A/N: Hey everybody, sorry for the delay between updates. I don't have any excuses - just an explanation. I'm writing a lot at work right now - a lot - and sometimes I think there are only so many words, and I have to prioritise my job. But I'll keep at this. It's been a long journey, and we're almost at the end. Thanks for sticking with it. :)
G.
Motive
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Perry White was a naturally curious man. It's what made him a good reporter.
No, it's what made him a great reporter.
Until the day she died, his sainted mother – may God rest her soul – loved to tell the story that little Perry's first word was, "Why?"
'Mama, why is the ground hard?'
'Mama, why do birds like trees?'
'Mama, why do you always roll your eyes when I ask you a question?'
And for all of his 50+ years Perry White had never stopped asking the question 'Why?' Also; 'What? When? Where? and How?'
The glib explanation was that he liked to get to the truth of things. The more honest explanation was that it was fun to dig. To scratch away at something that everyone else accepted as fact, and expose it's true form.
It was a rush.
But now, for the first time in his life, his natural instinct was failing him.
He was marching along a cramped, winding concrete hallway with the biggest story he would ever come across, and Perry, for the life of him, couldn't think of a single question to ask.
Superman, for his part, was a quiet companion. Jaw set, eyes forward, he moved with calm and purpose. To sate is curiosity, Perry studied him. The man moved like a jaguar. Every step sure and deliberate.
They'd proceeded in silence for almost a full five minutes, and the hallway hadn't changed. It descended on a steady, albeit shallow gradient – like a ramp down to the centre of the earth. Perry didn't want to imagine what they'd find at the end.
"You can ask if you want to," said Superman, breaking the silence so suddenly that it gave Perry a start.
"Ask what?"
"Whatever you want. I know you have questions."
"You do?"
"Of course," said Superman, "Coz I know you."
Admittedly, that was one of the few dozen question questions that had raced through his mind. And since his companion had just given him permission…
"So, I have a double too?" he asked, "Do you know him? Me? I mean-"
"Yes, you do," said Superman, "And I know him well. He's my boss."
"I'm a superhero on your world?"
Superman laughed. Then he stopped short, and looked embarrassed.
"I'm sorry," he said, "I didn't mean to laugh at that."
"I don't blame you," said Perry, "It's a funny concept. I mean, what would my name even be? Hack?"
"He's a reporter," said Superman, "Editor, actually."
"Of what?"
"The Daily Planet."
"Impressive,."
"Next question," said Superman, "What do you want to know? If you're married, if you have kids, who your doppelganger's favourite singer is? It's Elvis, by the way."
"No," said Perry, "What are you doing here?"
"Excuse me?"
"You told Kid Flash you were almost as fast as him," said Perry.
"Right."
"And you can fly."
"Right."
"I've seen how strong you are, and I'm guessing invulnerability," Perry went on, "Not to mention the trick with the eyes."
"X-Ray and heat vision."
"So, what are you doing?"
"I don't understand," Superman admitted.
Perry stopped walking. Superman had to halt too, and turn back to face him. He recognised that look in Perry's eyes. His mind was zigzagging – identifying and connecting patterns that just about everybody else would miss.
"I'm guessing you could pretty much blast straight through this place if you wanted to," said Perry, "And yet you brought a team, and then chose to saddle yourself with the oldest, least physically-able member of that team. And now, we're walking instead of–"
"Super-speeding?"
"Right."
Superman nodded. He appeared to be giving the question due consideration, which Perry was grateful for. Superman struck him as a thoughtful man.
"It's not my job to rescue Clark," he said, at last.
This gave Perry pause. "Why not? This rescue mission was your idea."
"And that's fine," said Superman, "I can nudge things – guide events as gently as possible – but at the end of the day, Clark's fate is in the hands of his friends. This world doesn't have a Superman. And it won't unless Clark chooses to put on the shield. That is, rightly or wrongly, the natural order of things."
"I've seen a few Sci-Fi movies in my time," said Perry, "Are you saying you'll create some kind of paradox if you interfere? I'm pretty sure there was an episode of The Twilight Zone where the world exploded because a man jumped through a wormhole and met himself."
"It's okay," said Superman, "That won't happen."
"Are you sure?"
"I've met versions of myself before."
"You live an eventful life."
"You don't know the half of it."
"But all this talk of a natural order, and Clark stepping up to be a hero, and your friends being the ones to make the save…"
"Yes?"
"It's all a cover," said Perry, "What's the real reason?"
Superman laughed. It was loud, and hearty, and genuine.
"I shoulda known," he said, "I never was any good at keeping things from you."
"That still isn't an answer."
"Okay, I have… an ulterior motive for being here," said Superman.
Perry's eyes narrowed to slits, and were suddenly cold. Superman noticed, and hurried to explain, "It's just as important as saving Clark," he said, "Maybe more so."
"What is it?"
"A few years ago – back on my world – Lex Luthor harvested a vial of my blood," said Superman, "The how isn't important, but it caused a lot of grief for a lot of people. A lot of death. I wasn't lying about why I came here. I did come to thank Clark for helping Lois get back home. But as soon as I heard that Clark had been captured…"
"You know what Lex is doing here?"
"I'm almost certain."
"What?"
"He's going to make himself immortal."
"Immortal?" Perry looked even more sceptical.
"My DNA, when mixed with human DNA, powers regeneration at an escalating rate. To a factor of five. Essentially, with the right mixture, it acts as power for an undead body."
"This is all a little too fantastical," said Perry.
Clark nodded, and started walking again. Perry hurried along beside him.
"Just take my word for it," said Superman.
"Fine," said Perry, "But where are we going?"
"On my world – and others - 33.1 has always been split into two levels. A secret chamber within a secret chamber. One is for Lex's experiments, and the other… for his last hope."
"Are you always this vague?"
"Around you?" Superman smirked, "Absolutely."
"And the reason we're not super-speeding?"
"Because I can't."
"What?"
"This place is drowning in meteor rock," said Superman. I lost my powers almost ten minutes ago. That's why I asked you to come with me. To finish the job in case I can't."
"Wait!" Perry stopped again, alarmed now, "You're powerless?"
"Yes."
"But I thought the meteor rocks hurt you."
"They do."
"Doesn't look like it."
"Believe me, it does," said Superman, "I could moan a little bit, if it'll help."
"This isn't funny," said Perry, "You're walking into a meteor-infected tomb."
"Again, that's why you're here," said Superman, "To finish it. Don't worry, I'll show you what to do before…"
"Before what?"
"Before I die."
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