Heroes of the Squared Circle 14: Zero Hour
Title: Zero Hour
Relationship: Clark/Bruce
Characters: Clark Kent, Bruce Wayne, Guy Gardner, Lex Luthor, Harvey Dent, Selina Kyle, Darkseid
Continuity: Heroes of the Squared Circle, a DC/pro wrestling fusion ( click for notes and all chapters).
Warnings/Spoilers: None
Rating: PG
Word Count 2400
Summary: It's the JLI's last show, and Bruce and Clark's last match together before moving to the DCW.
Notes: Thanks to rdfox for suggesting the final fate of the ring at the end of the show!
It was a form of redemption through violence for me and for the fans. It is the best drug in the world, that rush from the fans. It is amazing. --Tommy Dreamer
"Guy, we need to make hundreds of posters," Tora said.
Guy looked up from his pens with a glare. "I want to get it right."
"You've been working on that one for twenty minutes now!" Bea plucked it away from him, ignoring his protest. A painstakingly drawn and implausibly muscled Warrior, brandishing an equally implausible number of teeth, glowered out from under a "Zero Hour" graphic. "Maybe we should have taken Luthor up on his offer to mass-produce us some 'handmade' posters."
"No way," Bruce said without looking up from the poster he was working on. "They have to be authentic. JLI fans can smell insincerity a mile away."
"Well, this poster is authentically awesome," Guy said, handing it over reluctantly to Bea.
Clark added the final touches to his tenth poster and gave it to Bea in turn, shaking the cramp out of his fingers. "How are the message boards?"
"Still buzzing," Selina Kyle said from behind her laptop. "God, do these people ever get tired of trying to guess what's real and what's fake about all this?"
"Let's hope not," said Bruce. He held up his own poster, in which the JLI logo was slowly being wiped out by a large purple eraser. "There we go."
"Good use of negative space," Clark said.
"Thank you kindly." Bruce grabbed a fresh piece of paper and got back to work.
They plastered the city with posters, they kept Twitter and the message boards humming with speculation, they got interviewed on every wrestling podcast and local radio station they had connections with.
And when Zero Hour came, they were ready.
: : :
"Too bad we didn't fill the house like this before we got bought out," Scott Free noted, peeking out at the stamping, chanting crowd. The Warrior was in the middle of the ring, delivering a non-sequitur-laden rant about history being re-written ("like the white obliterating light as hot as a googleplex of stars!"). He challenged Two-Face to a rematch for the championship, and Two-Face showed up at the top of the ramp, smirking and preening with his belt.
"You know Mr. Luthor will never let this show finish," Two-Face sneered. "So sure, I'll accept your challenge. We'll even make it the main event. You'll never reach the end of the show, you big blowhard."
"We'll see what you say when destiny knocks on your head, Two-Face!" yelled the Warrior, and the last show of the JLI had begun.
The matches were mostly recaps of old, popular feuds or wrap-ups of current storylines. The crowd was hot, roaring and booing with every match, and there were no "You sold out" chants, to everyone's relief.
Finally, they reached the penultimate match, and Clark stood in the Gorilla Position, listening to Billionaire Brucie stand in the middle of the ring and implore Country Clark Kent to come out and wrestle him.
"I know I lost that I Quit match," Brucie said. "I know that means I can never ask you to wrestle me again. So I'm not asking, Kent. I'm just...standing here and hoping."
He spread his hands out imploringly.
"I'm hoping any minute now I'll hear your music. I'm hoping you'll come down here and we'll wrestle one more time--not as enemies, but as equals. I'm hoping you're a good enough man--a better man than I am--to not hold a grudge."
There was a long, breathless pause as he stood alone in the ring, and Clark found himself jogging in place as the moment stretched excruciatingly. Would his music ever hit?
Finally Brucie dropped his hands to his sides, his shoulders slumped in defeat. "I understand," he said. "But Kent, I just want you to know that I--"
And finally Clark heard the strains of the generic banjo music that had been his opening theme for so long, and for the first time he found them welcome rather than annoying. The crowd screamed its approval as he jogged down the ramp, beaming and grinning and shaking hands, to join Brucie in the ring.
"One last match," he said. "For old times' sake."
