New Fic: Lost Together

[evangelfic]

Title: Lost Together
Author: evangelene
Pairing: Superman/Batman (Justice League Animated)
Rating: R
Summary: Stranded together under a red sun, Bruce and Clark journey across a deserted planet. A twist on the "Hereafter" episode of Justice League.

Notes: Written for the worlds_finest 2006 Secret Santa Exchange, which can be found at: superbatsanta. Specifically for tmelange's prompt: From the Justice League Animated Series, the episode where Superman is presumed dead: a story where BOTH Superman and Batman are sent into the desolate future. Bonus: Batman is hurt (hurt/comfort).

I'm afraid I didn't really get a Batman physical injury in the story (I was thinking about giving him a broken leg, but didn't want Clark to have to carry him everywhere). In case you've never seen the "Hereafter" two-part episode of Justice League TAS, the story that is relevant to this fic is: Toyman hits Superman with a laser beam that seemingly vaporizes him, after Superman jumps in front of the gun that was aimed at Batman and Wonder Woman. The world assumes Superman is dead, and mourns him. In reality, Superman has been transported to a red sun planet, which is mostly desert. Superman keeps picking up a signal from the Watchtower in his comm link, so he follows it in a car that is transported there with him. He ends up finding the Watchtower after a long journey. It turns out that the planet is Earth, far into the future. And Vandal Savage is the only man alive, but he's a nice guy now who admits that it's his fault the Earth is all messed up and deserted now. He sends Superman back in a time machine, begging him to prevent his younger self from destroying the Earth. For images and more info, check this site.

In this version, Batman is transported with Superman. So without further ado...



Both men stood over the wolf's still body. Bruce had killed it quickly with two batarangs to the skull. He looked down silently at his kill. Clark looked at Bruce.

"They would have killed us if you hadn't taken out the alpha, Bruce. You had no choice."

"I know," Bruce's voice was irritated. He never liked it when Clark guessed his thoughts, "We need the food anyway. Which means we'll have to-"

Clark rested a hand on his friend's shoulder.

"I'll take care of it," he gave a small smile, "Raised on a farm, remember?"

Bruce just nodded and walked to the car. Probably to get a drink of water, a luxury that was getting scarcer every day.

Clark skinned and cleaned the animal quickly, using one of the batarangs he dislodged as a blade. Bruce had already constructed a makeshift spit to cook the meat on over the campfire. Clark felt that he could eat the whole thing himself, but both men were disciplined enough to only eat a small ration. It was tough and gamy, but Clark couldn't remember a better tasting meal in his life. They would let the rest smoke over the fire overnight. Bruce said it was the best way to keep it from spoiling.

The desert got so cold at night.

"Here," Clark said, holding the fur pelt out to Bruce's huddled body, "It's dry now. It will help with the cold a little."

"You take it," Bruce said quickly, "The cold is a greater shock to your system. You're not used to being vulnerable to temperature."

"You're just as cold as I am," Clark argued.

"I have gloves and the mask. You have tights."

"Fine," Clark sighed, pulling the fur around his shoulders.

"I'm going to sleep," Bruce said, "You should do the same. We need our strength."

Clark nodded in the darkness. We wouldn't let himself think it: Need our strength for what? Both men were lying to themselves because they had no choice. They had been in this vast desert for over a week, chasing a phantom signal from the Watchtower. It was all they had to cling to, and they both held on with everything they had. There had to be a way out of this place. Eight days held prisoner under an unforgiving red sun. Nine nights of freezing temperatures.

There had been some luck. The car that had been transported with them. Bruce had insisted, correctly, that they take the fuel-efficient compact, leaving Clark to gaze longingly at the vintage red Thunderbird that had also made the strange journey to this planet. There had been enough supplies and fuel to get them this far, but it wouldn't last much longer.

They followed the signal, not knowing what to expect when they reached it. Clark had stopped believing that the rest of the League would be waiting for them at the end of the yellow brick road. He was sure Bruce never believed it in the first place. It was better not to discuss it. Just follow the signal and let it decide what they did next.

