"You know, I think this is probably the first time Clark has ever had this many friends over at once."

Bruce admittedly appreciated Martha Kent's motherly attempts at assuaging the tension in the room with humor - it was most definitely as unorthodox situation, the entire group of them sitting in the Kent family living room where just months earlier, a group had been gathered for Clark Kent's funeral. All of the warmth and humor in the world, however, were little help. Bruce, Diana, Arthur, Barry, and Victor were all seated awkwardly in various seats around the room with Martha, and it appeared they all had very little to say.

"I think it would be most prudent if Bruce went to speak with him first," Diana finally spoke up. The small smile accompanied with a deep inhale on Martha's part seemed to confirm her agreement with the statement, and she stood up from her chair, walking over to place a hand on Bruce's shoulder. Inexplicably, the movement made him flinch. The singular moment of contact was filled with maternal warmth, and somehow succeeded in making him feel... small. He complied, however, and got to his feet, following Martha down the short hallway to a room with a closed door.

There was a certain level of pain that came with being here - entering a happy home that had once housed a whole family for many happy years. Bruce would be hard-pressed to acknowledge it, but to him, it felt almost as though this home had a soul of its own and a life of its own that he wasn't worthy of coming near. He considered himself a defender of justice - but justice, he had learned, was not always in step with the the concept of good. Good was this family. Good was this home. Good was something that he was not entirely sure he could be anymore, no matter how hard he tried.

"Lois is in there with him. Take your time," she said with a smile, giving Bruce's shoulder a squeeze. Martha then walked away, back towards the living room no doubt to continue entertaining the others who she insisted were not here on business - they were guests in her home. "And around these parts, we don't let guests go hungry," Bruce heard her state down the hall as she returned to take care of the others.

Bruce lingered in the hallway in front of the door for a few moments, his face pulled into a slight frown. It was not, he reasoned, that he was afraid. It wasn't fear. It couldn't be fear. It was simply a reluctance to face things which he still did not understand. Finally, with his jaw slightly clenched, he closed his hand around the doorknob and slowly pushed it open - he gulped at the confirmatory sight.

Lois was seated in a chair at the side of the bed, which was now placed next to a window where the sun streamed in unencumbered, and there under the covers was Clark Kent. Superman. He looked pale, and his eyes seemed slightly sunken, surrounded by dark circles. While the covers were pulled up over him, they were low enough to show his chest underneath, with a bandage over where the spear had pierced, though it was likely more for show than anything else. It seemed unlikely that it would be bleeding after all this time, after all.

Stranger things, however, had happened.

"You're looking a little rough nowadays, Supe," Bruce said, closing the door behind him and crossing his arms over his chest, one side of his mouth quirking into an almost-smirk.

"I think I'm probably looking better than I was last time you saw me," Clark managed to croak out before glancing up at Lois and giving her hand a squeeze - she looked back at him with such love and fondness that Bruce's only means of shrugging off the emotion was snark.

"If I'd had a little more of a heads up I would've brought a gift basket or something. A get well card," Bruce quipped, taking two or three lumbering steps forward but taking care not to get too close. Even if it wasn't said, he still felt as though he were an outsider, encroaching on a moment that wasn't his to enter. "I've been a little busy."

While words still seemed to be difficult for the still-recovering Kryptonian, Clark's expression shifted to one of questioning while he tilted his head to one side. Lois drew in a deep breath and almost imperceptibly shook her head. It was so soon. Admittedly, she wanted a moment where she didn't have to share Clark with the world - where he could simply be Clark and not Superman. The possibility crossed her mind of simply not alerting Bruce about Clark's return, but she knew that it was only a matter of time. This was the man she loved, and this was the kind of thing he did. She had to share him with the world because he belonged to the world.

"Doomsday was just the beginning," Bruce confirmed, immediately feeling a strange sense of remorse for being the bearer of the news that shattered the joy and relief of the moment. "I think you're back just in time."

"Luthor was trying to gather the others like me. Like us," Diana's voice chimed in as she peered her head through the door. "Bruce brought us together first. He's been... a good leader. We wouldn't be here without him."

"We?"

"All of us - we're ready to fight alongside you," Diana confirmed with an eager nod.

"So she is with you," Clark managed to said with a weak laugh as he glanced at Bruce, and despite his pallor and the frailty of his voice, the fact the he was smiling seemed to somehow still give the semblance of strength. "What's happening? With Luthor?"

At this, Bruce and Diana shared a glance and Lois bristled slightly. While she hadn't played a part in their plans, she had quickly surmised that Claire's connection to Lex Luthor was no coincidence, and that there were only a handful of people who could be expected to be involved. If Lois knew, they would have expected no less from her.

"Lex Luthor is out free," Diana explained. "But I doubt that he is our priority anymore. There is a greater threat coming to Earth -"

"A threat that he brought on us," Bruce interrupted, unable to fight back a slight snarl - Clark tensed slightly at the sight of the disagreement between the pair, realizing quickly that the world he was returning to was even more complicated than it had been before. "He's out of our control now."