And he held out his hand.
Brucie looked from his face to the outstretched hand, then back again. His eyes returned to Clark's hand and he bit his lip, his conflicting emotions playing across his face for all the audience to see. Would he be able to overcome his heel instincts and treat Country Clark as an equal?
Then he reached out and slowly, carefully clasped Clark's hand.
They stood in the ring for a moment hand in hand, Clark grinning, a slow smile dawning on Brucie's face in answer. Then Clark reached out and clapped him briefly on the shoulder (Brucie flinched slightly, then straightened again) and they moved to their separate corners while the crowd exploded with delight.
They pulled out every move they'd ever done: the hurricanrana, the shooting star press, the senton bomb. Brucie delivered a series of Kesagiri chops to his neck and followed up with a flying clothesline, and Clark had forgotten how wonderful it was to work with him, how the most painful-looking moves felt so gentle. He struggled to keep the smile from his face, to look fierce and focused, but eventually he gave up and just grinned through all their moves. Who cared if it was breaking kayfabe? He was having fun and he wanted everyone to share it tonight, this last night.
The match went on at a breakneck clip, no pauses, just one dizzying move after another until they were both exhausted, practically staggering on their feet. Finally, after a particularly brutal suplex, Brucie dragged himself to his knees, then faltered and dropped back down to his hands and knees. As Clark watched from the corner, he sat up, swaying with exhaustion, clearly unable to stand any more.
He locked eyes with Country Clark, nodded in the exhausted recognition of an equal, and mouthed "Finish me," then bowed his head.
Clark paused for a long time, watching Brucie gasp for air as the crowd called their names. Then, almost as if reluctant, he stepped forward to deliver his spinning heel kick and knock Brucie to the mat as limp as a rag doll. Falling on his opponent as if he could barely stand any longer himself, he covered him for the pin, and the bell rang to declare him the winner.
"Listen," Bruce breathed in Clark's ear as they lay there. The crowd was chanting and clapping in a four-beat rhythm, over and over again:
"We will miss you! We will miss you!"
The chant swelled until Clark couldn't hear Bruce's laughter at his ear, could only feel the staccato breaths against his skin. They lay together for a moment, letting the sound wash over them. Then Clark got to his feet--with a legitimate effort, it felt like his joints were made of rubber--and offered Bruce his hand.
Bruce took it and allowed himself to be hauled to his feet. Then they left the ring and walked up the ramp together. Clark waved to the delirious crowd; Bruce put his nose in the air and ignored them all.
But the crowd was cheering them both.
: : :
The last match of the evening: the Warrior and Two-Face. The Gorilla Position was crowded with wrestlers, current and former JLI, the latter getting ready to rush out and keep Guy from winning his title back. Someone had opened a few beers and they were getting passed around as everyone watched Guy and Harvey battle around the ring. Finally, the Warrior got Two-Face into a hold that made his face contort in agony as he clawed in vain to get to the ropes. Would the pain cause him to admit defeat and tap out? Would the Warrior gain his championship back, here at Zero Hour?
"That's our cue," Darkseid said, taking a last swig of beer and handing the bottle to Booster Gold. He looked at the crowd of wrestlers. "Good to work with you all again," he boomed in his terrifying bass voice.
Then he pulled on his mask and the other DCW heels were running down the ramp to attack the Warrior and prevent him from getting the win.
The Warrior leaped to his feet, his teeth bared in a grimace of defiance, as the massive masked form entered the ring. With a lunge, he leaped forward and grabbed the mask off to reveal--the leering face of Darkseid, his old nemesis! The Warrior staggered back in shock, disbelief vivid on his face, and the crowd was so caught up in the moment that they gasped too, despite the fact it had obviously been Darkseid all along.
The God of Evil lifted a hand as if to re-mask himself, then shrugged and grinned malice upon the Warrior as the other heels entered the ring and removed their own masks to stand with their Dark Lord. The former JLI heels--revealed as the turncoats and traitors the audience always knew they were--inched forward, drawing back in alarm when the Warrior lunged at one or another of them. But he was outnumbered and it would only be a matter of time.