Clark was exhausted. He hurt everywhere, but he was even starting to get used to that. Sore muscles, heavy eyelids, stabbing hunger pains. It was all so foreign to him, but he couldn't let it bother him. It made him appreciate Batman more, knowing how hard he pushed himself through pain and exhaustion every day. Clark sighed darkly at their bad luck. If any other two League members had been transported here, they would be doing a lot better. Clark was the only one who would have been affected by the red sun, and Bruce never had powers in the first place. It was the worst possible combination of heroes.

He watched Bruce sleep by the fire. He had been wearing the mask most of the time, as protection from the sun during the day, and for warmth at night. He took it off when he slept, and Clark was taken by how peaceful he looked. He had over a week of beard growth, which was nothing compared to the wild mass of hair that now covered Clark's head. Normally very slow-growing, it seemed every follicle went nuts under the red sun. Bruce had offered him a razor-sharp batarang to shave with, but Clark had declined quickly, claiming that he liked the new look. Secretly he was nervous about putting sharp objects to his skin. He was uncomfortable with bleeding, even the slightest amount.

Clark pulled the fur tighter around his shoulders and hugged his knees to his chest, still sitting as he watched his friend shiver in his sleep. His breath leaving his body in white clouds. The fire crackled between them and danced on Bruce's dark features.

He knew that any one of his teammates would have been more use to him in this place, but he was glad it was Bruce who was here to keep him company. It occurred to Clark that they would likely die here if things didn't change soon. Bruce probably knew that too. Clark knew it was selfish, but if this was the end, he was glad Bruce would be there.

He laid down on the hard, freezing ground, edging as close to the fire as possible. His head was lined up with Bruce's, facing him. He watched his shoulders shake as Clark felt his own teeth chatter. He vaguely recalled a wilderness first aid lesson from grade school about preventing pneumonia. Combining body heat to fight freezing temperatures. He remembered sniggering with the rest of the class when they watched the video of two men huddled together on a mountainside. It didn't seem so funny now.

He stood quietly and moved toward his sleeping friend. He lowered himself beside him, keeping some distance. He spread the pelt over both of them, moving closer so it would reach. He watched Bruce's back move up and down slowly. Clark reached a hesitant hand out, reminding himself that he was doing this for safety reasons. It had nothing to do with being alone here with Bruce, or how much he may have imagined less dire versions of this same situation.

His hand found Bruce's shoulder, and was met with a full body shudder and a sleepy grunt. Clark quickly pulled his hand back, eyes wide, wondering what he was thinking. Batman was going to wake up and tear his throat out.

The silky fabric of Bruce's cape was once again under Clark's fingers. It was so smooth, so easy to glide his palm over, down one strong arm. It reached the elbow and slid down over Bruce's stomach until it reached the dusty ground. His arm now wrapped firmly around his teammate, Clark shifted forward so no distance remained between their bodies. He cringed, waiting for Bruce to wake up and freak out. He prepared his list of reasons of why this was necessary. None of them would really explain why Clark's other hand had moved into Bruce's hair, fingers gently weaving through the soft strands. Nor would they explain why Clark had pressed his forehead into the back of Bruce's neck, inhaling slowly and considering how easy it would be to press his mouth against the soft skin. To just taste it, just a little-

Bruce's body shook and shifted, breaking Clark's insane train of thought. He bit his lip, waiting for the worst. To his astonishment, Bruce only exhaled slowly and moved a gloved hand over the naked one that was wrapped around him.

Clark let out a breath that he had been holding since Bruce moved as slick fingers tangled with his own, gripping tightly. Clark gave them a gentle squeeze and relaxed, sighing happily against Bruce's neck. The fire burned bright beside them. Clark's eyes followed the curling smoke up to the vast stars above him. For the first time since they were transported here, he realized that the desert was quite beautiful at night.

