The Wonder That's Keeping the Stars Apart (6/7)
Title: The Wonder That's Keeping the Stars Apart, Chapter Six
Pairing/Characters: Clark/Bruce, Ra's al Ghul
Notes: "Music of the Spheres" is a series set in the combined universes of "Batman Begins" and "Superman Returns." Other stories and notes on the series here.
Rating: R
Summary: Bruce arrives to rescue Clark in turn--but will he be successful with Ra's controlling the Man of Steel?
Word Count: 1400
here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
Clark was trapped inside his own body. "We should send him to raze Metropolis, Lord," said a voice from a great distance, nearly swallowed in waves of silence. Clark's heart tried to skip a beat and failed; even alarm was beyond his ability.
"Not wise, Ubu," said al Ghul's voice. "We remain uncertain how well our compound works. If we immediately send him far away to do something so against his will, we may find ourselves with a very angry Kryptonian to deal with." Footsteps moved around Clark. "Let's start with something small. Something that keeps him close to the sound of my voice. Get on your hands and knees," said al Ghul, and Clark felt his body shift and lower. "Very nice," al Ghul said as if admiring a work of art. "Stay there."
There was a slight pressure on Clark's back and he heard laughter ripple around the cavern. "May you one day use the world as your footstool as well, Lord," said Ubu.
The laughter flowed past Clark and away as if down a long, vast tunnel. It wasn't important. The silence buffered and held him tenderly, full of promise. He waited and listened.
He heard it before anyone in the room: the heartbeat approaching, steady and sure, the footsteps inaudible to any human. The gasp of a guard, the scrape of a body lowered to the floor. The heartbeat drawing closer as al Ghul and his followers discussed strategy, their voices of less import than the remembered chittering of bats in the cave roof. The heartbeat entered the room and Clark exulted, deep inside, that he was incapable of showing expression, of betraying his joy. He felt the familiar rhythm resonate in his own heart, a lifeline, an anchor. He held on.
Something must have tipped al Ghul off, for there was a sudden barked command and the slithering sound of weapons drawn. "Wait," commanded al Ghul. "I will have you disable no more of my men. Let our latest...recruit do the work. Stand up," he said sharply, and Clark felt his body rise. As if reflected in a distant mirror, he saw Bruce, all in ninja black, his eyes narrowed above the mask. "Kill him," al Ghul's voice said carelessly.
Clark's body moved, and Clark's soul wrenched itself from its disassociation to wage one of the greatest battles of his life.
: : :
Bruce flung himself to the right as Superman moved forward, feeling a sizzle of heat vision scorch the air nearby. Another tumble away from a fist that struck the stone next to him, sending jagged cracks arcing across the hall. Bruce's heart was pounding, exhaustion and malnutrition taking their toll. He knew he wouldn't be able to dodge the next attack.
But he did.
He heard Ra's snarl from his throne and realized Superman's motions were sluggish--still faster than any human's, but slowed to where he could avoid them. For now. He flung himself forward in a flip to dodge another blow, hearing his heartbeat hammering in his own ears, a tarantella of desperation--
His heartbeat.
He dodged again and saw it. Heard it. Clark's motions were in rhythm with Bruce's heartbeat, like a dancer moving to a drumbeat only he could hear. My heart, Bruce whispered to himself, Oh, my heart.
After that it was easier, a deadly dance with annihilation always a misstep away, but he could weave and dodge, almost touching his beloved opponent, safe by microns every time. "Finish him!" Ra's roared, and Bruce flicked a shuriken at the sound of his voice, feeling Clark's fist kiss his hair, dropping away at the last second. He heard the tang of metal on metal and whirled to see Ra's with his Kryptonite sword out, the tiny shuriken careening away, deflected.
Bruce was in motion, slipping under the red cape like a bull with a matador, throwing himself at the throne before Ra's could react. The emerald sword skittered across the floor with a skreeling shower of green sparks, and then Bruce had it in his hands, gleaming viridian metal before his eyes.
"Kill him," Ra's said fiercely to Superman. Bruce could see his smile. Compassion, Bruce. It hobbles you.
Superman stood stock-still, and Bruce could see muscles trembling under the blue spandex. "You will obey me," snarled Ra's, his voice curdled with anger. Superman took a staggering step forward and stopped again. He looked at Bruce and for a moment Bruce could see Clark in his eyes. Don't let me do this to you. Please.
Then Clark closed his eyes. His arms were loose at his sides. Waiting. Open.
"Now," said Ra's, and Kal's eyes opened, smoldering red. He moved forward, the vulnerable moment gone, closing on Bruce, a puppet in the hands of a madman.
Forgive me.
Bruce leapt forward and buried the sword in Clark's shoulder, above the heart, feeling the blade bite deep.
He heard a scream, a desolate howl bereft of sanity rip through the hall as Superman fell. But Clark's mouth hadn't opened, he lay on the floor peaceful as a sleeping child except for the blood, the blood--
His throat felt torn and raw for some reason. There was blood on his hands. The sword lay on the floor nearby, streaked with scarlet, and Clark's cape was in his hands, crushed in his fists. He looked up from Clark's body at the dozens of ninjas filling the hall.
