Lois sat in the hospital room. When word had came in that Superman was in the hospital, she'd volunteered to go down immediately. It was funny; somehow, she'd been shocked when she saw him lying there without his shirt. She didn't know what she'd expected to see, but the appearance of another man wasn't on the list.
It was times like this she could forget he was an alien. Then he'd take to the sky, fire in his eyes, quite literally, and wipe out a group of killer robots or something like that with extreme prejudice.
Of course, there was talk of there having been a talking Gorilla he killed earlier in the day, but she knew better. He wouldn't do that. And if he did, he'd had good reason. He was Superman. He stood for truth, justice, all that other crap.
If she was honest, the only other guy who came close to as virtuous was Clark. There'd been a point where she'd thought Clark Kent and Superman were one and the same. Seeing them together had set that theory straight. Though the explanation of Superman having imprinted on Clark's appearance sounded like something from a bad sci-fi fan fiction, given his nature, she was willing to buy it.
There was a cold breeze behind her. She turned, seeing the window open. She moved to it, closing it. She could've sworn it was closed five minutes ago. She turned back to his bedside and almost screamed in shock.
Stood there, black cape trailing along the floor, gunmetal grey armour shining slightly in places, with what looked like mechanical segments on the gauntlets, the long pointed ears on top of his black cowl bringing his height to somewhere between six and a half and seven feet, was Batman.
"Jesus Christ, what are you doing here?" She asked, Batman ignoring her "I'm talking to you, tall dark and brooding!"
"And I'm ignoring you, short, irritating and rooty!" Batman growled back in retort, before elaborating "Call your hairdresser. Your roots are showing. Badly."
"I know. I called him this morning." She said "I'm going to ask again, what are you doing here?"
"Checking in on a friend." He said, turning to her and growling "Leave."
"You going to make me?" She asked, narrowing her eyes "I'm a black belt, you know. And an army brat! Easily enough to take on some guy in a Halloween costume."
"Cute." He replied with a smirk, before grabbing her by the arm and escorting her to the door "Give us five minutes."
Before she could reply, he slammed the door in her face and locked it. She stood there annoyed for a moment before an idea dawned on her. She smirked before beginning to wander down the hall to the roof access.
...
Bruce stood over Clark's bed. He'd forgotten what it was like to see the Kryptonian so weak. The last, and so far only, other time it had happened was on Apokolips over a year ago.
He picked up the chart at the end of the bed, quickly skim reading it before putting it back down. The condition Clark was in was stable, though had some irregularities; he displayed lowered blood sugar and salt levels, dehydration and a complete lack of iron in his blood, though that final point may have been down to his physiology lacking it in the first place, Bruce had never really thought about that before.
Maybe he'd look into the physiological strengths and weaknesses of the other members of the Justice League later, make sure he had notes on how to counter those weaknesses. Or exploit them if need be; always better to be too prepared than not prepared enough.
"You know, it's rude to sneak up on people." Bruce heard from the bed, looking down to see Clark smiling weakly at him "You didn't need to come all the way from Gotham just to check I was feeling okay. Chocolates would've been fine."
"I didn't." Bruce said "I was already in the neighbourhood. Have been for the last week."
"You've been in town for a week?" Clark asked "Why?"
"I was tracking someone." Bruce replied simply, pressing a control on his gauntlet, causing the blades to slide into a position so they were flush against his forearms and his cape slid up into the back panel of his suit "I heard the news over the Watchtower comm. link. Rayner was going to come down, but I told him not to bother."
"You're too harsh on Kyle. Cut the newbie some slack." Clark said with a small grin "Who were you tracking? Big creepy pink guy?"
"No." Bruce growled "Skinny psychotic clown in a purple suit."
"Oh." Clark said quietly as he stood up, picking up the top half of his costume, putting it on "Him."
"Yeah, him." Bruce said "He wanted something here in Metropolis. Joker's smart, he wouldn't have come here without cause."
"Maybe he wanted to meet the guy who attacked me." Clark questioned "God, it was like I was being drained by some kind of Parasite..."
"It wasn't that. He only showed up today." Bruce said "I had Robin check the feeds in Metropolis for symptoms like yours. There were three in Luthorcorp earlier on today, followed swiftly by attempts to help them before they died."
Clark grimaced. Bruce didn't need to be a psychic like J'onn was to see what the Kryptonian was thinking. It was doubtful that Luthorcorp's owner, Lex Luthor, would've actually tried to help those people. Hell, after his Metallo experiment a couple of years ago, the result of which was now in the Watchtower Prisoner Facility, and the transmission they'd traced from Darkseid to him during the Apokolips invasion, Bruce wouldn't be surprised if he'd orchestrated this Parasite. After all, he'd never liked people upstaging him, and Superman certainly did that on a regular basis.
"You think Lex is responsible." Clark said finally.
It was a statement, not a question. Bruce and Lex had history. Their Father's had been friends, and Lionel Luthor had visited Bruce the night he'd died to congratulate him on his graduation. That night, his jet had gone down, with the pilot having bailed out, only to have had his chute cut. Bruce had tried investigating years later, in his early days as Batman, and all roads led to Lex. There'd never been enough hard evidence for him to act though. Bruce took that as a personal matter, someone having possibly outwitted him. Hell, in a lot of ways, Bruce and Lex were alike, most notably; they were obsessive. However, whilst Lex was obsessed with power, Bruce was obsessed with justice. He saw the fact that Lex hadn't been brought to justice as a personal affront.
