Chapter Two: The Part Where It All Begins
"What?" Jon Kent eyed the boy standing before him with contempt.
"Little Bruce is developing powers similar to yours." Lois explained once more. "And since you have such excellent control over your abilities, Galatea, Dick and I have decided that it would be best for you to teach him some control."
"Why can't Kara do it?" Jon complained. "She's been doing this longer than I have!"
"Kara is busy with her heroic duties, and can't keep an eye on Little Bruce throughout the day like you can."
"But I can't!" Jon uttered. "He lives in a whole different state and-" The boy froze, a look of terror flashing across his face. "Oh no…"
"That's right. For the time being, we've decided that it would be best if Little Bruce stayed with us, here on the farm." Lois nodded. "He'll be temporarily transferring to Smallville Middle School, and because of certain connections that I have, I've been able to guarantee that you'll have all the same classes."
"This is so not fair!" Jon shouted in anguish. "I don't want this retard moving into my house!"
"Jonathon Kent!" Lois snapped, her eyes glaring. "That is not how you will speak about our new guest. You have no choice in the matter. He is staying with us for the time being, you will be nice to him, and you will help him control his abilities."
"He can barely learn to tie his shoes! How am I supposed to teach him to shoot lasers out of his eyes and defy gravity?"
"Without complaint, that's how." Lois glared. "Or else there will be consequences."
"Fine." Jon sighed in defeat, shoving his hands into the pockets of his faded blue jeans. He looked to Little Bruce with a frown. "Hey."
"Hi." Smiled LB, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Jon had just insulted him, even though he'd been watching the whole exchange. His smile was an innocent one, genuinely happy and full of warmth. His eyes were an electrifying blue color, and always seemed alive with energy. His tangle of messy, dirty-blond hair hung loosely around his head, complimenting the rest of his figure. While for most of his life he'd been underweight and scrawny, he'd recently began to develop muscle at extremely fast rates, and now possessed a borderline six-pack at just fourteen years old.
That had come along with his powers. The powers would show up sporadically, with no warning and absolutely no control. Though his parents, and most other adults, referred to him by his full name, Little Bruce, he found it annoying and preferred to simply go by LB. The first time he'd ever met Jon Kent, Jon had quickly decided that it must stand for "little bitch." And that was how Jon had referred to him ever since, except in the presence of his mother of course.
LB turned around to face his mother and father. "Bye guys." He said cheerfully.
"See ya' kid." Dick patted his son on the shoulder. "Call us every night, ok?"
"Will do."
"If he can figure out how to use a phone first," Jon muttered, and Lois smacked him on the back of the head.
Galatea smiled and stared at her son for a few long moments. She didn't cry; she had to spent enough time with Cadmus that she knew how to stop herself from crying. But she sure felt like it on the inside. "This is for the best honey." She hugged him. "As soon as you've got a handle on your powers, we'll come and bring you home."
"You're hurting me mom." Little Bruce choked, pulling out of the hug.
"Be careful." She told him in the most motherly tone imaginable.
"Mom, that's the point of this whole thing… I'm learning to be invulnerable and stuff, so I don't need to be careful."
"Oh dear…" Galatea sighed, but gave her son a smile. "If you don't call, I'm going to rip your head off. Got it?"
"Yeah mom, I got it."
"Love you."
"Love you too."
Then, with a little prying from Dick and one last goodbye, Dick and Galatea got into the car and drove off. And Little Bruce turned, along with Jon and Lois, to enter the farmhouse.
After all the terrible events concerning Superman, Lois Lane had wanted to get away from the hustle and bustle of Metropolis for a while. For one thing, she wanted a little calm after all the emotional turmoil, but more importantly, she wanted to protect her son. And she knew that if she stayed in Metropolis, it would be impossible for Jon to stay sheltered from his father's actions. And after the first Jonathon Kent passed away, Ma Kent wanted company on the farm, so she welcomed Lois and Jon with open arms. And now Little Bruce was becoming a temporary addition to the home.
"Ok, Jon, I'm going out with Cal tonight." Lois said in her usual organized and powerful tone. "And I still need to finish an article for the paper, so you two won't be seeing much of me tonight. I expect you to treat our guest just as well as you would if I were here." She narrowed her eyes at her son. "And if you don't, I will find out."