Whatever they saw in his eyes, they scattered and fled before him, and any who did not were left broken and bleeding on the stone floor like grass before a razored wind.
Down a stone corridor Ra's fled; Bruce followed, borne on fury and grief like wings. A stone door slid shut behind his quarry, but he slipped through at the last second to find himself in a natural cavern, a crust of stone ledge clinging to the sheer rock. Beneath him the cave dropped off into nothing; a sickly pale glow glimmered far below.
Ra's was edging along the ledge; Bruce had no compunction, no fear, Clark's blood on his hands shielded him from vertigo or hesitation. He closed on his former mentor like an avenging angel, as if he would tear him apart with his bare hands.
Ra's smiled at him, a smile in which a strange pride and affection mingled with anger and fear. "Yet again I appear to have underestimated you," he murmured. As Bruce lunged forward, he merely stepped back, saying "Au revoir," and fell without further sound into the silent depths.
Bruce spent no time looking down after him but whirled to get back to the main hall. Back to Clark.
: : :
The pool of blood spread beneath Superman like a cape, fanning across the stone floor. The room was empty. "Clark," murmured Bruce. His eyes didn't open. Bruce got his arms under the other man and began to drag him toward the exit, toward the sky and sunlight. A long, pained smear of blood trailed behind them, and Bruce's throat hurt; someone was sobbing wordlessly, a horrible sound. Clark was a dead weight in his arms.
He staggered out into a gray world, lit like a pearl; the moment before sunrise. He laid Clark down in the snow and tore off his ninja mask to staunch the wound, blood sleeping into the snow, Clark's face white as snow. "Clark," he whispered again. "Don't leave me."
The sun rose.
Sunlight turned the snow and mist to rose, touched Clark's face with color. Clark drew a long breath and opened his eyes as the light crept across his body, laving his wound. "Oh," he said. "Bruce."
"Don't leave me," Bruce said again. He was rocking slightly, Clark's fingers wrapped in his, bowing over their joined hands.
"Never," Clark said. "I'll never leave you, Bruce."
It was cold, but Bruce didn't seem to feel it. It couldn't touch him. Sunlight was everywhere, a gold and rose benison, and Clark's terrible wound had stopped bleeding. "I knew you'd save me," Clark said.
Bruce laughed through the raw scrape of his throat, a creaking sound like leather. "I thought you saved me."
Clark drew him against the insignia on his chest, pulled him to his heart. "You always save me," he said.
They stayed like that, resting in sunlight together, letting the dawn touch and heal them.
Pairing/Characters: Clark/Bruce, Ra's al Ghul
Notes: "Music of the Spheres" is a series set in the combined universes of "Batman Begins" and "Superman Returns." Other stories and notes on the series here.
Rating: R
Summary: Bruce arrives to rescue Clark in turn--but will he be successful with Ra's controlling the Man of Steel?
Word Count: 1400
here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
Clark was trapped inside his own body. "We should send him to raze Metropolis, Lord," said a voice from a great distance, nearly swallowed in waves of silence. Clark's heart tried to skip a beat and failed; even alarm was beyond his ability.
"Not wise, Ubu," said al Ghul's voice. "We remain uncertain how well our compound works. If we immediately send him far away to do something so against his will, we may find ourselves with a very angry Kryptonian to deal with." Footsteps moved around Clark. "Let's start with something small. Something that keeps him close to the sound of my voice. Get on your hands and knees," said al Ghul, and Clark felt his body shift and lower. "Very nice," al Ghul said as if admiring a work of art. "Stay there."
There was a slight pressure on Clark's back and he heard laughter ripple around the cavern. "May you one day use the world as your footstool as well, Lord," said Ubu.
The laughter flowed past Clark and away as if down a long, vast tunnel. It wasn't important. The silence buffered and held him tenderly, full of promise. He waited and listened.
He heard it before anyone in the room: the heartbeat approaching, steady and sure, the footsteps inaudible to any human. The gasp of a guard, the scrape of a body lowered to the floor. The heartbeat drawing closer as al Ghul and his followers discussed strategy, their voices of less import than the remembered chittering of bats in the cave roof. The heartbeat entered the room and Clark exulted, deep inside, that he was incapable of showing expression, of betraying his joy. He felt the familiar rhythm resonate in his own heart, a lifeline, an anchor. He held on.
Something must have tipped al Ghul off, for there was a sudden barked command and the slithering sound of weapons drawn. "Wait," commanded al Ghul. "I will have you disable no more of my men. Let our latest...recruit do the work. Stand up," he said sharply, and Clark felt his body rise. As if reflected in a distant mirror, he saw Bruce, all in ninja black, his eyes narrowed above the mask. "Kill him," al Ghul's voice said carelessly.
Clark's body moved, and Clark's soul wrenched itself from its disassociation to wage one of the greatest battles of his life.
