When Clark thinks of Gotham City, he thinks of a red sky, gothic buildings, and blood spilling across the street as if it were rain.
What Clark finds is a surprisingly sunny day, a regularly busy populous, and...well, gothic buildings are still accurate.
He inspects it as Clark Kent, Daily Planet reporter, first. As Mr. Wayne suggested, it's best to leave the colorful suit and heroic poses until he's gathered what exactly Gotham needs from Superman.
So, undercover in his secret identity, Clark pretends to read a Gotham Gazette paper as he watches the morning workers travel to their jobs. A good portion of them go straight to Wayne Tower. Wayne certainly wasn't joking when he said he offered a lot to this city and jobs have certainly been a noticeable one this early in the morning.
The other thing Clark notices is that while no one has been stabbed in broad daylight, seventeen people have been pickpocketed and twice as many are hiding lethal weapons under their clothes. Not just guns, but small flash grenades and sprays of various kinds.
On the outside, it seems like any other city, but Clark has already seen the effect of the crimes. It's made these people scared. Possibly reactive.
That could cause just as much death as any mugger.
From nine to ten o'clock, the city lies relatively quiet. From twelve to one, Clark catches an injured bird and helps a cat out of a tree. Once three o'clock hits, it's as if a light switch flips on. Cries echo out from several corners of the city: a bank is being robbed, someone is cornered by a mugger, a child is screaming for his mother-
Clark acts immediately. He finds a safe place to pull off his civilian clothes and zips into the air at neck-breaking speeds. With the city's layout still foreign, Clark uses the sounds as a beacon. He circles the area three times before he finds the right alley way; and after that, it's only a matter of flashing his chest and knocking the mugger out.
He's just about to fly away when the woman, who was crying for help before, gives him a look of disgust.
"Um...can I help you, Ma'am?" Clark asks with a painted-on smile.
"Aren't you supposed to be in Metropolis?" She sniffs, gathering her purse back to her side. "Was I just that pitiful that The Great Protector of 'Progress City' had to come flying across the river?"
Clark has never had a civilian take being saved so...personally.
"No, no, Ma'am!" He's quick to assure her. "I am simply giving Gotham my aid. It's a new development."
She raises an eyebrow. "Does the GCPD know that?"
It wasn't exactly broadcasted, but that was by design. They didn't want to give the Gotham rogues a chance to plan ahead, to prepare for Superman's arrival in their city. But Mayor James also had no intention of keeping it a secret. If he did, it would be likely the worst Clark has ever tried to keep.
But surely the police force has been informed of it, right?
"Trust me, I am where I belong." He leaves with a nod, gunshots now sounding from that bank robbery.
He flies across the city and lands in front of the wide doors of Gotham Bank. For a moment, Clark listens in, trying to gauge just how dangerous the situation is before he goes bursting in. From the sounds inside, twenty-three heartbeats echo through the building. One of the robbers is making a speech about the new gangs in town and just how they plan to take over. It's all common nonsense, but what Clark is listening for are signs someone has been shot already. Thankfully, he hears none.
Superman throws the doors open -careful not to rip them clean off their hinges- and steps into the wide room. Everyone jumps at the sudden noise, but no gunshots go off. The gang of five turn to look at him, their variously colored masks doing nothing to hide their shock, anger, then confusion.
"Who are you supposed to be?" The one in red, who was making the speech before, asks.
How does he answer that?
"I am Superman and I'm here to protect these good people of Gotham." He stands, hands on hips. This feels like his week as Superman and that brings Clark very little comfort. It's difficult to know how someone will respond to him when they don't know just what he can do.
"You look like a clown." Blue Mask says. "No, Joker looks like a clown. You're worse."
Clark blinks. "Excuse me?"
The purple mask laughs, his gun held out carelessly as he looks fully at Superman. "Primary colors? What, did yer mama run out of fabric?"
Is he getting made fun of? In the middle of trying to stop a robbery?
"Ha! Look at the S on his chest! Who puts the first letter of their name on their costume?!" Green Mask chortles.
"It stands for 'hope'!" Clark defends.
