Diana and J'onn shortly after that. You will, of course, help everyone else get out. That will take about one hour. Then you will have to calm them down and organize them. And now, here you are...." The face on the screen twitches and the mouth forms what, on another man, might be called a smile. "Here you are doing the hero routine. You've come alone. On reconnaissance. Or so you told them. You hoped to have a chance to face me alone. To make me explain what I have done." Another pause.
The man in the monitor removes his cowl. His eyes are bloodshot. The skin underneath the mask is pale. "I cannot."
Superman leans forward, squinting at the monitor.
"That isn't to say that I didn't have my reasons, Clark. I did. And, I think, deep down you know them. But I know that there are no reasons which will make what I've done right. Because it isn't right. What I am doing, what I have been doing since you have been down there... it isn't about right anymore. It is about making a space where right and wrong make sense. A space where Superman makes sense." The face twitches again.
It still looks like what should be a smile.
Clark pounds his fists against the console. "Damn you, you self-righteous, arrogant bastard."
"You're probably angry at me... furious. Good. You'll need that. Remember it. Hold onto it." The figure in the monitor pauses again. "You ever see Shane, Clark? If that kid is going to grow up right, he needs to remember that Shane killed those men. That he cold-cocked the kid's dad. He needs to remember that Shane turned his back on him and rode out of town. He needs to know that Shane... well..." The face in the monitor looks down.
Superman closes his eyes. "I see."
"Now you probably want to know why I am telling you all this?"
Clark shakes his head. "No, I don't think that's necessary anymore."
The face in the monitor nods. "I want to be clear. I know you, Clark. I know the man you were, at any rate, and I trust that I..." A deep breath. "I trust that I haven't changed you. That you won't let me or this change you. You won't let go. You'll try to figure out what happened to me. Why I did it. You might even try to save my name and reputation, for the boys' sake if not for my own. You cannot. This final part of my plan relies on you." Another breath. "On your strength. You have to convince them not to try either. You have to... to let me ride off into the sunset."
Clark shifts his weight slightly.
"I am the bad guy. I chose to be the bad guy. It had to be me. It had to be someone who wasn't meta. No... That sounds too self-indulgent. I chose what I became. I can live with that." Another twitch. "Or not, it seems." The figure moves closer to the camera. "I have no right ask you this, Clark. I have to ask you... For what we were. For what I hope will come... Erase me. Take everything that was mine, everything... and destroy it. Batman has to vanish from the JLA, from the Earth. Do it publicly. Let the people see you. Do it with anger in your heart. Have the boys disown me. Let them believe it, too. The people will trust us again." A nod of the head. "Will trust you again. Will believe in the possibility of justice again."
The figure in the monitor looks to the side. "Damn it. I figure you've got about 5 minutes before you need to head back. You told them 30 minutes, right? Protocols. Look, there is so much to say and so much that can never be said. I won't apologize. I don't think it was a mistake. It was terrible. It was worse than I had imagined. I lost my soul and your trust. Which was a terrible price to pay, but I paid it in full and still here I am, needing this favor from you."
The man's face looks down. "I can't, Clark. I don't have time, we don't have time. I... There is a schematic here. I'm going to flash it on the screen. I need you to memorize it, because this message is about to self destruct. It tells you what you need to shut down all the safeguards." He looks to the side. "45 seconds. Dammit. Clark. Look, I need you to be Superman for me. I need you not to save me. I need... but, see, I am a bastard. I need someone to know. I need you to know. Maybe only Superman has the strength..." A long pause.
One last word comes from the speakers. "Please."
Clark holds on to the sound of that word as he turns to go. Maybe it is his imagination, but as the locks click back open, he imagines he hears two more words. "Thank you."
He returns to the rest of the heroes just as Diana and Arthur are finishing up explaining their plans of attack.
Superman steps to the front of the assemblage and clears his throat. "That won't be necessary. Batman is dead. He was..." He pauses and looks at Robin and Nightwing. "He became all that which he despised. He became a shadow of the good man we knew. He nearly destroyed this world and we will have years of hard work to remove his stain from it. His very name, which once inspired fear in the hearts of criminals, now spreads fear to everyone. So we won't be using it anymore. His name will be stripped from the annals of the JLA."
Nightwing edges forward but stops when Superman extends his arm, palm up. "Son, I know what you want to say, but you must know he betrayed you and Robin more than anyone else in this room. Doubly so. People on the outside will fear the two of you more than the rest of us. Will look for any sign of sympathy for him."
