The Ends
AFTER
Gotham
I think this is the first time the air in Gotham has tasted clean. The wind is light but cold and there is a dusting of snow falling from the grey sky. They are standing only a few feet away from me. His arm is around her waist as he presses into her back. Whether it is to keep her from the chill or to anchor him I am not sure. Déjà vu sets in again, once too often for my liking. The end is over, now comes the hard part…
I can feel him press into me, the uneven ground causing him problems. He will say it is to keep me warm but I know and I will say nothing. I like him there. The snow is starting to come down harder now, blanketing the world in clean white dust. This feels like the end. I really hope it is. Familiarity strikes at me again. It has happened so many times over the past year. It is unnerving. I should be looking forward, ahead to what is to come but I find myself glancing behind, back to the beginning of the end…
BEFORE
New York
I was scrambling around in my bedroom, rushing as to not be late. "Mom, where is my blazer? Mom!" I was irritated that she didn't answer me. Stomping down the hall of our spacious Manhattan apartment I stopped behind the sofa with my hands on my hips to give her a piece of my spoiled little mind. Mom and Dad sat together, my younger brother Jackson sat on the floor in front of them and my older sister Kennedy stood close to where I was behind the sofa. All of them staring transfixed to the television. The news played the same clip over and over again as a red bar streamed across the bottom of the screen stating it was a scene from Metropolis only an hour ago. The camera though shaky is raised to the sky as Superman hovers between two buildings above a traffic crammed street. He seems to be having problems maintaining flight as he dips and rises several times before crashing into the top of a cab far below. The camera then shakes so badly that nothing can be seen but distorted colors until it comes to focus again fairly close to the fallen hero. His eyes are open and glazed looking off somewhere that we the viewers cannot follow. Blood drips from his eyes, ears, nose, and mouth. He is dead. I don't believe it at first. He is the strongest person in the entire world. He can't just fall out of the sky and die. The news anchors are discussing the footage and state that yes in fact Superman is dead. The city of Metropolis is in chaos. There was no battle, no threat but the citizens in their panic have created a chaotic scene that if not put in check will escalate into riots.
"Dad what happened, was he sick or hurt?" Jackson asks.
'I don't know kiddo, I really don't know." My Dad answers quietly.
My Dad is a doctor, well a podiatrist so if it was a recognizable illness he would know, right? Mom is a dentist, she would know to if Superman was sick with some kind of disease, at least I think she would. Mom stands and puts on her face. You know the one that Moms use to cover up what is really going on.
"Alright you guys, times a wasting you have to get to school."
None of us argue. I find my school uniform blazer hanging over my chair at the kitchen table and shrug into it. It's still cool outside, spring hasn't really come yet. I grab the lunch with Spencer written on it and tuck it into my back pack. I move like I do every morning but today is different. There is a feeling. What is it called? Déjà vu, it's strange and I don't like the way it sits heavy in my guts.
In the parking garage of our building Dad gives each of us a wave as he climbs into his car and heads to work. Kennedy, Jackson, and I climb into the minivan so Mom can drop us off at our schools before she heads into the office as well. It all seems so ordinary but today is anything but.
"Spencer Honda, what the hell girl, did you even look in a mirror this morning?" my friend Jasmine asks. I guess I look dumbfounded because she decided to tell me in detail what was wrong with me. "Your hair is a tangle of knots, your blouse is not tucked in and you didn't even put lip gloss on." Obviously my appearance is a travesty.
"I was a bit preoccupied Jaz with the whole Superman thing." I answer indifferently as I open my locker.
"Yeah that was freaky, you heard about The Flash right?" She asks in that I know some gossip that you don't tone.
"No." I cannot hold back the edge of concern in my voice.
She pulls out her phone and slides through it until she finds what she is looking for and holds it out for me to take. It is another news broadcast, this time from Central City. The footage is also amateur and it shows the red clad speedster lying at the base of a wall, eyes open, blood dripping from them and his other orifices. It appears as if he ran headlong into the brick building and died instantly. I know that fear is an appropriate reaction to such a thing but the twisting in my stomach almost makes me want to be sick.
