It goes like this: Bruce Wayne's parents are gunned down in the streets of Metropolis in broad daylight. Two of Metropolis' most important family dead in an instant, and Alexander Luthor Sr. suddenly finds himself the new top dog in the ever-changing world of tomorrow.
Somehow, the killer still manages to get away.
Bruce Wayne sits and shock and watches as his entire life collapses in an alleyway 3:20 in the afternoon. The Waynes had just came back from a movie and lunch with friends when they had been shot dead. It wasn't dramatic. It wasn't one of those heart-wrentching cliches you saw in movies.
It was a stupid death, unbefitting, unneccessary, and Bruce Wayne is fucking terrifed.
he police try. They do. They fail. And eventually, they stop investigating. Eventually, they stop reporting. Eventually, they stop caring. It doesn't even give the benefit of rain when Thomas and Martha's funeral arrives. Bruce's tears are undisguised on his face, quiet sobbing drowned out in an otherwise beautiful summer.
It isn't fair, perhaps, that other children play with raindrops and hoses and ice cream. It isn't fair that Bruce sits by himself- life wrenched from him within a second in a world that couldn't bother to care. Bruce stares at the buildings his parents left him, stares at the gravestones covering the tauntingly fresh grass.
Bruce Wayne packs his bags, and leaves town. He won't come back for some time.
It goes like this: Clark Kent takes one look at Gotham, and decides that this is a city in need of protection.
It's dark, a lack of sunlight, too much lead. Virtually an entire counterpoint to what makes him a superhero, perhaps. But it needs his help. All of it.
That is how it begins.
Like many times, Gotham doesn't care primarily about the new superbeing swooping about their city. Just another criminal.
A myth, perhaps, caused by pollution and gasses and all those other chemicals around. But, you see, Superman isn't a criminal. And he's effective. Tends to be, when you're bulletproof.
Hard to rob places when you're local superbeing can hear you a mile away.
Or when they could literally slice your head off with lasers.
Clark Kent has far less luck.
Fighting crime is one thing. Rooting out the Falcones and Maronis and the Cobblepots out of their corruption?
Good luck with that.
Clark is far from the first naive journalist with dreams of cleaning out a city.
And say what you will about the GCPD.
They have Gordon.
Clark has a pen and a computer and thirteen assassians out for his head on the first month.
So.
Fuck the Gotham Gazette.
( If he can't get help in Gotham, he's going to get help elsewhere. )
Metropolis likes to adamently insist that it is a perfect city where nothing ever goes wrong.
Not to say that regular crime doesn't happen there, obviously.
But compared to cities like Gotham? Who get run over with metahumans every other week? Who're depending on a literal alien for protection?
Yeah, Metropolis doesn't stand a chance.
Bruce Wayne comes back with little to no fanfare. Not much to say.
Welcome back, didn't even notice you were gone, hey did you see the latest LexCorp product-
To the outside observer, it would be a shock as to how Metropolis could possibly think itself to be morally superior when literally everything was controlled by one company.
And a bald one, at that.
Change of plans.
As one might expect, coming back after a good ten years overseas lead to a lot of questions. As one might suspect, regaining control of ones' company after ten years overseas not only screams of questions and if he was competent or not, it also lead to a lot of hey how're you planning on getting on Luthor's level-
Lots of questions to be answered.
Sometimes, Bruce really hated journalists
" Mr. Wayne- Mr. Wayne!"
The loud shouting of the crowd blended into each other, chattering as a mass of bodies and cameras clicked and shot out from the crowd.
Clark huffed slightly.
It wasn't exactly often that he went outside Gotham for news, but for all his dramatics, Wayne was new, and everyone was fairly curious to see what he would do, now that he'd come back to find LexCorp at the top instead of Wayne Industries.
" He's late." A voice said beside him.
Clark stayed still for a moment before suddenly realizing that he was being prompted into a conversation.
" I'm sure there's a good reason," he acknowledged turning around. He stopped short. " I'm sorry, can I ask for your name?"
The woman had brown hair and dark eyes and a notepad in her hand that was slightly crinkled and-
"- Lois Lane, Daily Planet."
And she was smiling at him.
Clark glanced at her hand, shaking it firmly. He let himself smile.
" Clark Kent, Gotham Gazette."
" Oh- what's a Gothamite doing here in Metropolis?"
" Same thing as you-" he said. " Reporting. I read your work."
Lois paused. She let out a laugh — a small one. " I didn't know I was being read all the way in Gotham."
" It's honestly better than reading the home news." Clark admitted. " Much less chances of being corrupt."
" Not a fan of your coworkers?"
