Chapter 11: Extraction from Blüdhaven

Clark hung up the phone with a sigh. He raised his glasses, stretched out of his chair with a yawn, and finally stood up. He had been sitting in his chair for hours, hanging on the phone.

"Where are you going, Kent? We're not done yet! "

The journalist sighed and turned back to his colleague.

"Coffee. "

The young woman dialed a new number on her own phone.

"Oh good idea! With milk and two sugars! "

Clark rolled his eyes and grabbed his jacket to leave. He passed Jimmy in front of the elevator.

"Why are you still there, Clark?! "

"Lois. "

The redheaded boy's eyes widened and as soon as the elevator door opened, he slipped in quickly.

"I'd better go before I get screwed too! "

"You said it. "

Jimmy grinned at him and as soon as they reached the first floor, they greeted each other. Clark pulled his cell phone from his pocket, which he hadn't checked in hours. It was already 9 p.m. Maybe that was why he was getting hungry. Machinally, he walked without looking ahead to the coffee vendor at the bottom of the building.

"Hi Marco, two coffees as usual please. "

"The other one is for Miss Lane? "

Clark didn't look up from his phone to answer.

"You get it. More overtime at the service of Madam. "

He heard the young man laughing as he made their coffees and put his phone away. He had no news from the Bat, he should have known. But he still had hoped to hear from him. Instead, he was getting messages from Diana asking for advice on a gift for Steve. He didn't mind, on the contrary, he liked to be helpful, but he would have preferred another member of the League to come and talk to him.

He left with his coffees and went back inside the building. It had been two days since he had heard from Bruce. Two days that had seemed endless. Clark mentally slapped himself. He had to get Wayne out of his head. It was necessary for his sanity. Now that he'd tasted the forbidden fruit, the temptation was even stronger, and he'd often thought to himself that he could be at the Manor as easily as snapping his fingers. But he wasn't alone in this. He had to respect Bruce's personal life and the fact that he might need time to process. Clark knew that a first-time homosexual experience could be difficult to accept.

He set Lois' coffee down in front of her as she seemed to wait on the other end of the line. Clark watched from a distance as she listed the numbers in front of her. She had only crossed off two more numbers. There must have been about twenty more. He listened to Lois introduce herself on the phone, only to be hung up on without finishing. She put the receiver down hard and took a firm hold of her coffee.

"What a jerk!" she said as she put the cup down.

"Lois, I think we should stop, don't you? "

"No! There's only 17 John Taylors left! "

"And it's possible they all have private lives, Lois. If you want information, calling them all up one by one in the phone book won't help you. "

He dodged a pack of tissues and, at his colleague's insistence, dialed another number.

"You'll owe me a favor. "

"Yes, yes, Kent, go to work! "

Clark wondered for the rest of the evening why he was doing this tyrant in heels such a favor.

It was hot. Really hot. He could feel the flames licking at his skin, and even though he was numb to them, he could estimate how high the temperature was. It must have been close to 1200 degrees Celsius. It was very high. He reached into the inferno and used his X-ray vision to spot people still in the forest. He had heard on the sheriffs' radio that there were still many campers out on a field trip and that six people were missing.

The canyon forest he was in was very large and the fire was spreading very quickly due to the wind. He was the only hero on the scene at the moment, so he had to prioritize his response. Find the people present, make sure they were evacuated. Then, he would intervene on the fire. The violence of the wind made his task difficult and at such a temperature, if he froze the flames, he risked killing the trapped people. Even the blast of his super speed had less impact.

He took his attention off the fire when he felt that tingle of energy stronger than the last few times. He could almost have sworn he saw a spark coming from those fingers. But with the flames all around him, he doubted he had actually seen it. Shaking off the thoughts that were swirling around this problem, he focused more intently on the fire and the people to be rescued. Then he sharpened his hearing.

Through the crackling of the burning wood, he managed to hear an almost imperceptible call for help. He found two campers a mile away, who had covered themselves in a small stream. They were on the verge of asphyxiation, with partial burns. He pulled them out of the flames and went in search of the others. It took him more than half an hour to find the other four people in the surrounding 2,000 km². The last ones were in a more serious condition, but alive. That was the only thing that mattered.

