Disclaimer: I do not own either Young Justice or its related characters. Such are the property of DC Comics, Warner Bros. Entertainment and Cartoon Network. I'm just borrowing them for some non-profit entertainment.
Signals
Chapter Eight: Superboy-Dark
Central City
April 1 – 1:35 pm
Clark didn't have much of a chance to begin explaining things to Barry. Just as he was about to open his mouth a new player appeared on the field. He came sailing downwards, not the quick but controlled decent of a flyer in a hurry, no, this was the decent of one who could leap great heights and distances in a single bound but was still subject to the laws of gravity; and what went up must also come down, and come down with the same amount of force at which it went up.
Barry threw up his arms to shield his face from the spray of dust and debris that was kicked-up by the stranger's landing. Clark, on the other hand, was not quite so phased. He glared at the newcomer, taking in his alien battle suit with its moderate amount of red patterning on the legs and arms, the bold red lightning bold etched into the center of the chest-plate, a chest-plate that was just vaguely shaped similarly to the S-shield he wore on his own chest. Clark glared at the man, his helmet hiding his face, the eye-sockets nothing more than slits of crimson.
Upon the newcomer's arrival a most familiar and unwelcome sound filled Clark's sensitive ears. He wasn't sure, but he would bet a month of his Daily Planet salary the sound was coming from the man's helmet. …That dissonant cord. A melody that did not belong on Earth, it had no place on this beautiful blue gem. It was apart, alien, anomalous, and discordant. It was the melody that had taken his son from him. Clark's eyes narrowed in loathing as he glared at the man that now stood before him and the Flash. He shifted his vision to the X-ray in an attempt to see the man beneath dark helmet with its scarlet slitted eyes.
His vision did not penetrate it and he growled with frustration. "Lead."
The stranger planted his feet, apart but not to wide as to leave him open, a slight shift to the side to reduce his target area from a frontal assault and his arms arranged as they would best be suited to shift smoothly between blocking and attacking as the situation called for. Both Clark and Barry recognized that stance, they'd seen it often enough.
"Canary Style!" Barry muttered in disoriented surprise.
It was actually called 'Wild Cat's Style', but now wasn't really the time to quibble over names and trademarks. The point was, it was a stance that could have only been learned from either Black Canary or her mentor Wild Cat –i.e. it could have only been learned here on Earth and it only could have been learned from a member of the Justice League or its predecessor the Justice Society.
A heavy, cold and sharp stone of apprehension sank into Clark's stomach as a theory was formed. "Who are you?"
The black-clad warrior did not answer. Instead he pointed to the Man of Steel and then made a hither-to motion as if to say 'Come at me, bro' like in old Kung Fu movies, only this time it held no campy humor.
"Flash," Clark began, not taking his eyes off the newcomer. He seemed to be the right height and roughly the same build, but he couldn't be… No, Clark wouldn't even entertain the idea. He turned from the man momentarily to address his friend and comrade. "Go to Gotham. You know where the Batcave is, right? Check in with Batman, tell him what happened here and… and that there's a new enemy who knows some of the League's individual fighting styles."
"Got it." Barry acknowledged and then was gone in a Flash.
Clark turned back to the masked stranger. "Mighty accommodating of you to wait."
The man merely shrugged. Reassumed his stance and once again motioned, 'Come at me, bro.'
Clark obliged.
He rushed forward with all the force of a speeding bullet-train and caught the man in the stomach, wrapping his arms around his mid-section, Clark lifted them both up into the clouds. The masked villain twisted in the Superman's grip until he could look downwards and see just how far they had climbed. He aimed one solid punch at Clark's side, right above where his kidney would be and the Man of Steel doubled in pain, dropping the black-clad warrior and wrapping his arms around his own mid-section instead.
His punches were just about as hard too… No! Its not him! Don't think that. It can't be!
He, whoever he was, plummeted earthward, this time landing in one of Central City's residential neighborhoods. He gazed upwards at the Man of Steel but Clark couldn't see his face to tell if he were grinning or glaring or any combination of the two.
People looked out through their windows or poked their head out from behind doors to see what had just fallen in the middle of their street and Clark became painfully aware that this was not a good place to fight. The possible casualty count was to high. Whoever this man was, he wanted to fight Superman and didn't seem interested in anyone else. He certainly hadn't tried to stop Barry from rushing off to rendezvous with Bruce and whatever other League members might have checked in since he'd left. Clark was his target. So, Clark would give him the fight he wanted, but not here.
