Title: On Being Human
Pairing: Batman/Superman
Rating: FRT
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liked and what you want to see more of in the future Here.
Superman peered into the thick, pre-dawn air that lay over Gotham like
the haze of an old woman’s perfume on her shawl. He never liked
coming here, was just as glad that Batman had long ago banished him and
all his brightly colored kind from the city below. And yet,
something in Batman’s bitter tone of voice earlier, or the way his
shoulders slumped just the tiniest bit before turning and viciously
tearing into Kyle Rayner for some mistake or other… something told
Superman that he was needed here. Tonight more than any other
night.
Batman was always remote and acerbic with the League, being surrounded
by meta-humans made him… uncomfortable. In a lesser man it would
be fear, Clark supposed, but with Batman it was channeled into a wary
watchfulness and a tendency towards harshness. Batman tolerated
the League the way most people tolerated guns - impossible to get rid
of and, possibly, somewhat useful.
But this, this unbridled contempt and disgust was not just destructive,
it was tactically unwise! As unlike Batman as anything Clark had
ever seen. So he casually flew past the early warning sensors
outside the Cave, making no effort to hide his approach. Get
ready for me, Bruce. Whatever agenda you have, whatever demon
you’ve got trapped up in your twisty mind, I’m here to pull it out of
you. Get ready.
*_*_*_*
Bruce heard the alarm and stilled, black gloved fingers frozen over the
keys in front of him.
No, not yet. He wasn't ready yet. Bruce tried to blank his
mind, bring his
analytical focus to bear, but shame burned low in his gut, twisted at
his heart. His hand curled into harsh shapes, yearning to tear
and claw itself, to rip small bits out of his chest and gut until the
shame dripped out on the floor and pooled at his feet.
God, Superman, here. Now. Clark had seen the guilt,
then. The horrifying failure. Oh god the pain of it cramped
in his guts and made him want to keen in despair and turn his face to
the wall. That those eyes, perfectly blameless eyes, should be
turned on him.
A second voice raged in a blaze of fury: And what the hell did
Superman know of failure? What did he know of frailty, of, of this? This betrayal of self, of
purpose, of life? The smug,
self-righteous bastard. Here! To smile his superior smile
and, and…
Bruce snarled in pain and leapt out of his chair, the chittering memory
of his shame tormenting him.
A little body, ice white and dead in the snow.
‘Incompetent’ he snarled at himself. ‘Worthless, incompetent,
useless.’ the raging voice attacked. And still the first
voice sobbed, ‘I made a mistake, a mistake! Oh god, I think I
killed her. I missed something. I wasn’t perfect, I missed
it, I forgot, I forgot!’ Bruce wailed into his mind, seeking
some kind of absolution, but all he felt was the misery twisting
tighter inside him till he choked on it. He’d been so supremely
arrogant, barring the help of any meta-humans in his city. He was
the Batman for Christ’s sake, and it didn’t matter how many hours he’d
worked, how intense the brainpower, how numbing the terror and horror
of his world. He didn’t need help, never had needed it, never
missed a clue, never forgot a detail, never forgot, never forgot…
…until he did.
Forgot! Forgot that the woman had three daughters, not two.
No matter that he’d been beaten and shot at by Dilone’s men. No
matter that it had been over twelve hours in the searing cold
night. One daughter on the enforcer’s arm, second running the
till at the counter, and the third
one at home! Three daughters,
three!
‘Only two now’ a dark little voice of soulless hate whispered to
him. See, now there’s two, only two.’ And Bruce wrapped his
arms tightly around his knees and shivered in the dark corner he’d made.
*_*_*_*
Clark landed lightly on the cave floor, opening himself to the quiet
gloom. Under the humming of the great computers and the
flickering muttering of the bats he knew that somewhere must lie a
breath, a heartbeat, a scent or taste of the man he’d come to
find. But he also knew from long, sometimes painful experience
that Bruce wouldn’t be found until he
chose, and so Clark wandered
quietly into the heart of the sanctum, up the steps to the console and
towards the chair left askew in front of it.
The place seemed barren and lonely without Bruce’s intense personality
filling it, and Clark reflected with sad humor that he and the cave had
that in common, at least. How often had he longed for some hint
of welcome from Bruce, longed to be closer, to share in his sorrows and
joys? Lonely, Rao he was so lonley.
His heart ached with
it, and yet he couldn’t persuade it to find happiness with anyone
else. ‘Bruce’, it whispered to him when he dreamed of a
companion. ‘Bruce, only Bruce.’
