I do not own Dr. Leslie Thomkins, Superman/Clark Kent/Kal El, Alfred Pennyworth, Lucius Fox, Martian Manhunter/J'ohn J'ones, or Batman/Bruce Wayne. I did create Thomas and Alice.

Ainsley Manor Kitchen Eleven Years After Waynes' Deaths

Leslie ran her hands over the big dog in the kitchen. "No bullets or blood or broken ribs down here." She ran her fingertips carefully over the dog's skull. "No seeming cracks or fissures or bumps here either …"

Thomas tapped Dr. Thomkin's shoulder. She turned her head and saw him holding a piece of paper over her shoulder. She grabbed and then read the words on it. "Superman said it looked like he was drugged."

Batcave Eleven Years After Waynes' Deaths

Superman flew into the cave. A freshly awakened Lucius Fox was looking over some equations but turned squinted eyes upon the new arrivals. They widened as they took in the sight of the Martian lying limply in the Kryptonian's arms. "What on earth?"

Superman's face creased in concern. "I don't know. He won't wake up. His cells aren't behaving as usual, and … I think he may have been shot …"

Lucius rose from his chair. He pointed to a cot near the cabinets of medical supplies. "Put him over there."

Superman carried the Martian to the bed indicated and laid him out on it. Lucius picked up and pulled over various pieces of medical equipment. He began putting metal nods connected to wires on the Martian's chest and head. "Maybe we should have Dr. Thomkins come look at him."

"I just saw her. Folks seemed pretty busy over where she is now, but other than a bruised cheek and drugged dog ..."

Lucius shook his head. "I never thought I'd say this, but I'm not sure I want to know ..."

Alfred came down a set of stairs and then strode over to the group already gathered. Lucius looked up at him. "Did you know about this?"

"I went ahead and contacted our Kryptonian friend here after hearing a bit of the harrowing tale of recent events at Ainsley Manor … It seems things may have settled down over there now though." He paused and glanced down at the unresponsive Martian. "Perhaps I should call back and ask for Leslie …"

Lucius flashed a light into the Martian's eyes. Then he sighed. "What with the strength of their odd red glow, even now, I can't find a pupil to examine."

Superman turned a furrowed stare on the engineer. "I could have told you his brain's not swollen … or bleeding."

Lucius shut off the light and met the Kryptonian's gaze with shining eyes of his own. "You can, can you?"

Superman looked back to his friend and shook his head. "His chest really isn't bleeding either."

Lucius nodded looking back down at the patient. "I can see this piercing mark you mentioned. There's some kind of callous around the entry wound?"

"It looks like a biological response to stop bleeding."

Alfred stared at the two heads over the prone alien form for a silent moment. Holding his own hands clasped behind his back, he asked, "So, should I wake Master Bruce or call Dr. Thomkins?"

Superman straightened and looked at Lucius Fox again. "Last time he was unresponsive, Bruce put an IV in his arm. Less than two minutes later he woke up, but that was after getting electrocuted."

Lucius nodded and headed to the medical supplies. "We can still do that and hope for the best. And since he needs so many calories, Alfred, I expect going on to cook more food would be the best use of your time. I ... think we should let Bruce sleep for now ... at least till there's more sign of an emergency.

Alfred nodded. "That I can do."

Superman, though, pursed his lips. "I should ..."

Alfred interrupted "I can keep a radio on in the kitchen tuned to a channel that talks about emergencies going on around the globe."

A small warm smile washed over the superhero's face. "Thanks." It always amused him how people who met Superman assumed he just "lived" life as Superman alone, particularly when they realized he only needed sunlight, but not food or even sleep if he got enough sunlight. No one really suspiscioned Clark Kent being connected to him, but they might if he kept leaving the office for so long ... or he might even get fired. Or Lois would grow even more suspicious. That last possibility might be the worst he mused.

Wayne Manor Bruce's Bedroom Eleven Years After Waynes' Deaths

"Bruce …"

Bruce rolled over. Then he squinted up at the tall, shadowed figure towering over his bed in his room darkened by the thick curtains covering the windows. His heart didn't beat any faster though, since he recognized the voice. "Clark?"