He descended to again stand in front of the man. Grabbing his wrist to block a fresh launched punch the Superman said, "I'll fight you. But not here. I take it you can't fly."
No response.
Lifting the man by the wrist he already held, he levitated them both into the air a second time. "Just don't wail on me until we get where we're going."
Again, the man gave no response. No curt word in an alien language to confirm he'd heard, not even a slight nod. But, this time he didn't fight or struggle as Superman flew them south-west towards Yuma, Arizona. More specifically, to the Yuma Proving Grounds thirty miles north of Yuma City. Where the only collateral damage would be some natural dessert formations and one small military instillation that was probably more than adequately shielded when one considered the types of weapons they tended to make these days.
Clark dropped his opponent unceremoniously before descending himself to plant his feet firmly on the dusty ground before his enemy. "Alright, now what's this all about?"
The man did not answer. Instead he dropped to the ground and swung one black-armored leg out and kicked the Superman's feet out from under him. Clark caught himself mid-fall and hovered back up to a standing position. "Really?"
A shrug. He reassumed his Wild Cat stance.
"Where did you learn that?"
Another shrug.
"I have a friend who uses that stance a lot."
No response.
"Alright then." Clark assumed a stance of his own. "You might know a bit of Wild Cat's style, but I've tangled with Bat-style. Lets see who's better."
…
Batcave
April 1 – 1:45 pm
Bruce groaned and pushed his cowl back from his face as he flopped down in his high-backed swivel chair. Thank goodness for news feeds. The camera was to far away to pick up what Superman had said, but when the Flash sped off to the north-east leaving Clark to deal with the new arrival, Bruce knew there was only one destination he could be headed for. Well, at least one member of the League was on his way.
He turned his attention to pondering the new masked villain. A theory had already formed in his head about him, a theory that his kryptonian colleague would not like. The World's Greatest Detective had always been sure that they hadn't seen the last of the boy after he'd been taken. Admittedly, he had originally thought his reappearance to come in the form of a hostage or bargaining chip, but the moment Bruce saw that black-clad alien warrior use Wild Cat's old fighting style, a style that Black Canary had taught to the Team, he was forced to add 'puppet' and 'henchman' to his list and place them at the top. It seemed Clark's prodigal son had come home but he wasn't looking to be welcomed by daddy with open arms. No, he looked more like he was jonesing for a fight.
And sure enough, he and Clark smacked each other around for a bit before the Superman managed to move the fight away from the city and out of the reach of Iris West-Allen's camera crew.
Bruce switched off the news feed and reached for his JLA comm instead, intending to offer whatever warning or advice he could to the Man of Steel (though in his current mood he probably wouldn't listen), only to remember that Clark had taken out his comm back at the Fortress and had failed to retrieve it prior to making their get away. Great. That was just great. When the obnoxious Boy Scout got back he was going to give the man a good long lecture on always being prepared.
He instead set about placing calls to the remaining Founding Seven that were as of yet unaccounted for.
Hal had been in the middle of a test flight at the time that the SOS about Watchtower went out. He had confirmed that he'd gotten the message but wasn't exactly in a position to rush off right then and there. He had since landed, been debriefed by his employer, excused himself citing a 'personal emergency' and was now on his way to rendezvous at the Batcave. Green Lantern was accounted for. Check.
J'onn, upon receiving the SOS had headed strait to the Cave to make sure M'gann and the rest of the kids were okay. He had found the mountain completely sealed off and when he had phased through the walls found only Parademons and no sign of the children. Bruce was happy to ease the man's worry by informing him that the kids were perfectly fine and, in fact, also on their way to Gotham. At that J'onn had breathed a sigh of relief and assured the Batman that he too would be there soon. Martian Manhunder accounted for. Check.
Orin, upon answering Bruce's call, thanked the Batman for his concern but he wasn't about to leave his wife and their newborn son (or his people for that matter) when it seemed there was a planet-wide invasion going on. If the League needed his input then he would have his comm on him at all times, but he would not leave Posidonis. His capitol city had already been devastated by one enemy attack the previous year, if there was to be another he wanted to be there. In the end, Bruce had to concede, Orin had his responsibilities to his kingdom and his people and those were just as important as his responsibilities to the League. He had to prioritize and it seemed the League was a second priority for him. At least Aquaman was accounted for.
