To the Death

by Harriet Vane

Supperman is lucky that Batman's around when someone trys (and fails continualy) to Kill Clark Kent

None of these characters are mine and any resemblance to real people or events is most likely planed.

To the Death

Bruce Wayne really didn't like to leave Gotham. Every time he did he worried constantly that some psycho would break out of Arkham, or a new psycho would come out of nowhere and threaten half the city. And where was Batman during all this? Having a Martini in the Drake Hotel. At least he knew that Robin would be there if the need arose. And Alfred had promised to call him at the first sign of trouble. So as he sipped his martini and discovered that it was a little dry, he was relatively at ease. The reason that he had left his precious city was, to attend the Thirteenth Annual Business Mens Conference in Metropolis. He was a keynote speaker. Why, he didn't know. He had minimal business training, no real education in it, and the most he had ever contributed to the Wayne Tech business was the name. But never the less, if you had a lot of money, they thought that you would be able to tell them how to get a lot of money. As he sipped his dry Martini he looked over the notes for his speech: How to be a people person. Bruce knew that it was not a skill which could be thought, not to mention be learnt at a one hour seminar, after the dessert while one was sipping coffee. The idea was ludicrous, but never the less 543 people gave fifty dollars each to attend his lecture. On the sidelines of the notes, Bruce jotted down the names of the charities he was going to give the money to. First off there was Leslie's Mission, then there was the Wayne Tech Disability Research Center, then there was the Gotham Home for the Blind, and that...

"Bruce? Is that you." Bruce swivelled on his bar stool to see the smiling face of Clark Kent, mild mannered reporter for the Daily Planet. "I'm glad you're here," he said with unusual seriousness.

"Clark! It's been too long, why don't you have a drink with me?"

Clark sat on the stool next to Bruce, but he didn't order a drink. "So, how is Gotham?"

"Not bad, not bad. It worries me silly to be gone though. I hope this whole event goes by quick."

"I don't, it gives me good excuse to be in public."

"Why would you want to be in public? It makes it harder to change suits." That probably wasn't what a normal person would say, and it didn't exactly make the situation clear, but both Bruce and Clark knew exactly what was meant.

"It also makes it harder for assassins."

"Assassins!" Bruce turned away from his drink and his work to locate his disturbed colleague in the eye. "But surely they can't . . . "

"Maybe we should talk about this somewhere more private," Clark suggested softly.

"Yes, maybe we should."

They chatted quietly as they went up to Bruce's suite. Once there they got down to business. "Now, what's all this about assassins?" Bruce asked critically.

"In the last three days someone has tried to kill me twice."

"How?"

"The first time I was walking down the street and there was a drive-by shooting."

Bruce didn't show the usual level of concern, but rather to a somewhat academic interest in the matter. "Were you hit?"

"Yes, but everything happened so fast I was able to convince people that they missed me. No one was hurt."

"Who saw the incident?"

"Lois, I was walking with her, and Bob the Barber, it was in front of his shop. And just other people who were in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"But you don't know any of them?" Bruce's tone was noticeably darker.

"No, that was on Wednesday. Then yesterday my coffee tasted strange at work, so I did a few test on it and . . . "

"Poison?"

"Exactly. My body chemistry is different enough that it didn't affect me, but I had to pretend to become violently ill, or else the murderers would have caught on."

"Is it possible that they already know and are testing their theories?"

"I thought of that. It's possible. But I somehow think that they would have more sophisticated plots. All my escapes have been entirely plausible."

"And incredibly lucky."

"My luck would eventually run out. And if people are there, I don't know how my little secret will be kept."

Bruce walked over to a his briefcase and opened a small secret compartment. "You want me to find out who's doing this and why."

"If it's not a bother."

He pulled out a dark cape and cowl. "None at all."

"Oh, there's one more thing that you should know about." Clark pulled several pieces of paper out of his coat pocket. "I've been finding these all over the place, and I don't know what they mean." He handed them to Bruce. They were all cocktail napkins, the sort that waiters put drinks on. Each one said 'I see you' in cryptic writing and there were at least a dozen of them. "I looked up all the restaurants, there isn't any obvious connections. Some are in the inner city, others are miles out of town. He pulled a red one out of the middle of the pile. It had Miss Patty's printed on it in silver, "This one is from Smallville Kansas."

"Your hometown."

"If I lose my secret identity it won't be that bad for me. But I'm worried about my folks and Jimmy and Perry and Lois. They would become no more than bait."

"I understand. If you don't mind I'll call for Robin to come out here and help. Bruce Wayne still has duties to perform as keynote speaker."

"I knew I could depend on you."

Bruce smiled at his comrade. "We're not out of this yet, partner."

Dick Grayson got off of the train whistling a song from a movie he had seen the other night with Barbra. It was a romantic movie, the kind he really loved but wouldn't go see on his own. Dick considered himself far to manly to like romantic movies.

He had been to Metropolis many times, and to be honest he loved the city. It was so much cleaner than Gotham. Bruce was staying at the Drake Hotel; he could take the subway to Main Street and walk from there. All he had with him as a duffel bag with a few outfits, one of which had a cape, and a small laptop computer which he could hook up to the Batcave's computer if the need arose. From years of continual upheaval and living on the move, Dick knew how to pack light. He was casually walking through grand central station when a confused man about Dick's age, maybe a little older, came up to him. "Dick Grayson?" He asked shyly.

"Yeah?"

The man smiled broadly, he may have been older than Dick but he was shorter and had the aura of a nerd hanging around him. "I'm Jimmy Olsen, I work at the Daily Planet, C.K., I mean Clark Kent, told me to come and get you."

Dick smiled, "Jimmy Olsen, right. I've seen your pictures in the planet, you have a very good eye."

Jimmy smiled and looked down at the ground for a second, "Thanks," he muttered. Then he became serious and almost business like. "We should get going, they're waiting for us at the restaurant."

"They?"

"Lois, Clark, and your . . . " he stumbled over how to define Bruce and Dick's relationship, finally he steeled on "friend, Mr. Wayne."

"Wow, a real party." Dick said with a little wonder in his voice. He had come on Bruce's beckoning, without question, and he was glad to be in Metropolis, but he had know idea what he was being dragged into. Wayne Manor got the Daily Planet as well as the Gotham papers, so Dick was very familiar with Lois Lane and Clark Kent and even Jimmy Olsen's work. But why would Batman be concerned with them. Shouldn't Superman handle that? Dick shrugged that question of and followed the excitable photographer through the train station and out the door.

