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 Seventeen: Contretemps

Watchtower

April 2 – (irrelevant)

Granny growled in frustration.

There was an old axiom here on planet Earth, 'If you want something done right, you have to do it your self.' It seemed that the old saying was ringing quite true for her at this very moment. She had thought the Weapon, with his knowledge of Earth and its defenses and his programmed loyalty to Darksied, would he been able to lead off the invasion. But no. He got distracted by his obsession with the Superman.

But no matter. The show must go on! So, she had taken over control and gone ahead with the second wave, sending Parademon contingents to the major military bases all over the Earth (with an emphasis on the United States as that seemed to be a seat of the Justice League). But when the Parademons started failing, Granny had been forced to send in her Female Furies to do the job. Now it appeared that Lashina and her girls still were not enough to defeat one little man in ballet tights and a bat-mask.

Granny growled again, this time with resignation. 'If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself.'

…

The Potomac River, Virginia

April 2 – 3:00 pm

Wonder Woman grappled with Lashina, golden lasso against ribbon whips. Both women tumbling together in a mass of feminine curves, tangled cords and exposed skin. One of Lashina's whips struck Wonder Woman hard against the thighs, raising a bright red welt on the amazon's otherwise unblemished flesh. Diana coiled her lasso around the Ribbon warrior's shoulders, pressing her breasts together uncomfortably. There was much grunting and yelping. It was the kind of babe-fight men fantasized about, made all the more alluring by the simple fact that not a bit of it was intentionally meant to be. In fact, both women were blissfully oblivious of this fact. It was a real shame then, that everyone failed to notice them amid the rest of the chaotic battle that raged around them.

The Batman had finally subdued the Speed Queen. Her legs and arms were tied with the cable the Caped Crusader had originally designed to trap the Superboy. The alien woman might be strong, but she couldn't break something that had been designed to withstand kryptonian strength. Speed Queen was down and out and not going anywhere. The Dark Knight then returned his attention to Gilotina. He clutched one sharp-edged baterand in each hand, and wielded them rather like small dueling knives rather than shurinkenjutsu throwing weapons. The white-blond Fury had only her hands, her deadly blade-like hands. The two were about to rush each other, but froze mid-charge, their attention shifting as the now very familiar and unmistakable sound of yet another Boom Tube opening rent the air.

The two combatants leapt back from one another. Batman glaring at the newest challenge that walked through, while Gilotina saluted the old woman.

Bruce took a half-second to study the woman. Old and big, but not fat. Well muscled. Fit. A masculine face. A main of while untamed hair as white as chalk. Callous unforgiving, that spoke of stern discipline without the warmth of affection.

"Granny Goodness, I presume."

"The Batman, I presume."

…

somewhere between Metropolis and Gotham

April 2 – 3:16 pm

His comm buzzed.

"This is Superman. Go ahead."

"Clark, we might need you back here." Bruce's voice grunted over the channel.

"Okay." He replied soberly, clutching the unconscious boy in his arms as he flew strait to Wayne Manor. "I'll be there as soon as I get Kon-El settled."

There was no acknowledgment from the Dark Knight, the line just went quiet.

Clark didn't bother with going in through the Batcave's entrance. The Superman flew right over the estate's main gate and entered the manor through an upper window. Good luck explaining that, Mr. Wayne! Lucky the Caped Crusader lives close to the middle of nowhere and no one was around to see the red-caped Boy Scout slink in through the window like a skulking star-crossed teenager.

He deposited the boy in the same bed that he'd woken up in that morning. Alfred appeared in the doorway, his house-call medical bag in hand. Clark hovered over the older man as he checked the Superboy's heartbeat and breathing. He hopped on the balls of his feet with nervousness as Alfred felt the boy's chin and throat –checking his lymph nodes. He leaned over the man's shoulder when he pealed open one eyelid and shined his small pen-light in it, then repeated the process with the other. Clark wasn't quite sure what that was supposed to achieve. To check to see if his eyes would dilate the old army-medic would need something a lot stronger to get a reaction out of a kryptonian eye. (Unless he was checking to make sure they wouldn't dilate?)

Finally, voice tense with anxiety and heavy with impatience, Clark asked, "Is he going to be alright?"

Was that hesitation Clark saw in the old man's eyes before he answered, "Physically, he is fine."

