The shock broke when Dick screamed. Bruce wasted no time in hopping over the barrier separating the audience and performers. He knew without looking that all of them were dead and there was nothing he could do. However Dick was alive and needed someone now more than ever.
He had to carry the boy down. Covering his eyes against more of the grisly scene as they went backstage. The police were called as well as an ambulance. All the while Dick clutched onto him.
Bruce had to leave when Mr Haly popped his head in "GCPD," was all he said and it was all the warning Bruce needed.
"I'm going to go get your elephant. The police are coming in to ask you a couple of questions alright. Answer if you can but if you can't its alright." He hugged the boy one more time and ran to get Dick's toy.
Returning to the scene the GCPD had taken up most of the room. Dick sat with Mr Haly and answered what he could around his sobs. He was mid way explaining the fall when something red streaked in. The GCPD didn't blink twice at the new arrival as they were most likely used to seeing him by now. Bruce on the other hand unconsciously sank further into the shadows.
It was Kal in all his Kryptonian glory. Brandishing a cape and his house sigil, Kal had grown to resemble Jor more than Bruce thought he would. The black hair and alien blues sat comfortably on a chiselled face, and when Bruce looked lower he could only glower at the physique Kal sported. No doubt he hadn't had to work hard to get that body.
"I came as soon as I could. There was a fire down town and- hey, don't acrobats usually have a net underneath them?" His voice was out of place in grieving room. All warmth and smiles he crouched in front of Dick and held his hand out. "My name's Clark. It's nice to meet you. Do you want to tell me what happened?"
"You're Superman," Dick mumbled and looked over his shoulder as if to find Bruce.
During the years the boy had delighted in tormenting Bruce with updates on his hero, knowing full well that he didn't care for the man in the slightest. The fact he was trying to cheer himself up made Bruce's heart ache. He wished he could give Dick this alleviation and he would have if it were just the cops. Kal changed things.
"I am," He turned back to the officers "Do you want to catch me up?"
Gordon took the reigns and went over the night's tragedy. Almost to the end of his tale Dick finally found his voice again. "It's all my fault," He choked. It wasn't what Bruce thought he would hear and not what the cops needed too tonight.
Kal took his kneeling position again "How's that then?"
"There was a man," Dick looked to Mr Haly. The man was suspiciously quiet and turning an off colour as Dick went on "He came out of Mr Haly's tent and was upset because Mr Haly wasn't going to pay him. He said that the circus needed protection and that without it something bad would happen. He said something would happen and it has," Dick beseeched.
All attention went to Mr Haly after that. Dick's part done he had nothing more to do than sit there and wait. The questions ranged from who the man was and what he wanted to whether anyone else had seen him that night.
Bruce kept an eye on Kal throughout the whole proceeding. He looked harmless and sincere as he offered help to the GCPD and while Bruce didn't care for it Kal's presence was keeping Dick calm.
"You'll find him right?" he asked.
"I promise I will do everything I can to help you," Kal said before vanishing in a blur of red.
After Kal left the GCPD started clearing up. Gordon waited as his team filed out, and the why became clear when a woman strolled into the tent.
"A car will be coming to pick Mr Grayson up in three hours," She announced. "Make sure he has all of his belongings."
"Car?" Bruce asked. He didn't care about revealing himself now.
The woman nodded "To take him to an orphanage. Whilst the case is still open we will be needing Mr Grayson available and near by."
"You can't take him," Mr Haly protested.
"And why is that. All of his kin are in the ring. Besides this isn't really the right environment to be bringing up a child," She sniffed.
Mr Haly shot a quick look at Bruce "All of his kin aren't dead. There's him isn't there."
"And who exactly are you?" She looked like she wouldn't believe a word Bruce said anyway so he figured he may as well lie.
Especially when he looked at Dick. The boy had been sat through this latest revelation with muted horror. "I'm Bruce Loyd. Mary's younger brother.
"She smirked thinking she had him. "And if that's true then why wait until now to reveal yourself? Shouldn't you have given your statement to the police or even been out there with the rest of your family?"
"I sat out- tummy bug. I was watching in the stands when it happened," He shrugged. "I saw what everyone else did and figured the police didn't need another repeat of the hundreds of similar stories."