"Sure." Jon sighed, and headed up the stairs. Little Bruce followed.
Jon entered his bedroom, allowing his new roommate to follow him in, then slammed the door and locked it shut. "Listen up, Little Bitch; if you're going to be sharing my air, then there are a few rules you'll have to follow."
"Alright…" LB answered hesitantly. "Like what?"
"Rule 1: You will not touch any of my things without my expressed and written consent. Rule 2: No one at school will be allowed to know about your living arrangements. I don't want anyone to know that we even know each other, ok?"
"Ok… I guess."
"Rule 3: You will absolutely not, under any circumstances, fart within the confines of my room. I don't care if you have to stick your ass out the window, I don't want your pollutants in my breathing space. And the most important rule, Rule 4: We are not friends. We're being forced to coexist, and the sooner I can get you controlling your abilities, the sooner we never have to see each other again, got it?"
"Sure." LB plopped down on the bed.
"Hey, dipshit! Did I say you could touch my bed?"
"I, uh-"
"You will sleep on the floor, all night, every night. If you don't like it, there's straw in the barn. Sleep with the horses."
"You know, you could really stand to be a little nicer." LB said solemnly. "We're roomies now, so-"
"Stop!" Jon held out his hand. "Ok, new rule, you will never, ever use the term 'roomies' again. If you do so, I have the right to inflict corporal punishment."
"Ok." LB nodded and went along with Jon's berating, not wanting to start an argument. "Hey, do you have animals here?"
"It's a farm, dumbass. Of course there are animals."
"The fact that you swear so much proves to me that you have a limited vocabulary."
"Ok then, it's a farm you ignoramus, imbecile, nitwit, undereducated fool… shall I go on?"
"No, I think you made your point." LB sighed. "There just aren't really any farms in Bludhaven. I'm kind of excited to see the animals."
"Then you can clean up their crap." Jon shrugged.
"Feces would really be more appropriate word for it. Or stool, or-"
"Little Bitch, have you ever seen a pile of horse crap?" Jon raised an eyebrow.
"No…"
"It's crap. There is really no appropriate way to describe it, other than crap."
"Ok then."
There was silence for several minutes. Finally, Little Bruce spoke, hoping to bring up a less volatile subject. "Who's Cal?"
"What?"
"Your mom said she was going out with Cal tonight. Who's Cal?"
"Him…" Jon tightened his jaw. "He's the stupid dickhead who's dating my mom."
"You don't like him?"
"What was your first clue, when I called him 'stupid' or a 'dickhead'?"
"Why don't you like him?"
"Because he's a complete and utter tool." Jon scowled, "He runs the newspaper my mom works at. He's always wearing this fancy suit and perfectly combed hair, and he thinks he's just so funny and charming, and he just makes so much money, and he drives such an expensive car, and I freaking hate him."
"Oh." LB pursed his lip, trying to figure out what Jon didn't like. From that description, Cal sounded like a pretty good guy. But LB didn't dare say that; he was in no mood to start a fight with Jon on his first day in the house.
Little Bruce breathed a deep sigh. This is going to be a long, long day.
Dick's Car
"Do you think we did the right thing?" Galatea breathed deeply from the passenger side of the car.
"He'll be fine Tea'." Dick replied assuredly. "It's for the best."
"It's just… Smallville Kansas is a long way away from Bludhaven New Jersey. My baby is on the other side of the country, with a family he barely knows… I don't like it."
"I don't like it either, but look at our alternatives. You were created with immediate control over your powers, so you don't know how to Little Bruce. And we certainly can't let him run around possessing god-like abilities with no handle on them whatsoever. He's in good hands."
"I know, I know." Galatea gazed out the car window, watching the country landscape slowly transform into dismal city limits. "He got those powers from me."
"Yeah." Dick nodded, only paying half of his attention to his wife and the other half on the road.
"I finally have the life I wanted. And even now… my past is tearing it apart."
Wayne Manor
"He's coming back…?" Diana froze, petrified. "After all these years, he's really coming back?"
"It appears so." Bruce nodded. "We can't with one-hundred percent certainty that the ship belongs to Kal-El, but it seems likely."
"But why? After all these years, why would he even bother coming back here?"