And then Country Clark Kent, Mr. Miracle, and Billionaire Brucie all ran down the ramp together and laid into the DCW wrestlers.
Pandemonium broke out in the arena; Clark could hear people screaming and swearing, and a hail of drink cups rained down on the DCW villains as the rest of the JLI roster--heels and faces together--charged into the battle, in and around the ring. Clark ducked a poorly-thrown cup and found himself getting clotheslined by Darkseid. He went down in a heap, then struggled to his feet to find someone else to fight--in the chaos it was difficult to pull off any move more complicated than a few punches and throws, but no one seemed to care. It was a glorious free-for-all, a bench-clearing brawl, and the JLI was united for the first and last time as they waged a desperate, doomed battle against their own extinction.
Selina leveled Queen Bee with a chair, then fell to Lashina's whip looped around her throat. Big Barda demolished Lashina with a suplex, then found herself back to back with Mr. Miracle in the middle of the ring. They turned to each other and kissed passionately for a long moment before rejoining the fray, to hoots and shrieks of approval. Clark saw a fan throw a popcorn box that hit Booster Gold in the back of the head as he balanced on the top ropes; thinking it was a punch, Booster sold the bump as if it were a hammer-blow, collapsing off the rope and onto the floor in truly theatrical fashion. The audience howled its joy: defeated by a popcorn box! Clark was one of the last to fall, but when three DCW heels teamed up to powerslam him he admitted defeat and lay in the corner of the ring, catching his breath.
One by one the wrestlers from both sides went down, felled by punches, kicks, chairs and throws to lie groaning and incapacitated on the ground. In the end, the Warrior faced down Darkseid alone, and with a mighty effort, hurled him over the ropes to his defeat.
Guy Gardner stood alone in the ring, turning slowly to look out at the whole audience, his arms thrown out wide as if to absorb every cry from the crowd. "JLI!" he yelled, and the crowd picked it up, chanted it back at him until the air seemed to shake with it. Clark saw tears running down Guy's face unchecked as they called and stamped their feet, a torrent of adoration. When it seemed it couldn't get any more raucous, L. Ron came hurrying down the ramp, bearing Guy's old Green Lantern jacket.
Guy stared as he handed it over, his face shocked: this wasn't part of the script. Then he slowly shrugged into it, squared his shoulders, and raised his fist in a salute to the audience.
Clark staggered to his feet with the other JLI members as the ecstatic roar poured endlessly over them. The DCW heels limped quietly out, unnoticed as the JLI stood together in the ring, beaming and waving, their arms around each other. Selina kissed Bruce on the cheek, then turned to Clark, who offered his cheek and was astonished to find himself kissed firmly on the lips.
"You're cute when you blush!" Selina yelled into his ear, barely audible over the noise.
Guy picked up the mic and the audience subsided enough to listen to him. "Hey," he said, then stopped and scrubbed at his face. "Um, yeah. I speak for all of us when I say thanks. Thanks for everything. You guys are the best ever."
The crowd erupted once more; people started clambering over the barricades and pounding their hands on the ring to make it shake and boom. The security guards looked at Guy, but he just laughed. "Hell, let 'em come up!" he yelled. "This is their ring!"
The sound crew struck up his theme song at top volume and the fans crawled into the ring and started stomping, dancing, whooping. The ring sagged under the onslaught, then settled slowly to the ground with a final groan. Wrestlers grabbed at each other, laughing and dodging the dancing fans, and finally fled up the ramp, waving back to everyone one last time, leaving the fans to dance on the wreckage of the JLI.
Backstage, coolers of beer were opened up and everyone--heels and faces, JLI and DCW--sat around and drank and talked all night, sharing stories and bragging and insulting each other.
"This was the best night of my life," Guy said at one point, clinking beer bottles with Clark.
"I hope you have lots more like it," Clark said.
Guy shook his head. "This is once in a lifetime, man. I'm just glad I got it once."
Around two in the morning, Clark spotted Bruce sitting in a corner, nursing a beer and watching everyone. "Well," Clark said, sitting down next to him. "We did our best."
"Our best is pretty good," said Bruce.
"And now it's all over."
"Over? Oh, I wouldn't say that," Bruce said. "No, I wouldn't say that at all."