"Do you have any proof of relation?" The sour look her face took meant that Bruce's tale was somewhat believable.
"Not really but no one else does around here," He argued. "Look, all I know is that you're not taking my little brother away. This is our home."
Gordon stepped in "Regardless of that fact we do still need him on hand." He appealed to Mr Haly "Perhaps you could delay your stay a while?"
Mr Haly shook his head "Other than the funeral we don't want to stay here any longer than we have to. It's a bad omen for the other folk."
Gordon sucked his teeth "In that case the GCPD will enquire about hotels. See if we can get the two of you set up for a while. I'm sure you can arrange to meet back up when this is all finished?"
Bruce looked back at Haly who nodded then at Dick who pleaded silently with him. "You promise you won't take him away?"
Gordon shook his head even as the woman scoffed in disgust "As long as you're legal we can get the documentation at the court house to make you his guardian. He won't be taken awa-"
A phone rang in the midst of Gordon's reassurance. The woman took her cell out, holding a finger up. Bruce couldn't help feeling like the silver lining they had been given was being slowly taken away with every moment she listened to the caller.
He was proven right when she took Gordon aside and came in with a satisfied grin on her face.
"Change of plan. That was the Waynes, they saw what happened here and want to take the boy in for a while. We already have their files on record after the other Wayne case, which means they're coming to pick him up."
He knew. That was the only thing Bruce could think. Somehow, Kal had seen him and was coming to get him. Why else would they have an interest in Dick.
Any argument he had against this happening however, was fruitless since the woman strode out as soon as he found the words. Dick was crawling into his lap, tears threatening to fall again as he looked for comfort.
Bruce took them to collect their stuff. He wasn't letting them go with Jor. But they couldn't stay here either. They needed to move, and fast. Bruce made Dick sort through his things fast and outside, since going in would only upset him more. Once packed they did a final circuit of the circus. A goodbye tour to all of their friends.
"We're coming back," Bruce promised. "This is my home as much as it is yours."
"I know," Dick clutched onto his hand tighter "It just doesn't feel like it anymore."
He got them to the nearest mall before they were caught. Kal must have went on the hunt for them when he found out they had ran off. He was clad in his cape and tights as he landed in front of them, so bright in the alley behind the mall. No hint of recognition gleamed in his eyes as he held his hand out.
"Hand the boy over."
He felt Dick cling tight to his shoulders, shaking slightly from both everything that had happened, and not wanting to be separated. He clutched Dick briefly, telling him he wasn't letting go of him.
So he ran. It was stupid. He knew Kal could catch him in an instant, but he wasn't thinking straight himself and the only thought that came was to leg it.
True enough Kal appeared in his way every direction he went. In the end it seemed he didn't want to keep asking nicely and pried Dick away from him by force. One moment Bruce was sprinting up to the next alley and the next he was slamming into its wall empty handed.
The air went out of his lungs as his face scraped against the rough cement. He was bleeding, that much he did know. His chest was also stinging familiarly, something was broken, he recognised it from his many tumbles from the circus.
His ears were ringing, yet even through the noise he could hear Dick screaming. Until he wasn't. Some part of him told him that Kal had taken the boy. But right now all he could think was about his broken ribs.
He didn't know how long he lay there. It got dark at some point. He remembered feeling someone pass him by. Another, and his face got stomped in further as they stole anything valuable he had on him.
When he came around again it was because someone flung something on top of him. The passer-by was gone almost as soon as they came leaving Bruce still in pain but awake.
What had landed on top of him turned out to be a newspaper. When he saw the date at the top he nearly passed out again. He had been out for three days, and a lot had happened.
The first thing that caught his eye was the picture on the front. On it were the El's. Jor and Lara didn't look like they had aged a day. Kal was standing proud next to them with his hand firmly on Dick's shoulder. The boy was primp in a suit, his hair slicked back in a way Bruce had never seen it before. He looked awful. Not outwardly. But the boy had just lost his family. Bruce recognised that look in his eyes, having seen it in his own for years.
The headline read worse than the picture did. It turned out they had went one better, while Bruce was out of action, and, instead of just taking him in, they had adopted him.
"No." It seemed like the only thing he could say right then.