The two men and one lady who sat in an obvious table in the Drake Hotel's overpriced restaurant were receiving many glances. Everyone knew Bruce Wayne, but why was he talking to reporters. All the gossip hunters where dying to hear the conversation at that table. More heads were turned when two young men, one with a large duffel bag, came in and sat down with the three. Those in the know knew that one of the young men was the photographer for the Daily Planet, and the other was Bruce Wayne's foster kid, or something. All in all, the gossip columns were filled with talk before Bruce and Dick got back to the Hotel.

"So what's up?" He asked casually as he unpacked his few belongings in a suite next to Bruce's.

"Superman's in trouble."

That was a first. "And he need's our help?"

"Yes, he need's us to discover who is trying to kill him."

"Someone is trying to kill Superman! I thought that was impossible"

"No ones directly tried to kill Superman yet, so far there only after Clark Kent.

"I got lost on that last explanation."

"Superman is Clark Kent."

Dick froze for a moment. He put a picture of the kind reporter in his head and compared it to the dashing super hero. He didn't know to much about either of them, but the more he thought of it the more plausible it sounded. "Hum," was his only acknowledgment. "So he asked Batman for a little help?"

"Yes, but I have to go to all these business meetings and society lunches while I'm here. I need you to do a little private investigating."

"So who else knows?"

"No one."

Dick chuckled, "No one?"

"As far as I know."

"This isn't going to be easy."

"Things like this rarely are. I have a lot of official things to go to, so I won't be able to help much. I've talked to Clark, he said that you can have the full resources of the Daily Planet at you fingertips."

"Great, I've always wanted to hang out in a news room. But shouldn't he be under police protection or something?"

"They offered, he refused. You've got to remember if something big happens he has to be ready."

"That didn't make them suspicious?"

"Clark has too reputable a character, and he made some excuse about needing to keep up with his job."

"I'm surprised that they let him stay at work." Dick said, he set up the computer and started typing in some information.

"As far as I can tell he's been able to keep these attempts a secret. The police know, but no one else."

"Wow, why can't you ever do stuff like that."

Bruce glanced at his young friend playfully, "He is one of the press, not dogged by them."

"Oh," Dick chuckled, "right."

Bruce and Dick met Clark, Lois and Jimmy as the three walked into the Large Ballroom of the Drake hotel where the Opening Ceremonies were being held. "Good morning, Clark, Lois, Jimmy. How have you been?" Bruce asked good naturedly, although for those in the know the question was loaded.

"Nothing noteworthy's happened." Clark said cheerfully, "But I do have something to show you." he grabbed Bruce's arm and gently pulled him away.

"Where are those boys going?" Lois said in a huffy tone. She glanced at her present company, they were both very sweet, very handsome, very young. "Jimmy, I'm going to work the crowd. Keep close."

"Right Lois." They floated off to talk to old rich guys and Dick slowly migrated toward Bruce and Clark. He hit the tail end of a conversation.

"Do you expect any problems?" Bruce asked. Dick noticed a napkin in Bruce's hand.

"I think it would be prudent to be on my guard. Obviously whoever is doing this is still on my tail."

"I agree. Dick," Bruce turned to his ward, "stay with Clark and keep an eye on him. Call me if anything happens."

"No problem."

Obviously Clark didn't feel the same way. "What if I'm attacked and Dick get's cought up in the middle off it? I can't guarantee anything."

"I can take care of myself." Dick said defensively.

"Clark," the annoyed voice of the lovely Lois Lane called out. "Perry didn't send us hear to talk to your friends."

"That's right, Lois, he sent us hear to consort with millionaires. That is exactly what I'm doing."

Lois rolled her eyes, "Fine, but you'd better get a really good story out of it or else I'm telling Perry."

Clark chuckled. "Your disturbing the interview, what do you want?"

"The seminar on self help is starting in Ball Room J. I'm going over there."

"Expect to pick up any tips?"

"Yes, actually. But, unlike some people the Story is my first concern. Perry said that it would make a wonderful human interest piece."

"News must be pretty slow for the Daily Planet to send it's best reporters of on human interest stories." Bruce commented good naturedly.

"You have no idea." Lois was obviously exasperated by the whole situation. Very smoothly Bruce walked up to her and offered her his arm, which she accepted, sliping a mischievous glance at Clark. For his park Clark looked relived. He trusted Bruce to be honorable, and he would keep her out of harms way. But there was still Jimmy hanging on his trail.

"Why don't you follow Lois; get a few shots of the seminar?"

"Nah," the photographer said non-chalantly. "I'm bound to find something interesting if I just wander around. I'll catch you two later." And he was off.

"Up for a little interview?" Dick asked with a raise of his eyebrow and a hint of a smile on his lips.

"Yes, I suppose." Clark was much more sober.

They sat at a table; Dick had out his computer. "I've entered the hand writing on the napkins into the Batcomputer's data base and so far I've come up with nothing. But the culprit is left handed and the ink is used by a company which specializes in personalized pens. You know, the kind a small business or a Church would buy to pass along the word. The company's called 'Your name Your Game' but I think that investigation there would be fruitless, because they make so many of those pens. Can you think of any organization, or group of people who would want to get you?"

Clark leaned back and rolled his eyes. "I don't know, There certainly could be, I just don't make enemies easily."

"You obviously made some enemies. No one ever gave you a nasty phone call or threatened you or cursed you or anything?"

"No, not really."

Dick sighed, this would be harder than he thought. "Ok, Lois has lots of enemies, right?"

"Yes, do you think someone's trying to get to her through me?"

"No, but she usually gets on peoples bad side by writing uncomplimentary stories about them, right?"

"You think I wrought an uncomplimentary story about someone, and they want to kill me now?"

"Basically, yeah."

"But I don't write like Lois writes."

"Wha'da'ya mean?"

"She can be vicious sometimes. She wants the truth to be known, and so do I. But where as I look for happy ending's reformation, that sort of thing, she looks for justice and repayment. I guess that I'm a tad more merciful than she, and she's a better reporter." Clark had a distant look in his eye. Dick could tell that he was admiring Lois. He had the same sort of happy silly expression that Bruce had when he was thinking about Selina, and Dick himself had a very similar expression whenever he was thinking about the lovely Barbra Gordon. But romantic thoughts had to wait till after death threats were dealt with. "Is there any way I could get a look at all the articles you've written in the last six months?"

Clark looked at the young man skeptically, "That's a lot of reading."

"I'm in collage," Dick said non-chalantly, "I'm used to lots and lots of reading."

"Ok," Clark chuckeled. "We'll run over to the Planet and get you a copy."

"Wait!" Jimmy yelled across the Display room. Clark and Dick halted mid stride and watched the photographer run across the room. "Are you going back?" Jimmy wanted, once he got to them.

"Yeah, do you want to come?" Clark asked.

"Think I got some great shots, I want to see how they turn out."

The three men walked over to the elevator and waited for it to come to take them to street level. When it reached them it seemed to make a funny screeching sound.