And so he kept coming here, despite Batman’s surly moods and Superman’s
instructions to stay away. He battled Batman’s cynicism
with compassion, and his own disappointment with humor. As far as
he knew he was the only person who had so deliberately worked his way
into Bruce’s grudging acceptance, and he was fiercely proud of what
little he’d been given.
At the top of the diaz, now, and a faint taste of bitter musk lingered
on the air, a hint of salt making his salivary glands burn. Clark
knew that Bruce had been here, just here, bare moments earlier.
Faint wisps of silvery heat were finally eddying into nothing from the
chair and Clark sat there to keep the ghosts of warmth from leaving
entirely. Too many ghosts in this place, he knew. Too many
ghosts and all of them alone in their vast, empty despair.
Time to jostle their elbows a little. Clark quirked a lip and
thumped his boots up on the console’s edge.
Come and get me.
*_*_*
Bruce came back to himself and watched Clark’s red boots tap against
each other while the alien hummed to himself. He readied himself
to swoop down on the man, forcing him out of his home and reasserting
the respect, the dominance that he’d always demanded. Even as he
braced to stand, though, memory stabbed at him.
Gary Lemar was an up and coming defense lawyer who specialized in
criminal law. He’d come to Dilone’s attention, and the Batman’s,
about a year ago. Lemar and Dilone began a cautious hand-in-glove
affair, Dilone coming to rely more and more on Lemar’s legal
acumen. Batman had been watching the partnership for some time,
trying to gauge the best way to use it for his own ends; he wasn’t
above blackmailing the odd civil servant in order to have reliable eyes
and ears inside the mob.
A call at dawn from the lawyer, and Batman was dogging Dilone’s
steps. One of his enforcers was trying to carve a piece for
himself out of Dilone’s territory and a meet had been arranged by the
mob boss to… curb that impulse. The whole thing could turn bloody
in a minute and there were innocents employed by both sides that
wouldn’t know enough to duck and run. So hour after hour had
passed, Batman watching from a nearby perch and ignoring his body as it
grew more sluggish in the sleeting cold. It wasn’t important -
nothing was but learning when and where the meet would happen.
And so when random chance had led a bored enforcer to look out the
window and spot a flap of his cape in the wind, he had been too cold,
too slow, to keep the bullets from pummeling him off his ledge.
He’d gone crashing down to street level and barely avoided breaking all
his ribs on a dumpster along the way.
‘Superman doesn’t get cold, or sluggish’, the soulless voice of hate
whispered, ‘or lose his balance when he’s shot. Too bad
that little girl didn’t live in Metropolis. Too bad she didn’t
have Superman, wasn’t alive to call for help, was dead and frozen
because Superman doesn’t come to Gotham, doesn’t come because of you,
didn’t come, no one came and-‘
Enough! He raged to himself. His
city! His home and how
dare that red booted freak send him into
hiding like this? With liquid grace he uncoiled from his crouch
and swept towards Clark, fury and shame and an animal need to be left alone roiling in his gut.
“What the hell are you doing here!” he spat as he strode up the
steps. He knew all of Clark’s soft spots, all the words and
emotions to hit to make even Superman flinch. How dare he
come here and lounge in Bruce’s chair and browse through…
Bruce’s steps faltered and a wave of nausea stole his speech.
Clark had turned at his approach and was holding the photographic
evidence of Bruce’s failure with a look of confusion and pity in his
eyes.
*_*_*
Clark was fingering the photos Bruce had left behind when he felt the
shadows around him swelling with emotion. Each breath seemed
heavier than the last and he wasn’t surprised when moments later a dark
form appeared from the gloom, long strides eating up the steps between
them. Bruce had a mad-on that looked truly epic in proportion and
Clark steeled himself for the collision when Bruce just… stopped.
Suddenly he wasn’t the Dark Knight come to rain vengeance down, but
looked, well he looked lost, actually. Lost and a little scared.
“Is this what it’s all been about lately?” Clark asked gently,
holding out the picture of a young woman, dead in the snow.
Bruce snatched the photo away, fury suddenly back on his face.
“Leave. Get out! I don’t need your pity. You don’t
understand, not about this or any of it. Now get out.”
“Bruce,” he tried gently, standing and putting everything he felt into
his face, his voice. “You don’t need to go through this
alone. We’ve all-“
“You’ve nothing!” Bruce hissed, inches away from Clark’s face,
spitting venom. “You’ve never felt the pain of a dead girl in
your arms and known that if you’d been ten minutes earlier, ten
minutes! that she’d still be alive. You’ve never felt your
body fail you for no reason but that it was cold and tired. You
don’t understand anything. You couldn’t… it’s a human thing.”
