Avenging Justice:

Two Worlds Collide

Part XI

Earth, New York, New York City

Through the bright day a dexterous from leaped from a hidden crevice, on the mountain of a building. Twisting through the air, the figure threw out an arm, like a gymnast in mid-routine. Streams of "webbing" streamed out of their wrist and the hero pulled the strand taught. Just as quickly another shot out, but this one he rode into a downward arc, to maximize his velocity. Spider-Man was on the job.

Below three of New York's finest were chasing a car, which was speeding through the congested streets with no regard. Two bandits leaned out the car windows and attempted to dissuade the police, with bullet fire. One NYPD cruiser lost control, skidding around, before regaining traction. Another received three holes in the windshield, the police behind it cursing loudly at the near miss.

One bandit took aim again, lining up his shot. Only his pistol was yanked out of his hand, and his trigger finger felt like it had been ripped off. Looking down, he noticed the finger was still there, just very swollen. The second bandit in the backseat with him cried out, and he too was disarmed. They both looked up, trying to see what had taken their pistols, when something loud landed on the car roof.

"Don't mind me gentlemen," Spider-Man quipped, "but I need you to slow down. Ya know, traffic laws, human decency and all."

"Shoot him!" the driver yelled from the front. "It's the spider mook!"

"Mook?! Did you learn to talk from old 40's gangster movies?" Spider-Man asked as he pulled the first bandit out of the passenger rear seat.

Throwing the man up into the air, Spider-Man sent out a stream of webbing. One hit the bandit, the other attached to a nearby streetlight. Even before they left the bandit far behind, he had moved on to the other bandit in the back seat. That one shared the same fate as the first, to be found by New York's finest, safely swinging and ready to be booked. Spider-Man avoided killing, great responsibility and great power, and all.

Moving up to the front passenger, "Really, the only way you could date yourself more is to call me a Jabroni!" He pulled that bandit out, before she could find her weapon, and left her webbed to a nearby building. "I mean, I don't have anything against the Rock, but that is so the Aughts. You could even call it Aughty! Get it, because the millennium was known as the Aughts!" In response the driver tried to shoot him. "Everyone's a critic," he said as he jumped up.

Landing on the hood of the car, Spider-Man sent several stands of webbing the surrounding buildings. Attaching them to the car, he jumped up again, and this time savagely brought all his strength down on the front end. With the wheels acting as a fulcrum, and the power behind his downward kick, the car flipped. He shot off more stands, catching the car in mid-air and suspending it just inches off the ground.

The driver tried to get out, only to find the costumed hero's fist in his face. Knocked out, the driver was suspended safely for the police to find. Spider-Man swung off to find other crime to fight, knowing that the police still saw him as a dangerous nuisance. Part of that might change if papers and media outlets, like the Daily Bugle, quit calling him a menace. However, he wasn't in this for the celebrity or the adoration. No, he was living a lesson his Uncle Ben had tried to teach him so long ago.

Above him, another hero flew by, his colors were red and blue too. Main difference was the other hero was nearly indestructible, and got much better press. To the common New Yorker, they looked up at Spider-Man swinging and were awed. For a few minutes at least, before they moved on, that was just New York City. However, when Spider-Man looked up and saw Superman flying, the awe never left.

The Man of Steel was on his way to visit a sick child at Mount Sinai. His name was Jimmy, his last name wasn't Olson though. No, this was Jimmy Manteo, and he had late stage cancer. His family had written into the Daily Planet, wanting to arrange a meeting with Jimmy's hero, Superman. Of course, he couldn't refuse.

There were times he couldn't make all these requests, but he tried. Having super speed helped, but not always. He liked spending time with them, making them feel better, if just for a little bit. Sometimes that meant spending an hour or two, others, their conditions would only allow for a few minutes. He still went anyway, because for all his powers, it was his humanity that made him special.

Raised as a farm boy in Smallville, Kansas, his parents had taught him to value all life. He may have been adopted, but he knew of no better parents than the Kents. Hard work, perseverance, and humility had been instilled in him, since an early age. As he had grown, and his abilities increased, they kept him from losing himself.

When one could crush a truck at fourteen, dealing with bullies was hard. He had to learn that just because he could do something, it didn't mean he had to. It also meant he had to face things that he couldn't change, despite his powers. Friends had lost siblings, parents, and other friends. The young man named Clark Kent, sometimes could only hold his friends as they were in pain.