" Not a fan of bribery or mobs-" Probably would've continued having a conversation, if the curtains hadn't chosen right then to open.
Clark strained fully alert in order to catch a glimpse at the newest phenomona of Metropolis.
He saw blue eyes.
Caught them, for a second.
And just like that, Bruce tore his gaze away and moved to speak.
To the outside eye, Oliver Queen had a lot more suspicion going around as to whether he was a vigilante or not.
Getting trapped on an island was straight out of a horror novel, for one.
Coming back a changed man? Yeah, no one would bat an eye if one day Oliver Queen just came out to say- oh, yeah, I fight crime roleplaying as Robin Hood.
As far as anyone else knew, Bruce Wayne had spent ten years out of the public eye studying in private schools and travelling around in a monastery.
The last part was kind of true.
Ra's al Ghul did in fact run a monastery. It just didn't have any monks.
Or religious officials at all.
Either ways- the point was, LexCorp had been trying to scoop up with Queen Industries for the last five years, and to see Bruce Wayne and Oliver Queen hit it off and strike a deal within the first year of Bruce coming back?
That was shocking.
Oliver clapped his hand over Bruce's back, gripping onto his shoulder. His right hand swung the glass of liquor in a drunken fashion.
It would be more effective if said glass was actually being drunk instead of simply being thrown around like a monologuing villain.
"- should've seen him, Bruce!" Oliver cackled. " Red in the face. Amazing. Splendid. Should've taken a picture of him, that monopolizing capitalist ass."
" How much did you drink?" Bruce muttered, knowing full well the answer was- none, Oliver Queen was just feeling dramatic.
Oliver wiped tears from his eyes, still smiling. " Oh, and I went on Twitter the other day. Half the world is certain that we're fucking."
" With?"
" No, just fucking." Oliver clarified unnecessarily, because Bruce was not, in fact, dumb as a doorknob.
" Hm." Do you want me to do anything?
" Nah," Oliver said. It was amazing how much he could pick up with the barest of words. " Honestly, from an outside perspective, it is kind of weird."
He took a sip of the champagne, grimaced, and muttered a 'so that's why you don't let alcohol go flat'. Then, " So, how many other people know about your nighttime hobby anyways?"
" You and Alfred." Bruce muttered calmly, pacing around the room. No reason. Just wanted to mess up Oliver's perfectly fine carpet, Oliver thought.
" Ah, yes. And if I tell anyone, you tell on me." He frowned. " I feel like I should be honored to be in such a circle of trust, but I just feel really weird knowing that my business partner's a furry."
Bruce turned to glare at him. " Ollie."
" Right, of course. Weird knowing that my business partner's a crimefighter with a questionable interest in animals."
" It's symbolic."
" Of course."
Oliver coughed, pinned his nose, and chugged down as much of the drink as he could.
" Do you think Luthor cosplays in his spare time, or does he just sit back and think of new ways to screw over the middle class?"
Putting aside the issue of the Falcones and Maronis, the other villains are far more easy to deal with.
They're humans against a Kryptonian after all. But either ways, things are more or less fine. He's working more and more on the Falcones' mob family, and he's already got the majority of Oswald Cobblepot's top officers and Cobblepot himself in jail, so there's progress.
Then Gotham gets attacked by a contagious virus.
Then the bridges all blow up.
And General Zod wipes out a quarter of Gotham.
And.
The government's solution is apparently to declare the entire city No-Man's Land, which ends up throwing all of Clark Kent's hard work away because suddenly the mob increases by 50%.
Fantastic. Utterly fantastic.
Bruce Wayne absolutely hates Lex Luthor.
Braniac? Braniac is just ridiculous. And not in the fun way.
" Are you kidding me."
It starts when Bruce- Batman, finds out about the latest string of murders in LexCorp Chemicals. Normally, he wouldn't care too much. But its 14 murders in one subsection of a company, and that brings a lot of questions and concerns to Bruce's mind.
Bruce wouldn't put it past Luthor for unethical working practices.
But.
Well, to put it simply, there is no amount of radiation or illegal labor practices that can make a person's brain leak out of their ears and have their skin turn green with pink bulbous growths printed onto their heads.
Which meant he had to investigate.
Which meant he was currently tied up with tubes in front of an alien with a collection addiction.
And to make matters worse-
" To be honest, I hadn't expected you to be real."
Lex Luthor.
" Hm," He grunted out in response. " You made a deal with a supervillain."
" And I most certainly learned my lesson." Lex drawled, eyeing him calmly. " I don't suppose you would to something all nice and brave to get us out, will you?"
" Hm."
" Screwed?"
Did people really still expect him to go against a damn alien and win?
Hard to ignore a spaceship over a damn city, even if it was a few hundred miles away.