***********

Clark was alone when he woke up the next morning. The sun was already blazing overhead. His mouth was dry. He stood up, groggy, hoping there was water left. He saw Bruce by the car, looking impatient.

"Here. Eat this," he said gruffly, holding out a smoked piece of meat.

Clark tore through it with some effort, knowing it would have to be enough to appease his empty stomach for awhile. Bruce handed him the end of a bottle of water, grimly noting that there was only one bottle left after this one.

"Let's get going," Bruce said as Clark swallowed the water, "We're down to our last tank of gas. Hopefully it will be enough."

They both knew it wouldn't be enough. They could have a hundred more tanks of gas. There was no point to this journey, except it was all they had.

Bruce opened the car door, apparently having no intention of discussing the previous night. Because Clark was never able to let things go, he nervously brought it up.

"Bruce, last night. I-"

"It was smart thinking, Clark. Combining body heat to prevent pneumonia."

"Bruce, it wasn't just-"

"Get in the car, Clark."

Clark felt something welling up inside of him as he entered the car on the passenger side. Frustration, most likely. He should be relieved. Bruce wasn't freaked out. He understood that Clark was only trying to protect him from the elements. This was all good, but Clark still felt like an idiot. He wasn't sure what he had been hoping for.

They drove for an hours in near silence, both concentrating on the signal that buzzed in their ears. Clark liked to believe that it was getting stronger. He could tell Bruce thought so too, as he pushed the car to the limits of its four-cylinder engine. The landscape around them was changing, desert looking more like tundra. The air was getting colder, which wasn't good.

The car gave out after six hours, the engine choking on the last drops of fuel.

"We'll have to walk from here."

Clark could barely stand, but there was no reason to argue. They had to walk. What else was there?

They walked for four hours, each carrying half the supplies over their shoulders in capes that had been converted into makeshift sacks. It started to snow as they walked, and Clark saw snowcapped cliffs ahead of them.

"This is good. We can eat the snow for hydration," Bruce observed.

"If we don't freeze to death."

Bruce didn't respond, and Clark regretted his comment immediately. It was far too pessimistic, and not what they needed right now.

Another hour of walking and Bruce pointed to a small cave.

"We can rest in there tonight."

Clark followed him through the narrow opening, grateful that he could stop walking. Even more grateful when he saw that the cave was more spacious inside than the entrance suggested.

Bruce started a fire as Clark collapsed to the floor. His legs throbbed, his vision was blurred. He needed water badly, and he retrieved the last bottle from his cape.

"Listen," Bruce said suddenly, holding up a hand.

"What is it?"

"Shhh."

Clark strained to hear, thinking perhaps Bruce heard another person. A search party. Anyone. He didn't hear anything.

"I don't know what-"

"Running water. There's a stream in this cave."

Clark listened, and heard it too. But the cave was so small, and he couldn't see where the sound was coming from. Maybe they were both going crazy.

Bruce pressed his ear to the ground.

"It's running beneath us. There must be a crack in the floor somewhere..." He pulled a flashlight from his belt and moved the beam across the floor. "There. You can see water through here."

He pulled another tool from his belt and aimed it at the weak spot on the floor. A red beam traced a square around the crack and, seconds later, the hole was wide enough to reach into. Bruce dipped his cupped hands in and brought the water to his lips.

"It's fresh," he said excitedly, "Clark, finish that bottle and then give it to me."

Clark happily drained the whole bottle and handed it over. He watched Bruce fill it and drink it then fill it again. Clark smiled because Bruce was smiling. This would make all the difference. They would be healthy again. They would finish this journey and they would go home.

"Is there any chance that there's also a pizza joint under the floor?" Clark joked.

"I'll check later," Bruce said, leaning back against a wall after finishing a third bottle. He pulled the mask off. His hair was getting long, and it stuck out in all directions. Clark grinned as he handed him some meat.

"Bon appetit," Clark said cheerfully. Bruce responded by raising the food like a toast before eating it.

