Author's Note: This story came about after I had noticed that, with each film and comic reboot, they keep pushing Superman's arrival on Earth further and further forward from the original arrival that would've taken place in or around 1908 or so in order for him to have made his debut as Superman in 1938. After noticing this, I wondered exactly how far forward they can go before they have to set Superman's arrival and adoption by the Kents in the past for there to be a willing suspension of disbelief due to the fact that slipping an undocumented alien baby into American society unnoticed becomes harder and harder to do with each passing decade for a variety of reasons. Remembering hearing from at least one source that Superman is potentially immortal and would stop aging at one point, an idea began to germinate. An idea of a 106 year-old Superman trying to re-integrate with the society he'd started distancing himself from decades earlier.

I will tell you right now that I'm far more familiar with the Superman cartoons from the 1940s, the Christopher Reeve films, the Batman movies from the 80s/90s, and the animated series from that era than I am with the comics. Because of this, despite the fact that the story doesn't fit in with them, elements of these will likely be very heavily present.

I also don't have a pairing planned for Superman/Clark Kent, so don't ask.

Author's Note addendum/Alert to readers: When I made Clark's new work partner 1/2 of the kissing couple of chapter 1, I'd intended it to be more of an "awkwardness ensues" thing. Chapter 2 seemed to be drawing too many parallels between Eric and Lois, so I am firmly establishing here and now that Eric is happily married to the other 1/2 of the kissing couple and will not be pairing up with Clark. They will be friends and work partners at the most, and Eric will happily remain with his spouse.

One thing Clark Kent/Superman will not be in this story is uncharacteristically gay. Another thing he won't be is a spouse stealing, home-wrecking, jerk so, you won't see him taking anyone's husband or wife away from them.

As far as I'm concerned, Eric's just one half of a modern married couple that can be found in today's society and not some attempt at "Stealth Slash". Whatever Eric and his spouse does in the privacy of their own bedroom stays there, and will not end up on screen.

Now, on with the story...

The snow swirled about him as the wind picked it up from atop the ice, and he shivered in the cold despite the black parka which was rated for temperatures up to fifty degrees below zero. His son, who was the current Robin, had stitched ears onto the black garment, making it look a bit like a chunky version of his bat cowl. The wind that howled around him in the desolate snowy expanse dropped the temperature lower and lower, -48, -49...

Nobody had known what would be created that night back in 1920 when the Wayne family had taken a shortcut through an alley on their way home from watching The Mark of Zorro, least of all Bruce Wayne. Bruce had been the first, then the first Robin Dick Grayson for a time, before he resumed his duties as the first Nightwing, then Damian Wayne through whose line the tradition continued. He was the latest of that line.

The swirling blinding white beneath the Arctic sunlight made him nervous, edgy. Bats belonged in the shadows, in the twilight, the dusk, the darkness. After generations in the night, the Wayne family was practically nocturnal, and some people were beginning to half-jokingly suggest that they were vampires. Neither he nor his were vampires however, just men who patrolled a seemingly eternal night putting fear into the hearts of those who would prey upon the weak. He, like his predecessors, was the Dark Knight of Gotham as his son would be after him, and he was so far away from home right now that it wasn't even funny.

The reason he was here in this bright snowy waste was because the world needed a hero. Not his sort of hero though. Not one that lurked in the shadows creating fear. What the world needed right now was a hero who could stand in the light creating hope. An example to look up to and follow.

Determined to bring the world that hero, he continued forward despite the chill of the Arctic ice that was seeping into his bones. He didn't really have much further to go anyway, because his destination now stood before him, the deceptively cold sunlight turning it into a dazzling crystal palace. It was a thing of beauty that stood out from the stark whiteness of its surroundings throwing out rainbows from every surface. This beautiful sight before him wasn't a palace however, but a fortress that stood alone at the center of a no-fly zone. Inviolate. Visitors not welcome. A true fortress of solitude which was occupied by one individual, the person with whom he'd come to talk.

After another hour's walking, he found himself at the threshold of the fortress that had not been visited by any but its owner for years. Though the door seemed open, that was most likely not the case. Too many had tried to break into this place both while it was occupied and while its occupant was away for one to believe that the seemingly open space that served as an entrance wasn't closed in some way that wasn't visible to the naked eye. Some who had tried to enter over the years as he was doing now had succeeded, but most had failed. He was counting on the...man's former friendship with his great-grandfather in order to get his foot in the door.

After checking for obvious traps which he would have to disarm, and hoping that he didn't set off any not-so-obvious Kryptonian ones which he would have little to no defense against, he set one foot over the threshold, and then another when an explosion failed to happen. When an explosion failed to happen the second he'd gotten both feet over the threshold, he continued walking. As he made his way through the fortress, watchful for traps along the way despite the fact that it looked like he'd been given permission to enter and have his audience with the Man of Steel, he noted that the place wasn't what he had been expecting.

He didn't know what he'd really been expecting though. The fortress his grandfather had spoken of visiting perhaps. A museum containing artifacts that were related to the life of its occupant had also come up when trying to picture the place where he currently strongly felt like an intruder. Some of his more outrageous musings had even involved an old person's home complete with pictures of loved ones and little knick-knacks scattered about. All of them had seemed potentially possible for the being who had hit his century mark several years earlier that occupied this fortress that lived up to the name of The Fortress of Solitude.

Whatever he'd been expecting though, it wasn't this.

The place was stark, white, utterly devoid of decoration, and just as cold as the outside, though it felt colder somehow. There was also a pervasive sense of being watched, measured, assessed, and found lacking in some way.

Between one second and the next, as his guard was beginning to drop due to a lack of immediate danger, he suddenly went from being alone to finding himself standing in front of Superman. Or rather, finding Superman who hadn't been there a moment before standing before him.

The suit Superman wore hadn't changed all that much over the last seven and a half decades, but the occupant...

Though the being wearing the iconic suit looked human on the surface, there was no mistaking him for a human being. The being's eyes and expression were flat, cold, and utterly alien. Although his face was as ageless and unlined as it had been in the photographs in the family album, it was completely unlike the way it had been in those old pictures he used to leaf through when he was young. Not in the physical sense. The black hair, blue eyes, and strong jaw were completely unchanged; but unlike in those old pictures, there was no sign of anything even remotely human about Superman's face. There was no sign of the laughter, good humor, and occasional mischief he'd spotted in the old photographs from his grandfather's and great-grandfather's day. There was no sign of a man who would pull the occasional good-natured prank on a boy who was too full of himself. There was...Nothing.

Steeling his nerves, he reminded himself why he had come.

"Superman, we need to talk." he said.

"So, talk." Superman replied in a voice that was devoid of any inflection.

Edited 9-1-16