Finally, Bruce made the call he had been dreading –Diana. The last he'd heard from the amazon princess she had been on Watchtower with Green Arrow, trying to fend off the onslaught of Parademons that had eventually taken the Tower. He feared calling her because he didn't want there to be no answer on the other end, or worse, have an enemy officer answer instead. But he needed to know her status, and the status of Oliver while he was at it. He called Diana.
…And was pleasantly surprised and relived to be answered by her video pick-up on Themyscira. The edges of the image were a little fuzzy, as they always were whenever connecting a science-based transmitter like the Batcave's array to a magic-based receiver like the Amazon's mirror on Themyscira or Zatara's crystal ball, etc. But Diana was alive and that was all that mattered. Her tiara had been replaced back on her head; the cut over her forehead had been treated, her bruises already looked to be healing, she still looked beat-up, but she looked far better than she'd seemed earlier that day.
"Bruce!" She answered.
"Diana, what's your status?" He asked, not wanting to mince words and instead got right down to business.
"Just returned from Watchtower." She answered, "Bruce, the Tower's been taken."
"I assumed." He nodded. "Clark's Fortress was also hit and the Cave is sealed off."
"Damn." She swore. Then looked up as if the thought had just occurred. "Are the children…?"
"The Team's fine." It was a little comforting to know that even Leaguers without protégés of their own still worried after the Team. "Continue with your report."
"They were to much for just Ollie and I to handle on our own." She continued. "They took us by surprise and swarmed the bridge. It became apparent that it would be better to flee and return to fight when we were better prepared. We took the Javelin and only just arrived on Themyscira. My sisters are seeing to Oliver's wounds. He's worse off than I am, but he'll survive."
"When can you regroup with the rest of us? The rendezvous point is my base."
"My mother is busy preparing the island defenses. She wants me to brief our warriors on our new enemy. After that I'm all yours."
"Understood." He switched off. Wonder Woman was accounted for. Check.
Flash entered just as he was about to start going down the roster for the rest of the League.
"Heya, Bats." Barry skidded to halt before he ran smack into a wall. "Supes wanted me to give you the skinny, but I kinda don't know what's going on myself. Hey, ya got anything to eat?"
"I'll have something sent down for us." Bruce rewound the news track until he reached an image in which the camera had zoomed in on the masked alien. He paused the frame and swiveled his chair around to face Barry. "What can you tell me about this guy?"
…
Yuma Proving Grounds, Arizona
April 1 – 2:15 pm
A cloud of dust billowed upwards, accented by flying stones flung up by the sheer force with which Clark had knocked his opponent down.
The man shook his helmeted head before turning to glare back at the Superman. Or, at least, Clark assumed he was glaring. Truth be told, it was impossible to tell with that damnable faceplate covering him from forehead to chin. His opponent was strong, almost as strong as Clark himself, and invulnerable too, just as invulnerable as Clark was; they were almost evenly matched, almost. Clark was fairly certain that if he really cut loose he would come out the undisputed victor, but something held him back. A terrible sneaking suspicion about the identity of the one he was fighting stayed his strength, making him hold back just a little every time he threw a punch or opt towards defense when he could go on offence.
It was that sound that did it. Clark was certain it was coming from the helmet now. After grappling with the man for the better part of half an hour, he was sure that the dissonant cord he was hearing originated from the helm his masked opponent wore and he'd only ever hear that cord used to control one person… He hoped it wasn't true. Clark wish to high holy Rao that it wasn't who he feared it might be under than helmet.
"Why don't you talk?" He asked as the man climbed back to his feet.
He lunged at the Superman. Clark merely levitated out of his reach. He could have sent a blast of heat vision at the man, if he aimed just right he might be able to penetrate the narrow eye slits in his helmet's visor and sear his eyes. But he didn't. If it really was who he thought it was he didn't want to. Not for the first time in this fight, he chose passivity over aggression. Ma Kent would be proud of him, but continuing this way wouldn't end the fight any time soon.
Though the black-clad villain couldn't fly he could still jump very, very high and that is exactly what he did after Clark rose out of his reach. He leapt into the air, shooting well over the Superman's head and the American Alien looked up wondering what the man's intention had been, only to realize all to late when he came plummeting back down right on top of the Man of Steel. He landed on Clark's shoulders, wrapping his legs around the Superman's throat. He leaned backwards, hanging off Clark's shoulders like a living cape and once again targeted the man's kidneys with vicious blows.