He couldn't believe he had let this happen. Let that pen touch paper. He was meant to protect Dick, not leave him to suffer at the El's hands. He should have took Dick before the GCPD even got there.
Not that it mattered now. They had him. Poor little Dick who was probably being herded into a limo for some reason or another. The last thing he had in this world, and he was gone. Some part of his mind tried to make light of the situation. Dick would never have to want for anything anymore. He would have wealthy and fame beyond anything the circus could give him.
He spat out the days old blood in his mouth, wiping his eyes from who knew what so he could see his surroundings. Seeing Dick had given him the boost he needed to get up. Or at least try. It took several attempts, and use of the wall next to him for hand holds to help him stand and put one foot in front of the other. He couldn't leave Dick with them. He couldn't let them keep ruining his life.
So he needed to get a phone. Or at least find out where he was. From experience he knew the people of Gotham wouldn't help him. So he needed to, either, steal or get to a payphone. Maybe pick pocket some loose change while he was at it. If only his hands weren't stinging. He didn't know how he did it, but eventually he found someone who could help him.
They drove him to Leslie's clinic, where the woman spent more time gushing and shouting at him than patching him up. Bruce gave the best explanation he could through swollen lips, and managed to stop her from calling Alfred.
Once he was patched up, he didn't want to outstay his welcome, or worse, be discovered, and said his goodbyes. He promised to call Alfred as he limped out.
He snagged another newspaper as he made his way to Wayne Enterprises. The whole article went through the specifics of what had happened. They painted the Waynes as a generous family. One trying to rekindle that family they had lost when Bruce was 'kidnapped' years ago.
It sent a string of hate to his heart as he looked at their smiling faces. They had no idea...
He ended up climbing, the hard way, to the top of Wayne Enterprises. It was familiar, his, and he had hidden a few things up here when he was a child at his father's work. His old bear was there. Left behind when he had overheard his mother threatening to take it away from him. Just because she thought he was 'too old' didn't mean he was. So he had told her it had went missing. Along with other things he had almost forgotten about. Some books, largely outdated snacks, and, most importantly, an old tent his father had given him. They had came up here to look at the stars one night. It turned out it was impossible to see them this far into the city so they had spent the night indoors playing hide and seek. The tent had been left on the roof, his father had said he would send someone to fetch it, it looked like he never had.
Just seeing all this brought back memories he had long repressed. His mother. Father. His life before all this. He ended up crying as the grief of losing not just one but two families caught up with him. He had finally been happy. Yet, once again, Gotham couldn't leave him be. He felt like he was being punished for something. What? He didn't know, and now Dick would have to share in his grief. Stuck in a house with people who couldn't possibly understand him.
His hate for the El's surfaced again. Kal had pushed him into a wall. Broke his ribs and bloodied his face. He was going to make sure he paid for that. As he huddled in the tiny tent, away from the cold smog of Gotham his brain seemed to switch itself on. Plans long buried, like the memories of his parents, came surfacing along with new ones. He was going to get his life back. He was going to make sure Dick was safe. Of that he was certain.
The next week was something of a recovery. His ribs and look overall meant he couldn't go long distances or inside most places. He knew from experience he needed to rest. But with no place to go, and not wanting to abandon Dick for the comfort of his tent at Haly's he had to find an alternative. People had started checking on Wayne Enterprises rooftop after Bruce had, accidentally, tripped their alarm.
After being chased out he had started sleeping in doorways. When he tired of that, he remembered the countless abandoned warehouses at the docks and tried to figure out which were just abandoned and which were mob ruled. That took three nights and two almost confrontations.
He eventually found one of his own Warehouses. W. E was emblazoned on the top, the inside quite well kept for something that had been abandoned for five years. He took the managers office for a bedroom. By the end of the week it looked like something a serial killer would live in rather than a recovering acrobat. He had pilfered each days newspapers as they came. He had a mural of faces plastered over the office wall, staring out at him as he paced his pain away to think.
So far, his plan to take down the El's had boiled down to two things. The first was that he wasn't the first to try. The second was that, no matter what he read, or remembered from his time with them, he couldn't find any weaknesses.
Gotham had changed since he had been there. Men and woman, more evil and twisted than he had ever imagined, now roamed the streets. Some of them had come close to twisting Superman to their will, however none had managed to kill him, or even harm him.