Superman clears his throat again. "Now then. I have cleared a path to the surface. You should all go. Now. You have about 15 minutes until I dismantle this place with my bare hands."
Guy Gardner steps forward. "I can help. I'd love to pay that sonofabi--"
Dick Grayson lays Guy out with a solid punch to the jaw, but Tim holds him back from doing any more damage. He looks around the room and then back at Superman. "Superman has just given us an order. I intend to follow it. I suggest we all get going because I'd hate to have to deck any more of you." He nods at the man of steel.
Superman exhales slowly. "Thank you, Nightwing. But I don't think you'll need to punch anyone else on my behalf. Oh and, son, I'd like you to look after a few civilians that were also put in stasis. They are on the second level. I told them to wait for you."
Superman turns back to the crowd. "Now go!"
They leave him alone in the caverns.
He takes a few minutes to wander around, looking at the collected items. Costumes of defeated... dead... no, murdered villains. He finds what he is looking for in a safe tucked away in the back of the cave. It is a bound journal. The entries are written by hand. Pictures and newspaper clippings from another lifetime. A time when two men could be declared the World's Finest. The words on the page seem to blur and go out of focus. He reads each entry, quickly, as he has little time.
It is the first thing he destroys.
Pairing: Superman and Batman
Rating: G.
Disclaimer: I don't own the heroes or a cryogenic chamber.
Warning: Death is referenced (Earth 51, so ... you know)
Word Count: 1600+
A/N: This is just a follow on, inspired by
arch_schatten's beautiful and tragic Age of Heroes. You might not need to read it to understand this story... but you really ought to read it.
Also, obviously, the Monitor/SBprime fight doesn't destroy this universe.
His world comes slowly into focus. Through the still-frosted glass he can dimly make out dozens, perhaps hundreds of other stasis tubes just like the one he is sealed in. A bit of ice slowly trickles its way down, temporarily offering him a better view of the room. It is empty, save for the tubes and console in the center of the room. He takes a deep breath and leaves his container and get a better handle on the situation.
It takes an hour, but he helps everyone else out of their chambers and gathers them together.
"Obviously something has happened. We need to move quickly to evaluate what situation we now find ourselves in."
A voice from the back. "Yeah, and kick his ass."
"Yes, Guy, obviously Batman will be one of our concerns. But we don't know what kind of world we will be entering."
He bows his head for a moment. "Let me go ahead. I will do a brief recon of the area and report back. If I haven't returned in 30 minutes, break up into groups and fight your way to the surface. If there's trouble, scatter. Meet at the old headquarters in two weeks, exactly. No earlier, no later. Don't draw undue attention to yourself until we know."
And with that Superman leaves the room.
Past the trophy room, he notices a small symbol inscribed on a wall. He touches it and the display in the room turns on. He hears the locks click closed all around him and spins.
"Relax, Clark."
Superman turns to face the screen. To face the Batman.
"We are alone. I locked the doors merely as a precaution."
He looks away from the monitor. "Bruce, why are--" The voice from the screen cuts him off.
"No time for questions, old friend. Not anymore. I am dead now. I have been for approximately 14 hours. I figure that you, with your gifts, will thaw first. Probably Diana and J'onn shortly after that. You will, of course, help everyone else get out. That will take about one hour. Then you will have to calm them down and organize them. And now, here you are...." The face on the screen twitches and the mouth forms what, on another man, might be called a smile. "Here you are doing the hero routine. You've come alone. On reconnaissance. Or so you told them. You hoped to have a chance to face me alone. To make me explain what I have done." Another pause.
The man in the monitor removes his cowl. His eyes are bloodshot. The skin underneath the mask is pale. "I cannot."
Superman leans forward, squinting at the monitor.
"That isn't to say that I didn't have my reasons, Clark. I did. And, I think, deep down you know them. But I know that there are no reasons which will make what I've done right. Because it isn't right. What I am doing, what I have been doing since you have been down there... it isn't about right anymore. It is about making a space where right and wrong make sense. A space where Superman makes sense." The face twitches again.
It still looks like what should be a smile.
Clark pounds his fists against the console. "Damn you, you self-righteous, arrogant bastard."
"You're probably angry at me... furious. Good. You'll need that. Remember it. Hold onto it." The figure in the monitor pauses again. "You ever see Shane, Clark? If that kid is going to grow up right, he needs to remember that Shane killed those men. That he cold-cocked the kid's dad. He needs to remember that Shane turned his back on him and rode out of town. He needs to know that Shane... well..." The face in the monitor looks down.