"Not my concern." Bruce folded his hands and rested his head upon them. "My only concern is whether he'll be here as a friend or foe. I've mobilized Flash, John, Shayera, and J'onn to intercept the ship upon arrival. I will join them there. If there are any signs at all that Kal is here for a fight, then we'll take him down quickly and efficiently, no holds barred."
Diana was silent. She tried to think about the Clark she'd known for half her life; the man who had stood by her through countless battles, the man who'd saved her life countless times, and vice versa. But all that she could think about was what that man had become when she last saw him.
Superman was a monster, plain and simple. He'd been a great man for a long time, but somewhere along the line, he'd become a monster, and he'd done unspeakable things to Diana, as well as countless others. And no matter how much he tried to redeem himself, no matter how genuine or sincere his reform was… she could never forgive him. Ever.
She couldn't admit it to Bruce, but deep down, she had a small hope that Clark would be hostile. She hoped that the League would have to take him down, because then… then she would never have to stomach calling him an "ally" ever again.
And by the look on her husband's face, she got the sense that he was secretly hoping for that very thing. What Clark had done was unforgivable. He could make up for it a hundred times over, and it wouldn't make a difference. There comes a point when a man is beyond redemption; when the soul is cursed and can never be saved. And in Diana's eyes, Superman had reached that point fifteen years ago.
Studying further, she found something else in her husband's face; exhaustion. Bruce had been working himself to death for a long time. After Superman left, Bruce had taken it upon himself to pick up slack in Metropolis, dealing with crime there as well as in Gotham. Plus, there came the stress of leading the Justice League, maintaining his Bruce Wayne persona, being a father and a husband, and managing his company.
Plus, as much as he wanted to deny it, Bruce Wayne was getting older. Diana had noticed the gray developing in his hair, the wrinkles setting in on his face. And he had been running on severe sleep deprivation for years, in a mostly unbroken cycle. With all the responsibilities on his plate, there was very, very little time for relaxation or sleep in his schedule. It was taking its toll on him. Every night, Batman was getting slower, clumsier, sloppier. And criminals were noticing too. Thugs had been much more confident about taking on the Batman recently, and he'd actually obtained his share of injuries from them.
Diana stared at the heavy bags under his eyes, frowning. "Bruce, take a break."
"What?"
"I'll patrol Gotham tonight. Kara and Steel can handle things in Metropolis. And J'onn can just as easily lead the League for a night or two. You need to rest."
"I'll rest when there's time for it."
"You are going to kill yourself." She said it plainly, but with some hurt in her tone.
"I'll be fine, Diana. You have to watch the kids, and-"
"They're old enough to take care of themselves for a few hours. Besides, Alfred will be here." She took his hands in hers. "You can't protect everyone Bruce. And if you don't get some rest soon, you aren't going to be able to protect anyone. Please, please… promise me you'll stay here and sleep like a normal person tonight."
Bruce stared into his wife's eyes for a moment. Unlike him, she didn't age. She still looked the same as she did twenty years ago. One of the perks of immortality. Bruce could feel his own body aging, he could feel himself falling apart at the seams… and it drove him mad. He couldn't stand the thought of wasting away before his wife's eyes, while she stayed young. It was his greatest fear in life, and one that was quickly becoming a reality.
"Ok." He told her in a low tone of voice. "I promise."
Restaurant in Star City
"So did you hear the boy scout is coming back?" Helena Bertinelli asked, putting her feet up on the table in the middle of Star City's fanciest restaurant.
"Superman?" Diana Lance-Queen raised an eyebrow.
"No, Beetle Bailey." Helena rolled her eyes.
"Beetle Bailey was a soldier, not a boy scout." Oliver Queen corrected her.
"Beetle Bailey was a comic strip created by Soviet spies in the American newspaper industry to use as propaganda against the U.S. military, making all American soldiers look like dimwits. The idea was to boost confidence in other countries that might attack America, thus weakening us for the Soviet attack." Vic Sage explained from behind his menu, the words flowing out of his mouth automatically.
"Well it's some damn funny Soviet propaganda." Oliver shrugged, taking a drink of his highly expensive wine. "Besides, Vic, you can make anything sound evil."