"Hey, whoa, you ok Spence?" Jasmine asks throwing an arm over my shoulders and taking back her phone.
"Yeah, I am, it's just really crazy, ya know?"
"It is. I hope there aren't any riots. I mean no supers around to stop the crazies." Jasmine says looking off down the hall.
She's not wrong. The people with powers kept everything in check. I know the police do the same thing but it's just different. New York doesn't have its own personal hero like Metropolis or Central City or Gotham but The Justice League, The Teen Titans, and Nightwing have been here to defend us on more than one occasion and I am grateful for their help.
The rest of the day is normal. Well I mean it is normal in the sense that my school day has no unusual occurrences. The news about The Flash and Superman hang heavy over a lot, if not all of us. The fear of the unknown clings to my skin and sets jolts of anxiety running along my nervous system. I fear that there will be more bad news to come. I fear that there will just be more.
Gotham
I received the alert from the Justice League at six twenty-seven am. I was in Metropolis immediately. Diana, myself, and John Jones were the ones to remove Clark from the scene. Having to face Lois was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do but then in the same day I had to face Iris, both Clark and Barry gone. It was unbelievable. How? Both Lois and Iris said that they complained of feeling tired, feeling off. I was able to obtain a blood sample from both of my friends. I found something rather mundane. Influenza type C. That is a mild respiratory virus. The flu. Not something that should have infected let alone killed two of the strongest men alive. I went over the virus again and again. I came up with nothing.
"It's impossible."
"What is sir?" Alfred asks as he sets a tray of food and coffee down beside me.
"It's the flu Alfred, that's it, nothing more." How could something like that affect them so severely? I had more questions than I did answers.
The signal was up, it had been for awhile now. Here like in other cities the criminal element is taking full advantage of panic and unease. I turn on the com. "Nightwing, see what Gordon wants."
"On it." He replies immediately.
At that moment another message comes in from The League. Diana's face fills the screen in front of me and my heart skips a beat. Her eyes look red and irritated, dark circles mare the tender flesh beneath her lashes and a small trickle of blood runs from her nose.
"Bruce, are you alright?" She asks with a crack in her voice and a small cough she forces away.
"Jesus Diana, yes I'm fine. I'm on my way hang…"
"NO!" She interrupts. "Stay away! John is gone. I will not be in this life much longer. I have received word that Simon and Jessie, the lanterns have perished from this epidemic as well. Bruce call your son, The Titans have losses as well."
I run my hand roughly through my hair. Panic is working its way into my heart, my lungs, my mind. "Diana, I..."
"Bruce, the news people are calling it The Ends, ending their heroes. Figure it out Bruce. You have t coff coff."
The feed cuts out and I am mad with helplessness. I have holed myself up in the cave looking for answers but while I was here it spread like wild fire. The Ends. The Heroes. Only those with powers. I open a channel to The Teen Titans. "Titans, this is Batman, requesting a report." Nothing. The silence seems to stretch out forever. Seconds past but they feel like hours. "Titans, this is Batman, requesting a report, do you read. Titans!" Still silence. "Goddamit Damian answer me!"
"Father?"
Thank God. "Robin report."
"I, I am the only Titan remaining father, Koriand'r just succumbed to the illness." Damian's voice shook slightly but he tried to hide it.
"Home, now."
"But Father, Their bodies I must…" He couldn't finish
Fifteen, he was only fifteen, having to watch his entire team die and not be able to do anything about it. Damian's strength never ceased to amaze him. "I already have a biohaz crew on route. There is nothing more you can do. Come home." "And Robin, how are you feeling?"
"If you are asking if I feel the effects of the illness the answer is no I feel very well." His voice is strained and still shaky.
"Alright, before you leave take a few swab samples of common surfaces. I am trying to work this through but I am almost out of time." The boy nodded and closed the link. I have never been more relieved in my entire life and grief stricken at the same time.
Something struck me suddenly and I picked up my cell and quickly found the contact I was looking for. It rang several times but the call was answered.
"Bruce?"
"Oliver, are you ill?" There is no time for pleasantries.
"No I'm not, and apparently neither are you. No powers no Ends. Am I right?"