"He's not our concern," Diana corrected. "Luthor's part has been played, focusing our energies on him is a waste of time." The banter between the pair caused Clark and Lois to share a brief, knowing glance, but they knew that it was not the issue at hand.

"The girl I told you about," Lois said, her voice slicing through the tension with full knowledge that it would get them nowhere. "The nurse? I think she's been keeping him in check, ever since he was released from Arkham -"

"Arkham?" Clark asked, his face contorting into a frown. While Clark Kent was far from an expert of Gotham City and its workings, one was hard pressed to have never heard of Arkham Asylum. Lex Luthor was, perhaps, insane - and indeed, if Clark's objective had been vengeance, he easily could have relished in the knowledge that Lex Luthor had suffered.

But Clark had also seen, behind the manic, destructive, paranoid figure who had threatened to take his mother from him, was the Lex Luthor who had never been able to shed the shackles clamped on him since boyhood. There was inherent humanity in him, too, and if Clark hadn't seen it he wouldn't have bothered preventing the Doomsday beast from destroying him. Whether or not he was correct in his principles, it was Clark's belief in the value of humanity and of life that made the world worth saving. Somewhere even someone Lex Luthor, even if the idea of forgiveness was beyond even the abilities of the purest of hearts, possessed a part of that value.

"Why was he -"

"I had him sent there," Bruce interrupted sternly, immediately realizing that the idyllic concept of Clark's resurrection was shattered. They had for a moment been kindred spirits, but the fact now returned that they fundamentally disagreed on the way the world worked - on how one worked within the world. He sensed Clark's disapproval of his actions, and immediately, the tension in the room grew - swelled to new heights. They were heroes, but not the same kind of hero.

"What I still don't understand is how you returned," Diana spoke up, half out of a desire to divert the conversation from taking an undesired turn, half out of genuine curiosity. At this, Clark's expression went vaguely blank as though he was struggling to come to a description.

"He doesn't remember everything," Lois supplied for him, giving his hand a slight squeeze and immediately hovering more closely over him as though her body could shield him from their questions until she felt like he was ready for them. "He's still recovering -"

"I'll tell them what I can, Lo," Clark said with a determined nod. "I remember somewhere dark. Somewhere that felt like I was surrounded by smoke, like there was nothing there except a - a machine," Clark recounted, gesturing a box-like shape with both of his hands, his expression confused. "I woke up and all I could see was that it was latched onto me..."

"The Mother Box," Diana said with a slight gasp, sharing a glance with Bruce. "Victor's Mother Box."

"...and there was a voice there. But it didn't come from a body. It was like it came from the darkness. It came from all around me," Clark recounted, his brow creasing tightly into a frown. "But it couldn't do anything. It needed... a body."

"Hold on," Diana said, visibly distracted, raising her hand graciously and stepping out of the room - she quickly reappeared with the others, who stood hesitantly in the doorway while Diana reentered, gesturing back at them - Arthur, Barry, and Victor. "This is all of us. I think... I think we must all know what we are facing."

"You think this is our enemy?" Bruce asked. "A disembodied smog voice?"

"I know it is," Diana said solemnly. "I'm not sure how, but I know." She took a breath and glanced back at Victor, whose eyes darted intermittently to the door as though he were tempted to leave but had nowhere to go if he did. "Victor, is it possible that this is the Mother Box you tried to destroy?"

"Yeah," he said, his face deeply frowning as well. "I'm sure it is. Something wants to come to Earth, and the Mother Box is the only way to do it. But..." his face, strangely enough pulled into a brief flash of a grin, "I went to town on that Mother Box. Not gonna lie, I'm a little proud that it isn't working properly."

"But it's still trying," Clark reasoned with a frown. "He said that my body would be the ideal vessel - but he can only take a willing vessel. A pure heart is too full..." His voice trailed off, and realization seemed to dawn on his face as he felt memories of his experience returning as he recited words that were not his own. "...to host the power of Darkseid."

Darkseid.

Victor's eyes closed briefly, and he shook his head in obvious dismay with his hands clenched into fists at his sides. "So this Darkseid," he spoke up in a voice that quavered slightly, "wants to come to Earth. He wants to use the Mother Box -"

"But he can't do it because the Mother Box isn't functioning as he expected," Diana confirmed with a nod. "So the next best thing is to find a body to house him. And of course, Superman was his first choice."

A look of resignation fell over Bruce's face at the confirmation of the threat from a realm with which he had no place fighting. This was not, his mind suggested to him, his fight anymore. The rightful leader of this merry band of metahumans had returned and he was no longer needed. He knew how to deal out justice in the world of men. This was a job for a different kind of hero than he knew how to be. He cleared his throat and again crossed his arms over his chest, taking a step back.