His conclusion from all this was that he needed to find a way to get that weakness.
The third week he stayed in Gotham he was well enough to pick pocket. Some money in his pocket meant he could feed himself lawfully, as well as buy some clothes that would allow him into the basic buildings he needed to survive, like the public rest room.
He was shopping for something to eat when he saw Superman again. The red cape stood out like a torch in a dark room. It streaked across the dark sky of mid morning Gotham, following the wail of sirens. He didn't know what he was thinking when he decided to follow them.
The scene he arrived at was a fire at a hospital. Superman was almost finished by the time he got there. The fire was out, leaving only smoke dwindling out the windows. Everyone in danger was safely outside, and before Bruce could blink he saw most of them be rushed back inside by a red blur.
What really had his attention was none of this. Instead, he watched as the police herded someone kicking and screaming into a white van. He was dressed like some kind of fly, complete with wings, and was yelling profanities to Superman.
Despite his odd attire, he seemed like someone Bruce might like to get to know. Not to mention he had gave Bruce an idea.
Back in his office he researched as much as he could about those villains he had breezed over in his catch up. He went to the library to use their computers. Reading up on their crimes and M.O. Some of them were quite boring, being first time serial offenders under the influence of the big crime syndicates. Others however, had Bruce looking into them for hours.
It took three days to come up with a plan from that. Another to hash out the small details. Then another to get over what he stumbled upon when he was looking through the paper that day.
Having been focused on looking at Dick and the more unsavoury people in Gotham he had looked over the rest of the paper. He wished he hadn't now.
Dick must have told them, somehow, that the man they pried him from was Bruce. He dug through the other papers he had to find only three similar articles, all of them asking whether the general public had seen him. It didn't look good to the Waynes that the articles had only started three days ago. They had starved off from looking for him for three weeks. He was both worried and wondering what they had been doing between then and now that meant they needed the media to help.
There was a picture of him from yesterday, alongside one of him at fifteen. Right now, there was no one in Gotham that wouldn't know he was back. This hurt his chances of keeping a low profile.
It dawned on him then that he couldn't continue like this. He didn't want to mar his image. His image was all that was left of his family's legacy. If he ended up getting arrested, or worse, killed, he didn't want to be remembered as a criminal. He couldn't do that to his parents. He also couldn't be labelled a criminal if his plan did work. If he managed to rid the world of the El's he didn't want to constantly be on the run, he couldn't do that to Dick.
There was only one thing for it. He needed a disguise.
He found one after a moment of inspiration. He had been trailing along the rich part of Gotham, thinking about seeing Dick but not wanting to be trapped in that manor. His hood was up, and even if it wasn't his face was so mottled with bruises it was hard to believe he was Bruce Wayne and not a homeless wandering man.
He ended up on his front as something going faster than the speed of sound flew past him. He growled as he regained his footing, glaring after Kal even if he was long gone.
That's it! He decided, if he was going to get his revenge he may as well start somewhere. He was going to steal Kal's suit. See how long it took him to find another one.
It was a stupid bit of petty revenge. Much different to the wide expansive plan he had going on. It was almost like the time Kal got his strength in the middle of a play fight. Well, Bruce had been fighting him for real, Kal was laughing the whole time until he flung Bruce into a wall. He had spent the time after that testing Kal's strength as much as he could. Alfred ended up putting an end to his experimenting when he tried to drop a piano on Kal.
He couldn't help be childish when it came to Kal. He just irked him. Along with many other feelings of annoyance and hate that came with it.
Breaking in to Wayne Manor was easy. The El's didn't need security with all their powers, which meant Bruce could just scale the gate. He used the servants entrance to get in, and with a combination of years living in this place and hidden passageways he searched the house for Kal's room.
It turned out Kal had moved. Something which sent a flare of red to his eyes. He had taken over Bruce's old room. His things were still there, which was quite confusing. His bookcase and sketchbooks were still next to the window. Nothing new had been added there. Instead another bookcase had been added, along with a desk filled with sheet upon sheet of paper. Curiosity had him looking through them, what he found were reports. Not only reports but articles. With his name on. Kal was writing for the Daily Planet.
Didn't people wonder how he got to work on time? Raced through his head as he looked at his own face staring back at him.