"Okay." Clark nodded. That answer was to be expected. The kid was kryptonian, after all. It was late afternoon, closing in on that ambiguous period of time between afternoon and evening, but the sun was still up. Kon-El had gotten plenty of sunlight on the flight over, any physical injuries he might have sustained during their short fight should be healing –if not already healed. Mental damage, however…

Neither Clark nor Alfred had any was to assess that. But the boy would be fine! Clark had gone through something very similar and he was fine. There was no reason to worry about Kon. He just needed to sleep it off. In a few hours, he'll bounce back like nothing ever happened. You'll see! Really.

Clark's comm buzzed again. Right. Bruce had asked him to come back to the battle in Virgina.

…But he didn't really want to leave Kon's side. He wanted to be there when the boy woke-up.

The comm continued to buzz irritatingly. He answered.

"This is Superman. Go ahea-"

"Okay, seriously, Clark. Where the hell are you!" The Dark Knight snarled in his ear.

The Superman suppressed a sigh and brushed a strand of hair off the unconscious boy's forehead. He turned to Alfred. "You'll call me as soon as he wakes up?" He said, half-request, half-plea. "I… I wasn't there when the others rescued him from Cadmus and when I did get there I reacted badly. This time I wanna do thing right."

"Of course, Master Clark." If the old butler was more stiff than usual when he said that, Clark pretended not to notice.

The Man of Steel flicked on his comm. "I'm on my way."

…

The Potomac River, Virginia

April 2 – 3:45 pm

Clark recognized Granny Goodness the moment he arrived back on the scene. He rushed forward with all the force of a speeding bullet-train and caught the woman in the stomach, wrapping his arms around her mid-section, the Superman lifted them both up into the clouds. The intended maneuver was to raise her high enough into the upper atmosphere to deprive her of oxygen enough to pass out. Barring that, the plan would turn to slamming her back down to the Earth and hope the impact would do enough damage to end the conflict quickly.

Neither happened.

Instead, Granny twisted in his arms until she was at an angle where she could hit him with her stave. The impact at the base of his spine didn't hurt very much. The energy that coasted through the weapon and arched throughout his whole body did –a lot! The Superman's body convulsed and he dropped the old woman involuntarily. She landed on a Doom Tank and grinned up at him as if she were keeping mental score of their encounters and knew that she was winning.

The Superman glared down at her, matching stare for stare.

Granny kicked off the tank and leapt into the air, lunging at the Man of Steel. Before she could reach him, however, a long dark cable of strong tensile strength tipped by a bat-shaped grapple shot up from the ground and wrapped itself around the old woman's ankle, pulling her downwards. Clark looked down at the Batman who gave a two-finger salute.

The Man of Steel drifted down to land next to his friend. He looked like hell.

The cape was mostly gone. Clark wasn't sure how it had been ripped or what it had been ripped on, but it was just shreds left hanging by his shoulders. The sleek black sheen of his armor was cracked in several places and chipped in others, revealing the kevlar mesh underneath. His breathing was labored and his heartbeat was racing. But his face was set in one of his trademark bat-grimaces.

"Good of you to show up." He growled.

Granny jerked her ankle, yanking the line that was still wrapped around it, and pulled the Dark Knight off his feet. The Caped Crusader stumbled for a moment before he let go of the rope and regained his balance. The old woman was back on her feet. Clark glared at her.

"Its over, Granny." He said. "We're beating back your forces all over, I've got Kon-El and cleaned out your mind control, and we've got you surrounded. Its time to give up!"

Her wide lips spread into a humorless smile. "Oh, I think not, my little chick-a-dee."

She leveled her stave directly at the Batman and let loose a bolt of electricity. Clark moved fast, planting himself squarely in the bolt's path between the old woman and the Caped Crusader. Crisp electric-blue power surged over his form and the Man of Steel grunted in pain, going to one knee, teeth gritted. From behind him, Bruce let fly a baterang and the Granny had to cease her attack in order to dodge the Dark Knight's.

"Thanks." Grunted the Man of Steel.

Through the white eye-slits of his cowl Bruce gave him one of his many patent pending bat-looks. This one in particular was meant to convey, 'You stepped into an attack meant for me. Don't thank me for doing the same for you. Now shut-up and get up.'

Clark climbed to his feet.

Granny glared at them.