"Well," he said with a forced smirk and a shrug. "It seems like you've all got this situation under control. I guess I'll be in Gotham if you -"

"You're leaving?" Diana asked, frowning in an expression that straddled the border of confusion and outrage. "Bruce, don't be -"

"The real hero's back in town," Bruce shrugged, nodding in Clark's direction. "He's recovering. I don't doubt he'll be back in fighting condition in time for the main event. He's Superman. I was just filling in."

And he strode out the room while everyone looked on, stunned, out the front door of the Kent home without so much as a goodbye to anyone in home - most definitely not to Martha Kent. It was better this way. It was better to go back to what he knew. He wouldn't leave the others stranded - they'd be able to take the jet back. Bruce Wayne could very easily get anywhere he needed to be, however he wanted to get there. The simple fact was that he needed to get away from here, no matter how he got there.

He was a good way down the front drive of the Kent farm and down the road when he was met with a whooshing sound that he instantly recognized, and the appearance of a bright red blur in front of him, blocking him from taking anymore steps forward. Bruce rolled his eyes at the sight of Barry Allen, standing in front of him with his hands held up like a trainer attempting to appease a wild animal.

This kid was going to be the death of him.

"Whoa, Mister Wayne," he said, his eyes wide in surprise. "Where are you going?"

"Home."

"Well, can I maybe finish some of those cookies first? I'm pretty sure that Mrs. Kent is just pulling them out of the oven," Barry chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. "And I am honestly starving. My metabolism's just about as fast as the rest of me, and if Superman's hearing is as good as they say, he can probably hear it growling from here."

"You can stay as long as you like - I'm going back alone," Bruce said, allowing his eyes to briefly drift shut while he inhaled through his nostrils. Barry's expression went dumbfounded, and he grimaced in confusion.

"But - but, you know," he said, shaking his head fervently, "for what it's worth, you're kind of my favorite."

There was a pause while Bruce tried to decide how to respond to the younger man's candor - his face went blank, and in response, Barry chimed in with a sing-song voice, "Awkward..."

Begrudgingly, perhaps even just to humor Barry a small amount, Bruce gave a throat chuckle that sounded more like a cough, shaking his head and attempting to step past Barry, only to have the younger man take a few backwards steps to remain in front of him. "Look," he continued with his hands up again, "what I mean is, you can't leave us, Mister Wayne. You're our boss man. You're like our... our Batdad. You're our leader."

"I'm not the kind of person you wanna count on as a leader, kid," Bruce said, unable to help a slight sneer. He'd been a leader that someone else had counted on before. He had failed, and the pain that remained because of that failure was still evident in his voice. "You're a good guy, Barry. And Clark Kent is a good guy. He's the kind of leader you're looking for."

"But Mister Wayne -"

"Good luck, kid," Bruce said clapping a hand onto Barry's shoulder and gently pushing him back in the direction of the Kent house. He needed him to turn around and go. Bruce didn't have any desire to have anyone else counting on him anymore - not when someone who was clearly more fit and able to protect the team was back. "I'm rootin' for all of you," he said with surprising honesty.

Bruce Wayne reached for his phone to call Alfred, to arrange for transport for him alone back to Gotham - and it was then that Barry realized he didn't stand a chance convincing him. Not now. Not alone. But, he decided with his determination set in his face, that didn't mean he was ready to give up some of the closest things he'd had to true friends in a very long time. Not by a long shot. He dashed back into the house to rejoin the others, who stared at him, waiting anxiously for the news.

"He's gonna need a lot of convincing," Barry said, shrugging and shaking his head. "But we've gotta get him back."


A/N

Sort of exposition-heavy, short chapter, but again I hope you enjoyed it. I'm still getting a feel for writing the Justice League as an ensemble, so it's definitely something I'm hoping I can warm up to and improve as the plot unfolds. I also have a few new plot bunnies that will require some small tweaks in the next few chapters I have written, so I hope you bear with me if there are delays in between chapters for the next few updates.

Also just wanted to make a note or reminder that in this story, the Mother Boxes and Darkseid are going to take bits and pieces from various versions, so a lot of it is just experimentation on my end. Stick with me, and I'll make it the best ride possible! Also, there are going to be some heavy bits coming, so to balance it out, I'm most likely going to be posting some of the cutesy and fun deleted scenes and featurettes on my Tumblr in the coming weeks so I don't go completely nutso.

As always, thank you, thank you, thank you for all of your feedback and interactions with me in all ways, shapes, and forms. I've had a rough few days with real-life stuff, so hearing from all of you is absolutely the high point of my day. I have been getting a handful of really obscene, trolling reviews in the past few days that I decided not to allow to be posted, and I just think that it's really unfortunate that the Marvel/DC fandom feuds are trickling into here. Let's not go down that route, yeah?

That being said, hope you guys enjoyed this update! Can't wait to hear from you! Until next time, cheers!