"I think we should take the stairs," Clark suggested hesitantly.

"Come on, I have about thirty pounds of camera equipment to lug around." Jimmy argued. The doors opened and he stepped in without hesitation. Dick and Clark followed warily. The doors shut and the elevator moved slowly downward. Something still sounded wrong to Clark, he scooted his glasses down and examined the outside of the elevator using his X-ray vision. He hadn't noticed anything wrong when Dick nudged him on the shoulder. "I found this on the floor in hear." Dick whispered and handed Clark a napkin that had the name of one of the conference food vendors printed on it. Written on the napkin where the words "I see you".

"What's that?" Jimmy asked as he leaned over Dicks shoulder to get a look at the napkin, but he never got one because at that moment the elevator began to go faster and all three men fell to the floor.

Dick glanced at Clark, This was a very Supermanish situation, but Clark only looked frustratedly at the floor. He couldn't do anything super with Jimmy watching. And poor Jimmy was watching.

"What are we going to do!" he yelled. He had found his way to his knees and pushed the emergency stop button but to no avail.

"Jimmy!" Dick yelled, "Watch out!" But Jimmy didn't have time to watch out because even as he said it Dick hit the photographer on his head with tripod. Jimmy was out like a light.

Clark looked at Dick with a somewhat stunned expression. "What did you do that for?"

"Hurry up and save us!" Dick said with exasperation.

With a new resolve Clark jumped up and crashed through the ceiling. In two seconds the elevator stopped suddenly; Dick fell onto his hands and knees violently. But they were still going down slowly. Soon Dick felt the elevator nestled into the bottom of the shaft and Clark floated back into the cab. "Thanks," Dick said a little breathlessly.

"No problem."

Jimmy had an ice pack on his head because, as Dick had told him 'a big chunk of the elevators ceiling feel on it'. All in all, he didn't feel to bad and his excitement was not detoured in the least. Once they got back to the news room he made a bee line for the dark room. Clark took Dick to his desk. "All my stories are on these disk," Clark said as he handed the young detective a case of disk. "I don't know what exactly your looking for so I don't know how I can help you."

"That's fine. If there's anything here I'll find it. If not we'll just have to look somewhere else." Dick dove into the thousands of news stories with vigor and Clark decided to let him do so alone. The reporter went over to Lois's desk to use the computer and write about his interview with the most eligible bachelor in the Continental United States. But he didn't get very far. Perry walked up to him around the third sentience. "Jimmy told me about how he got that bump on his head." Perry said calmly, but Clark could see were this conversation was going. "That would be a newsworthy story."

Clark swivelled around in his chair. "Perry, I really don't want to write about it."

"Come on Clark, this is news. And you went through it first hand. Every other paper in this town is going to cover it, but The Planet has something that they don't. An experienced reporter who was there at the time. Don't you see the gold in that?"

"Look, chief, I don't mean to hamper the press or hinder the news, but I just feel that I'm too close to the story to do it justice. Lois is starving for a good story, give it to her. Or give it to a younger reporter, maybe Kevin or Nell. They can interview me, and I'll help them with some of the stylistic stuff. Then we can have a bi-line. How's that?"

"I don't think so. Clark, real news is not a training exercise, and right now we are in a bind to find real news. And you just fall into it."

"That's not funny," Clark injected, Perry ignored him.

"Now I realize that you might be a little shaken up after this but you need to move on. And I can't think of any better way than to write about it."

"I'm not going to win this one am I?"

"Not a chance."

Clark turned to the computer, "I'll have twenty inches by tomorrow."

"That's my boy." Perry said as he gently hit Clark on the shoulder. "But can you make it thirty?"

"You're the boss."

"You got that right." Then he walked away to get some photographer, hopefully not Jimmy, to go and get lots of shots of the wrecked elevator.

"Bruce, Bruce," Lois Lanes whispered as she elbowed him in the gut. "Bruce, wake up."

With a bit of a start Bruce woke up and noticed everyone else was clapping, he quickly followed suit. He realized that he was in a large auditorium, but he didn't remember sitting down to hear the skinny young man who was bowing excessively, get up and talk. He leaned over to Lois, "Who is he?"

"Trevor Keller, he made a mint this year by investing in third world industries. Personally I think the guy is a jerk, using child labor and paying two dollars for thirteen hours work. But who am I to go against the flow?"

Bruce couldn't help but chucked, "I figured you would be the first to go against the flow."

Lois laughed and started following everyone else as they slowly filled out of the room. "I like you Bruce." She said good naturedly. She knew his reputation as a womanizer; she was too smart to think that he had any realistic romantic interest in her. But since Clark had been so gung-ho about the guy she decided to give him a chance. To her surprise he was a genuine, kind, and pleasant man. She was having a good time while Clark was off baby-sitting a college student. Life wasn't fair, but that was half of the reason Lois loved it.

Once they got out of the Ballroom they were surprised to discover a crowed swarming the elevator, or rather an empty elevator shaft. "What's going on?" Lois mumbled to herself..

"Let's find out," Bruce said that he grabbed her arm and pulled her towards the elevator shaft. As the gently fought their way towards the elevator door they were able to pick out bits pieces of other people's conversations as they discussed Kent elevators accident.

'It fell nearly 12 floors.' ' I heard they were people in it.' ' Yes, I heard one of them was a reporter.''Yeah, it was that Clark Kent guy from the Daily Planet, you know Superman's friend.' 'It's a good thing he Superman's friend too, because he would have been crushed like a bug.' 'They say the wires are cut, like it was a murder attempt or something.' 'Lucky, that's all I have to say those guys are darn lucky.'

Bruce and Lois finally reached the elevator shaft and peered down to see the wrecked car and snapped wires. "I think we need to find Clark and the boys," Lois said turning to the serious face of Bruce Wayne.

"Right away." He responded drily.

They ordered pizza that night. Mainly because Lois didn't want to let Clark go out in public. The three adults, Bruce, Lois, and Clark, sat around Lois desk after everyone else had gone home. Dick was still reading news articles; he had a half eaten slice of pizza and a cup of flat soda sitting next to him. He only hear bits and pieces of the conversation that was exploding across the room.

"Threatening notes, several assassination attempts, and you didn't tell me!" Lois fumed.

"Because I knew you would act like this." Clark said defensively. "I didn't want you to worry."

"I want to help you, Clark. You should have told me."

"Why? What could you have done?"

"I..." she faltered, trying to think of something she could have done. "I could have made sure you were safe."

"I'm not any safer hear than I am at home or in the middle of a crowded hotel." Clark said calmly.

"You don't seem very upset," Clark could tell she was miffed. "Death threats usually put me on my guard."