: : :
Bruce flung himself to the right as Superman moved forward, feeling a sizzle of heat vision scorch the air nearby. Another tumble away from a fist that struck the stone next to him, sending jagged cracks arcing across the hall. Bruce's heart was pounding, exhaustion and malnutrition taking their toll. He knew he wouldn't be able to dodge the next attack.
But he did.
He heard Ra's snarl from his throne and realized Superman's motions were sluggish--still faster than any human's, but slowed to where he could avoid them. For now. He flung himself forward in a flip to dodge another blow, hearing his heartbeat hammering in his own ears, a tarantella of desperation--
His heartbeat.
He dodged again and saw it. Heard it. Clark's motions were in rhythm with Bruce's heartbeat, like a dancer moving to a drumbeat only he could hear. My heart, Bruce whispered to himself, Oh, my heart.
After that it was easier, a deadly dance with annihilation always a misstep away, but he could weave and dodge, almost touching his beloved opponent, safe by microns every time. "Finish him!" Ra's roared, and Bruce flicked a shuriken at the sound of his voice, feeling Clark's fist kiss his hair, dropping away at the last second. He heard the tang of metal on metal and whirled to see Ra's with his Kryptonite sword out, the tiny shuriken careening away, deflected.
Bruce was in motion, slipping under the red cape like a bull with a matador, throwing himself at the throne before Ra's could react. The emerald sword skittered across the floor with a skreeling shower of green sparks, and then Bruce had it in his hands, gleaming viridian metal before his eyes.
"Kill him," Ra's said fiercely to Superman. Bruce could see his smile. Compassion, Bruce. It hobbles you.
Superman stood stock-still, and Bruce could see muscles trembling under the blue spandex. "You will obey me," snarled Ra's, his voice curdled with anger. Superman took a staggering step forward and stopped again. He looked at Bruce and for a moment Bruce could see Clark in his eyes. Don't let me do this to you. Please.
Then Clark closed his eyes. His arms were loose at his sides. Waiting. Open.
"Now," said Ra's, and Kal's eyes opened, smoldering red. He moved forward, the vulnerable moment gone, closing on Bruce, a puppet in the hands of a madman.
Forgive me.
Bruce leapt forward and buried the sword in Clark's shoulder, above the heart, feeling the blade bite deep.
He heard a scream, a desolate howl bereft of sanity rip through the hall as Superman fell. But Clark's mouth hadn't opened, he lay on the floor peaceful as a sleeping child except for the blood, the blood--
His throat felt torn and raw for some reason. There was blood on his hands. The sword lay on the floor nearby, streaked with scarlet, and Clark's cape was in his hands, crushed in his fists. He looked up from Clark's body at the dozens of ninjas filling the hall.
Whatever they saw in his eyes, they scattered and fled before him, and any who did not were left broken and bleeding on the stone floor like grass before a razored wind.
Down a stone corridor Ra's fled; Bruce followed, borne on fury and grief like wings. A stone door slid shut behind his quarry, but he slipped through at the last second to find himself in a natural cavern, a crust of stone ledge clinging to the sheer rock. Beneath him the cave dropped off into nothing; a sickly pale glow glimmered far below.
Ra's was edging along the ledge; Bruce had no compunction, no fear, Clark's blood on his hands shielded him from vertigo or hesitation. He closed on his former mentor like an avenging angel, as if he would tear him apart with his bare hands.
Ra's smiled at him, a smile in which a strange pride and affection mingled with anger and fear. "Yet again I appear to have underestimated you," he murmured. As Bruce lunged forward, he merely stepped back, saying "Au revoir," and fell without further sound into the silent depths.
Bruce spent no time looking down after him but whirled to get back to the main hall. Back to Clark.
: : :
The pool of blood spread beneath Superman like a cape, fanning across the stone floor. The room was empty. "Clark," murmured Bruce. His eyes didn't open. Bruce got his arms under the other man and began to drag him toward the exit, toward the sky and sunlight. A long, pained smear of blood trailed behind them, and Bruce's throat hurt; someone was sobbing wordlessly, a horrible sound. Clark was a dead weight in his arms.
He staggered out into a gray world, lit like a pearl; the moment before sunrise. He laid Clark down in the snow and tore off his ninja mask to staunch the wound, blood sleeping into the snow, Clark's face white as snow. "Clark," he whispered again. "Don't leave me."
The sun rose.
Sunlight turned the snow and mist to rose, touched Clark's face with color. Clark drew a long breath and opened his eyes as the light crept across his body, laving his wound. "Oh," he said. "Bruce."
"Don't leave me," Bruce said again. He was rocking slightly, Clark's fingers wrapped in his, bowing over their joined hands.
"Never," Clark said. "I'll never leave you, Bruce."
It was cold, but Bruce didn't seem to feel it. It couldn't touch him. Sunlight was everywhere, a gold and rose benison, and Clark's terrible wound had stopped bleeding. "I knew you'd save me," Clark said.
Bruce laughed through the raw scrape of his throat, a creaking sound like leather. "I thought you saved me."
Clark drew him against the insignia on his chest, pulled him to his heart. "You always save me," he said.
They stayed like that, resting in sunlight together, letting the dawn touch and heal them.