***********

The wind howled outside the cave, blowing snow with it. The excitement of the renewed water supply had worn off, leaving both men to silently contemplate their fate.

"They probably think we're dead," Clark said suddenly. He glanced at Bruce, whose mouth rested on tented fingers as he stared into the fire between them.

"It's possible."

"It's strange to think about. What if there was a funeral?"

"I'm sure there would be. You're Superman. I've seen the emergency plans for your memorial, should the need arise. It's impressive, if not ostentatious."

Clark grimaced. "I just wish I could tell them - my parents, Lois - that I'm alright."

Bruce didn't say anything, just folded his arms tighter across his chest. Clark wanted to offer him the pelt again, but knew Bruce would only refuse it for the third time that evening.

"What about you? What happens when Batman dies?"

"Life goes on."

"What about Bruce Wayne?"

"There's a plan for that. No one will ever know that Bruce Wayne was Batman."

Clark decided not to press for more information. The conversation topic was doing nothing to keep his mind off the cold anyway. Time for a change.

"So, I've noticed that Diana-"

"Clark," his voice was threatening, but Clark ignored it.

"I think she has a thing for you."

"She doesn't."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Because it would be insane."

"I don't think it's so-"

"What's she attracted to, Clark? My winning personality, or the fact that I look like a giant bat? She's never seen me out of costume, so unless she's attracted to the lower half of my face, she has no reason to have a 'thing' for me."

"But haven't you noticed that-"

"I'm not continuing this conversation. It's ridiculous."

Clark fumed silently. They had spent long, harsh days together, and, more than the intense heat and unforgiving cold, it was the endless boredom that was starting to wear Clark down. He made his living talking to people, and he craved conversation.

"Vanilla or chocolate?" he said finally.

"Pardon?"

"Vanilla or chocolate?"

"You can't be serious."

"It's a simple question, Bruce, and I am at the end of my rope here. We're stuck in this...place...for who knows how long and I need someone to talk to." Clark's voice was angrier than he meant it to be. He was tired, sore, and he didn't mean to take it out on Bruce. He was about to apologize when-

"Vanilla."

"What?"

"Vanilla. I'm answering your stupid question."

"Really? That's not the answer I expected."

"Surprise."

Clark's lips twitched a little, picturing Batman eating vanilla...anything. He decided to push his luck.

"Crunchy or smooth?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Peanut butter."

"I don't eat peanut butter. I'm not seven. Or Wally."

Clark laughed. "I miss Wally. More than I would have thought."

"Me too."

***********

Clark was awoken in the middle of the night by the sound of Bruce's voice. It was panicked, but incoherent. Clark sat up quickly and saw his friend's body convulsing as he slept. Muffled screams and pleas for someone to stop echoed off the cave walls. It took Clark a few groggy seconds to figure out that Bruce must be having a nightmare. He moved to the sleeping man's side, placing his hands on him and gently shaking him.

"Bruce? Bruce. It's ok. It's Clark."

"Clark," Bruce repeated, still asleep. His face and body calmed as he rolled onto his back. He was facing Clark, but his eyes remained closed.

"It's just a dream, Bruce. It's ok now." Clark realized the absurdity of his statement as soon as he said it. It's ok Bruce. It's just a dream. Wake up and you'll see that were trapped in an endless wasteland in god knows what galaxy, marching toward our inevitable deaths together. Everything is fine.

"Clark," Bruce said again, a hand reaching up to Clark's face, "I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what, Bruce?" Clark pressed his cheek into Bruce's gloved palm.

"You tried to save me...Toyman..."

Clark ran a soothing hand through Bruce's hair. Bruce's eyes opened, glinting in the dim light.

"You shouldn't have tried to save me, Clark."

Clark brushed a thumb over Bruce's cheek as he stroked his hair.

"I thought he would kill you."

"You shouldn't have to die like this, Superman."

Clark's hand stilled at Bruce's dark admission. They were going to die. They both knew it.