"I am on me guard, but I'm not going to let them realize that. I think all they really want to do scare me and if I don't they'll eventually the give up."

"Or they'll blow your brains out." Lois said bitterly; she didn't like losing arguments.

"Then I'll just have to hope that Superman is watching." Clark said smugly, as he put another piece of pizza in his mouth.

Lois looked at him with genuine contempt. "What if he isn't?"

"Then I'm dead." Clark said simply, Lois threw her mineral water at him. Unfortunately for Lois the water happened to be in a bottle so that Clark didn't get very wet and she had a gush of water run down her arm.

The lovers quarrel was interrupted by the rather hoarse voice of Dick Grayson calling across the room. "Hay, Clark, can I see you for a second?"

Clark smiled at the dripping Lois and excused himself. "What's up?" he asked Dick as the younger man took a drink of his soda, discovered it was flat, and put back on the desk a little farther away than it had been.

"This one raises some questions." Dick said, pointing to the computer screen as he reached for the cold pizza. It's temperature didn't bother him in the least. "Like, after she got the kid back, what did the family, and the church for that matter, do?"

The story was one he had worked on about three months ago. It was about a girl who had been raised in an incredibly strict church. In fact a local priest whom Clark had interviewed for the piece said that the members of this church were not interested in worshiping God but in controlling people. Anyways the girl left for college, much to the entire congregation's displeasure, and promptly found herself pregnant. She was forced to leave school to care for her child and she turned to the only place she knew of for help, her family and her church. They basically put her through hell on earth as she tried to jump through hoops and make everyone happy, but in the end they disowned her and her baby was taken from her. She was devastated. Fortunately an old friend of her's learned about the situation and called the Daily Planet. Clark brought the City's attention to the horrible way the girl had been treated and the glume future the baby faced. The child was returned and the church was given some sort of official warning and certainly a lot of bad press. There was reason for resentment, but murder seamed like a stretch.

"They're a church, Dick, they wouldn't gang up to kill a person."

"Most churches I'd agree with you, but this one is not exactly common. Right here you say that their actions are 'destructive and vindictive.'"

"But murder?,"

"How far away is it from murder?"

Clark sighed, deep down he had a feeling that Dick was right. And he knew that nothing could stop a 'holy' war.

As they walked out of the Planet Building onto the Parking Deck, Lois was still complaining. "Clark there must be something you'll agree to to enhance your safety."

"Lois, we've been over this, there is no place I'm totally safe. So hiding out is pointless. Call me crazy but I think Superman will able to spot any troubles I have."

They walked out in between the rows of cars until they reached Clark's car. Clark was determined to go home and rest; Bruce and Dick said that they would go with him and make sure that he would stay out of trouble. Lois was not in the least assured by that. She liked Bruce and his little side kick, but she had no faith in their defensive capabilities.

As she pondered how those three men would be spending their evening, Clark stopped rigidly in front of her.

"Clark, what's the matter?" Lois said accusingly.

"We need to get out of here right now!" He exclaimed. He grabbed Lois' arm and started running back the way they came. Bruce and Dick picked up suit and started running. In less then three seconds the garage behind them was engulfed in flames. All four of them where thrown from their feet. Bruce and Dick were able to role when they hit the ground, minimizing the damage done to their bodies. And, much to Lois' surprise, she and Clark seemed to fall with an unusual lightness. "Are you all right?" He asked her breathlessly as he helped her up.

"Fine, I'm fine." She said defensively as she pushed him away. She was still a little shaken and it did feel very safe to have Clark's arms around her, despite the fact that this time he was dragging her into danger. But she was not going to be a damsel in distress more than absolutely necessary. Superman had saved her so many times it became a part of there relationship. She didn't want to have that type of relationship with Clark.

As the two reporters got up, Bruce leaned over to Dick, and said "I'm going for help." And he was gone in the blink of an eye. A few seconds later Lois found her way over to Dick, who was vigorously rubbing his shoulder, which had been stretched in a slightly odd way while he was trying to catch himself after the blast. "Where's Bruce?" Lois asked, concerned threaded in her voice.

"Calling 911" Dick said quickly.

"Maybe I should go help him." Clark said. There was an urgent edge in his voice. Lois looked at him as if he was crazy.

"Are you afraid he'll forget the number?"

Dick laughed.

"No, I just think maybe he might need my help, you know, remembering the address and all."

"What, the police aren't going to notice the parking deck that the flames are leaping out of it. Not to mention that there is a gigantic globe on top of this building."

"Ah," Dick interjected, "I think that help is hear."

Lois and Clark pivoted to see the Dark Knight looking over them. "Batman!" they gasped simultaneously, with totally different tones in there voice. To say Lois was shocked and Clark was relieved would be an understatement.

"Are you all alright?" Batman asked seriously.

"Fine," Lois said nervously.

"You don't look fine." Batman noticed.

"We're all a little shaken," Clark said quickly, "but fine."

"The police are on their way, they're going to want to take Clark into protective custody." Batman said seriously.

"Well that's good. If the police take him these religious nuts won't be able to get him, right?" Lois asked nervously. She was not totally sure what to do with Batman around. He had an entirely different feel about him than Superman. Far more imposing and less safe.

"I don't know." Batman turned his piercing gaze to Clark. "Will the MPD be able to protect you?"

Clark looked at his friend with pure frustration. Frustration that he had needed to drag Batman and Robin into this. He was frustrated that Lois was unsure of Superman and pushing away from Clark. He was frustrated that his car was just blown to high heaven. "NO, I won't be safe there, I won't be safe at home, I won't be safe in my car, if I still had one, I won't be safe at work! Maybe I should just skip town or something!"

"You don't want to do that."

"Why not?" He had a frightening thread of defeat in his voice. Dick had heard Bruce talk that way before, when the opposition looked hopeless. Batman had defeated the frustration, and he was sure that Superman would to. All he needed to do was step away from the immediate position he was in and look at the bigger picture, at everything in perspective.

"What would happen to Metropolis if you left?" Clark didn't respond to that. Lois was to distraught about the appearance of Batman and the noticeable lack of Superman to realize the significance of what had just been said.

Clark bowed his head in submission. "What do you suggest?"

"Is there anywhere in the city that you could hide that would not be obvious."

"My apartment." Lois suggested.

"No, I suspect they have it watched. As well as the Drake hotel and all exits from this building."

"What are we supposed to do, then?" Lois said tensely. The situation was entirely out of her control, she hated that.

"Where can you go that you'll be safe?"

"You seemed to have excluded all options," Lois said cynically, Batman ignored her.

"Where do you have friends?"

A light seamed to go on behind Clark's eyes. "The Metropolis Naturel History Museum." He said out of nowhere. "The Curator gave me a key so I could get into the building and do some research. They'll never suspect it."