"Did you skip English class too?" Purple Mask snorts.
Red Mask steps up, the glee still obvious on his face. "Look here, Superman. This is Gotham, not your little playground. We mean business." He adjusts his grip on his gun. "And if you don't want these fine people getting shot," a gesture around the room, "then you best go right back through that door and forget you said anything."
Clark keeps his smile in place as he steps towards the man until they're nearly chest-to-chest. If Gotham's criminals won't take him seriously, then he will simply have to teach them.
"I understand, but I can't let you take these citizen's money." Faster than Red Mask can react, Clark grabs the gun and bends it in half. He drops it, then shoves past the man to do the same to his friends.
The change is immediate.
"Get him-" Clark makes quick work of the gang members, not a single bullet leaving the new smashed guns that have piled up on the floor. When they try to run, Clark pulls them back in by their jackets and holds them together with a lamp post. They struggle and curse, but they won't be getting away.
Finally, after pulling their masks off, Clark nods to himself in satisfaction and flies off before the police arrive. He would stay to give his witness or at least introduce himself to the first responders, but he has little time now. There will be another chance, Clark is sure, but that child is still crying.
It turns out to be a false alarm when Clark appears on the scene, only to find that someone has already taken the child to their mother, the two hugging lovingly in Gotham Park.
He can't exactly insert himself into this, so away Superman goes. He flies high above the city roofs, next to Wayne Tower, and listens to the sounds of Gotham. They're different. All of it is different and after that robbery, Clark isn't nearly as confident he's doing what he needs for these people.
What does Batman do? As their native vigilante, surely they -he? Does the name imply Batman is a, well, man? Regardless, following in Batman's steps could do more good than bad.
But after hours of simple crimes -nearly all of which end in Superman being made fun of or waved off- there is still no sign of Batman. Not a shadow, not a whisper. Not a word.
Even as night falls as Clark returns to Gotham after helping Metropolis, he still finds nothing that would indicate Batman even exists.
Not until one rescue, that is.
"Go away." The kid, no older than seventeen, says. "I'm waiting for Batman."
"So he exists?" Clark asks.
The kid scoffs as if it were obvious. "Duh. He saved my dad from some bad people last month. I wanted to thank him."
"...By getting yourself kidnapped?" Clark looks down towards the honestly dangerous-looking man who had kidnapped the kid. Grubby fingers and sick smiles have never paired well with children. Clark would hate to imagine what would've happened had he not shown up.
But the kid seems unbothered. "Yeah. You can't just ask for him to show up, Idiot. You gotta be in trouble. But now you ruined it." They glare, dark bangs hanging over darker eyes. The kid looks poor, but that could also be an act.
"I won't apologize for saving you." Clark crosses his arms. "Looking out for danger like this is dangerous. You should know better after what happened to your father."
"Well, now I have to do it again."
Clark kneels in front of the kid. "You could've died tonight. Or, you could've been very hurt. People who go looking for kids like you aren't safe. Do you really want your father to lose you?"
"But Batman-"
"I will find Batman," Clark promises. "I'll tell him you wanted to thank him, alright? But please, don't do this to your father again. Don't do this to yourself."
The kid rolls their eyes, but their strong will does bend. Their eyes cast down and their bottom lip sticks out in a gentle pout. "Alright. For Dad." They nod. "Now untie me and I'll walk home."
Oh, absolutely not. "I'll untie you and escort you." Clark corrects. "The city is dangerous at night. I can't have you getting kidnapped again. Wouldn't that be embarrassing?"
They huff a laugh. "Yeah, I guess so."
It's good enough of an answer for Clark.
Once the kid is untied and the criminal has taken their place, the two of them walk the streets to the teen's home. Clark listens for the most part; to the kids's story, how their father's been, how they managed to plan their own kidnapping. It's said so casually, as if it's normal to track down their own kidnapper like some kind of detective. Gotham's youth have definitely been affected by the state of their home.
Clark only hopes the next generation can live a little more carefree.
Once they reach the apartment, Clark gives his farewell and watches the kid unlock their door and step inside. But just as he's about to turn away, the kid returns, peeking out from inside.
