A/N: So I just caught BvS yesterday, and despite its flaws, I found it to be such a wonderfully emotional and inspiring film. The final battle as well as the ending stood out for me, and were thus the inspiration for this fanfic. Before you read ahead…be warned that this fic contains pretty major spoilers as to what happened in the movie. So if you have not watched it yet and do not wish to be spoiled…turn away now and come back later :)

Ohyeah, I almost forgot.

DISCLAIMER: as always, I don't own anyone in the story. Just a little something I was thinking about after the movie :)

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Chapter Title: Promises

Summary for this chapter: He failed once. He won't fail again.

Ever since that day, Martha could not sleep well.

Sometimes, she would take out the scrapbook of photographs she had painstakingly compiled over the years. Sometimes, she would simply stare into the distance, lost in deep thought. Sometimes, she felt like crying but her eyes remained dry. She feared her tears were all but spent, and she had nothing left. And yet, life went on. Time continued ticking, the world continued to spin. As if everything was normal when it was not. As if everything was right, when everything was wrong.

It was in the early hours of a Thursday morning when she became aware of a knocking on the door. Mechanically, she rose from her seating place, grimacing as the movement agitated her cramped muscles. As she opened the door just a crack, she saw a man clad in a sleek black suit, complete with a black tie and polished black shoes.

"Martha," the man said.

Martha eyed the man suspiciously. Experience has taught her that men in suits spelt trouble - but there was something different about the man standing at her doorstep. There was something about his voice... something in his eyes, that made her hesitate in closing the door without saying a word. Somewhere in the distance, the geese were calling. Their voices echoed through sky, like drifting tendrils of dust in the Kansas air.

"Who are you?" She asked finally.

The man raised a hand to his face and rubbed his nose. "You may not know who I am, but..." He hesitated for a moment, closing his eyes. "'I'm a friend of your son. Superman."

The man noted as her body visibly stiffened.

"I'm afraid you are mistaken, good sir," she began, forcing a small smile on her face. "My son's name is Clark, not Sup-"

"Martha." The veiled emotions laden in the single word caused her to pause mid-sentence.

"You and I both know that your son... died... fighting Doomsday. To save a world that didn't believe in him."

She stared at him for a few seconds, as did he.

"I'm sorry for your loss."

Martha furrowed her eyebrows. This man was a stranger - and yet, he seemed so familiar. She could not shake off the strange feeling that she knew him, though she was sure she had never met him before in her life. Or had she?

"Who are you?" she asked quietly.

The man swallowed, shifting uncomfortably at his feet.

Martha suddenly realised she wasn't being a good host.

"Do you want to come in?" She asked, opening the door just a little bit wider.

"No, no. It's fine." The man waved his hand. "I just wanted to say... I'm sorry."

There was a heavy pause.

"I failed him."

If she was not suspicious of him before, she was now.

"What do you mean?" She asked. Part of her was curious for the answer, part of her was afraid of what she would hear.

"I never saw the goodness in him until it was too late."

The man swallowed, running a hand through his hair. The words seemed wrong in his throat. So... small. So insignificant. "I'm not here to reveal his identity, if that's your concern. I'm - "

"Then why are you here?" Her voice had taken on a hard edge to it. The average person would have taken it as a sign of hostility, but the man knew better.

"I didn't trust him. I was blinded by the possibility that he was a potential threat that I failed to recognise he too could be a force for good." The man sighed, lowering his hand. "He was a good man. A hero. A... Superman."

The silence hung between them like a thick fog. Martha stared at the man, looking into the deep brown eyes of his. As he raised his gaze to meet her own, she was taken aback by the haunted look in his eyes. She knew pain when she saw it.

"He was," she said softly. "He was."

The man nodded once. "His sacrifice won't be in vain. I promise."

Martha eyed the man, unsure of how she should respond. "Thank you," she said finally. She couldn't look at him, not anymore. Not with the tears brimming in her eyes. She wasn't sure when they came, and was surprised to find herself blinking them away. But she would not cry, not now. Not in front of a stranger, she would not.

"I have something for you." The man retrieved a white envelope from the folds of his blazer, handing it to Martha.

Martha received the envelope hesitantly. Inside, she felt the distinct edges of a card. There was something else - something small and round and hard.

"What is this?"

The man smiled. "Open it," he said simply.

Martha stared at the envelope for a few long seconds. Then, in one resolute movement, she tore open the envelope, retrieving the small card that sat snuggly within. She began to read.

"My mother's name was Martha too.

I'm sorry I didn't manage to protect your son.

But I won't fail again.

If ever you are in need... just activate this signal, and I will be there.

Just as he was always there for all of us."

Tipping the envelope, Martha allowed the small item concealed within to fall into the palm of her hand. She turned the device around in her hands curiously, her fingers rubbing against the red button that lay in its centre.

She took a double take.

Studying the button closely, she recognised the emblem of a bat imprinted on it - and there, in the middle of the emblem, lay the proud crest of the House of El.

She stopped short at the revelation. In the distance, the geese were calling once more. The sun was just rising above the horizon, the first hints of yellow peeking out into the sky. She waited for the man to speak once more but he did not. Then, as the full implications of the gift dawned upon her, she realized none needed to be.

But as she opened her mouth and raised her gaze to confront the man once more, she realised he was gone. All that was left were two footprints imprinted faintly in the swirling dust.

-fin-

so...thoughts? :)

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next up: Realisations

He never realised how wrong he was— until it was too late.