"There's a Kriptonite exhibit there." Dick said cautiously. All three adults looked at him as if he were a freak of nature.

"How do you know that?" Clark asked

"What does that have to do with anything?" Lois inquired right on his heals.

"I know because you did a story on it last month, and if Superman was needed . . ."

"That won't be a problem." Clark insisted energetically. "The room was built so that the Kripton rays would be contained. Superman would have it be in the room for anything to happen."

"If you're certain it's the best hiding place . . . "

"Positive."

"Then come with me." His voice seemed to become a little louder. "Robin will join us as soon as he can."

Again Lois was confused, but everyone else seamed to know what was going on, so she tried not to show it.

When Robin finally reached the Metopolis museum of naturel history It was almost midnight. He had been delayed by the police and had given at least three statements about how the garage had exploded, and then a doctor had looked him over, despite the fact that he insisted he was fine. Then he had to wait until Lois was done, and she insisted on finding Bruce before she left. It took all of Dick's ingenuity to convince her that he had gone home because he had a speech to write. She looked at him like he was crazy, but it then occurred to her that Bruce was Clark's friend, maybe all guys were like that, and she had never noticed because she had never been as close to a guy as she was with Clark before. Dick insisted on seeing her home; he felt it was his obligation. She thought it was cute that he wanted to be a knight in shining armor, so she let him. All in all, it was very frustrating to be treated like a kid. At least Batman recognized that he was mature enough to take care of himself on the city. Lois felt that she needed to repeat the rules for crossing the street every time the opportunity came up. It was frustrating to say the least.

Once in the Museum, Dick realized that he had no idea where he was going. The only time he had been to the place was while he was still with the circus. His parents had brought him to see the dinosaur bones and for three consistent weeks he had nightmares about being eaten by a dinosaur. Consequently, he had never gone back. He wandered through the American Indian exhibit, and then he passed by the geology section and saw the Kriptonite exhibit. It was basically a research room with a window people could look through to see the scientist bumble around doing something, even in the utter dark of the empty museum. The rocks gave off an eerie green glow. They seamed inherently evil to Robin as he examined them through the glass.

He moved on to the basement for no reason at all. He just had a feeling that Batman would be more likely to go down, rather than up. Much to his distress he heard some muffled yelps at the bottom of the stairs. He crept down casually and discovered two security guards bound and gaged at the foot of the stairs. To the best of his knowledge Batman didn't do that sort of thing, neither did Superman. "Damn," he said under his breath. Now it was doubly important that he find Batman and Clark; he might already be to late. He was carful to stay in the shadows in case anyone was around. Finally as he was sneaking around in a Children's 'hand's on' exhibit he heard familiar voices coming from a room or two away.

"What. . . what if Superman came and . . . flew me away."

"There's no need to be cryptic," Batman said defeenceivly, "and besides people would start wondering about Clark. Besides, all the good you do when you're Clark would go undone."

"I can't run forever."

"Now that we have a suspect I can do some investigation. Hopefully by this time tomorrow you'll be safe."

At this point Dick walked in. The room that Batman had chosen was wonderful. It was a cafeteria, with all the tables folded up on one side. It would be impossible to be ambushed in that room, and there were echos everywhere, so that the smallest sound could be heard. He decided that it would be better to loudly proclaim his entrance then wait for them to hear him. He knew they were on their guard and could beat him up before they realized who he was. "Hi, guys" he said as he opened the door. Both men pivoted and were in fighting stance so Robin through his hands up defensively. "Hey, I come in peace."

Batman and Clark relaxed. "Did Lois get home safely?" Clark asked immediately.

"Yes, but there are some security guards over by the stairwell that won't." Robin could see Batman tense up. "I saw them on my way down here, they were bound and gaged. I didn't see anyone else, but it's a safe bet that whoever's out there knows that Clark's here, and is trying to get him."

"How on earth do they keep finding me!" Clark exclaimed, but no one knew the answer.

"They've caught us quicker than I thought they would." Batman mumbled, "Robin, stay here with Clark and keep an eye out."

"I really think it's time for Superman." Clark offered. Batman didn't even acknowledged the comment.

"I'm going to go out and try to find them before they find you. Keep in touch."

"Will do, Batman." Robin said with a little salute to go along with it. And in a flash he was gone.

"Well, now what?" Clark asked looking into the shadows of in the corners, hoping that he only thought he saw movement.

"We wait."

"I'm afraid I'm not the most patient of men. Not now at least."

"Don't worry. Batman will just pass through the building once and he should find all the bad guys. Then you'll be free as a bird, or a plane, or..."

"Stop, I catch your drift." Clark said tersely.

"My, you are crabby."

"I'm sorry it's just that I'm . . . scared."

Dick had never expected Superman to say that. "Why, you're invincible."

"My life would collapse if my secret got out. It would be worse than dying because I would still be around to see all the horrible affects. When I'm Clark people will treat me like I'm special because of Superman. And when I'm Superman people won't respect me because I'm only Clark Kent. My life is by no means perfect, but at least now I have one."

At this point Robin looked thoughtfully at the ground and discovered something most disturbing. I see you scrawled on a misplaced napkin. "Clark, we need to get out of here."

"Why?"

"They're in here too. We gotta go." But it was too late. Even as he said the words figures emerged from hidden doorways and air vents in the ceiling. In the end there were about fifty people in the room. And all the men had guns.

"Go boy. We have no grievance with you." One of the older men said. He had a rich and powerful voice, and a tone that was used to command.

"That's to bad, because I have a grievance with you. What do you think you're doing, trying to kill a close personal friend of Superman's?"

"Who is Superman next to God? Because of this man a child baptized in the one true church was given to a devil in disguise. He has sinned against God, and must therefore die."

"I returned a baby to it's mother!" Clark yelled. He could probably take out about a third of them at once, but that would leave Robin with 33 people. Not a good plan, plus then they would know who he was for certain. The very fact that they had guns but hadn't stolen any Kriptonite was a good sign. "Your being unreasonable."

"Shut up dog!" The man said with such venom that Clark was silent. "We have discussed the matter and it was decided that you will be executed for your crimes. As you know, we have tried before and failed. But now we have means of victory in our hand's. Neither Batman, nor Superman, nor luck will avail you. You are ours."

"Not for long we're not." Robin muttered under his breath. And then he charged into the group of people so quickly that no one could react. Before Clark new it he was involved in a viscious fist fight, and every man and woman in the place seamed to be attacking him. There were random punches, and claws to the face. He wasn't hurt, but that didn't matter, because there were far too many people to get away from.