Clark snarled in pain and threw the man off him. Once gain sending him plummeting earthward. He hovered in mid-air clutching his sides. He hurt so very, very much… and that didn't usually happen to him. He glared down at his opponent, wondering if he was going to pull that stunt again.
He did not. Instead, the shorter man climbed back to his feet, crossed his arms over his chest, looked up at the Superman and… waited.
Clark dared to float downwards a little and make another attempt at conversation.
"Don't you wanna gloat about your apparent superiority?" he asked and was alarmed to find that he was a little short of breath. That also didn't usually happen to him. "Brag about you brilliant plan for world domination? Banter about our gaudy costumes? Exchange groan'tastic puns?"
A shrug.
"Say something!"
He did not. Instead the masked villain simply reassumed his Wild Cat stance and invited the Superman to attack again.
This was getting them nowhere. Clark wanted to end this. He wanted to know who this new enemy was. He wanted to know why he heard the alien melody that had controlled Kon-El coming from the man and he wanted to know the man's connection to his son! The Superman did attack, but this time he wasn't looking to stun or stagger the man, no, this time he had a more specific target in mind, a smaller one, higher on the body.
Clark used a faint to make his opponent think he was aiming a punch to the left and then with his other hand managed to get his fingers up under the helmet right by where the ear would be. The man reacted instantly, tilting his head away from Superman's grip and pivoting slightly. He grabbed Clark's extended arm with both of his and with a sharp tug and a roll of the shoulder he sent the Man of Steel flying (figuratively). Clark caught himself before he could hit the ground and remained hovering.
"Ya know, if I wasn't such a patient guy, I'd be really annoyed with you."
A shrug.
He might be a patient guy, but even the Superman has his limits and this masked opponent was certainly pushing him to his. Okay, he had been holding back because of whom he feared it might be under that helmet and he didn't want to hurt that person. But there was no guarantee that this masked villain was who he dreaded it was, so why handicap himself? Clark decided it was time for the metaphorical kid gloves to come off. His opponent was just as invulnerable as he was, fine. But he wasn't quite as strong as the Superman, neither could he fly and Clark was pretty sure he wasn't anywhere near as fast either. The Man of Steel had a whole slew of advantages over this guy. It was time to use them.
Clark rushed forward at twice the speed of sound and landed one solid upper-cut to the man's chin with the force of a cosmic-anvil and he was propelled upwards into the atmosphere. But just before he could reach escape velocity and be lost to the stars, Clark was there above him. Intertwining his fingers, the Man of Steel brought both fist down on the man's back to send him sailing back down to create a rather impressively sized crater. The Arizona dessert would never look the same after this.
Landing next to his now prostrate form, Clark knelt and rolled him over onto his back. The man groaned with the motion, confirming that he was still alive and the Superman hadn't accidentally killed him. That was good. Clark once again hooked his fingers under the helmet and finally managed to pull it from his opponent's head.
The Superman froze.
He had already guessed it. There weren't exactly many possibilities for who he could have been when one considered his fighting style, but still… Clark had hoped… he had feared… He didn't want it to be…
"Kon-El!"
There was no mistaking that face. It was his own face, just almost two decades younger. His square chin with a strong cleft in it, his high cheek-bones, his strait nose, his prominent brow, his high forehead, his spit-curl of hair… it was all his… his face… his clone… his son…
Clark dropped the helmet. "No…!"
The boy gave a second groan and his eyes fluttered open. Clark's own crystal blue eyes stared back at him. They remained like that for a moment, both men doing nothing more than just staring at one another. Then his look of groggy disorientation contorted into a baiting sneer and he spoke the first words Clark had heard pass his lips since reappearing before him almost an hour earlier.
"Erosh bem, ukr-kah." –'Hello, father.'
…
95 FWY (– somewhere between Happy Harbor and Gotham)
April 1 – 2:45 pm
"This is just ridiculous!" Robin crossed his arms over his chest and slumped back in his seat. "It'll be days before we get to Gotham like this!"
"It's a five hour drive." Snapper Carr had long since lost patience with the Boy Wonder. "Stop complaining and turn on the radio or something."
"It could be only three hours if you'd drive a little faster." The little bird humph'd.