The World's Finest exchanged a glance. No words were necessary. They'd fought like this before, it had become second nature to them. Neither could read minds, but they knew each other and each other's fighting techniques so well, they as well as could. One enemy. Two of them. The enemy could not fly. One of them could. The enemy had one weapon. One of them had a tiny arsenal around his waist.

The Batman went left.

The Superman went right.

Granny glanced from one to the other. Her weapon could only strike one at a time.

The Superman was the one with the super-powers, he was the bigger threat. The old woman focused her stave on him. …Just like every enemy always did. While the they were looking at the tall, bright Man of Steel, the Dark Knight snuck up behind them. That was the way it always happened, that was the way they played it. Clark let the blast hit him. Came up behind her, struck the Granny on the shoulders, forward-flipped over her and somersaulted away.

Granny Goodness blinked in confusion for only a half a second before she heard the ominous beeps of explosives suck to her back. Two of them, actually. One on each shoulderblade. Beep… beep… beep… Three… Two… One…

The Superman shielded his partner from the blast.

When the smoke cleared they both stood.

So did Granny Goodness.

Clark sighed. "I suppose it would have been to much to ask for that to be the end of it."

"I'm sorry. Is there somewhere else you'd rather be?" Asked the Caped Crusader.

"Actually, yes."

Granny snarled at the both of them. Her teeth barred in frustration, drops of spittle dripping from the corners of her mouth. The back of her costume had been incinerated, its charred fringes hanging off her back and shoulders. The skin beneath it was red and blistered but otherwise unharmed. "You naughty, naughty boys!"

"Maneuver seven?" Clark asked.

"Maneuver seven." Bruce nodded.

Superman made a cup with his hands. The Batman took a running start, stepped into the Man of Steel's hands. Clark launched the Dark Knight high into the air. The Caped Crusader came down on Granny Goodness, kicking the woman hard in the face. Jumped backwards. The woman staggered back. The Superman followed up the Batman's attacked with a rush of his own.

He once again grabbed the woman, this time by the hands, squeezing her wrist hard enough to force her to drop her stave. For a second time they headed up into the sky. When it became apparent that she wasn't going to pass out any time soon, Clark slammed her back down into the ground. She hit the bank of the Potomac adjacent to the Anacostia-Bolling joint Air Force Naval base, sending up a splash of concrete, mud and water.

Batman picked up her dropped stave and examined its controls.

Granny got back to her feet.

"She doesn't know when to stay down." The Man of Steel shook his head.

"They never do." The Caped Crusader reminded him without infliction. Then, looking up, he fixed his gaze on the Granny and said, "I try never to say stuff like this, but… I wonder what this button does."

The Dark Knight pointed Granny Goodness' own stave at her and flicked his thumb over one of three buttons it had on its hilt. A bolt of electric-blue energy lashed out with far more kick-back then the Batman was expecting. He stumbled for a moment before he could regain firmer footing. The bolt went wide, striking the old woman in the shoulder rather then where he'd been aiming. Now with firmer footing and a better understanding of the device the Dark Knight tried again. This time the bolt flew true, striking Granny in the chest.

The old woman felt backwards, the chest-plate of her alien battle suit steaming. This time, she stayed down. Glaring up at the World's Finest, she said with a grunt, "That was dirty."

The Batman shrugged then jerked a thumb at the Superman. "He's the one who fights fair."

"I have tried with him." Said the Man of Steel as if lamenting a long battle lost. "But if he ever fought truly 'fair' in the kinds of battles we usually face-"

"-I'd have died a long time ago."

The two exchanged knowing grins.

"Such wonderful comradery." Spat the Granny. "I think I'm gonna be sick."

"Don't hold back on our account." Said the Superman. "If you're gonna puke, go ahead and puke. It wouldn't be the first time we beat someone so hard they tossed their cookies."

"Ugh."

The Batman, still holding the old woman's stave in his hand, knelt in front of the Granny –just out of her immediate reach. "Now then," he began, "I'd like to know why you're invading in the first place. What's so special about Earth?"

"Is that important right now?" Asked the Superman.

"I think it's important." Replied the Batman. "Saving the planet is only half of it. The rest is knowing every possible detail about the case."

"Of course." The Man of Steel heaved a shrug. He didn't care so much. He didn't need to know everything about everything just to punch a bad guy in the face.