"We're not going to die, Bruce," Clark said, trying to convince himself, "We got here, so there's a way to get out of here. Besides, even knowing what Toyman's weapon would do to us, I wouldn't change what I did. I'm not glad we're here, but I'm glad we're here together."

Bruce's eyes searched Clark's. His fingers moved to the back of Clark's head, curling into a fist, grabbing a handful of long hair. Clark felt the slightest amount of pressure pushing his head toward Bruce's, and he took it as an invitation. He hovered for a moment first, glancing up into Bruce's eyes for permission. They didn't object, so he leaned down and brought their lips gently together. The kiss was slow and careful, until Clark felt Bruce's mouth move under his. Then it got deeper, harder, more urgent as Bruce moved his hands down to Clark's waist. They rolled so Bruce was on top, pulling his cape and gloves off. Hands pushed under Clark's shirt and lifted up, exposing his chest to the bitter cold. Clark sucked in a breath but didn't protest. He wouldn't stop this for anything.

He watched as Bruce undressed himself, because Clark wouldn't know where to begin with removing that armor. The heavy belt hit the ground with a clatter, followed by the tunic. The fire glowed against Bruce's bare chest and shoulders, both scarred repeatedly. Clark had seen them before, but they made him flinch every time.

Hands were back on him, undoing his belt. Pulling off his boots. Pausing to trace lines down his stomach, across his chest, up to his face.

Finally they were both naked. It was freezing, so they moved quickly. When Bruce entered him, Clark nearly howled from feeling so many things at once. It hurt a lot, not like kryptonite, but a splitting, burning pain that he'd never felt before. Bruce kissed him, calming him.

"I know," he whispered against Clark's ear, "I know. There's pain. It gets better, I promise. Please, Clark, I would never hurt you."

As Bruce moved inside him the pain melted into something else. It was like every nerve in Clark's body was being called to attention. He had never felt this before either. Each thrust went directly to his brain, causing one word to fall out of his mouth again and again.

"Bruce."

God, I had no idea anything could feel like this. Would it be this good if I had my powers?

"Bruce."

I have wanted to be this close to you for so long. You have no idea.

"Bruce."

Please don't stop. Don't ever stop. We'll be perfect together.

Clark's mantra was mangled into a choked cry as he came between their stomachs. Bruce's wild eyes bore into Clark's, then closed as he grunted and came in hot bursts inside Clark.

Both men dressed quickly afterwards, feeling the cold as soon as the rush left their bodies. They fell asleep tangled against each other next to the fire.

***********

They had been home for almost a week. The journey was over, the shock of finding Vandal Savage at the end of the rainbow had faded. The world was saved.

After the work was done the two heroes stood together for a moment. Clark wasn't sure what to say. Before he could form all that he was feeling into words, Batman abruptly announced that he was going home. Not even a glance back as he walked toward the black plane.

Clark went home too. He stayed in the shower for over an hour, then shaved and cut his hair. It was surprisingly hard to do, mentally. The wild mane was proof that the past two weeks had really happened. He was going to dispose of his tattered costume, but then neatly folded it and placed it in a drawer. He'd bring it to the fortress later. Another trophy, of sorts.

He ordered the pizza he'd been craving all this time and ate the whole thing with a carton of milk. He read a book, watched TV. He wanted this all to feel normal again. He kept trying to run his fingers through long hair that wasn't there anymore.

Everything happened so quickly after that night in the cave, and it was never acknowledged. They pushed through the snow to find a lush jungle, and, within it, the fallen Watchtower. Then Savage and the revelation that the strange planet they were on was Earth. Then the time machine was discovered, and then they were home.

That was a week ago. Since his return, Clark hadn't slept at all. He didn't really need to anymore, but he wanted to. Somehow he felt that going to sleep would close this weird chapter of his life, and maybe that was exactly why his body was resisting. He didn't want closure until he wrapped up...everything.

He knew someone who would certainly be up at this hour.