"How so?" Vic peered up over his menu curiously.
"You have some sort of whacked out conspiracy for everything. I guarantee that any topic I bring up, no matter what it may be, you can link to some paranoid conspiracy theory."
"Conspiracy theorists are commonly associated with paranoia by government-controlled media in order to reduce their credibility, making the public less likely to believe them. That way, they're less likely to find out the truth."
"I rest my case."
"Hold on," Dinah interrupted. "Superman is coming back here? How do you know?"
"Diana was out patrolling Gotham earlier tonight. Apparently Bruce is sleep deprived or something. She told me all about it."
"Batman and Diana know?" Oliver frowned. "Damn it! Nobody tells us anything anymore."
"Well to be fair, we didn't tell anyone about our wedding." Dinah reasoned.
"There was good reason for that. Pretty much all our friends are freaks."
"Q," Helena looked over to Vic. "When are you going to get off your ass and propose?"
"If it means that much to you, why don't youdo it?"
Helena's face began to redden, but she did her best to contain herself. After all, she was a mature woman now, and she didn't need to make a scene in the middle of a nice restaurant. "Well Vic," She began with forced calmness, "I just that youmight like to do it. Sometime soon, maybe? Because we've dating for almost two freaking decades, Vic?"
"I'm comfortable with that arrangement." Vic shrugged, taking a sip of his wine. "A breakup is much easier than divorce."
"Hey, um… I think I better go powder my nose…" Dinah said quickly.
"Yeah, me too." Ollie agreed, and the couple got up and left the table as fast as humanly possible.
"What did you just say Victor?" Helena glared.
"Well, I'm just saying that if I ever decide that I have to get away from you, it would be much easier if I just avoided the whole marriage thing and-"
There was a blur, and suddenly Helena had tackled Vic to the ground, screaming in his face. "Asshole!" She grabbed a knife off the table and held it at his throat. "Propose you bastard!"
"You're hurting me!"
"Propose!"
Security began trying to pull Helena off of Vic, who she was now strangling, and she kicked them down with ease.
And outside, Ollie and Dinah sprinted into their car and drove home as fast as they could.
Metropolis Slums
Anthony Driscoll, son of Claire Selton and Cody Driscoll, also known as Volcana and Risk, now wandered the dank streets Metropolis' Suicide Slum. He was the result of a one-night stand, his mom had been working for the government at the NORAD base, and his father had broken into that base just for the thrill of doing it. And he wound up, well… doingit.Nine months later, Anthony was born.
His mom had been in and out of prison for most of his childhood, and he spent a good portion of his time fending for himself on the streets, waiting for his mother's next break out. It was during that time that Anthony learned to con, cheat, steal, lie and whatever else it took to survive.
And though he had made a largely successful effort to turn over a new life, especially within the last couple of years, there were still a few bad habits that he couldn't let go of. One of these habits was his constant smoking. Another was his recklessness with women.
He thought this fact over as he got up from the bed, inside the apartment that he couldn't remember entering, careful not to wake the naked girl whose name he did not know. "Not bad." He muttered to himself, looking at the attractive women passed out next to him. "Wish I remembered it."
In most situations, Anthony didn't allow himself to get drunk. He didn't like to let his judgment become impaired because, living on the streets like he had, he understood the value of a good decision. But apparently, he'd forgotten that rule on the previous night. Anthony wrote down his phone number and left it on her counter, in case she wanted further communication with him. Hopefully he could remember her name before then.
After that, he lit a cigarette, and slipped quietly out of the apartment. Iwantacoffee. He thought. Anthony walked only about half a block down the sidewalk outside the building before he came to an ATM. However, there was one problem; Anthony didn't have enough money in his account to withdraw. "Ah, shit." He grumbled, scrounging for change in his pocket.
Anthony had a job as a waiter at local restaurant, and was going to college to get a degree in engineering. Unfortunately, all money from said restaurant job went to fund said college expenditure. And that wasn't nearly enough. With a deep, reluctant sigh, Anthony found a payphone and inserted all the change he was able to rummage out of his pocket.
He then punched in the number he wanted, and listened to the phone ring twice before someone answered. "Hello?"
"Hey, Mom… I'm really sorry to ask this twice in one month, but-"
"Youneedmoney." Shefinishedthesentenceforhimautomatically.