---
Chapter 15: Ambush in the Dark
Relationship: Clark/Bruce
Characters: Clark Kent, Bruce Wayne, Guy Gardner, Lex Luthor, Harvey Dent, Selina Kyle, Darkseid
Continuity: Heroes of the Squared Circle, a DC/pro wrestling fusion ( click for notes and all chapters).
Warnings/Spoilers: None
Rating: PG
Word Count 2400
Summary: It's the JLI's last show, and Bruce and Clark's last match together before moving to the DCW.
Notes: Thanks to rdfox for suggesting the final fate of the ring at the end of the show!
It was a form of redemption through violence for me and for the fans. It is the best drug in the world, that rush from the fans. It is amazing. --Tommy Dreamer
"Guy, we need to make hundreds of posters," Tora said.
Guy looked up from his pens with a glare. "I want to get it right."
"You've been working on that one for twenty minutes now!" Bea plucked it away from him, ignoring his protest. A painstakingly drawn and implausibly muscled Warrior, brandishing an equally implausible number of teeth, glowered out from under a "Zero Hour" graphic. "Maybe we should have taken Luthor up on his offer to mass-produce us some 'handmade' posters."
"No way," Bruce said without looking up from the poster he was working on. "They have to be authentic. JLI fans can smell insincerity a mile away."
"Well, this poster is authentically awesome," Guy said, handing it over reluctantly to Bea.
Clark added the final touches to his tenth poster and gave it to Bea in turn, shaking the cramp out of his fingers. "How are the message boards?"
"Still buzzing," Selina Kyle said from behind her laptop. "God, do these people ever get tired of trying to guess what's real and what's fake about all this?"
"Let's hope not," said Bruce. He held up his own poster, in which the JLI logo was slowly being wiped out by a large purple eraser. "There we go."
"Good use of negative space," Clark said.
"Thank you kindly." Bruce grabbed a fresh piece of paper and got back to work.
They plastered the city with posters, they kept Twitter and the message boards humming with speculation, they got interviewed on every wrestling podcast and local radio station they had connections with.
And when Zero Hour came, they were ready.
: : :
"Too bad we didn't fill the house like this before we got bought out," Scott Free noted, peeking out at the stamping, chanting crowd. The Warrior was in the middle of the ring, delivering a non-sequitur-laden rant about history being re-written ("like the white obliterating light as hot as a googleplex of stars!"). He challenged Two-Face to a rematch for the championship, and Two-Face showed up at the top of the ramp, smirking and preening with his belt.
"You know Mr. Luthor will never let this show finish," Two-Face sneered. "So sure, I'll accept your challenge. We'll even make it the main event. You'll never reach the end of the show, you big blowhard."
"We'll see what you say when destiny knocks on your head, Two-Face!" yelled the Warrior, and the last show of the JLI had begun.
The matches were mostly recaps of old, popular feuds or wrap-ups of current storylines. The crowd was hot, roaring and booing with every match, and there were no "You sold out" chants, to everyone's relief.
Finally, they reached the penultimate match, and Clark stood in the Gorilla Position, listening to Billionaire Brucie stand in the middle of the ring and implore Country Clark Kent to come out and wrestle him.
"I know I lost that I Quit match," Brucie said. "I know that means I can never ask you to wrestle me again. So I'm not asking, Kent. I'm just...standing here and hoping."
He spread his hands out imploringly.
"I'm hoping any minute now I'll hear your music. I'm hoping you'll come down here and we'll wrestle one more time--not as enemies, but as equals. I'm hoping you're a good enough man--a better man than I am--to not hold a grudge."
There was a long, breathless pause as he stood alone in the ring, and Clark found himself jogging in place as the moment stretched excruciatingly. Would his music ever hit?
Finally Brucie dropped his hands to his sides, his shoulders slumped in defeat. "I understand," he said. "But Kent, I just want you to know that I--"
And finally Clark heard the strains of the generic banjo music that had been his opening theme for so long, and for the first time he found them welcome rather than annoying. The crowd screamed its approval as he jogged down the ramp, beaming and grinning and shaking hands, to join Brucie in the ring.
"One last match," he said. "For old times' sake."
And he held out his hand.