“Go to hell, Bruce.” Clark snapped back, suddenly sick of this
game. “I came here to see what the hell crawled up your ass and
died, you cranky bastard. I came to help! Why do you always
do this to me? Why-“
Oh. Lightning quick thoughts flickered behind his eyes and Clark
blinked, putting together the pattern of light and shadows that was
Bruce. Bruce was never straightforward, even with a frontal
attack. This sudden approach, the insults… Clark glanced at the
photo still held gently in Bruce’s gloved hand.
“I’m not here to judge you. Bruce! Listen to me, it’s not
your fault!”
Rage, shame, misery screamed out of Bruce’s eyes but his voice was cold
and choked. “I said get out!”
“No.”
“I said-“
“No! I’m not leaving you to, to wallow like this! It’s not
your fault she’s dead, Bruce.”
“You weren’t there,” he snarled, stepping closer and fisting his free
hand in Clark’s uniform. “You stupid moron, you have no idea-“
Clark put his hand over Bruce’s, cradling the fist to his chest.
“I wasn’t, no. But I know you Bruce, I know you did everything
you could for her.”
“You know nothing!” he screamed into Clark’s face, the wave
finally breaking over them. “Dead! She’s dead because of
me!” Bruce shoved past Clark, frantically sifting through the
documents and photos on his desk. “I never thought he’d do
it. I didn’t factor in what he’d do with a hostage because I
never considered, damn it I made a mistake!” He spun to face
Clark, shaking a handful of crumpled papers, eyes wild and lost.
“Three daughters! She had three, not two! And I, I…”
Clark gently pried the papers free and gently, carefully smoothed them
out on the desk. Bruce watched helplessly as that great head bent
and scanned the evidence of his failure, a lock of hair falling in his
face. Bruce closed his eyes, bracing himself for the final
verdict, the look of contempt that had to follow.
“Did you shoot her?”
The question jarred his eyes open.
“Did you pick up a gun and put these holes in her? Did you take
aim and fire and fill her body with bullets-“
“No! God no, Clark what the hell are you talking about?”
“No,” Clark breathed the word, hands braced on either side of the
photo. Then he looked up, blue eyes clear and earnest. “No
Bruce, you didn’t.”
Not this easy, it wasn’t this easy. No! “Clark she’s
dead. Dead! Someone has to take the blame, someone has to
be responsible, someone has to care
that she’s… that she’s…”
Finally Bruce trailed off, compassion pouring off of Clark like
heat. A sigh, then another and Bruce worked one numb hand under
his mask, pulling it free.
“You can’t stop every death, Bruce. No one can.”
“I know,” he replied softly, suddenly bone tired.
Clark tried again. “Not every tragedy in this city is your
personal cross to bear. You can’t let it eat you up like this,
you can’t!”
“Clark, I know.” he sighed again, dropping into the chair with
the weight of his exhaustion. “It’s just-“
“You care.” Clark murmured, smiling slightly, still so close, so
warm.
“Yes,” Bruce breathed, the tight clench of shame and guilt finally
releasing. “I care.”
“I know.”
“Yes,” Bruce agreed faintly, sounding puzzled. “You do know,
don’t you?”
Clark debated the morality of taking advantage of Bruce’s exhaustion,
then thought “The hell with it,” and levered him out of the
chair. “C’mon Bruce, Alfred would have my hide if I left you down
here all night.”
Bruce opened his mouth, thought about protesting, but his emotional
catharsis had left him drained and dumb. Besides, just for a
minute, just for now while Clark’s arm was around his waist and
supporting him up the steps to the manor, he found that he didn’t hurt
and was content to let that continue.
So he quietly assisted Clark in removing his armor, stripping off his
gloves and boots, touching a hand here and brushing fingers there as
they gently peeled away his walls. It was such a blessing just to
breath, to sigh and lay back in his bed, tears slipping freely down his
cheeks as Clark stroked his hair.
Hours later he woke, eyes stiff and grainy from dried tears to find
Clark asleep on the wide bed next to him, still reaching towards
him. Clark’s cape was rumpled up under him and one red-booted
foot was hanging off the side. Bruce smiled, so tenderly that he
felt his heart might tear open, and slipped two fingers into Clark’s
open palm. Then he slid back into sleep, knowing that Clark would
stay to chase the shadows away.
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