Well this answered... nothing.
Mind saving this information for later Bruce went back on the search. The wardrobe was clear, which was actually a good thing. Even if Bruce was there to steal it, to find it so easily would be just sad.
He went out, stopping as he spotted the folded pyjama's in the room opposite. They were a child's size. Dick.
The boy wasn't in. No doubt the El's had him doing some kind of photo op. Bruce's heart felt heavy as he looked around the empty room. He should have came earlier. He should have came as soon as he was able to move and broke in to take Dick away.
He could always wait until they came home to take him. But he doubted he could get out without being seen. No, it was better to stick to the plan and take Dick when there was no chance they could come after them.
So he moved on. He searched any other hidden rooms Kal might have thought to hide his suit in. He looked behind the portrait, he looked in the library's secret room, he even looked in Alfred's room. Nothing.
It was a door slamming some floors down that had Bruce starting. He had always known the chances of getting caught were there but now it was actually happening. He darted over to his father's study. If they knew he was there he could lose them in the cave system.
He dove in to his father's study easily, how many times he had wished it to be unlocked as a child... He ran down the steps to the cave, stopping when he had another shock.
The dim shadows of the cave disappeared as a horde of lights beamed down on him. He blinked for what felt like ages before his eyes adjusted. When they did he was greeted with what could only be described as Superman's hideout. There were newspaper clippings on one board, almost the same as the one Bruce had in his warehouse. A computer system he was itching to get his hands on lay embedded into one of the cave walls. Among all this was the gem of it all in a glass case. Superman's suit. He didn't even stop to erase all the security as he opened the case and snagged the cape and tights. Unsurprisingly there were no alarms here either. Before he defeated Kal he was going to give him a lecture on security.
The suit was hard to hide as he ran away from the manor and back to his side of Gotham. He ended up bundling it all in the cape and walking around like it was a normal thing for someone to carry. He was surprised he got to his warehouse without being stopped.
He sacrificed buying food in favour of stealing it so he could buy spray paint instead. He took great satisfaction in demolishing the 'S' on the chest. Even if it could still be seen if he turned a specific way it was gone, and Bruce grinned as he hung it up.
Done with that he moved on to his actual plan. Arkham.
He remembered Arkham, it had been re-opening when he left. He remembered Jor taking him to W.E. On the weekends and asking about the files Thomas Wayne had on the place. He remembered looking into the files, reading about the past patients and reason for its closure. It hadn't been anything drastic, just the fact it was too old fashioned for modern medical institutions to keep open.
Jor had been fascinated with it. Before stumbling on it he had been primarily focused on advancing Earth's scientific realm. He didn't like the idea of something similar happening to Earth like it had on Krypton- if that had actually happened that is. After the files discovery however, he had started looking in to Earth psychology.
That was around the time Bruce had been put under scrutiny.
It was also twelve years ago. Since then Arkham had re-opened and housed a kind of people the founders would have never thought existed.
It was situated on an island, with only one way on by car and surrounded by water everywhere else. It was the perfect place to house an insane asylum. They hadn't changed much, he thought looking at it. It as like something from his nightmares, and he should know, he'd had a lot of them. Hundred year old ivy climbed up the grimy black walls. The main house, where doctors and security guards stayed if they needed to stay poked out the back of the asylum. The schematics, he remembered, triangulated the asylum manor and botanical gardens at the back, there was a wide open plain separating all of them, meaning if he got caught it was a short run and he could sneak into one of the other buildings.
But first he needed to break in. The windows were barred, and from some stolen research, electrified in places. The doors had fingerprint and full body scanners along with keypads and actual keys to keep people both in or out. Still, there was always a way in.
It turned out that the way in was the same way he got in to Wayne Manor: the servants entrance. All manors had them, and Arkham was no different. He found it to the side. A lone door, unlocked and leading into a changing room. He took a bus boy's uniform, changing and repressing the sigh of relief at finally wearing new clothes.
The manor was bustling with life when he ventured in. Doctors and security guards were roaming the halls with files and guns tucked under their arms. It all spoke of a change in shift, and soon. He really was in luck. Blending in was no trouble. Servants were invisible, overlooked, and he was no different.
