Title : Hold Out Your Hand
Disclaimer : Me no own, You no sue.
Note : Lyrics at the beginning and at the end are from the Nickelback song "Hold Out Your Hand."
Warnings
- Character death
- Gore
- Language
- Implied slash
- AU
-z-
All men with stars upon the chest
Save yourselves, your families,
Don't worry 'bout the rest
-
A scream from the other side of the world and, for the first time since before he could remember, Superman ignored a cry for help.
-
Superman can't help the vomit that erupts from his gut. As he wipes his mouth, he looks over the edge of the roof, willing and hoping and praying to Whoever was listening that it wasn't true.
It was, though.
Batman - Bruce fuckin' Wayne- was in a crumpled heap of blood and clothing, bones jutting awkwardly through hard muscle.
Superman turned away and began to dry heave on the bank's roof - there was nothing left in his stomach to throw up.
He thought he heard someone calling out to him. Robin, perhaps.
-
At the funeral the world had for Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent did not weep. Jason and Timothy - they were able to cry openly, their tear-filled faces buried deep into Dick's shoulders. They all mourned the loss of not only their guardian - but their one and only savior. Bruce had been the one person to take them in when the world had turned away, growing long, dark shadows with nameless faces and echoing laughter.
Gordon said that the Joker had killed himself in Arkham when he had heard the news. This elicited a bitter chuckle from Clark.
-
Sometimes, during the deepest sleep, Clark dreams of Bruce.
He dreams of parties and arguing good-naturedly over trivial things. He dreams of flying high in the sky, that muscled mass pressed against every inch of his own body. He dreams about all the things they never got to do.
Closing his eyes against the sun, Clark knows that Gotham - that the entire fuckin' world- just got a whole lot darker and he's still not sure how he's going to handle it. Or if he'll even be able to. He was breaking right now, breaking into a million different pieces and no one has the right tools to put him back to together again.
He was just so tired. His entire body ached from deep inside some place he couldn't reach. A part of his psyche had died with Batman and Bruce, and this was the result: a void that would never again be filled.
-
A scream from the other side of the world and, for the first time since before he could remember, Superman ignored a cry for help.
-
Too late for another direction
Always what we've got in store
Hurry back we've all been waiting
We can't take much anymore
Where are the days where brothers are brothers
A childless mother
Leave it except for one
-z-