***THIS STORY HAS NOW BEEN EDITED FOR GRAMMAR AND SPELLING AND FLOW AS OF AUG.4/2016***

Disclaimer- Dc Comics owns all of the characters in this story, which is a different interpretation of how the Dark Knight and The Man of Steel first meet. I take no credit for imagining up the two characters, only for this unique first encounter between the two.

This Story is an intro piece to my own interpretation of the DCU, and I chose to focus on the first meeting of Superman and Batman. Though it's more of a young Clark Kent meets a Bruce Wayne who is very early on in his career and is still getting into his own groove of things in Gotham. In this story you get to see 'Kal' as he embarks on his quest in Gotham in search of the Batman, who he thinks can help him control his abilities.

I would like to make everyone aware that I have gone back through the story as of AUGUST 1, 2016. And it has been edited into a much easier story to read.

And Please leave a review if you like what you've read. A little encouragement never hurt :p. And I do enjoy reading them. Plus if you have any ideas as to something you think might be coming, just ask and I'll drop some clues. I have the whole story plotted out, writing is just the hard part. And please be constructive if you're going to give criticism; nothing is worse than an idiot ranting when they haven't even read the story.

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"Carry on My Wayward Son. There will be Peace Once you are done."

...

It was a dark night in Gotham City, much like any other night. The streets were littered with the forgotten outcasts of a society who seldom cast them any notice. These outcasts divide themselves into two groups of people, the kind who live off the scraps of the rich, and those who live off the garbage of the poor.

Though there has been hope in the last two years of Gotham's long and disastrous life. A single man, draped in darkness has been taking down the criminal fraternity from the inside out; a man who has taken it upon himself to clear out the wretched and the corrupt from the underbelly of Gotham. The Batman.

He is what has the people filled with hope...and fear; and Gotham has begun to enter into an almost apprehensive prosperity under the Dark Knights watchful eye; now that he is no more a myth, since he was forced to step into the Light from the Darkness.

There are those who still fear this creature of the night, but there is one among those outcasts of society, of the dreg of this emerging utopia, who seeks him out.

He had been in Gotham for weeks, seeking out The Batman, but to no avail. Now he lay inside of a broken down safe-house, in the lower East End of Gotham. The safe-house had been put up years ago by Thomas Wayne, one of Gothams wealthiest businessmen, who had tried for years to stop the steady decline of Gothams elite to sleazy business practices inspired by Corporate Giant Lionel Luthor, whose under-the-table dealings had long since infected Gotham City.

The building had once had the words 'Wayne House' engraved on the front above the door, but these words had long since faded; the windows were boarded up, it no longer had the warmth it must have once emanated.

There the man lay on a bench, trying to force the images from his past out of his mind... A gun shot, he can see the face of the man shooting him, his best friend. He can feel the metal hit his skin and bounce of him like a peanut. The image is engraved into his mind; he cannot force it out. The bullet bounces off of him, but it doesn't stop. He could have stopped it, if he had known it would happen he could have stopped it. He can still hear the sound of the bullet tearing through flesh and imbedding itself in her spine. He can hear it.

He sits up, the image still etching itself deeper into his mind. She falls to the ground with a whelp that he hears as if she had screamed it. He looks to Lex, who is bewildered that his friend is still standing. He grabs Lex by the collar and throws him into the wall and he falls over, out like a light.

He shakes his head and brings himself back to the moment. He is sitting underneath a rundown homeless shelter in the rain. He took out his fathers' pocket watch. It was midnight; a great time for him to continue searching for The Batman. They call him the World Greatest Detective, that's got to count for something. Maybe there was a chance he'd be able to help him control his abilities.

He stands up, he hears her cry out "kal..." He can hear her shortness of breath. "Snap out of it!" He shakes his head again. He reaches up to the silver chain around his neck and grasps the crystal that dangles off of it in his fingers, running his index finger through the S-like inscription upon it. He remembered back to when he received the crystal, and when he learned the truth…he was not the son of Jonathan and Martha Kent, he wasn't even human.