"So what's the plan?" Clark asked "You're the one who always has one. Except on Apokolips, I think your plan there was not to come back."
"I'll tell you my plan there when we have time." Bruce said, picking up a surgical tray "First, I want you to hit this. Don't worry about pulling the punch, my suit has shock absorbers that should counter it enough."
"Okay, one second." Clark said, pulling out the drip on his hand and wincing "Guess that hurts, super or not."
Clark spun quicker than Bruce could see but slower than normal, before punching the tray. A small dent was formed, as Clark gripped his hand in pain.
"I told you not to pull your punch!" Bruce growled.
"I didn't." Clark said "And I was slower than normal. My powers aren't working, not properly."
"Must be a side effect of Parasite's feeding..." Bruce said, moving to the window "Come on."
"What?" Clark asked "Bruce, if I can't even do any real damage to a tin tray. What if I can't fly?"
"Clark, who said anything about you flying?" Bruce said, pressing a control on his belt, a line lowering down "I brought a ride."
"I hate you sometimes, Wayne." Clark said, rolling his eyes.
"I know, Kent." Bruce replied with a smirk.
Clark grimaced. He hated Bruce's Batwing. It was so cramped.
He sighed before grabbing one side of the bar at the end of the line, Bruce pressing a control, both of them being pulled upwards.
As they went out, Lois came in, the glass she'd been using to listen through the door still in her hand. Her face was an expression of shock.
"Oh my god." She said quietly to herself in shock "I've been drooling over Clark Kent and used to date Batman..."
...
Clark stood in the middle of the warehouse. Bruce was opposite him, the cowl having been removed from his costume. Bruce slowly walked around the room.
"Your powers aren't working, Clark, so we need to find another way for you to be useful." He said "Other than bait for Parasite, I can't think of any way you can help at the moment. I want you to come at me with everything you've got."
"You sure?" Clark asked "I'm still a bit stronger and faster than any Human."
"Trust me." Bruce said, a small smirk on his face, Clark charging him, Bruce sidestepping before elbowing Clark in the back of the neck, taking him to the ground "Sloppy. Again!"
"Is this what you put Robin through?" Clark asked, chagrining Bruce again, once again having his strike countered, tasting blood in his mouth "You should be arrested for child cruelty."
"He's 19." Bruce retorted "Again!"
The pair continued the exercise for the next half an hour, each time having similar results, each time Clark getting a little more injured and each time Bruce remaining untouched.
However, each time, Bruce appeared to be moving marginally slower. Finally, Clark charged Bruce, Bruce hardly moving as Clark came running at him. As Clark reached him, he grabbed Bruce by the arm and flipped him to the floor.
"Okay, so your speed's picking up." Bruce said as Clark helped him up, Bruce pressing a control on his gauntlet, causing a large punching bag to be lowered "Hit it, hard as you can."
Clark complied. He swung for the punch bag, hard as he could, sending it flying, embedding itself in the wall. As he hit it, Clark doubled over, clutching his hand in pain. He looked down, seeing it bloodied and mangled. Bruce quickly escorted him over to a table with a series of medical instruments, putting a silver and black device over the hand.
"Your strength and speed might be back, but you're still as vulnerable as the rest of us." Bruce said, observing the x-ray being displayed on his monitor "You've broken every bone in your hand. Now, it's already started to heal, but it's not set properly. I'm sorry about this."
"About what?" Clark asked as Bruce removed Clark's hand from the machine before slamming his fist down on it, Clark yelling out in pain.
...
Jack Marshall sat at his desk in Metropolis National Bank. It was the tail end of a very long day, and he couldn't wait to get home. He sipped his coffee as he reviewed the work he'd done for the day; a dozen low interest loans, a few mortgages and one high interest loan. All in all, a nice commission coming his way come bonus time.
He closed down his computer, standing up and putting on his jacket. His wife would probably be debating whether or not to call him to complain about his working late right about now, and he was determined not to give her one more reason for the affair they both knew she was having with her yoga instructor. He'd probably be angrier about that. Except her yoga instructor was a 24 year old blonde named Marie who reminded him of his niece.
He began to walk out, being struck in the face by the doors to the bank as he went to reach for them, falling to the floor. He looked up in time to see the man in the purple suit with a yellow shirt and green bowtie with bleach white skin, green hair and a smile cut into his face walk in, smile broadly at him and then shoot him in the face.
...
"Ladies and gentlemen, this is a good old fashioned stick up!" Joker said as he walked in, shooting one of the tellers in the chest "Woops, butter fingers! Now, someone please hit that lovely silent alarm. I have a friend who's hungry for a situation."
Joker gestured behind him with a maniacal laugh to the figure in the brown trenchcoat that had walked in with him. The figure shrugged off the coat, revealing Parasite, gasps of shock and horror coming from various people.
"Now, here's what we want..." Joker began as he shot one more teller "I hope someone's taking notes..."
...
So, next chapter will be the penultimate part of the first part of this volume. Hope you've enjoyed this one. R&R, please, no flames. B.