Brucie looked from his face to the outstretched hand, then back again. His eyes returned to Clark's hand and he bit his lip, his conflicting emotions playing across his face for all the audience to see. Would he be able to overcome his heel instincts and treat Country Clark as an equal?
Then he reached out and slowly, carefully clasped Clark's hand.
They stood in the ring for a moment hand in hand, Clark grinning, a slow smile dawning on Brucie's face in answer. Then Clark reached out and clapped him briefly on the shoulder (Brucie flinched slightly, then straightened again) and they moved to their separate corners while the crowd exploded with delight.
They pulled out every move they'd ever done: the hurricanrana, the shooting star press, the senton bomb. Brucie delivered a series of Kesagiri chops to his neck and followed up with a flying clothesline, and Clark had forgotten how wonderful it was to work with him, how the most painful-looking moves felt so gentle. He struggled to keep the smile from his face, to look fierce and focused, but eventually he gave up and just grinned through all their moves. Who cared if it was breaking kayfabe? He was having fun and he wanted everyone to share it tonight, this last night.
The match went on at a breakneck clip, no pauses, just one dizzying move after another until they were both exhausted, practically staggering on their feet. Finally, after a particularly brutal suplex, Brucie dragged himself to his knees, then faltered and dropped back down to his hands and knees. As Clark watched from the corner, he sat up, swaying with exhaustion, clearly unable to stand any more.
He locked eyes with Country Clark, nodded in the exhausted recognition of an equal, and mouthed "Finish me," then bowed his head.
Clark paused for a long time, watching Brucie gasp for air as the crowd called their names. Then, almost as if reluctant, he stepped forward to deliver his spinning heel kick and knock Brucie to the mat as limp as a rag doll. Falling on his opponent as if he could barely stand any longer himself, he covered him for the pin, and the bell rang to declare him the winner.
"Listen," Bruce breathed in Clark's ear as they lay there. The crowd was chanting and clapping in a four-beat rhythm, over and over again:
"We will miss you! We will miss you!"
The chant swelled until Clark couldn't hear Bruce's laughter at his ear, could only feel the staccato breaths against his skin. They lay together for a moment, letting the sound wash over them. Then Clark got to his feet--with a legitimate effort, it felt like his joints were made of rubber--and offered Bruce his hand.
Bruce took it and allowed himself to be hauled to his feet. Then they left the ring and walked up the ramp together. Clark waved to the delirious crowd; Bruce put his nose in the air and ignored them all.
But the crowd was cheering them both.
: : :
The last match of the evening: the Warrior and Two-Face. The Gorilla Position was crowded with wrestlers, current and former JLI, the latter getting ready to rush out and keep Guy from winning his title back. Someone had opened a few beers and they were getting passed around as everyone watched Guy and Harvey battle around the ring. Finally, the Warrior got Two-Face into a hold that made his face contort in agony as he clawed in vain to get to the ropes. Would the pain cause him to admit defeat and tap out? Would the Warrior gain his championship back, here at Zero Hour?
"That's our cue," Darkseid said, taking a last swig of beer and handing the bottle to Booster Gold. He looked at the crowd of wrestlers. "Good to work with you all again," he boomed in his terrifying bass voice.
Then he pulled on his mask and the other DCW heels were running down the ramp to attack the Warrior and prevent him from getting the win.
The Warrior leaped to his feet, his teeth bared in a grimace of defiance, as the massive masked form entered the ring. With a lunge, he leaped forward and grabbed the mask off to reveal--the leering face of Darkseid, his old nemesis! The Warrior staggered back in shock, disbelief vivid on his face, and the crowd was so caught up in the moment that they gasped too, despite the fact it had obviously been Darkseid all along.
The God of Evil lifted a hand as if to re-mask himself, then shrugged and grinned malice upon the Warrior as the other heels entered the ring and removed their own masks to stand with their Dark Lord. The former JLI heels--revealed as the turncoats and traitors the audience always knew they were--inched forward, drawing back in alarm when the Warrior lunged at one or another of them. But he was outnumbered and it would only be a matter of time.
And then Country Clark Kent, Mr. Miracle, and Billionaire Brucie all ran down the ramp together and laid into the DCW wrestlers.