Tears run down his cheek as he remembered when his adopted parents showed him the ship they found him in, and when it opened up to reveal an image of a man clad in white, who bore the symbol on his chest. He stopped himself before he thought about the words the man spoke…he didn't want to think about it.

"Pull yourself together Kent." He thought to himself as he shook his head again. He grabbed a hold of a nearby post and griped it firmly. Gotham was a dangerous place, even for him, and he had to stay sharp.

He looked down to the post he had grabbed a hold of, he had crushed it. As he released his grip the top part of the post bent over at its weakened point where he had gripped it, and the sign snapped in two under its own weight.

He looked down at the broken post…his mind raced back to when he was arguing with his Father about the ship.

"I don't care what that thing said to you…you're my son! You're Clark Kent!" Jonathan grabbed a hold of both of his shoulders, but he didn't want to be touched.

"Let go!" He screamed, giving his father a gentle push. Jonathan flew across the kitchen table and into the china cabinet. Jonathan fell to the floor as fine china shattered all around him. The cabinets legs buckled and it began to topple over onto of Jonathan.

"No! Stay focused!" He said to himself out loud, so that he could hear it. It had been nearly six months since he had left Miami, since he had a friend in the world to talk to. But no one he knew could comprehend what he was going through. So his hope fell to a stranger who dresses up like a bat. Clarks only hope was that there was something 'super' about this Batman, just like him.

He had to stop dwelling in the past. Clark Kent was dead. He was Kal now. And he had a job to do.

He burst into super speed and began moving through the streets of Gotham. He had learned back in Star City that if he wore anything but black he would leave a blur of color behind him, so he had adopted wearing a black leather jacket. He sped by Wayne Tower and stopped at the base of one of the neighboring Penthouse towers that were also owned by Bruce Wayne. Kal pushed himself down and then leapt with enough force to jump a top of the building. Kal soared at incredible speed up the side of the building and passed his mark. He fell back down to the rooftop and landed with a loud thud. Newspaper said Wayne was still in Berlin, so Kal came to this rooftop often to scope out the city.

Kal looked out into Gotham…somewhere out there The Batman was hunting, and all of Kal's efforts to find him had failed so far, every lead went dry at some point. Even with his super senses finding the Batman was not an easy task.

Kal utilized his hearing and tried to sort out all of the voices. He could hear a couple laughing as they enjoyed each others company. His mind momentarily flashed back to Lana at her farm, then quickly to the point where he had thrown her boyfriend Whitney into a car, then quickly back to where he was.

He was on the rooftop for only a minute before he heard a cry for help; a woman screaming for someone to save her. He ran down the side of the building and began to run as fast as he could to where she was. He burst around a corner into a dark alley and there they were; two men were robbing a young lady, one grabbed at her purse while the other one was moving around the two, ready to strike.

Kal rushed in grabbing the one who was standing there and tossed him twenty feet into a nearby garbage bin. The woman stopped screaming and released her purse, the other robber also released it and it fell to the ground. Kal was hidden in the shadows and quickly sped by the second robber and tossed his right into the bin with his friend.

Kal moved out of the shadows seeing that the woman was still stricken with fear. He knelt over, picking up her purse. He then offered it to her and said, "I believe this is yours." He let a wide smile brim across his face, the woman seemed to relax and reached out for her purse.

"Thank you." She took the purse and swung it around her shoulder, then started to dig through her purse. "Doesn't look like they took anything... So do you think I," but as she looked up to thank her rescuer again, he was gone.