" Hell." Clark said, voice fading quickly in the screaming crowd. The large ship was glowing- pink and gray and large, metal. Bricks crashed down.
" Reporting, Gotham?"
" Lois?" He turned around. " Did- shouldn't- "
" So should you," she interrupted quickly. " What's a Gothamite like you doing here?"
Clark swallowed. Blank.
" I-" Stopped. " I'm from Smallville, actually."
" And we're both going to become Metropolis dirt if we stay here." Lois reached out to grab at his arm. " Come on."
Clark hesitated. Glanced up.
Fucked.
How do you beat up an alien?
You get another alien, as it is.
Bruce isn't speaking- thank God, Lex isn't speaking either.
"Did you not believe in Superman either." Bruce mutters intelligently towards Lex.
There's a scoff. "Don't trust him." He responds, watching the battle as it unfolds. Bruce watches from his restraints as another slice of red laser light streaks past him.
He's trying his best not to hit either of them. Nice.
" So."
Superman cocked his head calmly.
" You're the Bat vigilante of Metropolis."
" It's an interesting aesthetic." Batman responds casually, trying to adjust his position in Superman's arm. He twitched. " You gave us quite the scare when you were in Gotham. Thought you were another supervillain."
He let out a laugh in the air. A flick of hair flew between his eyes. " You aren't, either. No powers?"
" Private information."
" Please-" Superman said as they landed, knocking air quickly out of Batman's lungs. " Eyes. You're human."
" What were you doing here?" Batman demanded.
" Large, imposing alien. Figured I help you out." Bruce twitched. Superman paused for a moment, awkwardly.
" Superman." He says, holding out his hand, as though Bruce didn't-
He pauses. Swallows. His throat is dry.
" Batman." He says, calmly, taking Superman's hand in his own.
For an alien, his skin is suprisingly warm through Bruce's gloves.
Batman has trained with Ra's before. He keeps tabs on the League of Assassians, of course. Has to.
Still, they're in Tibet and Bruce is in Metropolis, so they don't really come across each other often- save for, well, assassinations, obviously.
He sees Talia when she gets hired to Lexcorp management. All over the newspapers.
Bruce stares at it without stop. He forces his expression to stay blank. Thousands of worries swarm his brain, and he half-wants to call Oliver, just in case, if he didn't know for sure what Green Arrow's response would be.
He keeps a track on LexCorp for a while. Meets with Lex.
Bruce gauges his expresson cautiously the entire night.
He doesn't know Bruce's alter ego.
That doesn't mean the worry is still there.
Still doesn't know what Ra's is here for, or for that matter, Talia.
" Has it ever occured to you, that I wanted to step out of his shadow for a while?" Talia says, when Bruce finally reaches out to her.
There's an exasperated smile playing over her lips, and her eyes are warm, if not judgamental.
" Forgive me for being worried."
" Beloved…"
Haly's Circus passes through Metropolis. They were in Gotham, previously, as Bruce later found out.
Too late.
Bruce has known Superman for a year, when Haly's happens.
Superman sends a text- something about suspecting something going on in the circus, not much, so Bruce doesn't mind. Hfe goes to the show to watch out, not much to see -
They fall.
The screams start before they even hit the ground, Bruce's eyes widen as the crowd leaps upright just as Mary's hands slip and the rope cracks and breaks-
Richard Grayson is a small kid. Acrobat. He's angry, too. Vengeful and idealistic and determined. And very eager.
Bruce helps him design uniforms.
Dick is adament about keeping the Red-Green-Yellow color scheme.
Bruce is adament about keeping his pants on.
" You will get a cold." Bruce says once Dick pushes him to his final line of defense. Dick pouts angrily.' Bruce continues. " And it's easier to protect yourself when you have clothes on."
They reach a compromise.
Bruce lets Dick wear green panties-lookalikes.
Dick has to wear skin-colored, electrically charged leggings underneath.
It's an odd compromise.
It does its job.
After Robin, Bruce has never regretted telling Oliver his identity more.
After Speedy, Bruce has never been more happy that he did so.
At the end of the day, Superman doesn't have to worry so much about rogues.
He does have to worry however about the newest branch of the Maroni crime family that's come to light, and the warehouse that just got unloaded with 100,000 pounds of cocaine stuffed inside there, ready to be shipped.
It's not enought to incarcerate Maroni himself, but it will get rid of a good half of his lieutenants.
If he can get them to trial without all the witnesses dying.
He also, apparently, has to worry about 10-year olds trying to jack the tires off his car.
" Hey." Clark says amiably.
The kid shoots up, instantly. He's wearing red with a black jacket.
Wait, maybe he isn't ten.