It was too easy to do a full sweep of the manor. There was no way in to the asylum through the manor, he made sure to check everywhere- even the secret passages he remembered for later.
So he went to plan B. He went into the nearest bedroom and stole the extra security card in there. It was a security guards, it was made better when he found a spare suit to change in to. It would at least get him through the front door.
Which it did. The next few doors relied on ever changing guards and computer hacking. His luck held and found him in the lower levels of Arkham in under an hour. He bumped the guard out of his booth with the pretence or checking up on a specific patient. It wasn't a complete lie, and the guard wanted an excuse to stretch his legs anyway. A few more hacks, something he would have to refine to a faster pace in future, and he was strolling down a quite frightening corridor.
Many of the patients had hurled insults at him when he first entered the patient wing. It seemed no one was well liked in this place. But that was there, with patients who were just difficult because they were afraid and lashing out.
These patients in front of him were not afraid. They looked him in the eye as he passed, some of them speaking threats he knew they would keep.
He stopped when he saw a sign pointing to a door leading to a patient called 'Killer Croc.' From what he remembered that way led to a new wing, not a cell. What kind of patient needed a wing all to himself?
He shook it off, he wasn't here for him.
The patients were ranked from least difficult to most. The ones he passed now were still considered least. He could see why as he continued. One patient was practically foaming at the mouth, Bruce tried not to make eye contact.
Finally, after what felt like a walk through his mind , he came to who he wanted to see.
The man was ghostly pale, like any colour he used to have was drained out of him and used to accentuate his other features. His mouth was a blood red sneer as he glanced up at Bruce behind the glass. The brief flash of his eyes told Bruce he had come to the right man. There was true danger there, and he would need danger if he was going to pull his plan off.
He had already catalogued the cameras when he strolled over, there were three of them, all pointing too and from the main cage. He knew there was no sound- who would want to listen to people scream all day- and so long as he kept his head down and angled a certain way he could keep himself, and his purposes here a secret.
He spared a look at the mans cell. The rumpled bed. The sparse belongings. The straight-jacket. That could have been him if he had stayed in Gotham. A frightening thought. More terrifying than the man playing solitaire with his teeth.
He started his persuasion.
Surprisingly, he was easy to convince. A low throaty chuckle, and a "There's something unhinged about you. I should know I see it in myself every day." and he had a new best friend.
The others were easy to convince as well. By the time he sneaked out, he hadn't spent more than five minutes talking to one person, and no alarms had been raised. Arkham really needed to update their security.
He went back to his warehouse that night to work on his disguise. The red cape was the only thing still bright when he went to bed that night.
He didn't sleep well. He didn't sleep more than a few hours actually for a week. Not until he picked up a newspaper announcing the four inmate breakouts he wanted.
After that, the police were everywhere. Hourly patrols passed any open or shady area in Gotham. His hood was always up when he went out now. Despite the fact his face hadn't frequented a front page since the first inmate break out, he didn't trust the people of Gotham not to remember his face. Mostly because Kal had attached a reward to anyone with information about him.
The heat on the villains died down after a week. The police, instead of hoping they would randomly stumble on them, had started looking into past known hideouts.
If only they knew the villains had stayed in other villains hideouts. It had been Bruce's idea. A way to throw the police off the scent.
That Wednesday he journeyed over to the Riddler's underground speak easy. He had managed to persuade the Riddler to tell him how to disable to booby-traps before he left Arkham. Any other time he would have broke Nygma out too, however he didn't' have the expertise Bruce needed for his venture. The others were all inside, it was where they had scheduled to meet.
He had managed to keep his face hidden in all of his encounters, sticking to the shadows or keeping his cap low over his face. This time he had borrowed one of Nygma's masks, and kept his hood up as he joined the poker game they were playing.
He had imagined without glass, he would feel terrified. At least a little afraid. Quite the opposite was true. He felt calm around these people, like he understood them. He supposed, in a way, he did, he too wanted to destroy Superman.
They dealt out another hand of cards before getting to work. They plotted for hours, each of them going off on tangents as their rage interfered with their intelligence. Bruce made sure to reign them In when they got to that point. He needed to keep their damage to a minimum, and concentrated on Kal.
He left them to set up on their own around two. He had somewhere else to be after all.