He turned on the radio as Snapper had suggested and flipped through all the presets. Lucas "Snapper" Carr seemed to only listen to 80s rock. The Team could only listen to so much Meat Loaf before they began to have visions of themselves clad all in denim riding winged motorcycles to battle Cobra Commander and Skeletor with Prince Lightstar and Lion-o at their sides. Robin cringed and turned the radio off right in the middle of 'Bat Outta Hell'.
"Hey, I liked that song."
Of course he did.
"Hey, guys…" M'gann's voice timid and hesitant commanded everyone's attention. "I've been thinking… about this whole situation, do you think, maybe, do you think this could just be another training sim that we just forgot about, again?" The timidity was still in her voice, but now the hesitation was replaced by fear. "Its just, it seems really similar. The Earth under attack, we're cut off from the rest of the League and our mentors can't help us…" She trailed off.
"No." Kaldur assured her, placing one strong arm around her narrow shoulders in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. "Batman promised no more psychic-simulations."
"Yeah." Wally chimed in, always ready to set himself up as the martian girl's 'white knight'. He figured his chanses were better now that Conner was gone anyway. "And besides, no one's died yet that we know of."
He was smacked by Artemis.
"Ack! What'd I do this time!"
"If you're trying to comfort someone, don't add 'that we know of' to the end of it. Idiot." She crossed her arms over her chest in displeasure. "Its cramped back here."
"Well, if you don't like it, we could always pull over and tie you to the hood of the car instead." The Kid Flash offered.
She smacked him again.
"Stop hitting me!"
"You're a superhero, take it like a man!"
Snapper refocused the rearview mirror so he could glare reproachfully at the children. "Cut that out right now." He said, his voice full of classroom authority. "If anyone hits anyone else I will pull this car over and you'll all be walking to Gotham."
Wally and Artemis settled down.
Snapper returned his attention to the road.
Over a private telepathic thread M'gann thanked Kaldur. He had been the first to alleviate her fears and she appreciated it.
/'It was nothing.'/ He placed his hand over hers in what the young atlantian hoped was nothing more than supportive gesture.
…
Yuma Proving Grounds, Arizona
April 1 – 3:00 pm
"Erosh bem, ukr-kah." Conner sneered.
Clark remained motionless, frozen in horrified disbelief. Back in Central City he had first suspected that the masked alien warrior might be his lost clone whom had been spirited away only two weeks ago. The moment he had used Wild Cat's fighting style, a style that Black Canary had taught the Team, a style that could only have been learned from Canary or Wild Cat himself. Clark had suspected, but he had denied those suspicions, not wanting his enemy to be his son.
But it was. It was Conner… it was Kon-El. His clone… his son.
Around them the music swelled, a dark ominous melody full of deep winds and ill-tuned strings. A melody of malevolent power, a dissonance that didn't fit with the rest of the Earth's natural rhythm. Clark hated that sound, the dissonant cord that controlled Kon-El, that vile bewitching melody that had robbed his son from him.
The Superman snatched the ebony helmet from where he had dropped it and, summoning all his kryptonian strength, ripped the alien lead-alloy in two. The melody sputtered and died away, fading into the wind. Clark tossed the two halves of helmet aside and turned his attention back to Conner.
"Kon-El?"
The boy just looked at him. Glanced to the broken halves of head-armor, then back to his genetic-parent and raised one quizzical eyebrow. As if to say, 'Did you expect something to happen?'
"It's gone." Clark stood and offered his son a hand up. "Let's go home."
Conner took the offered hand, but he didn't use it to pull himself up. Instead, the boy yanked hard enough to throw the Man of Steel off balance and before Clark knew what was happening, he was on his back, straddled by his clone and having his face beaten in by the younger man. Apparently, now it would take more than just turning off the sound to restore Kon-El to normal.
Conner pummeled Superman's face, tearing the rough material of his gloves against the near invulnerable flesh of the man's cheeks and forcing his head into the dusty Arizona ground. Clark, like most people, did not take to kindly to having his head used as a punching bag. He swung his feet up, tipping Conner forward and causing the boy to do a summersault to avoid smashing his own face in the dirt (not that such a thing would have hurt him at all). The two regained their footing and glared at one another. Crystal blue eyes to crystal blue eyes.
"Snap out of it, Kon!" Clark pleaded. "The music's gone."
It goes without saying that Conner did not snap out of it. If destroying the source of the mind control didn't return him to normal, then a few encouraging words definitely wouldn't. He sent another blow flying at the Man of Steel, this one aimed at his stomach. Clark blocked it, only to realize all to late that it had been a faint and the heel of Conner's other hand impacted him in the center of the chest instead, sending the Superman staggering backwards.