Clark narrows his eyes, flicking his vision.
" Eleven year olds shouldn't be stealing tires." Clark says.
" Who says I'm stealing tires?"
Clark pauses, and suddenly, he feels very compelled to say- " What's the tire iron for?"
The boy pauses. His eyes dart from unde his black, grimy hair.
His amusement must show on his face, because one moment, The boy's stepping back from him, and the other, he's throwing the iron abruptly at him.
Well, he wasn't expec-
Clark winces as he snatched it out of the air, fingers accidentally crushing it in his fist.
" That's not nice." he says, as the boy runs off.
Clark contemplates his choices.
He's not letting a preteen wander the streets alone like that.
And he really, really needs that tire.
" You have a friend?" Gotham and the Daily Planet don't work together often, but when they do, Clark is sure to find Lois. Jason sits beside him proudly, gulping down his coke.
" He's my son." Clark says for simplicity and so he can see Lois' face twist into an expression Clark can't quite place. " I adopted him when he tried to steal my tires."
Lois gives out a choke. " You're serious?"
"Very." Jason pipes up.
Lois gives him an absentminded pat on the arm. She blinks. " Smallville- oh my God. Five months. Five months and you adopt a kid." she shakes her head, snorting. " What else do you get up to without me knowing?"
Jason grins cheekily at him.
Clark admires his restraint to not give a clumsy wink.
" It's the Gotham in me I suppose."
" Gotham makes you spontaneously adopt?"
Clark takes a long sip of his coke.
The bubbles already fizzed out by the time he drinks it.
" Yes." he responds.
Jason really wants to watch him laser people.
" You can freaking fly!" Jason says giddily. " Can I see? Can I see?"
Clark sighed.
" There is a reason why most experts say to not get children until you have reached your thirties, at least."
Bruce says, matter of factly.
" You have Dick, Bruce. And you let him fight crime with you."
Bruce pauses.
" He's fourteen. He's fine."
Clark turns his head slowly, incredulously. His left eyebrow raises to his hairline.
Bruce continues.
" His words. Not mine." Pause. " And certainly not Alfred's."
Eventually, Clark manages to get close enough to Bruce to ask if they could introduce Dick and Jason to each other.
Bruce asked if he could introduce another vigilante kid to them as well.
Apparently, Star City's own Green Arrow did indeed have his own sidekick, Speedy.
And apparently, they were close together enough so that Bruce could invite him over for playdates with Dick. And Jason.
Clark tried his best to pretend he wasn't upset.
" I can't believe all you are heroes!" Jason complains. He's more than giddy to be in their prescence, and Roy likes to take that as an ego boost. " Clark won't let me join him."
" That's probably because you're not old enough." Robin says.
Roy, as always, tries to ignore the fact that he's wearing flesh-colored leggings under his underwear.
Ick.
" I'm twelve!" Jason says.
" Yeah, but you're not a teenager, like Robin and I." Roy says. He forces out the 'I' so that Dick can't find a reason to scold him.
Dick does that.
" Well, Superman is way cooler than all of your dads."
" He's not my dad." Dick says.
" You live in the same house, though." Jason says.
" Foster parent."
" So he's still your parent?"
" Foster." Dick corrects.
Jason stares at him in confusion, and then turns to Roy. " Superman doesn't know your hero. Does he have any powers?"
" Nope. Just a regular old schmuck like all of us."
" Wow. How'd you end up with him? I know Robin came from the circus, but what about you?"
Roy waved his hand. " Long story."
Jason leaned in. " What about it?"
Roy grinned. " Not telling?"
" What?" Jason complained.
" His father was a forest ranger." Dick interjected. " Then when he died, he went to live with a Navajo medicine chief."
" And when the medicine chief died he went to live with Green Arrow?"
Robin nodded solemnly. " And we're all waiting for the day for him to die as well."
" Amen to that." Roy agreeed. He turned to Jason.
" How about you? How'd you catch Superman's eye?"
Jason grinned, shooting up. His eyes gleamed. " I jacked off his care tires!"
" You what off his car tires." Roy couldn't help himself.
Robin smacked him instantly. " Roy!" he hissed.
Jason continued. " They he tried to take me to the police or back home, but I'm an orphan, and the police suck, so he ended up having to adopt me."
Roy nodded. " Are you happy?"
" I get to go to school."
" First time I ever heard that said positively." Robin remarked.
" You don't go to school?"
" No, I stay in a large manor swinging on chandeliers, feasting on food, and punching criminals in the face in typical rich boy fashion."
" They teach weird things where you guys live."
Roy and Dick both nodded solemnly.
" Yup." They said in agreement.
" Weird things."