Kal was half way to an abandoned warehouse where he could hear gunfire by the time the girl had looked up from her purse. As he raced towards the gunfire he heard the sound of car wheels' screech, followed shortly by a loud crash and a scream. Kal blocked the sounds from his mind, he had to find The Batman, and no matter how much Kal tried to pretend like there was nothing he could have done, he felt horrible inside for not even trying…

S

Hanging off of a buildings emergency escape hatch not far away from the woman who had been attacked by thieves, a man draped in a black cape examines the photograph he had just taken on his cameras monitor. He had arrived on the scene just moments before the rescuer shower up, and before he could react to the thieves, a man sped in unseen and took out both of the robbers with the swat of his hands. He examined the mans face; bright blue eyes, really bright. He had long jet black hair, some scruff on his face, but with a smile that calmed the fearful. He had found something here, and he wanted to know exactly who he was dealing with.

Batman quickly made his way back to the Batmobile, which he had hidden in a warehouse several blocks form where he was doing his patrol. He set the car to autopilot as he uploaded the pictures to the cars computer. He pulled up the picture of the mans face and ran it against the Gotham police archives. Batman took manual control of the car while the computer did its search.

After several moments the computer made a noise indicating that its search had finished. Batman reengaged autopilot only to find that there was no record of him in Gotham. Batman shrugged as he would now have to wait until he returned to the cave to research the stranger further. Batman left the car on autopilot and pulled up his files on The Joker, who had recently escaped from Arkham.

The Batmobile roared into the cave, up in Wayne manor there was a loud ring that rang through the dining room out of the butlers' wrist watch to alert him of his masters' return. He put down his duster and made his way to the kitchen and removed a small bat shaped piece of metal from the top drawer, and then he headed down to the wine cellar. He pulled on a dusty looking bottle of chardonnay on a wine rack and a loud click was heard. The wine rack moved aside to reveal a large plated cellar door. Where the keyhole should have been, there was instead an engraving of a bat.

Alfred took the small metal bat and inserted it into the engraving. The door made a few noises before opening up to reveal a large cylindrical tube. Alfred made a large gulping noise and said quietly to himself, "I hate doing this." He stepped into the tube and began to slide downward very fast. Alfred began to feel sick as he reached higher and higher speeds. Suddenly Alfred felt a large burst of air come up form beneath him and his decent began to slow and he fell softly onto a large blue pad.

Alfred pulled himself up and began to fix up his shirt. "That's it," he said aloud, "I'm not coming back down until the elevator is repaired" Alfred got ready to march off but then stopped himself, he ran towards a small cupboard near where a large pad was placed and pulled out a serving tray, a tea pot and glasses, an electrical water kettle and biscuits. He filled the water kettle placed it on the tray with everything else and made his way along the long narrow stone corridor in the dark tunnel.

Alfred did not understand how Bruce could keep himself locked away down here for days on end. But then again there was a lot Alfred had trouble understanding about Bruce, but it was not his job to understand, although he tried, but to guide him through his endeavors and keep him safe. He was the last of Wayne family, the last of everything Alfred had worked so hard to help maintain.

Alfred quickly pulled himself out of his thoughts as he approached the platform where the Batmobile was parked. He moved passed it to the platform where Bruce sat at his computer with his hood on, leaning forward with his face buried in a computer screen, not acknowledging Alfred as he walked up behind him.

"Good evening Master Bruce." Alfred said as he plugged the water kettle into the outlet. "How many would you like in your tea?" Bruce didn't speak; he just sat there transfixed by his computer screen. "Master Bruce?" Bruce turned around slowly, removing his cowl as he did. He had a very serious look on his face, and his eyes had the look as if he was deep in thought.

"Tell me Alfred," he said, "Do you believe in aliens?" Alfred laughed to himself, imagining the pictures he had seen on the television of green men with odd shaped heads and little bodies.

"Pardon me, Sir? Do you mean little green men?" Alfred said still chuckling, but Bruce sat there, stone faced.

"No." he said as he turned around and turned on the large computer screen with a picture of a man with piercing blue eyes, and right next to it what looked like a blur tossing aside a person. Beneath those pictures was a missing persons report of a young boy who looked strikingly similar to the man with long jet black hair, and beside that a newspaper clipping of a recorded meteor shower around the time of the boys' birth. "I mean a missing farm boy from Kansas."