Superman closes his eyes. "I see."
"Now you probably want to know why I am telling you all this?"
Clark shakes his head. "No, I don't think that's necessary anymore."
The face in the monitor nods. "I want to be clear. I know you, Clark. I know the man you were, at any rate, and I trust that I..." A deep breath. "I trust that I haven't changed you. That you won't let me or this change you. You won't let go. You'll try to figure out what happened to me. Why I did it. You might even try to save my name and reputation, for the boys' sake if not for my own. You cannot. This final part of my plan relies on you." Another breath. "On your strength. You have to convince them not to try either. You have to... to let me ride off into the sunset."
Clark shifts his weight slightly.
"I am the bad guy. I chose to be the bad guy. It had to be me. It had to be someone who wasn't meta. No... That sounds too self-indulgent. I chose what I became. I can live with that." Another twitch. "Or not, it seems." The figure moves closer to the camera. "I have no right ask you this, Clark. I have to ask you... For what we were. For what I hope will come... Erase me. Take everything that was mine, everything... and destroy it. Batman has to vanish from the JLA, from the Earth. Do it publicly. Let the people see you. Do it with anger in your heart. Have the boys disown me. Let them believe it, too. The people will trust us again." A nod of the head. "Will trust you again. Will believe in the possibility of justice again."
The figure in the monitor looks to the side. "Damn it. I figure you've got about 5 minutes before you need to head back. You told them 30 minutes, right? Protocols. Look, there is so much to say and so much that can never be said. I won't apologize. I don't think it was a mistake. It was terrible. It was worse than I had imagined. I lost my soul and your trust. Which was a terrible price to pay, but I paid it in full and still here I am, needing this favor from you."
The man's face looks down. "I can't, Clark. I don't have time, we don't have time. I... There is a schematic here. I'm going to flash it on the screen. I need you to memorize it, because this message is about to self destruct. It tells you what you need to shut down all the safeguards." He looks to the side. "45 seconds. Dammit. Clark. Look, I need you to be Superman for me. I need you not to save me. I need... but, see, I am a bastard. I need someone to know. I need you to know. Maybe only Superman has the strength..." A long pause.
One last word comes from the speakers. "Please."
Clark holds on to the sound of that word as he turns to go. Maybe it is his imagination, but as the locks click back open, he imagines he hears two more words. "Thank you."
He returns to the rest of the heroes just as Diana and Arthur are finishing up explaining their plans of attack.
Superman steps to the front of the assemblage and clears his throat. "That won't be necessary. Batman is dead. He was..." He pauses and looks at Robin and Nightwing. "He became all that which he despised. He became a shadow of the good man we knew. He nearly destroyed this world and we will have years of hard work to remove his stain from it. His very name, which once inspired fear in the hearts of criminals, now spreads fear to everyone. So we won't be using it anymore. His name will be stripped from the annals of the JLA."
Nightwing edges forward but stops when Superman extends his arm, palm up. "Son, I know what you want to say, but you must know he betrayed you and Robin more than anyone else in this room. Doubly so. People on the outside will fear the two of you more than the rest of us. Will look for any sign of sympathy for him."
Superman clears his throat again. "Now then. I have cleared a path to the surface. You should all go. Now. You have about 15 minutes until I dismantle this place with my bare hands."
Guy Gardner steps forward. "I can help. I'd love to pay that sonofabi--"
Dick Grayson lays Guy out with a solid punch to the jaw, but Tim holds him back from doing any more damage. He looks around the room and then back at Superman. "Superman has just given us an order. I intend to follow it. I suggest we all get going because I'd hate to have to deck any more of you." He nods at the man of steel.
Superman exhales slowly. "Thank you, Nightwing. But I don't think you'll need to punch anyone else on my behalf. Oh and, son, I'd like you to look after a few civilians that were also put in stasis. They are on the second level. I told them to wait for you."
Superman turns back to the crowd. "Now go!"
They leave him alone in the caverns.
He takes a few minutes to wander around, looking at the collected items. Costumes of defeated... dead... no, murdered villains. He finds what he is looking for in a safe tucked away in the back of the cave. It is a bound journal. The entries are written by hand. Pictures and newspaper clippings from another lifetime. A time when two men could be declared the World's Finest. The words on the page seem to blur and go out of focus. He reads each entry, quickly, as he has little time.
It is the first thing he destroys.