Finally after what seamed an eternity of heat and pressure the clear voice of the leader called out. "Stop!" It reverberated through the hall and as if by magic everyone was instantly calmed. Everyone except Clark, who fell to the floor, panting. The leader walked toward Clark and the crowed parted like the red sea before Moses. "Look what an unholy thing you have done." He said coldly. Behind him two buff men, who looked rather beat up themselves, and were followed by even more beat up men, who carried the limp and battered body of the Boy Wonder. "You have caused yet another child to suffer."

The logical reasoning in this was faulty in so many ways that Clark didn't have time to explore them all. He merely spit out, "You're the ones who are unholy. You're the ones who want to take children away from their parents, and who are willing to hurt anyone as long as it's in your best interest. You're the ones set on murder. Not me."

"Dog!" The leader screamed again. "How dare you spin your lies and deface the people of God in my presence?! For this you will pay, if only there were a punishment that is greater than that which we can give you."

Clark's palms began to sweat. "What are you planing to do?"

"We will kill you, in as painful a way as we can conceive. And we will do it where there will be no chance of rescue."

Clark wasn't sure what the man intended, but he had a pretty good guess, and it chilled him to the bone.

Batman heard all the commotion from his two way radio with Robin. He heard the fight and then all of a sudden the radio went dead. Never the less it didn't take him long to realize that both Dick and Clark were in serious trouble.

He hurried back to the cafeteria, but by the time he got there they had left. But there was a note scrawled on a napkin. A bird in the hand is worth two Bats in a bush. They had Robin and they would have no qualms about hurting him if it suited their purpose. They had insurance against Batman. Now all they needed was insurance against Superman. The most logical place for the Cult members to go was the Kriptonite room. Batman needed to work out a plan, and fast.

"It was all your fault." One of the gruff voices said.

"My fault. I merely suggested it. Timothy actually went out and bought the beer."

"I didn't want to," a voice that must have been Timothy's insisted. "You guys made me."

"Shut up all of you." A fourth voice said. "We all did it together. We all pay together. I don't think you guys realize how lucky we are."

"We aren't allowed to participate in the punishment of God's enemy. We are outcast and will be held in lower regard come the day of judgement!"

"We will be held on lesser charges when the D.A. finally charges the lot of us for the murder of Clark Kent."

"God would not let that happen." Thomas said defensively.

"I thought God wouldn't let that baby go back to her mother, but he did."

"What exactly are you saying?" The first voice asked.

"Nothing, not a thing. Just thinking."

"Why," Tomas sounded genuinely puzzled. "We are told what to do. It is our job to obey, not to question."

"You should try obeying the law some time." A dark voice from the shadows said menacingly. "That way you won't have a Day of Judgment." From the shadows Batman emerged, real as life. The first three boys jumped to there feet, ready for a fight. They had foolishly left their guns across the room, out of reach. But three against one seemed like good odds. They charged and before anyone knew what had happened they found themselves landing hard on the floor or against the wall. None of the boys wanted to go at the Batman again. Batman turned back to the fourth boy and to his terror discovered that not only had the fourth boy not misplaced his gun, but was aiming it directly at the unconscious Robin's head. "Put the gun down." He said with the most authoritative and detached tone he could muster.

"Look, I like this less than you do! But I can't take any chances! What if they kick me out!"

"You don't have to be afraid of them. You know what's right."

"What if they're right? I could . . ."

"You know what's right." Batman said again, this time a little kinder.

"I don't know anything."

"You know that if you pull the trigger you'll be a murderer. You know that will put you in jail for a long, long time."

"But God . . . "

"What kind of God would want you to kill an innocent, helpless person?"

The Boy faltered, torn by inner turmoil he looked desperately for help among his friends who where to afraid to move. There was no hope of obtaining moral support from them. But when his attention shifted from Batman to the boys cowering against the wall, the Dark Knight saw his chance. In the blink of an eye a Batarang shot out of his hand and knocked the gun away from the distressed youth. The boy was so scared that he didn't dive for it or even move his hand. "What's gonna happen?" The boy said, his voice trembling.

"That's up to the judge to decide." The boy looked down, as if Batman had just slammed him in a jail cell. "But, I'll see that a good word is put in for you."

A ray of hope emerged on the boy's face. For the first time in his life he experienced mercy.

Clark wasn't nearly so lucky. Even if Batman had been able to partially reform one of the boys and free Robin, they did their job well enough. He was distracted long enough for them to take Clark to the Kriptonite room. "You see, Dog," The leader had taken to calling him dog, as a way of de-humanizing him to the cult followers, and a continual insult. "If we kill you in this room Superman won't be able to come and save you. What do you think of that?"

"I think that you're all totally nut's!" he said coldly, but the Leader only laughed.

The door to the exhibit was in sight and Clark could feel the beginning of those beams seep through the wall's and attack him. He had to run, it was now or never. Moving as quickly as he could without causing to much suspicion, he pushed his guards off him, into other people. There was a second of confusion, he used that second to bolt down the hall, again, not to fast, but he had a feeling that no one would catch him. He was almost around the curb when a single green rock hit him square between the shoulder blades. Bolts of pain and nausea surged through his body and he collapsed. Somehow someone had managed to get some Kriptonite and threw it at him. He tried to get to his feet, but the Kriptonite was to close to him. So he tried to crawl away. By this time the cult members had caught up to him, and surrounding him. A lot of them had a piece of Kriptonite in their hands ready to throw at him if he should try to run again.

"Dog! You see that once God calls upon his people to do his holy work, it will be done." He turned to the two men who had guarded him before. "Take him into the room so that justice can be done."

"It's not justice." Clark muttered as he was pulled forcefully to his feet. "It's vengeance."

"Dog," was all the Leader had to say about that, then he slapped Clark and drew blood. Very satisfied with himself and with what he had done, the leader paraded into the Kriptonite room, followed by a chosen few to proceed with the execution. Once in the room Clark had no strength. They dropped him on the floor and with all the muscle he could muster, he managed to stay on his hands and knees for a few seconds. But the men whom the leader had brought in with him were strong, and with only a few kicks Clark was lying on the floor, helpless as a newborn. "You see, Dog, your crimes against God will not go unpunished," The leader gloated as he removed a vicious looking knife from the folds of his jacket. But he didn't see what Clark saw. A shadow that seemed to get bigger and bigger, out beyond the glass windows. It seemed to Clark that the shadow took forever to get to the window and crash through it. In fact it happened in a split second. Batman pounced on the leader, sending him to the floor and the knife sliding across the room. Then he turned to the four executioners. They looked at each other and decided that it was their religious duty to kill Batman. That didn't go very well for them. Within seconds he had them each running for their lives, and their leader following in hot pursuit. All the people who had come to the museum hoping to see righteous justice done, left hoping that justice would not turn her head and look at them.

Batman quickly walked over to Clark, who was not moving. "Are you all right?"