Can't forget he was trained by Dinah. Black Canary was one of the foremost martial artists in the world. But Clark knew Bat-style, admittedly only from the receiving end. The problem was, he really didn't want to fight Kon-El, not seriously at least. He didn't want to risk harming the boy in any sort of permanent sense. He knew how strong he was, he could move mountains, throw a football into outer space, crush coal into diamonds in his bare hands, chew titanium alloy like it was gum… Conner might be his clone, but he was a version of himself from when Clark was still in his mid-teens. The boy didn't have all his powers and abilities and if Clark were to really cut loose and go all out on the boy… He ran the risk of damaging him permanently.
Evil-Conner, for his part, seemed to be well aware of this fact.
While Superman was hesitant to strike the young Superboy of Darksied's Elite, the Superboy-Dark had no such qualms about wailing on the Superman. And he did so, without hesitation, without empathy and, without remorse but instead with extreme prejudice.
…
Batcave
April 1 – 3:20 pm
J'onn and Hal arrived within moments of each other, causing Barry to look up from the tea and sandwiches Alfred had provided for him. Bruce, on the other hand seemed not to notice them. This wasn't the case, of course, the Batman was always acutely aware of everything around him, he simply chose to ignore his comrades' mundane comments of, "Ooh! Cucumber sandwiches!" in the case of Hal Jordan and, "Was that Wolf and Krypto guarding the entrance? Where is Clark?" in the case of J'onn.
It was actually the latter of the Martian Manhunter's questions that the Batman was trying to answer. The idiot Superman didn't have his JLA comm on him and so couldn't be tracked with it, and Bruce had been locked out of Watchtower's planetary surveillance system but the Batcave was still hooked-up to Wayne Enterprises network and it was just a hop, skip and a jump to patching into a Wayne Tech satellite. It wasn't until the main monitor array projected the image of a pot-marked and torn section of the Arizona dessert in which two humanoid figure could just barely be seen through the dust cloud that Bruce turned to the three members of the Founding Seven that had gathered in him cave.
"This is where Clark is." He informed them. "Orin's not coming and Diana won't be along for a while yet."
"Is she okay?" Asked the Green Lantern. "She was on Watchtower when it was hit."
"She and Oliver will be fine." Bruce understood concern for their comrades perfectly, but now was not the time to get sidetracked. "But we still need to gather the rest of the League."
"And the children." J'onn added. "You said M'gann and the others were on their way here. Where are they?"
"Yeah." Barry added. "My wife and in-laws will kill me three-ways dead if anything happens to Wally."
"They're on their way." Bruce assured them.
…
95 FWY (– just outside Gotham City limits)
April 1 – 3:30 pm
The Sunshine Yellow '09 Range Rover did end-up exceeding the speed limit finally, making a five-hour drive only three and a half hours. They were now approaching Gotham City limits much to everyone's collective relief. Robin pointed out an exit off the 95 that turned into a dirt road, which turned into an ill-maintained highway, which then turned back into a dirt road. And then, quite arbitrarily it seemed, he asked Snapper to stop the car and let them off.
The old JLA secretary turned schoolteacher looked confused but did as he was told all the same. Robin was the protégé of the Batman, after all. He let the kids off on the side of the dirt road, seemingly in the middle of nowhere.
"Are you sure this is where the Batcave is?" He asked the Boy Wonder.
"This is not where the Batcave is." Robin was quick to answer. "But you don't have clearance to go there and, frankly, after that fiasco at the Cave four years ago, Bats doesn't want you anywhere near one of his bases. We'll walk the rest of the way."
That was a snub if Snapper ever heard one. Still, he was a teacher and felt a tad responsible for the kids and so he had to press, "Are you sure you kids'll be okay?"
"We'll be fine." The Boy Wonder assured him. He crossed his arms over his chest and gave Snapper a second dose of his own 'bat-glare'.
With a sigh, Lucas Carr got back behind the wheel and drove away. Leaving the Team, for all intents and purposes to him, in the middle of nowhere.