Lex Luthor accused him of being a god among men, of using his power to enforce his will. Lois Lane kept him honest too, as she reported with a laser focus. She saw him, the real him and not what the world saw. In her, he could say things that he couldn't to the rest of the world. She understood him, for he didn't want to enforce his will on anyone. He just wanted to make the world a better place, but by letting the people choose it.

That was why this was his most important task today. Hey may have rescued a boat stranded at sea in the morning, stopped a terrorist cell at midday, but this was the one that would stick with him. Children were different than adults, so young and in many ways, innocent. They were still learning, so many of their thoughts and actions came from a purer place.

He landed with a gentle touch, barely making a sound. He had hoped to come in without any press, but they would be coming. Whenever Superman was around, a story was afoot. The same could be said of any of the heroes of the world, he just stood out more. Of course, he wouldn't have thought like this, as his humbleness was nearly another power of his. Instead he walked through the roof door, and asked a nearby nurse for directions.

Minutes later, a deathly Ill Jimmy Mateo nearly burst from his bed. Pure excitement overwhelmed him, and for a brief moment, all his pain was gone. The boy's voice raised by a few octaves, and words came out a mile a minute. To Superman, it was the best thing in the world.

In the room with the sick child were his two parents and Jimmy's older sister. They looked like they hadn't had a good night's sleep in quite some time, and she looked the part of a distraught big sister. In her teens, she wore the worried expression with self-recriminating anger. Where the parents looked relieved that Superman had come, she had hostility in her eyes.

"I hope I'm not interrupting," Superman said in an upbeat voice. "A friend of mine said you were a big fan, and I just had to come see you. How are you doing, champ?"

"Dad, he called me champ!" the young boy exclaimed.

The youthful energy had returned to his frail form. The bald head from chemotherapy gleamed, and for the first time in days, had a normal flesh tone to it. Eyes shining, he fired off questions after question at the Man of Steel. Superman answered every one he could, patiently and with great care. Meanwhile the sister had retreated to a corner, and sat with her nose in her phone.

"Mr. Superman," the mother of Jimmy introduced her family, "This is my husband, Nicholas, my daughter, Isabella, and of course you know Jimmy. My name is Veronica, and I just…I have no words…Thank you for coming to see him."

Superman spoke compassionately, "It was my privilege to come here, and you don't need to call me mister."

"Jimmy is a huge fan of yours," the father, Nicholas explained. "At home he's got posters of you all over his room. In fact, he wants to be just like you when he grows up."

"Well Jimmy, I would love to see that," Superman said to the boy. "What do you like to do?"

Jimmy rattled off everything he loved, for the next half hour. He went over about seeing Superman on Youtube, rescuing some construction workers, for the first time. The boy was a member of the Superman club, of which he could thank Bibbo Bibbowski for. Jimmy even showed him the "Superman" shield that the club sent to its members.

It was based on the shield design on Superman's chest. He wondered what his Kryptonian parents would have thought of their family crest like this. Superman liked to think they would be honored. Their crest had taken on the same meaning here on Earth, that it had on Krypton, Hope.

It was around this time that the daughter, Isabella exploded, "Why are you here?! Do you think it does him any good? He's fighting for his life and you just walk in like you can fix it all. Well you can't!"

"Isabella!" her mother, Veronica admonished her. "That is no way to speak to.."

However, her daughter cut her off, "To Superman? This great hero, who won't even heal him?" Turning to the Man of Steel, "You are great at busting up robberies and being a strong man, but…"

"Isabella!" her father yelled at her. "That is quite enough!"

The teen girl wanted to scream more, but instead ran out of the room. Leaving behind her now distraught brother, and horrified parents, she fled away. Behind her, a shocked Superman recovered and started to redirect the family. Minutes later, he had them laughing, but there was a heaviness in the air now. The jovial atmosphere was more reserved, and even the boy seemed to shrink back into himself.

It was an hour later, that Isabella heard the door to the hospital's roof open up. Crunching boots let her know someone was walking towards her. Probably not her mother or father, they'd be too worried about their sick little boy. That thought made her scream internally. She didn't want to feel this way, she didn't want to feel all this pain and anger. Yet, it was here, all she felt recently.