He then set about slowing down the advance of the fire, which was spreading dangerously southward, reaching the first houses north of Los Angeles. He then did the first thing he could think of. He used his breath. But Clark was not an ice-cooling superhero. He could only produce an icy blast, which didn't seem to last very long under the blazing fire. But it was enough for the firefighters to gradually bring the flames under control.

It was a long, exhausting and difficult process. He called out again to other heroes for help. Only Red Tornado was able to answer his call in time and between them they used air to galvanize the flames, allowing the firefighters to intervene. Clark moved through several sections of forest, freezing or using his super speed. He could only intervene if he was close to the red robot, so the duo had to coordinate their movements.

It took several hours for the firefighters to get the fire under control. When the two superheroes pulled out, he and Red Tornado didn't look like much. Superman's face was blackened by smoke and dripping with sweat, and Red Tornado's paint job had taken a beating. After a quick exchange, the two superheroes went their separate ways.

Clark fell back in his desk chair, exhausted from his intervention. He was still too hot, even though he had arrived in Metropolis about ten minutes earlier. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, just long enough to regain his composure and try to cool off. Even so, he could feel the inquisitive look of his colleague in front of him.

"You took a very, very long lunch break Smallville, she dropped on an inquisitive tone. "

"I had other things to do," he said in a weary tone.

"And these things involve a wood-fired barbecue and a certain Elena? With your disheveled look, I wouldn't be surprised. Anyway, I told Perry that you left in the morning to see an informant. I hope it was worth it! "

Clark straightened in his chair and watched his reflection on his computer screen to rearrange himself. His tie was slightly askew and the back of his hair was a bit messy. And yes, he also smelled like a wood fire after all. Then he looked up at Lois, looking suspicious:

"How do you know about Elena? "

The young woman gave him a wide, mischievous smile.

"Come on, Clark, I'm a reporter. You should be careful with your extended absences, Perry wouldn't like them. "

Clark knew Lois had gotten her information from somewhere. Would Jimmy have dropped the information so quickly?

"Jimmy? "

She laughed at the request.

"No, he ran away before I could catch him. "

The brown had a light rictus by imagining perfectly the young photographer to make. Then Loïs resumed, putting back his attention on her.

"In fact, you left so quickly earlier that you forgot your smartphone. That « Elena » woman called you several times. "

Clark raised an eyebrow and looked for his phone on his desk, only to find it in Lois' direction. He retrieved it and checked his calls. Indeed, the young woman had called him twice. And he also had messages. Some were from her. She invited him to lunch one day this week, a message to which Clark gladly replied. Then he had other messages. One from Diana, asking his opinion on personal things, and a single, unique message from Bruce.

Just seeing Bruce's name was enough to broaden his smile. He hoped it was personal. It was personal. He opened it. The message was very brief, but also very clear. A time, a place, a date. A dinner in Atlantic City. Clark tried to contain his enthusiasm by responding positively to the evening's offer. Then Lois' mischievous little laugh called him to order. He decided to get the woman to change the subject.

"So, you finally found your John Taylor ? "

"Actually, he'd been out of Metropolis for two months. He hadn't changed his address yet. He lives in Gotham now, but he died three weeks ago in a car accident. "

Clark mused. John Taylor was one of the truck drivers they had managed to identify, on their investigation. Clark hadn't asked Lois how she'd gotten the information, but either way, they were headed for the wall.

"What if we broke into one of their labs? "

The reporter shook his head negatively.

"I thought you wanted the Pulitzer, not a criminal record. "

"So come up with a better idea, genius! "

"I'm on it. In the meantime, I've got a few more stories to write if you don't mind. "

"The one on the sports page? "

Clark sighed and went back to work, if he didn't want to end up on the unemployment line.

Kent had just sent his article to Perry for validation and was about to leave when he received a curious message. It was late afternoon, so he still had time for his date with Bruce, but the number was unknown. He consulted it, slightly suspicious.

st bernadine blud asap

Clark frowned. St for Street? Saint? Blud for Blüdhaven? Was Dick in trouble? He typed the keywords into his computer's search engine and found something that matched. An old abandoned church near the port of Blüdhaven, named Saint Bernadine. He swore as he got up from his chair.