No response, but there was a pulse and there was breathing. "You're gonna be fine." Batman told his unconscious comrade as he lifted him up over his shoulders and carried him out of the room.

Clark woke up with a cold compress on his forehead and a discussion in the background.

"But I don't understand why he shouldn't go to a hospital," Lois asked. Clark got the sense that she was very scared.

"He won't be safe there," Batman's voice was hard as stone. Clark had no doubt that he would win the argument.

"You said that he wouldn't be safe here either."

"The situation has changed." There was a note of finality in his voice. Lois could make no more arguments. Nevertheless he found it appropriate to add, "He'd get better treatment here anyway."

Clark didn't hear Batman leave, but he did hear Lois walk back to where he was, and sit down next to him. "I don't know why," she grumbled. "I'm not a nurse maid. I'll probably make him feel worse."

"No," Clark said. His voice was scratchy and soft. Lois was so surprised that she gasped, "I feel better already."

"Clark..." She didn't know what to say. She had known she was unprepared, but she hadn't known just how unprepared she was until the rubber hit the road. "Clark, . . . do you . . . need anything?" She asked nervously.

He couldn't think of a thing. He was lying on the couch of the woman he loved, and she was doting over him. Almost paradise, only he felt as if someone had put his insides into an eggbeater. "No, I'm fine."

"Clark, you look like hell, not to mention that Batman just carried you in here and dropped you on my couch." Not exactly what Clark wanted to here. "Does it hurt much?" she asked in a much more sympathetic tone.

He opened his eyes and the light from a nearby window assaulted him. It was morning; how had that happened? "Yes," he groaned. "I've never felt worse."

She jumped up, "I could get you some Aspirin." He opened his mouth, but before he could form the words she said, "It doesn't do anything for you." Her disappointment was evident in her voice, she really wanted to help him.

"If you're not busy," he started. She looked at him like he was crazy; he was dying on her couch, the most important, best, person in her life was dying on her couch, and he was worried that she might be busy.

"No, Clark, I'm not busy," she said, as if he were a silly little child who asked her if she was going out on a date.

Clark was pushing his advantage, he was in a position that he had never been in before and, he hoped, he would never be in again. "Could you make me a cup of tea?"

Lois took in a big breath, "Yes" she said tensely, as if she doubted the quality of her answer. "Tea, I can do"

Lois ran into the kitchen and ran around filling her teapot and digging for tea bags as quickly as she could. She had been helpless and powerless the entire night. Finally there was something she could do. As the water boiled she went out to ask Clark, "Do you want sugar, or lemon, or honey, or milk, or artificial sweetener, or . . ." but once she got into the living room she saw that he was sound asleep. He was pale, and he had a black eye and split lip; but under the surface pain, Lois thought he looked almost happy. "Oh, Clark," she sighed. Then she walked up to him and sat next to him on the couch. She took off his glasses and pushed the hair out of his eyes to kiss his forehead. As she pulled away from that innocent intimacy, she had a very odd feeling that Clark looked like someone else she knew.

Dick sat propped up on his bed, looking up all sorts of things on his laptop computer because Bruce wouldn't let him get out of bed. At least he had a two way radio directly linked to Batman's cowl. Even as Batman was roaming the streets looking for Clark's assaulters, Dick was doing research and cross-referencing materials.

"I found three stories in Metropolis that sell those particular knives," Dick said over the intercom. "I was also able to get the police reports listing all the known Cult members."

"How did you manage that?"

"A little hacking and a lot of luck. Anyway, their church is located at on the south side, at 12233 West Thirty-second Street. If you go down there be very careful, the knife store is owned by one of the cult member. They have lots of them. Not to mention that the place also sells guns; if I remember correctly, they were well armed at the museum."

"But they didn't use their guns," Batman noted.

"They didn't need to, but they might not be of the same opinion when it comes to you."

"Suggestions?"

"Nothing comes to mind."

"How about Superman?"

"I could call Lois Lane, see if Clark feels up to snuff."

"I don't want to make him feel as if he is obligated. If the Kriptonite poisoning hasn't worn off yet, I certainly don't want him to put himself in danger."

"Which reminds me, they didn't take any Kriptonite with them."

"And you found that . . ."

"It was on the news." He changed his voice to sound like Summer Gleson. "The Metropolis Museum was missing no inventory after a mysterious break-in. As of yet, no reason for the break-in has been found."

Batman laughed, "I'm going to stake out their church, wait until I can figure out when the best time to strike is."

"Do you want me to see what's up with Clark?"

"That might be a good idea. I have a feeling that Superman will want to be in on this bust."

"Gotcha, over and out." The radio went dead.

Dick delicately put his computer to the side and leaned over to reach the telephone. His body still ached from the beating he had received last night, and whenever he moved quickly his head started to swim. Thankfully there wasn't a mirror in the room, because if there had been, Dick would have been forced to see just how mangled he was. That wasn't anything he wanted to ponder at the moment. HE quickly dialed the number for Lois Lane's apartment and waited for the phone to ring.

Lois was in the shower, Clark could hear her singing and she was very out of tune. That didn't matter one bit. She had been so sweet to him. After he had woken up, around noon, she had tried to make him breakfast, which was a miserable failure. But that didn't bother him in the least. She had practically chained him to the couch insisting that he shouldn't stress himself. She had made him tea, juice, chicken broth (which with the help of bunion cubes turned out rather well), and kept a cool compress on his head. "You don't need to baby me," Clark had insisted.

"I know, but I want to," was her answer. Then she gave him a wonderful, playful, mischievous, and loving smile. That's what he was thinking about when the phone rang.

He walked over to the answering machine, Lois would have been furious if she found out he had gotten off the couch, and listened.

There was the familiar beginning, "Hi, this is Lois, I'm busy, leave a message." And then a pause. "Hi," the voice on the other side said. "This is Dick Grayson, and I'm looking for Clark, so if you see him tell him he should get in touch with us ASAP. Thanks, bye." The line went dead.

"Clark!" Lois screeched. He had been distracted by the phone and not noticed when the singing stopped. She stood before him in her bathrobe with a towel wrapped around her head. "Get back on the couch!"

"Lois!" He was obviously surprised and embarrassed, "I . . . ah . . . feel much better."

She looked at him skeptically. "You do look better," she admitted. "But last night, well I thought it would take you much longer to heal than that."

"I've always been a quick healer." He said dismissively.

"Yeah, I guess." She couldn't think of any time when he had gotten hurt and hadn't been better in less than twenty-four hours. Maybe she had just been so shaken up last night that she had thought he was worse off than he really was.

"If it makes you feel any better, I'll go home, rest all day and then you can come over tonight and assess my level of health."

She looked at him skeptically, "Why not just stay here?"