"Just enough to keep me fed until payday."
"Are you calling me from a payphone? What happened to your cell?"
"Couldn't pay the bill."
"Isupposeyou'llneedmetocoverthattoo?"
"Well, if it's alright with you…"
"I'lltakecareofit.Youfocusongettingyourdegreefornow,gotit?"
"Yeah mom, I got it."
"Ok,talktolaterthen."
"Wait," Anthony interrupted. "There was something else I wanted to ask you…"
"Yeah?"
"Superman's ship was expected to arrive on Earth soon, right?"
"Ibelieveso…"
"Well, do you have any idea where?"
"Anthony…"
"Mom, come on… you don't have to worry. Superman was like, my best friend."
"Youweretenyearsold."
"And now I'm twenty four. So what?"
"I'vekindofbeenouttheloopforawhilenow.Ifyoureallyfeeltheneedtomeetupwithhim,IwouldaskoneoftheLeague."
"Ok, just wondering. Bye mom."
"ByeAnthony."
Anthony returned the phone to the receiver, and lowered his head, allowing his ashy red hair to fall over his eyes. "Superman… please remember me."
Space
Superman glanced over at Liluo, passed out in her chair, and smiled. Liluo's home planet had been wiped out by a plague; she was the last of her kind. Superman had saved her, knowing what it was like to feel alone in the universe, and took her under his care. He loved her like a daughter. Still, he worried about how his family on Earth would react. Assuming they even wanted him around.
The man of steel breathed a deep sigh. He still hadn't told Liluo why he was reallyreturning to Earth. He had his reasons… he just didn't want her to know yet.
He didn't want her to know that if he didn't return soon, he would never be able to her. In fact, he would never be able to go anywhere…
Kent Farm
LB Grayson sat in the attic of the farmhouse, looking through old photo albums. There a lot of pictures of Clark Kent. He knew about Superman, hell, everyone knew about Superman. But he didn't know why he wasn't around anymore. There were rumors around school that Superman had turned evil, but he'd never heard anything to really convince him it was true. He'd asked his parents about it several times, but they always told him that it was something they preferred not to think about.
Suddenly, his thoughts were interrupted by voices. Loud, ear-splitting voices. "What the…" He cupped his hands around his ears, but it did little good, and Little Bruce winced in pain. He began to make out words, as if the sound was becoming more focused. "Jon,getthedoor!" Lois was yelling.
LB decided to see what the commotion was, hoping to get his mind off the painful noise in his ears, and headed down the stairs. As he entered the living room of the farmhouse, he could see Jon standing at the front door, pulling it open with a reluctant sigh. "Hey." He huffed.
"Hello Jonathon." A neatly dressed man said from the doorstep. His hair was combed perfectly, his , his suit was clean and neat, and his features were orderly, if not a little stiff. He had a friendly smile and a trustworthy face. He was probably in his early forties, but appeared to be in very good shape.
"Cal." Jon uttered bitterly. "Here again to make my life a little worse?"
"Jonathon," Cal began in an even tone, "I know that you don't agree with your mother and I dating, but I think we would both appreciate it if you would at least give me a chance?"
"I would appreciate it if you would drink some gasoline and light a cigarette." Jon folded his arms. "But if you just stop going out with my mom, that'll work too."
"Where is your mother?" Cal asked brightly, changing the subject.
"Getting ready. For some reason, she wants to look pretty for you."
"Maybe your mother just has a bit more respect than you do." Cal pursed his lips.
"I give respect where respect is deserved. You've done nothing to earn it from me." Jon leaned against the doorframe, eying Cal like an opponent.
At that moment, Lois came running down the stairs, looking absolutely beautiful. "Ah, there's the lovely lady." Cal said with a smile, and handed Lois a bouquet of flowers.
"Oh, that's not cliché at all." Jon rolled his eyes.
"Jonathon!" Lois barked, and then looked back to Cal. "They're beautiful. Thank you so much."
"Read the card." Cal smiled.
Lois unfolded the card on the bouquet and read aloud, "Sunflowers for my ray of sunshine." Then she looked back up to Cal, smiling.