"Clark? "

"An emergency, I have to go. "

He took his jacket and his phone and left the Daily Planet very quickly, abandoning in a corner his glasses and his jacket.

His ear picked up the sound of machine gun fire before his X-ray vision told him what was going on. Superman stopped at the top of a building, taking cover as he tried to make sense of the scene he was seeing through the walls of the old church.

He didn't have to make himself visible. He hadn't put on his suit and had nothing to protect his face. If the message had come from Dick and he had shown up as Superman, he probably would have ruined the young hero's whole plan of action. He might have been unmasked, but that didn't mean they'd connected him with his mask or his position in the League.

He studied the situation. Two people were being shot at by a dozen men and were trapped in the back of the church. Another group of armed men seemed to be trying to break in from the back and get the drop on them. Clark saw fit to neutralize them first.

Using his superspeed, he took out five men and stood on top of the building, observing its structure and the position of the men. Raising his fists, Clark estimated his strength before striking the roof of the church, which collapsed on the men below. The attack was not precise, but he had managed to neutralize the enemy without killing the victims. He stopped flying and joined Grayson.

He was greeted by the barrel of a Sig Sauer 716 Patrol of very large caliber.

"Goddamn it, you almost finished us off!" Dick shouted as he recognized him.

Dick looked terrible. But he didn't look badly hurt, unlike the other man next to him, who said:

"Sup... you called Sup... "

"Shut the fuck up, Jay! "

Jason Todd. Clark was surprised to see him there. But he'd think about it later, uncovering Jason's wound to get a surface view, and then he changed his vision. The bullet was still there and had hit the hepatic artery. If he didn't act fast, he was going to bleed to death.

"Can you do anything? "

"Yes. But I can't get you both out. The roof of the building in the back, stay there. "

They both knew the city was no longer safe for him. Then Clark lifted Jason up and flew away.

Clark knew that entering the Cave would set off an alert. He didn't know if Bruce would be notified by a personal alarm or if it was through Alfred. He just hoped that Alfred would be notified of their arrival. As he settled Jason on one of the cellar treatment tables, he heard the elevator open and turned his head in the butler's direction.

"I need your help, I don't know where the emergency tools are. "

Alfred lowered the barrel of his shotgun and set it to the side when he recognized Clark. He retrieved the equipment.

"Oh, hi, Alfred... "

"Master Jason, we'll take care of you. "

"Dick... "

Alfred looked up at Clark. The latter was in the process of equipping himself with gloves and a pair of pliers. He could see the bullet without problems, but he didn't have a direct line of sight to cauterize the artery with his thermovision.

"I'll go get him when you're stable. "

He was losing a lot of blood. Alfred was mopping up the blood and visibility was difficult. Neither of them was a doctor, let alone a surgeon. But they had eventually learned to act when needed.

"I can see the bullet, Alfred. I'll remove it, but I can't get to the artery. "

Alfred pulled out a syringe and stuck it into Jason's arm, probably an anesthetic. Clark plunged his forceps into the young man's abdomen. He managed to guide the instrument by regularly changing his vision and after many minutes managed to catch the bullet. But the hemorrhage was still significant.

"I'll infuse him. "

Clark nodded and thought. He wasn't a surgeon, but he needed a better view. He needed to enlarge the wound. He grabbed a scalpel.

"I'll try to cauterize it, and if that doesn't work I'll take him to the hospital. "

He knew that if he didn't act in the next few minutes Jason would die. The situation was more than stressful.

"This might be more helpful to you. "

He turned his head to see the object Alfred was handing him. A laser stylet that Caulder had developed for medical purposes. He had made his technology available to the League. Bruce had to get it. It was the perfect tool. His vision might have burned other organs and was only direct. Here at least he could go through the tissue.

He concentrated as much as possible to go through the tissues. The operation was delicate and he tried to be as fast as possible, but also as meticulous as possible. In this kind of situation, he regretted not having chosen to study medicine. Nevertheless, he managed to get a result. He stopped the bleeding by plugging the artery with it and was relieved to see that there was no further damage.

"I'll sew it up. Get Richard. "

Clark nodded and did as Alfred told him, knowing he was in good hands.