"You don't belong here, you know." They say, voice somehow both casual and ominous. "You're too bright. There's a reason why no one sees Batman."
"Are you sure this city doesn't need a little bright?" He tries for a joke, but it falls flat. "I'll...uh, find Batman for you. I promise."
The kid doesn't speak again, simply shuts the door after him.
The police at least recognize Superman.
"Hey! I've seen you in the papers! Why are you over here in Gotham?!"
"Are you selling action figures? My daughter would love a Superman toy!"
Clark waves their questions as kindly as he can. "Sorry, no figures. I'm not exactly a businessman." The thought of walking into a store and seeing himself as a poorly molded plastic figure is one he's never considered before. He's not sure he would quite enjoy it, but the sentiment is nice.
"Leave the man be, Barnes." An older man comes walking up to them, his red hair greying at the temples, as well as his mustache. He looks tired when he joins them, his large glasses reflecting the street light. "You two have a report to write, don't you? Get moving." He snaps and the two officers climb back into their and drive off with the drunk woman Clark had just brought in.
She wouldn't have been a problem, had she not been carrying a homemade grenade with her. Honestly, what is with this city?
The man, likely a detective or deputy, stands by Clark's side. He lights a cigarette, offers one to Clark -who refuses-, then puts the pack away.
A large lamp flashes above them, the symbol of a bat shining into the clouds. Clark has never seen anything like it.
"So, you're Superman." The man grumbles after he lets out a longer drag. "Comissoner Gordan. I'd say it's a pleasure, but it's not."
Clark looks down at him. "Pardon?"
After another long pull, Gordon looks at him properly. His face looks tired but his eyes burn. "I appreciate your help today, but get out of my city."
He thinks of bringing up Mayor James and their agreement, but it's clear no one here in Gotham cares what their mayor decided. Instead, Clark lets his shoulders drop a half-inch and his own exhaustion starts to take hold. "You know, Mr. Wayne said something similar. 'Don't fuck up my city', if I'm remembering right."
"Huh. Sounds like he was sober for once."
Clark's gaze returns to that bat symbol. "I was ordered to come here, to help. Even if you, or the criminals, or even the civilians don't want me, I'm here to stay."
"You gonna die on that hill?"
The Commissioner draws Clark's attention once again. "What?"
"You know they'll find a way to get rid of you eventually. If outright telling you to leave won't work, the rogues will find out every single one of your weaknesses. And given the lack of respect, I'd say they wouldn't even hesitate to kill you."
The thought seems absurd, but Clark knows better than to underestimate his enemies. He did that with Luthor and Clark almost died to a rock he didn't even know existed. He won't make the same mistake.
Gordon continues. "We aren't built for you meta-humans. The criminals here aren't whatever you're used to on Krypton. They're sick people, but they're just people. And even the mutants aren't much compared to that-uh-Zod, was it?" He takes another drag. "Besides, you have a habit of crashing through buildings."
"And Batman?" Clark asks, near desperate. "If he thinks I can help-"
"Please. I'm surprised The Bat hasn't personally told you to fuck off yet. He's not very...friendly. And he certainly won't like Mr. Colors here trying to ruin his careful detective work."
Another confirmation that Batman is, in fact, real. And also male, not that it matters nearly as much. "He's a detective?" Clark asks.
"Sort of. He's no part of the law, but I trust that man more than half of my own. He's quick, damn smart, and has a good judge of character. If Batman doesn't trust someone, neither will I."
"You really believe in him that much?" To trust a vigilante's word over your own officers and department is quite the feat. Clark isn't sure whether to think Commissioner Gordan naive or Batman trustworthy.
Gordon shrugs. "He'll find you eventually, if you're stupid enough to stick around. And if he comes back to me, tells me you're only in it for yourself, then I'll make sure you never fly again. Got that?"
A bold message, but one Clark somehow believes the man can follow through on.
"I don't want to be your enemy." He tries.
"Then get out of Gotham."
No Batman this chapter, but he'll be here soon! I promise!