Pandemonium broke out in the arena; Clark could hear people screaming and swearing, and a hail of drink cups rained down on the DCW villains as the rest of the JLI roster--heels and faces together--charged into the battle, in and around the ring. Clark ducked a poorly-thrown cup and found himself getting clotheslined by Darkseid. He went down in a heap, then struggled to his feet to find someone else to fight--in the chaos it was difficult to pull off any move more complicated than a few punches and throws, but no one seemed to care. It was a glorious free-for-all, a bench-clearing brawl, and the JLI was united for the first and last time as they waged a desperate, doomed battle against their own extinction.
Selina leveled Queen Bee with a chair, then fell to Lashina's whip looped around her throat. Big Barda demolished Lashina with a suplex, then found herself back to back with Mr. Miracle in the middle of the ring. They turned to each other and kissed passionately for a long moment before rejoining the fray, to hoots and shrieks of approval. Clark saw a fan throw a popcorn box that hit Booster Gold in the back of the head as he balanced on the top ropes; thinking it was a punch, Booster sold the bump as if it were a hammer-blow, collapsing off the rope and onto the floor in truly theatrical fashion. The audience howled its joy: defeated by a popcorn box! Clark was one of the last to fall, but when three DCW heels teamed up to powerslam him he admitted defeat and lay in the corner of the ring, catching his breath.
One by one the wrestlers from both sides went down, felled by punches, kicks, chairs and throws to lie groaning and incapacitated on the ground. In the end, the Warrior faced down Darkseid alone, and with a mighty effort, hurled him over the ropes to his defeat.
Guy Gardner stood alone in the ring, turning slowly to look out at the whole audience, his arms thrown out wide as if to absorb every cry from the crowd. "JLI!" he yelled, and the crowd picked it up, chanted it back at him until the air seemed to shake with it. Clark saw tears running down Guy's face unchecked as they called and stamped their feet, a torrent of adoration. When it seemed it couldn't get any more raucous, L. Ron came hurrying down the ramp, bearing Guy's old Green Lantern jacket.
Guy stared as he handed it over, his face shocked: this wasn't part of the script. Then he slowly shrugged into it, squared his shoulders, and raised his fist in a salute to the audience.
Clark staggered to his feet with the other JLI members as the ecstatic roar poured endlessly over them. The DCW heels limped quietly out, unnoticed as the JLI stood together in the ring, beaming and waving, their arms around each other. Selina kissed Bruce on the cheek, then turned to Clark, who offered his cheek and was astonished to find himself kissed firmly on the lips.
"You're cute when you blush!" Selina yelled into his ear, barely audible over the noise.
Guy picked up the mic and the audience subsided enough to listen to him. "Hey," he said, then stopped and scrubbed at his face. "Um, yeah. I speak for all of us when I say thanks. Thanks for everything. You guys are the best ever."
The crowd erupted once more; people started clambering over the barricades and pounding their hands on the ring to make it shake and boom. The security guards looked at Guy, but he just laughed. "Hell, let 'em come up!" he yelled. "This is their ring!"
The sound crew struck up his theme song at top volume and the fans crawled into the ring and started stomping, dancing, whooping. The ring sagged under the onslaught, then settled slowly to the ground with a final groan. Wrestlers grabbed at each other, laughing and dodging the dancing fans, and finally fled up the ramp, waving back to everyone one last time, leaving the fans to dance on the wreckage of the JLI.
Backstage, coolers of beer were opened up and everyone--heels and faces, JLI and DCW--sat around and drank and talked all night, sharing stories and bragging and insulting each other.
"This was the best night of my life," Guy said at one point, clinking beer bottles with Clark.
"I hope you have lots more like it," Clark said.
Guy shook his head. "This is once in a lifetime, man. I'm just glad I got it once."
Around two in the morning, Clark spotted Bruce sitting in a corner, nursing a beer and watching everyone. "Well," Clark said, sitting down next to him. "We did our best."
"Our best is pretty good," said Bruce.
"And now it's all over."
"Over? Oh, I wouldn't say that," Bruce said. "No, I wouldn't say that at all."
---
Chapter 15: Ambush in the Dark