He had no trouble getting Dick back to the mansion. While waiting for Superman to arrive, he hid as indicated on the roof and waited. When the two men arrived, Alfred was still stitching Jason up.

"Alfred! How is he? "

"Mr. Clark has done a remarkable job. Master Jason will be fine. Are you hurt, Master Richard?"

"No, I'll be all right. Jason took the bullet for me. "

Alfred put down his tools and took a regenerating bandage from the Watchtower. He looked up and saw the gun the young man was holding. He raised an eyebrow, and Clark asked the question for him:

"A SIG 716 Patrol, seriously? The others only had M16s. "

"Jason likes to be heavily armed. I brought it back because it probably had his prints on it. "

Alfred checked Jason's wounds and bandaged another wound on his leg and shoulder. Then he motioned for Dick to come closer so he could tend to his wounds. Clark had seen that Dick had fought primarily with his bare hands. He'd had to flee and take refuge in the church. He groaned as he saw that Dick had a fresh wound in his ribs but that it was healing. His reaction drew attention to himself.

"Can you explain? "

The butler sat the acrobat down on another bed and made a few stitches on his eyebrow.

"To make a long story short, with the network I had infiltrated, we were supposed to receive a shipment of equipment at the old port. Except we got double-crossed and our cargo was destroyed, by dear Red Hood here. He was on the scene and he was targeted. He was in a bad spot so... I had to make a choice. The bastard almost killed me. We ran to the church and he tackled me to the ground to protect me, that's how he got shot. So I took his phone and texted you. "

Clark glanced at Todd, unconscious on the table. His clothes were soaked with blood, as were his and Dick's.

"You'll tell Bruce, I suppose. "

Clark and Alfred glanced at each other.

"Master Bruce is in Atlantic City. He won't be back for a while. But Master Jason had better stay here, and so had you. "

Dick gave Alfred a grateful look, then turned to Clark.

"I was supposed to have dinner tonight with Bruce. "

"Dinner with Bruce?! "

Dick gave his former butler a surprised look, then smiled.

"That's interesting. "

In any other situation, Clark might have rolled his eyes. But Jason and Dick had almost died if he hadn't intervened. He thought back to the day's events, to that fire and his forgotten phone. He could have lost them both. Clark cared about them a lot. He couldn't imagine how much pain their loss would cause Bruce and Alfred. He felt in his heart his need to protect them, but they were no longer stubborn teenagers. Richard and Jason were adults with very different paths, yet they were still close. Clark knew why. He was sure Alfred suspected as much.

"Jason will have to stay in bed for a while. I'll take care of Bruce. "

"Are you sure?" Dick asked. "Jason and Bruce aren't exactly on the best of terms... "

Clark didn't answer.

"I'll get your old rooms ready. Shall I count you in, Mr. Clark? "

The reporter was about to decline when Dick intervened.

"I think it would be a good thing for you to stay, Clark. I've never been very good at channeling Bruce. You'll be able to break the news to him better. "

"Then it's agreed," Alfred concluded immediately, and went back up to the mansion.

Clark hadn't even had a say in the matter. He wouldn't have to stay anyway. But a little bird told him that he would.

When Clark walked into the restaurant, his mind was completely blank. He never thought this was possible in his life. He was feeling so many emotions that he had completely blocked it out: he was totally afraid to see Bruce and was panicking about how to act around him. He had no idea whether to talk about the incident that had just happened or to behave normally. But he was unable to behave normally. He didn't even have his normal attitude.

He gave his jacket to the host who led him through the luxurious restaurant to Bruce. His stomach tightened as he approached. He was about ten minutes late and didn't have his things with him. Clark was afraid of being recognized: he didn't have his glasses.

He could see Alfred and Dick busy dressing him for the evening. Clark had been willing to forego the dinner, but the other two men had insisted that he go. In their opinion, Bruce needed to get out sometimes and have a social life, even if it was closely tied to his cape. He hadn't had a counterargument; he agreed with them.