Once the car was well out of sight and no sign of sunshine yellow could be seen through the trees and no crunch of gravel under tires could be heard by their average human hearing, Robin turned into the woods, motioning for his Team to follow him. He lead them through dense threes with thick underbrush crowding their and his path seemed to be a random twisting one that, Kaldur was sure, caused them to cross their own trail at least twice (possibly three times, the atlantian couldn't be sure). But he couldn't decide if it was because the Boy Wonder was lost or if he were doing it deliberately in order to confuse them so that they'd never be able to find the Batcave a second time on their own. Both explanations seemed equally likely to the Aqualad.
Finally, Robin's twists and turns stopped and the trees thinned out enough to reveal a clear trail. Not a natural, but something that had clearly been worn down over time by something running back and forth over it repeatedly. Something wide with at least four wheels –the Batmobile maybe? The five of them followed this trail to what appeared to be nothing more than a sheer cliff-face. A faux cliff-face probably, something to camouflage the entrance to the Batcave. This assumption was only confirmed by the two large which dogs that lounged around where the trail met the foot of the cliff. Well, one dog and one wolf. Of alien dog from planet Krypton and one genetically altered Wolf through the use of cobra-venom. The Team recognized them instantly.
"Wolf! Krypto!"
The two dogs rushed forward and pounced on the martian girl. M'gann gave them each affectionate scratchies and pets which they licked her face yipped affectionately.
"Huh, I wonder why Uncle Supes brought them here instead of leaving them at the Fortress." Artemis crossed her arms over her chest.
"Duh! They're here to guard the Batcave." Kid Flash said as if this were obvious. "But can we just go in now? I'm starving!"
Of course he was.
Robin touched something on the rock-wall, the others didn't quite see what it was. It had been concealed beneath a small hanging shrub that grew out the side of the cliff. But whatever it was, a large segment of cliff-face shifted at its touch to reveal a very clean, steel-plated cavern leading in and slightly downwards. Robin entered first, the Team followed, the wall slid back into place behind them. He stopped a few feet inside the Cave and pulled a sliding tray out of the wall. The kind they sometimes use in banks for safety deposit boxes.
"Sorry, abut this guys." Said the Boy Wonder. "But, Kaldur, Arty, I need you to hand over your weapons."
"Seriously?" The fem fatal archer asked skeptically.
"Standard procedure for all newcomers." Robin shrugged. "Batman's orders."
Reluctantly, the archer and the atlantian complied. Artemis un-slinging her quiver of arrows from her shoulder and handing it along with her compound bow and smaller crossbow over to the little Bat-trained bird. He placed them in the tray, labeled it 'Artemis' and slid the tray back into the wall. He then pulled out a second tray and repeated this process with Kaldur, labeling his tray 'Aquald' before sliding it back into the wall. He didn't tell either of them, but their weapons inside those boxes would be analyzed by the Batcave's main computer for any weaknesses or counter methods to combat them. Batman might be many things, but cautions and 'always prepared' would always be on the top of that list. As for Kid Flash and Miss Martian, well, their powers and weaknesses were the same as their mentors'.
Robin lead them further into the cave, across a catwalk over a wide and deep chasm and then finally into the main portion of the cave. There they saw that Batman, Green Lantern, the Flash and Martian Manhunter had already gathered.
"Uncle J'onn!" M'gann flew to her uncle's side and was swept up in an affectionate hug.
"Wally! You're alright!" Barry stood to likewise hug his nephew but the young speedster zoomed out of his reach before he could.
"Ooh! Sandwiches!"
Robin was far more dignified as he made his way to his mentor to make his report. But before a single word could pass the little bird's lips, he was cut off by an exclamation from Artemis.
"Oh my god!" She jabbed a finger at the still maskless Batman. "You, you're… you're… You're Bruce Wayne!"
Bruce growled. All his caution and planning and tricks and his identity is brown away by a single moment of carelessness. Damn it all!
The archer then turned to Robin. "That means that you're…"
Robin grinned a trollish grin and withdrew his civilian iPhone from his utility belt. He crossed the chamber back over to her to show a picture he'd taken back in September. "I told you we'd laugh about this one day."
…
(A/N: Notes on kryptonian – as I said in a previous author's note, most of the kryptonese I use in my stories is a blend of what can be found on Kryptonian (dot) Info and Superman Through the Ages.
"Erosh bem" Literally translates to "good life to you" or "good journey". It's a salutation that can be used for both a 'hello' and a 'goodbye'. More info can be found on Kryptonian (dot) Info and the language page of Superman Through the Ages: http:/ superman. nu/ theages/ Encyclopaedia/ kryptonian. php …)