"For starters, I don't have any clothes here." That was a good point. He was wearing the same suit that he had worn yesterday, only now it was sweety and torn in some places and stained with blood. Not to mention it couldn't have been comfortable to sleep in. Whenever Lois feel ill, she wanted to lie around the house in the most comfortable clothes she had, not some dirty work outfit. "And I can cook my own food." That was a little insulting, but true. Clark was a much better chef than she, and he probably would be able to make better healthier meals, with less hassle. "And you can go to work and write up a great story about the whole affair." Another good point. Ever seance the elevator incident, Lois had wanted to write an exclusive on the whole thing but hadn't gotten the chance. She didn't want to start it with Clark around; she thought it might reflect her as cold blooded. There he is, dying on her couch, and all she could think about was getting the scoop.

"Fine, let me get dressed and I'll take you home."

Dick's phone rang, and woke him with a start. His head was bouncing and he felt sick to his stomach, so when he answered "Hello?" it sounded more like a groan than a greeting.

"Hello? Dick is that you?"

"Clark!" That woke him up.

"Are you Ok? Last time I saw you you were . . . "

"Fine, I'm fine. How are you doing?"

"Ok, I guess."

"You guess?"

"Yeah, I feel fine, but I haven't tried to do anything super yet. I've been with Lois all day."

"Well, why don't you fly around the room, or look through a wall real quick, just to see of you're normal."

"Hold on." Clark put down the phone and took a deep breath. With the tiniest bitt of effort he found himself suspended a good foot of the ground. "Dick, I'm back."

"Figuratively or literally?"

"Both."

"All right!" Dick exclaimed. "Batman's staking out the church, I assume you know where it is?"

"Yes."

"In that case, meet him down there as soon as you're ready. I'll call him and tell him you're on you way."

"That sounds like a plan."

Superman didn't meet Batman until dusk. He quietly flew in behind where the dark Knight was sitting, looking through binoculars, and was about to greet him, but he was beat to the punch. "I'm glad your felling better."

"Did you hear me?" Superman was utterly baffled.

"No, But you have an unusual air flow around you when you fly."

"I've never noticed that."

"I'm not surprised." His tone became more serious. " Did Robin tell you the statice?"

"No, only that you were staking out the place."

"So far no ones entered the building all day. Around three a guy walked out, and he hasn't come back yet. I have reason to believe that the leader and several of the other upper level cult members are in the building. I think there trying to put a spin on what happened last night. Explain why their God let you get away."

"Do you think they plan to strike again?"

"It doesn't matter, we're going to get rid of them tonight."

"What's the plan?"

Batman turned around for the first time. He had a slightly disturbing smile on his face. "This is your city. Do your thing." Superman looked at him nervously. As Batman suspected the incident last night had not so much damaged his super abilities, as his ego. The cult members had hurt him, and that set up a subconscious fear of them in his mind. The only way to get rid of that fear was to have Superman go in and catch them himself. With no help.

"Uh," Superman hesitated. "You did a lot of work on this case with me, you should come too."

"Your city, your life, your bust." Superman was still hesitant. "They don't have any Kryptonite. They left it all at the museum, besides they don't expect an attack." Still Superman was just floating, looking at the place warily. "They are murderers who need to be brought to justice." Batman reminded him, calmly.

"I know."

"Than what are you afraid of?"

Superman looked at his friend with an uncomfortable gaze. "I never said I was afraid."

"There is nothing in there for you to fear. They didn't take any Kryponite and they haven't got a clue who you are."

"The only thing to fear..." Superman mumbled.

"Is fear itself." Batman finished the quote and was pleased to see a bright new fire ignite in Superman's eyes. He was going to do fine.

"Let us review on last time the divine inspiration that was granted us by God concerning the Dog." The high priest said in a monotone.

"Yes, oh highest of divine priests." The twelve men who were the elders of the church said in unison. Superman had meant to dissolve the group as soon as he reached their meeting place, but his curiosity got the better of him; he wanted to know just what sort of spin they were going to put on last night.

"We did everything in a holy and just manner, as to please God." They did everything right. "And the Dog was most worthy and deserving of being sacrificed." They were supposed to kill Clark. "But," ah, who's the scape goat? Robin, Batman, those darn Security guards, or one of there own? "There was one among us with imperfect faith and a rebellious heart. The self same boy who lead our youths to pollute their bodies with un-pure substances, has again brought shame upon us and deemed the sacrifice unacceptable. This Boy..." He pointed to a young man kneeling in a dark corner, with his head down and what looked like blood on his clothes. A boy, a pore confused child who probably saw how stupid the whole group was, was their scape goat. "Displeased God, and because of his sins the sacrifice could not be carried out." Superman knew it was time to make his move.

"I'll have you know that it was not the boy's fault," the man of steel said as he emerged from the shadows. "But Batman is grateful for his aid."

"You!" The high priest shouted, but he didn't dare to do more.

"Yes, you've evaded justice long enough. It's time to give up."

"What do you know about justice?" The high priest hissed. "Only the laws of misguided sinful men. We have the law of God on our side. That of divine inspiration," His tone grew darker, "and divine retribution."

"May I ask what kind of god commands his followers to put themselves in personal jeopardy?"

"All gods ask that."

Ok, maybe he had a point there, but that wasn't going to get Superman down. "Do all god's demand the punishment of innocents?"

"Clark Kent was not innocent."

The 'reason with them and get them to see it your way' tactic wasn't working, they were too far gone for any logic or real emotion to penetrate them. "Well I guess you'll just have to pray that the Judge finds you innocent when you appear in court for attempted murder."

"I hate, hate, hate, hate, crutches." Dick said irritably as he tried to work his way through Metropolises busseling grand central station. With little to no success.

"Calm down Dick." Bruce said good natuerdly. "Soon we'll be home and you can lie in bed all day, no walking required."

"Right," The young man mumbled. "That's what I want to do. Sit in bed while all my friends go to football games and flirt with Barbra."

"You really have a thing for her don't you?"

"Well . . ." Dick was spared having to answer that question by Clark running up to them suddenly.

"Good," He panted, "you haven't left yet."

"No," Bruce was obviously a little surprised. "What are you doing hear, and why are you out of breath?"

"I ran from the Planet. It's a lot farther away than it seems."

"It's twelve miles away, on the other side of town." To poor Dick, who couldn't use his legs in any practical manner, it seemed like an impossible distance.

"Lois told me that you were leaving and I wanted to say goodby, and thanks."

"How did Lois know?" Dick wandered allowed, but his comment was ignored.

"You're welcome," Bruce said lightly. "It was a pleasure to work with you. We should do stuff like this more often."

An uncomfortable expression spread across Clark's face. "Not just like this, I hope."

"No," Bruce laughed. "Next time I'll get the death threats."