"I'm not positive but my answer for now is yes. Do you know where Arsenal is?"
Oliver sighs heavily. "Not one hundred percent. I think he's in New York."
I hesitate but, "And…"
"She's not well."
"Thank you Oliver." I hang up the phone shaking my head to rid it of the sense of Déjà vu and put it down only to pick it up again. I'm calling them all, calling all of them home.
New York
Dad brings home take out that apparently he had to fight his way through the crowds for and we all sit in front of the television. There are no regularly scheduled programs on tonight, only news. Every station we have. It's not just here. All over the world heroes are falling. The news reporters speculate that The Ends as they are now calling it started days ago. Bodies from the fabled land of Atlantis have washed ashore on the coasts of Scandinavian countries and heroes from Europe, Asia, and Australia have succumbed to the virus.
"Hiro, what is it, a new strain of influenza?" My mother asks looking to my father for answers.
"It seems that way at first glance doesn't it Lisa but it is far too specific in who it effects. If I had to make a guess I think it would be engineered to take down those possessing super powers." My Dad is far smarter then I give him credit for.
"Is it wrong that I feel slightly relieved by that?" She asks my Dad as she looks at my brother, sister, and me.
My Dad only smiles sadly at her. I get it. I was scared to that maybe I could get sick and die then I was scared that one of my family members would get sick and die. I don't want them to die, the heroes, I really don't. I feel guilty for feeling relieved just like my mother. The news drones on repeating the events of the day, reports of looting and riots from some cities are coming in. The NYPD are out in full force to prevent that from happening here but it doesn't stop the sound of glass breaking and the shrill scream of car alarms from going off sporadically out in the night of our neighborhood. Mom forces us to bed just after one am. I am tired but there is no way that I will be able to sleep anytime soon.
Gotham
Tim is rerunning tests on the blood samples I have from Clark and Barry. His friend Miguel also known as Bunker lies shivering. He is seriously ill and has volunteered to give samples or help us try and run this mystery down in any way. He has a fever of 104.6. It is getting dangerously high. Acetaminophen and Ibuprofen have not helped to bring it down. Even externally trying to lower his body temperature has failed. He is presenting influenza symptoms far more serious then type C should cause. Eventually the pressure in his lungs will be too much and he will drown in his own blood. Though I am being clinical, I am not heartless. I want to find answers before it is too late for this young man. I have set an I.V administering fluids and Amoxicillin. I do not believe the antibiotic will help as The Ends is a virus not bacterial but I try none the less. As his condition deteriorates I have a mild sedative I can give him to ease the pain and discomfort of his final moments. I still hope for answers.
Dick is contacting everyone he can. I mean that literally. Unfortunately his efforts are for very few results. He has made contact with Helena Bertenelli and she is healthy though on the other side of the globe at this moment. He also has established contact with Spyral, agent 1 to be more precise. The Tiger King of Kandahar with all of his resources has no more information than we do now. We have agreed to share anything we discover with him and he will return the favor.
Tim, Dick and I are home with Alfred. Damian is on his way as is Jason. Barbara has an open com, planning to stay close to her father. Cassandra is in Hong Kong and Stephanie has been keeping a low profile. I'm not sure if congregating in one location is a wise decision but I made it and feel a small amount of ease with it.
"Bruce." Tim calls from medical. He has left his tests and stands beside Miguel with his hands on his friends shoulder. The young man is struggling to breath and his eyes are tinted red from the blood pooling in their corners. I quickly inject the sedative I had prepared and his tense muscles relax. Tim stays unmoving until his friend's last ragged breath leaves him. Tim's head hangs and his eyes close, I do not interrupt. I leave the room. We can gather what samples we need shortly for now I give Tim a moment to mourn.
It is just shy of twenty four hours since Clark. It is estimated that the virus began its run two days ago. It has moved so fast that no one was prepared. Cities are panicking and threats of all out riots flood the news. Police have their hands full. Once Damian and Jason arrive we will have to be out there. We will have to try and keep order. We are few but we are all that is left. I hope that this is over, that we can start to pick up the pieces and find answers but Déjà vu pulls my stomach back into my spine and leaves a bitter taste on my tongue.