"Sunflowersformyrayofsunshine?" Jon repeated. "That's your idea of clever? I always wondered what kind of person they had in mind when they decided to put instructions on a bar of soap."
"Jonathon Kent!" Lois snapped, her face reddening. "One more word out of you, and I'll kick your sassy little ass, got it?"
"Yes mother."
"Shall we go?" Cal asked, flashing his million dollar smile.
"Let's." Lois nodded with something close to excitement, and the two headed out the door together.
After the door closed behind the couple, Little Bruce walked out into the middle of the room. "What a douche."
Jon looked at Little Bruce with a surprised expression. "Finally, something we can agree on."
"Your dad was way cooler."
"How do you know?"
"Well… he was Superman, you know?"
"He was also never here." Jon frowned. "Not for me, anyway."
"Why did Superman disappear?"
"I wish I knew."
"You don't even know what happened to your own dad?"
"Nope. For somebody so obsessed with the truth, my mom can be pretty damn secretive."
"Huh." Little Bruce paused a moment, a bit disappointed. He was hoping to find out the whole story from Jon. After a minute or so of silence, he decided to change the subject. "I could hear them."
"What?"
"I was up in the attic, and I could hear you guys down here, clear as day. How does that happen?"
"That's your super-hearing kicking in. It's a real pain in the ass until you get it under control." Jon was quiet for a few minutes, waiting for Cal's car to pull out of the driveway, and then the boy looked to LB with a mischievous grin. "Follow me."
"Where are we going?" LB raised an eyebrow.
"I don't know about you, but I learn better through experience," Jon smiled, "If I have to teach you to control your powers, it might as well be on the job."
"What does that mean, exactly?" LB inquired.
Jon pulled on his jacket, and cracked his knuckles. "Let's go find some trouble."
"That sounds like a bad idea to me."
"Don't be a pussy." Jon pulled open the back door quietly. "It's Smallville, don't worry. The only excitement around here is tipping cows."
"We're going to tip cows…?" Little Bruce asked, very confused.
"Hell no." Jon laughed. "We're going to find out what happened to my dad."
Catacombs Beneath Metropolis
The figure wandered slowly through the catacombs, having just been woken up by Jason and Roy. Now it was time to fulfill his purpose. The figure heard voices, and followed toward them. Eventually, he found the source; an expedition team that was sent to survey the catacombs. There were four of them, four men outfitted with heavy digging equipment.
"Need to build…" The man muttered, stepping into the light.
"Who the hell is that?" One of the surveyors questioned.
"Probably some frickin' druggie." Another said.
"Hey buddy, you lost?" One of the surveyors approached the man, who had spent the last twenty-four hours wandering aimlessly in the dark. There was no response. "Hey, pal, you hear me?" The surveyor reached out his hand to touch the man, and in one quick movement, accompanied by the sound of bone shattering, the figure grabbed the surveyor's hand and crushed.
The surveyor let out a scream, and the figure plunged his hand into his stomach, drawing a fountain of blood and bringing a painful death the man. "So weak…" The figure muttered, throwing the dead surveyor down.
The remaining three were frozen in shock. "Oh my God…" One stammered.
"God… how typical." The figure lumbered forward. "You stupid chunks of flesh and meat, the moment you are confronted with fear, you turn to a higher power hoping to be saved. There is no salvation here. Not for you. Not for anyone."
There was another blur, and suddenly the figure had ripped a second man in half! A third attempted to fight back, but the figure grabbed him and disabled him with ease. "Talking meat, that's all you are. Disgusting sacks of blood and beef, held together by bones that are easily broken and flesh that is easily torn. It's a wonder you've survived as a species at all. And, quite frankly, it's also pathetic."
The figure killed the third man, then ripped the throat out of the fourth, then gazed upon the for corpses. "I will correct nature's mistake. I will rid the world of the talking meat. But first… I must become complete." The figure looked up toward the hole through which the surveyor's had entered the catacombs. "I am Paragon. And I must be complete."
A/N To keep with tradition for this series, this story will have an extremely complicated plot, but I think it all ties together nicely. In the next chapter we'll catch up with Wally, John and Shayera, as well as see what's been going on at Themyscira… plus, we'll learn a bit more about what Paragon is, and Superman's real reasons for returning to Earth. So… stay tuned