The bus for someone unemployed and homeless was too expensive. Thankfully, he wasn't above walking, even if it took hours. The bridge was a long stretch of darkness. Sole cars ventured back and forth, lighting him up with headlights every now and then. That all stopped when he got halfway across. It was a blast of light that blinded him momentarily as his eyes adjusted.
Metropolis. It was like the moon against Gotham's murky night. He felt exposed despite his hood being up and his face still covered in fading bruises. The people looked at him as well. They didn't keep their heads down and walk fast like they were afraid he was going to jump him. These people were actually happy as they stopped to say hello to him.
It took him twice as long to figure out where he was going in Metropolis because the people were so nice. They offered to take him there himself, to which Bruce ended up sneaking off when they were talking about the sights of Metropolis.
He managed to get a neighbour to let him into the building. The stairwell led him up to the last floor before the penthouse. Being a rich boy meant he knew the perfect way to get there. All it took was a bathroom emergency, a kind old woman and sneaking out her window to the fire escape.
The lights were on when he breached the last ladder step. Bruce had never really been one for the playboy lifestyle, having more intellectual things to focus on. Still, living in the circus had meant he was around naked and near naked girls a good amount of the time. So seeing, what had to be a party, with many of those things didn't exactly shock him.
What shocked them, on the other hand, was the power box he found after a quick outside circuit of the suite. One quick flick and the lights went out. He repressed the giggle at the screams. It was a power outage, surely they had experienced the dark before. Then again, this was Metropolis, even when it was dark there was a light somewhere, which was proven by the blinding streetlights that illuminated the room like any light would.
The screams died down to playful giggles as a man stepped out onto the balcony. Composed and waving off their offers to come with him Lex Luthor didn't bother looking around for the fuse box, instead, he leaned himself up against his balcony.
The last time Bruce had seen Lex was when they were thrown together at a fundraiser. He was thirteen, he recalled, Lex sixteen. His parents had taken Jor and Lara away immediately for talks and Bruce, not wanting to entertain Kal that night, had slipped away under a table. Luthor had found him immediately, and surprised him with not giving his position away. He ended up taking a deck of cards from his pocket and teaching Bruce some blackjack for the rest of the night.
He wasn't sixteen anymore. He had filled in to his shoulders, and his baldness. He wore it with dignity, his back straight and an air of confidence he hadn't had the last time they had met. His suit was rumpled, but other than that he was as polished as any business man.
Even when Bruce dropped down next to him.
"I was wondering whether I would be paid a visit," Lex started, turning to greet him.
Lex was an interesting man, Bruce knew that just by looking at him. Even with his disguise Bruce had the feeling Lex knew exactly who he was talking too. He didn't shy away from him, didn't greet him as a friend. It was like a business transaction, which was exactly what it was. Even if it was illegal. He also knew that Lex wouldn't out him. Those eyes told him everything about his deals, even if he was under torture he would keep Bruce to himself. It was in his own interest after all, which was what only motivated him.
With that in mind Bruce relaxed himself and looked out over Metropolis. "You're key to taking him down."
'He' didn't need to be specified, they only had one common enemy.
A chuckle escaped Lex's mouth, with a "We don't have long," and a pointed glance towards his muffled giggling window they got down to business.
They concluded after a few minutes. Lex was difficult, yet he wanted the same thing as Bruce and eventually agreed to what he wanted. Just in time too, since as soon as he hopped back towards the fuse box a girl sidled out asking for Lex.
The walk back to Gotham was like losing his sight. The lights dimmed and the air clogged as Gotham's smoky fumes entered his system. It seemed he wasn't the only one returning from Metropolis as he saw something bright light up the shadowy highway.
Kal had found a new suit. It was exactly like his old one, except he was missing a cape. Bruce had never seen him properly in his suit, just flashes as he ran past or blinked into existence in front of him. Now was no different. The only reason he knew Kal was missing his cape was because the blurred image was more blue than red. Thankfully Bruce didn't see any clearer images as Kal flew past now.
It still didn't stop the well of resentment that rose up as he saw him however. He was going home to Dick. To Alfred. To his house and his life. Something Bruce would never have until he got rid of Kal.
He went back to his Warehouse that night with a grim satisfaction at the thought that he only had to wait a few days. A few days and he could make his dream a reality.