Alfred had taken out of Bruce's things a pair of black pants and a simple dark gray polo shirt, and Dick had given him colored contacts to mask the blue in his eyes. But there was still the haircut to deal with, and the usual one didn't mask it enough. Never in his life would Clark have imagined that he would ever receive hair advice or even have his hair fixed by Alfred. At the time, he had thought it futile to take care of it knowing that he would be flying, but he had finally been able to fix it very easily. He had now the parting on the side and a part of his curls on the forehead.

He was afraid of looking ridiculous and even worse, of being recognized. But nobody paid any attention to him in the restaurant. He felt his cheeks flush when he saw Bruce waiting for him and their eyes met. Bruce's icy stare made him melt. Each of them was immersed in the other's gaze. Clark wondered what Bruce could see in it, with his colored lenses.

"Good evening, Bruce. "

"Good evening, Clark. That's... an unusual look. "

Clark felt himself blush even more and disappeared behind the menu card.

"Sorry for the delay. "

"I guess you've had a lot on your plate. I saw what you did for the fire. Nice work. "

"Thank you. "

He was more than a little tense. He knew that with Bruce's incredible observation, he would eventually figure it out. Clark had to think about how he was going to keep from lying to Bruce, without ruining dinner. The two things were going to be difficult to reconcile. By the time they ordered, Clark hadn't figured it out, and he no longer had the menu card to hide him.

"You're tense. "

And there it was, Bruce's first comment. Who had probably already noticed that he was wearing his own clothes, once again, and that on top of that, Clark was afraid that the polo shirt he was wearing would end up cracking in the evening from moving around too much. Across from him, Bruce continued to scrutinize him.

"I'm not comfortable wearing clothes that aren't mine. "

He saw Bruce flash a slight smile, which relaxed Clark, but made him blush even more. Bruce was just drop-dead gorgeous. He cleared his throat, trying to regain control of his emotions. He'd been doing nothing but blushing since he'd arrived.

"I think I saw it. Alfred is a good dresser. "

Clark looked down at his top. The whole outfit really showed him off. Then he understood why Alfred and Dick had been so adamant about him going to this dinner. Those sneaky little guys.

"When are you going back to Gotham? "

"Tomorrow morning, after one last meeting. What were you doing at the mansion? "

The reporter ran his hand through his hair. He was getting to the dreaded question. Then he smiled to relax Bruce and build up his courage.

"We'll talk about it later, if you like. It had been an exhausting day. "

Bruce raised an eyebrow.

"Do you want me to wait to find out what you were doing at my house? "

Clark saw an opportunity for humor.

"I've got something to keep Bruce Wayne waiting, don't I? Who says I wasn't here to see Alfred?"

Bruce smiled and played along as their entrances arrived.

"Assuming you had come to see him, what would it have been for? "

"Clothing advice! I've heard I need it! "

The billionaire let out a light laugh.

"It just doesn't make you look good. It's really... "

"Country guy ? "

"Country guy. "

The two men laughed together. This time Clark was relaxed and enjoying the moment.

"Good thing I don't wear shirts every day then. I would have ruined my sex appeal. "

"I wouldn't have said that," Bruce replied thoughtfully. "I'd say it gives you a certain charm. "

Flirtatious. It was clearly flirting. Clark wasn't insensitive to it.

"I haven't worn those shirts all my life. I'm sure you would have loved the way I dressed in high school. "

"Here, I'm curious. "

"Well, like all teenagers, I wore t-shirts. Well, I'll take a rain check on the originality of the colors. But I looked pretty good! "

"What has changed? "

"The Fortress got activated and I learned a lot. And then the suit... same colors, but the shirts, it's more economical. And I love these shirts! "

Bruce thought for a moment before remarking:

"It's true that in the pictures you often had blue and red clothes. Did you choose the colors of your costume yourself? "

Clark nodded.

"Not at all. That's a chance, huh? "

Bruce just smiled.

"You must have been bathed in these colors from birth. Some things never change. "

Clark shrugged. He'd thought about it, but he didn't really know if it had any impact. Then he wondered about Bruce, what it was.

"You weren't in the dark all the time, were you? "

He watched Bruce carefully as they changed plates for their meal. He saw that the waiter's intervention was more than welcome and that Bruce was suddenly embarrassed.