***********

"What happened to calling first?" asked a dark voice from the high-backed chair.

"I'm sorry. I took a chance that you'd be here," Clark moved through the cave slowly, stopping several feet behind Bruce, "I haven't been able to sleep."

"Me neither."

Clark took a breath, "Look, Bruce, I think we need to talk about what-"

Bruce stood quickly and faced Clark. He wasn't in costume, like Clark was. He looked tired.

"We both know what happened. We thought we were going to die. We were exhausted, crazy, and terrified and we reacted by...turning to one another. But now we're both here, and we're fine, and everything is back to normal. It's not the outcome we expected when we...were in the cave."

Clark took a moment to process Bruce's version of the story.

"Are you saying that you regret what we did?"

"It shouldn't have happened. It wouldn't have happened if we had known we would survive."

"Do you regret it?" Clark's tone was edgier as he repeated his question. He was tired of doing this stupid dance with Bruce. Years of Clark feeling that there was something important between them, and sometimes being convinced that Bruce felt it too. But Bruce would always reason away any emotions, any chance of happiness whenever one presented itself. Now something had actually happened between them. Something real, even in the most surreal of circumstances, and Clark wasn't going to let him walk away from this one.

"You were scared, Clark. You thought-"

"Yes! I was scared!" Clark was almost yelling now, "I thought I was going to die! You've said that. More importantly, I thought you were going to die, Bruce, and that was what scared me the most."

"Fear and sympathy are strong emotions," Bruce said calmly, "They can make you do irrational things."

"Sympathy?!" Clark had endured enough of this. He strode toward Bruce, voice still angry. "It wasn't fear or sympathy or insanity that made me kiss you, Bruce."

"Maybe you were just bored, then," Bruce said, stone-faced.

"Maybe I love you, you idiot!"

Clark's outburst bounced off the cave walls. Bruce kept his face even, but his heartbeat betrayed him.

"Clark, you've been through a stressful ordeal. You don't know what you're saying."

"Tell me you regret what happened."

"You're probably in shock," Bruce continued, his voice wavering slightly as Clark came within inches of him, "There's no need to dwell on what happened. The circumstances were..."

"Tell me you regret it, Bruce!"

"I-"

"Because I don't. I'm glad it happened. And I also don't regret telling you that I love you, because I do, even if you don't feel the same way."

Bruce was silent a moment, struggling to form his next words.

"Of course I do," he said finally.

Clark didn't expect to win so easily. He smiled wide and placed his hands on Bruce's arms.

"Ok, then," he said, noticing that Bruce seemed bewildered by his own admission.

"Ok."

Clark looked at his friend's conflicted face, unsure of what should happen next.

"Bruce, I-"

His words were cut off as Bruce's mouth collided furiously with his own. Hands that seemed to push him away and pull him closer at the same time landed on his body, finally settling on the back of his neck and on his lower back.

The kiss was broken eventually by Bruce's unfortunate need for oxygen. By that time, Clark's mind finally relaxed. He had acknowledgment from Bruce, and with it he had closure. The ordeal they had just gone through was finally over, and only this remained.

"You look tired," Clark murmured, kissing Bruce again.

"I was thinking about going to bed. Care to join me?"

"I thought I might just curl up on the floor here. I'm kinda used to that now."

"Suit yourself. If you change your mind, I'll be upstairs on my king-sized bed."

Clark was already halfway up the stairs.

***********

Clark sighed as he curled against Bruce in the middle of the bed. He was pleased to discover that, even with superpowers, sex with Batman was amazing.

"You know, Clark," he heard Bruce mumble, "This room is heated. You don't have to press against me for warmth anymore."

"You can't be too careful."

Bruce made a muffled noise and Clark kissed the back of his head, knowing Bruce was happy.

"I can't believe it took something that ridiculous to get us together," Clark said to the darkness. The only response was slow, deep breathing. Bruce had fallen asleep.

Clark drifted off beside him, his first sleep in over a week. He dreamed of the desert.