"Go away," she yelled, hoping he would.

Instead Superman sat beside her, "Are you okay?"

She laughed, "I'm the one who's well, why wouldn't I be?" There was more snark than she wanted in that, but she had a hard time adding that guilt to the rest she already carried.

"It's hard to see someone you love going through that much pain," he said gently. "I know it hurts to be powerless to stop those you care about from being in pain."

She turned on him, "What would you know about that? You're some big hero. You can fly, you don't get sick, and you can do whatever you want. So, why don't you just go back down there and heal my brother!"

He didn't rise to her venomous words, "If I could heal him, I would. I hate to see anyone in pain. There are somethings even I can't do, and fixing cancer is one of them."

"Some use you are then," she returned to her sullen position, head hung low.

Superman placed his hand on her back, "People like to trade stories of my strength, and yet you and your family have greater strength than I could ever claim. You're fighting something that is trying to kill your brother, and you do it without any of my abilities. You face it as a family, and I think that is something rather special."

Isabella felt her emotions testing the dam she had them behind. Threatening to spill over, she reached inward, trying with pure force of will to push them back down. Yet, as he spoke and didn't get angry with her, the wall failed. She felt tears race down her cheeks and soon she was a bawling mess. What she didn't expect was for him to pull her close, and how warm he was.

"It's all my fault," she sobbed. "He got sick because of me."

Superman held her tighter, "I doubt that."

She sobbed louder, "It is. He's such a pain, always getting into my things. I get so angry with him, and wish he'd just go away. Well, I got my wish, he's dying and now I'd trade everything to get him back."

Superman said, "This isn't your fault. We all have days where our family drives us crazy and gets on our last nerve. It is normal, especially as you become the woman you are meant to be. Everyone goes through these growing pains, but in the end it is our family that sees us through. What I think your brother sees, is a sister whose stood by him, even as he got sicker and sicker."

"You think so?" she said, starting to dry her eyes.

He replied back simply, "Yeah, and I think your parents see it too. They have been so focused on getting him better, it must feel like you are invisible to them. Truth is, they probably feel bad at how they've had to let you grow up so fast. Yet, I bet they are very proud of you. It's not easy to go through this at any age, much less when trying to figure out who you are."

For the first time that night, she smiled, "I didn't expect you to be like this."

"What's that?" Superman asked.

She looked up at him, red eyes gleaming with gratefulness, "So human. My brother has told me all about you. I know you're not from around here, but yet, you're so human."

"I had good parents," he replied back. "You have good ones too, why don't we go back inside and let them know you're okay."

He led her back to her brother's room. Her parents were there, and seeing her, rushed forward to embrace her. She started to cry again, ugly crying, but this time didn't care. She let it all out, not holding anything back. For so long she had tried to be the perfect daughter, not stir things up because of her brother's sickness. It felt good to let it all out.

"Look, Bella, I'm sorry we've been neglecting you," her mother said. "It's just with the cancer and work, and we just…"

"Mom, it's okay," Isabella replied. "I understand."

"Yes, but you deserve better," her father said. "We're going to try to pay more attention to you as well. You've just been so mature, we forgot that you needed us too."

She hugged them both tightly before turning to Superman, who was leaving. She ran over to him, and stopped him. He looked curiously at her, wondering what she needed, what she wanted. Isabella answered this by hugging him tightly.

"Thank you," she remorsefully said. "I am also sorry for acting like an ungrateful brat earlier."

Superman replied back, "Nothing to be sorry for. I'm glad I could come by and see him. He's a fighter, and I'd like to check up on him later, if that is okay."

"I think we'd like that," Isabella said.

He left, flying back off towards Metropolis. The boy and his family were in his thoughts, and he did wish that he could fix all of their ills. He was glad that he could at least give them the little bit that he had. In the end, that was all that mattered. He had done what he could and proved that hero was more than just might and powers.

The next day, Isabella walked into her school for the first time in a long time, at peace. She was still worried about her brother, and her parents. Yet, she felt like she could engage with her friends, without feeling guilty. It was a new day, and one to live.

Rushing off to class, she held her books closer to her blue shirt. This was a new one, bought the previous night. In the center was a red shield with a golden inner background. A red "S" was centered inside. She had shown it off to her brother, and he'd approved of it. Isabella understood why he loved of Superman, now she shared that love.