"The gray. I was wearing gray. "

Bruce wasn't lying to him, but he didn't really answer the question. Clark could also spot when people were skillfully dodging without lying.

"The college uniform doesn't count. So? "

"The blue. "

Clark grinned widely. He added:

"Those are two colors that bring out the color in your eyes. "

"You, too. "

There was silence as the two men ate their plates, each pensive. Clark broke the silence again, thinking aloud to himself.

"Maybe that's what Jason needs. Or green. "

Bruce had drop the conversation and didn't understand what Clark was saying.

"What are you talking about? "

Clark was totally confused. This was the part where he shouldn't goof off.

"To bring out the eye color. For Jason. Blue or green would be best. But a green approaching blue tones. "

Bruce tensed. Clark was venturing into a sensitive subject. But it was time to broach it, and he needed to do it gently. This was his chance to jump in.

"Why Jason specifically ? "

"You haven't seen Jason in a while, have you ? "

"I saw him a few months ago in Gotham. He was walking through town. "

Clark sighed in exasperation:

"Seeing him without his hood. Have a chat with him. "

"Jason and I don't talk. "

The Kryptonian put down his fork.

"Bruce, why won't you talk to him ? "

The billionaire put down his fork.

"I don't want to talk to you about it. "

"So who with ? "

"No one. "

It was then that Clark knew he was going to have to be really clever to bring Bruce Wayne out of his shell.

"I know you consider Jason lost, but he's very much alive. He's changed, the Lazarus pit has changed him, but he's still Jason, a boy you raised and mentored. You lost him once Bruce. Don't lose him a second time. You have a chance that no one else has, so you owe it to yourself to take it. Reconnect with Jay. Stop being confrontational and accept him as he is now, before it's too late. "

Bruce shut down completely. He lost his smile and sank back into his chair. Both of them had finished their plates. They remained silent for a long time. It seemed like a long time to their waiter. Clark took the initiative. He knew this dinner was over. He paid the bill and drew Bruce's attention back to him as he stood up.

"Let's go. "

The two men left the restaurant in this still tense situation. Outside, the city was still bustling with activity. Clark didn't know what Bruce was going to do, but he couldn't let him go. He looked around and saw a bench near a square. He took Bruce by the arm and led them there. The Bat followed him without reluctance. He was still pensive.

Clark watched Bruce's face, that hard, closed face he showed everyone. It hurt, it really hurt. He removed his colored lenses and placed his hand on the Bat's cheek to look at him.

"I didn't say that to hurt you, Bruce. I can only imagine your pain and guilt, but please don't let it eat away at you unnecessarily. Jason is still here. "

Bruce's eyes were beautiful. Clark could clearly see the inner battle going on inside him and it only made his gaze more vivid and beautiful. With the low light of the street, the shadow play on the Bat's face only made it more attractive. Was there any profile under which Bruce was not beautiful? The situation was clearly not conducive to what Clark wanted to do. It really wasn't. But he did. He leaned over and placed a kiss on Bruce's lips, before pulling away and removing his hand. Bruce watched him without reacting, but the Kryptonian saw a new sparkle in his eyes.

"You saw Jason today, didn't you? "

Clark nodded.

"Dick's cover is blown. Jason was in town. He took an M16 bullet to the abdomen and Dick contacted me in a hurry. I took them back to the Manor and don't worry, they're both fine. I operated on Jason with Alfred and he is now on IV in his room. They're both out of danger. "

Bruce was unmoved by the news. But he was only cold in appearance. He got up from the bench:

"We're going home now. "

Index

Jason Todd : He's the 2nd Robin. Under Bruce's training, Jason was beaten to death by the Joker. Bruce buried him and his death remains an open scar, despite the fact that, a few years later, he learns that Jason was resurrected by Ra's Al Ghul in the Lazarus Pit. This mystical pit has regenerative abilities (giving Ra's al Ghul an "immortal" life) but has the counterpart of rekindling the "darkness" in the soul of its users. Jason having died violently, his resurrection did not go very well. He became the "Red Hood"; an enemy of Batman who would later become an anti-hero. He will sometimes fight on the same side as the Batfamily.

Red Tornado : He's a robot able to control the air and has the particularity to generate tornadoes.