Chapter 5

Clark was leisurely flying in the upper atmosphere listening to the world. Consumed with thoughts about the story and Lois (always Lois), he was grateful for the peaceful world. He drew deep of the cold, thin air and reveled in the feeling. Growing up on a farm and drifting into mostly sparsely populated places he was still unused to the level of livelihood within such a bustling city as Metropolis. Sometimes it was more than his ears could bear. Being able to escape from it in the sky was restful.

The life of a superhero, however, was rarely restful. His respite was short-lived as he then heard a piercing cry from the east coast of North America. Without hesitation he flew to where the scream was. It originated in Gotham, but Clark, although unfamiliar with the notorious city, took no time to admire or shrink from its ruinous buildings and streets. His entire focus was on the person in trouble: a young man who was being mugged behind a strip club.

With all of his speed, Clark flew toward the sound. He was moments away, but before he could intervene a dark shadow swept the scene and over-took the thugs. They were being pulled into the darkness by a force inhuman. The thugs circled closer together as the young man ran away in a frenzy. They looked around frantically, searching like prey cornered by an unknown predator. Then like an ooze seeping from beneath, the shadows stretched into the light, morphing and building into the form of a man.

Clark had heard of him before. He had read the almost mythic accounts of the Dark Knight, the one whose tools were shadow and stealth. Who was merciless only to the point of death. A fallen angel whose duty was the protection of this city. But he had never seen him. Nor had he seen him fight. Tonight he saw everything.

It was Batman.

And he was terrifying.

With fluid ferocity, Batman flowed over and in between the terrified men who struck blindly as he weaved like smoke until each lay unconscious on the ground like marionettes with broken strings. So entranced Clark was, that he scarcely heard the sirens and was amazed that perhaps Batman had heard them too; as he left as swiftly as he had arrived, without a trace.

Clark let out a breath he didn't realize he had held. Batman was fear and darkness out for vengeance. He was force and will; an anti-hero whose mission was to protect, but not inspire anything except for dread. Not even his crest of Hope could completely protect him from that fear. He found the guise he wore was appropriate for Batman. Many people were afraid of bats. Although it was ironic that really people had very little to fear from them, that was not the case with Batman.

Clark took a deep breath and relaxed his body. He was being ridiculous. Batman attacked criminals, not other heroes. And he was Superman. Nothing from this Earth could hurt him. Besides, Batman had disappeared and the police were rounding up the thugs. His job had finished before it had started.

Finally he had a chance to absorb the scenery and the only word that could accurately describe Gotham was, well, depressing. Litter was everywhere, and so many buildings were in disrepair, and he saw a great deal of people in worn clothes walking the streets at night. However, he saw glimmers of hope as well. A city coming back from the brink of death. Perhaps that was Batman's doing.

"What are you doing in my city?" said a gravelly voice from behind him.

Again he felt amazed. No one in his whole life had been able to sneak up on him. He turned around slowly to see him half-cloaked in the shadow of twilight.

Clark swallowed roughly, but kept his confident composure. "I was just-"

"Gotham is my turf," he barked.

Although taken aback, he continued to speak with aplomb. "I didn't mean any disrespect. I help where I'm needed."

"I've seen what your help looks like and that isn't needed here."

Clark felt a flicker of anger in his chest, but he didn't respond. His fear of Batman had lessened. Although the way he looked at him wasn't at all comforting. His eyes were calculating points of blue light. Clark felt exposed and wondered if this was what it felt like to be x-rayed.

"So you're Superman. The Man of Steel. Tell me Man of Steel, how does it feel looking down on all of us?"

Batman was smirking. Now all the original fear and awe he had felt was replaced by an overwhelming urge to punch the man square in the face. But his parents raised him right, so he remained polite and direct.

"You don't like me very much."

"How could you tell?" Batman asked sarcastically.

Clark scoffed. "You don't even know me."

"Not yet. But I don't need novice heroes messing around in the world, not thinking about the consequences. Especially when those people are more powerful than a missile."

Clark stepped forward and stood at his full height. "I would never turn my back on my responsibilities."

"Maybe it would be better if you did."

Clark glared at Batman who was smirking again. All sense of consideration left him.

"Right. Because you've done a top-notch job here," Clark jabbed at him.

"My city still stands," he shot back.

Clark's heart sank. Batman was now stoic and deadly.

"Good bye Superman. I better not see you here again," he said sternly before he melted into the blackness. Surprisingly, Clark couldn't even see him, and he was glad for it.