While they were gabbing, Granny Goodness reached for her Father Box on her belt. There was a loud resounding BOOM, as she opened a Boom Tube. Climbing to her feet, she shouted a quick, "Retreat!" before jumping through the Tube.

All around them, more Boom Tubes were opened, the skies and grounds of Anacostia-Bolling were filled with their eerie, undulating light and in less time than it took to say 'Great Scott!' the armies of Apokolips were gone.

The Batman turned to his companion. "Now look what you did!"

…

NAS Pensacola, Florida

April 2 – 5:00 pm

Kid Flash was hungry and exhausted.

Robin's belt had been spent, having used all the surplus grappling lines, explosives, robinrangs, and other various paraphernalia he had.

The two sat, back to back, breathing heavily and staring, their eyes fixed, on the Doom Tanks that hovered over the Pensacola skyline.

"Dude." Said the Kid Flash. "Looks like we're about to die. Say something profound."

"That's an interesting word, 'profound'. It means deep and meaningful, and its antonym, 'confound', means to surprise and confuse. Makes sense. But their root, 'found', is the past participle of 'fine'. How does that make sense?"

"Heh. That's what we get for speaking a bastard language."

…And then, something very unexpected happened.

The air was rent by the unmistakable sound of yet another Boom Tube opening. The two exhausted teens looks towards the heavens and, sure enough, the undulating glow of another Tube hung in the sky.

"Ugh! What now…" Groaned the Kid Flash.

"I think… KF, I think they're leaving!"

…

Camp Pendleton, California

April 2 – 5:00 pm

The San Diego desert was littered with the bodies of Parademons. The skies were relatively clear of the monsters. That did not mean, however, that the skies were clear. While the Abrams tanks might have done away with most of the Parademon force, they were not so effective against the Doom Tanks.

M'gann hovered in the air, anxiously biting her thumb (a habit she had picked up since coming to Earth). They had done very well adapting to every new wave that had been thrown at them so far, but she could see that they were struggling to keep every inch their gained. Their forces were fairly evenly matched, but Apokolips did have one advantage that they did not. They were one base with a finite amount of resources, but the enemy could send any number of reinforcements through their wormholes at the drop of a hat.

…And that was what the martian girl feared they were doing when a new Boom Tube opened up over the battlefield.

She wanted to cry.

Then something happened. A change in the attitude of the troops. A grim resignation turning to confused hope and then… a single unifying realization of 'hurray'! M'gann blinked in confusion. The Doom Tanks were turning back. Instead of sending new ones out through the Boom Tube, the ones they'd been fighting were going back into it! They were retreating!

"Hurray!" She whooped!

…

The Potomac River, Virginia

April 2 – 5:00 pm

Batman switched his comm to an open JLA channel so that everyone could hear him and he wouldn't have to repeat for anyone. "This is Batman calling all League and Team members deployed. Enemy is retreating. Finish clean-up in your areas then rendezvous back at the base for debriefing. Acknowledge."

There was a choir of 'Roger', 'Affirmative', 'Got it', 'Understood', 'Got'cha' and whatever other words people used to acknowledge a message. The Batman switched off his comm and turned to the Superman.

The Man of Steel grinned playfully. "Roger that."

"Don't start." Growled the Dark Knight. "I'm still mad at you for letting the old lady get away."

"Right. Sorry about that." He wasn't sorry. "I might as well fly you home now. Since I think that's your plane over there. And over there… and some over there… and-"

"Yes. My plane was destroyed. I know."

"C'mon." The Superman gathered the Caped Crusader in his arms.

"I hate it when you carry me like this."

"Deal with it. This is how I carry everyone." Clark scoffed. They lifted into the air and the Boy Scout was sure to fly at only a moderately fast pace so as to not cause the Dark Knight any discomfort or motion sickness. After all, he was the goddamn Batman, he wasn't supposed to get motion sickness. When the mansion came into view Clark said, "I wonder, do you think Kon-El would be awake by now?"

Bruce felt a sudden stab of guilt at never having told his friend the risks with using the signal on the boy. "Listen, Clark, about Superboy…"

"Yes?" He looked at Bruce with those big blue and utterly trusting eyes of his and the Dark Stalker of the Night felt some of his resolve waver. "Nothing. It can wait until you've seen the boy."

…