"Yeah, it's me. Listen. I had to leave again. There was a reported wildfire out west, and I already took care of it. But since you've slept for a while now, and I should head back to the office, Perry will be furious, I think you should sit with Moe ..."

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh … Sorry ... I ... M ... 'John' seems to be comatose."

"WHAT?"

"We think J'ohn got shot over at Ainsley manor. Alfred can tell you more."

Bruce threw a pillow over his head and growled. Then he tossed it off. He sat up and reached for a bathrobe lying on the bed mumbling in a low voice. "I haven't checked my room in a few days. Do you see any listening devices?"

"Uh, just one with wires that lead to what seems like a used a bedroom down the hall and the kitchen."

Bruce froze. Alfred bugged his room. Well, that was not "too" surprising. He threw on some slippers. "Alright, Alfred probably already suspicions since I gave him your phone number."

"He bugged your room."

"Probably in case 'people' sneak in here ..."

"Oh."

"With less good intent than you ..." Bruce lowered his voice till he thought the Kryptonian would hear it, but a microphone even Alfred could get his hands on wouldn't pick it up. "Go on Clark. And if Perry White fires you and you don't mind working for me or Lucius in Gotham, I'm sure we can find something for you to do here …"

He felt Superman get uncomfortably close to his ear, but he couldn't complain since he insisted on secrecy so much and they were in too dark a room for him to read his lips.

"Bruce, I'm a journalist …"

"Wayne Enterprises has need of researchers and that's basically what you do."

The pair of lips moved away from him, for which he was grateful. "True" They moved back for the next part, however, and then thankfully away again. "But I'd like to stay at the Daily Planet if I can."

Bruce grimly changed the subject. "You said John is comotose?"

The Kryptonian's voice lowered and saddened, but didn't buzz in his ear. "Yeah, but ... he's stable. At least ... His cells are behaving differently and his heartbeat it's extremely slow, but steady ..."

"Good to know."

Ainsley Manor Eleven Years After Waynes' Deaths

The Veterinarian straightened first his back and then his glasses over Juniper's still limp, and now audibly snoring form. "Well, honestly … I think your suspicions are right. He's been drugged. I've seen this before. Particularly when trespassers get on property with guard dogs."

Alice hovered nearer the veterinarian's turned back than Evelyn or Dr. Thomkins. Her voice though was a near inaudible whisper. "So, he wasn't shot?"

"Not that I can see, I believe he'll be fine."

The Veterinarian turned around and found himself nearly deafened by a jumping and shouting Alice. "Thank you!"

Batcave Eleven Years After Waynes' Deaths

J'ohn's eyes glowed brighter. He turned his head to meet the tired gaze of Bruce Wayne. The man's voice sounded calm if a little rough. "Welcome back."

"How did I get here?"

"Superman brought you it seems. I was asleep in my room, having fooled myself into thinking you might stay out of trouble till I woke up again. How did you become unconscious in my Aunt Ainsley's woods?"

"I protected the young human Alice in the form of her beloved dog. The man shot at me. I let it happen to avoid suspicions, but I did manage to slow the bullet. It didn't go very deep. Later, after scaring him, I let my body go into hibernation. I figured one of you would come for me."

"It could have been Waller."

"How did you bring me out of hibernation so fast? I thought it would be days or weeks."

"We put an IV into you. It's worked before. And I also suggested a heating blanket."

"Ah, Martians wake up when our surroundings are moist and warm."

"Good to know. But next time, can you avoid the bullet?"

"How many times have you been shot and brought down here for treatment Bruce?"

"I wear a vest."

Club in the South Side of Gotham City Eleven Years After Waynes' Deaths

Samson drank another drink. His hand trembled as he lowered it to the surface of the bar. "I swear it was like some ghost. But it was green, and had red eyes, and … I hadn't drunk or even eaten anything in hours ... I had to be sober ... They're right about ... weird things hanging around those big old houses near this city ... I can't stand it here any longer ..."

Samson devolved into cursing. The man near him, who'd bought his drinks and listened to him before, poured another and pushed it close to his only slightly steadier hand as anger replaced terror.

The other man then looked up and fixed him with his gaze trying to keep the excitement out of his voice and eyes with practiced expertise. "Do you have any other details of where you saw this … ghost? Which old house was it behind?"

What do you think now?

God bless

ScribeofHeroes