I do not own Batman/Bruce Wayne, Superman/Clark Kent, Martian Manhunter/J'ohn J'ones, Dr. Leslie Thompkins, or Amanda Waller. DC does. I did create Alice, Madge, Jeannette, Evelyn, and Thomas, though. Please enjoy for free.

Basement Wayne Tower Eleven Years After Waynes' Deaths

Bruce stood up and went to a nearby computer screen typing in password after password while saying, "Go make sure the tunnel gets finished. I'm going to go to the top of the tower and update our message. If she wants to meet, and I keep her waiting, she'll be suspicious."

"And … about his brother?"

"I'll see if I can get any information from her, but if you run into John in the meantime, tell him everything you told me and that I'm talking with her." Bruce turned a hard stare on the Kryptonian. "Tell him to lie 'low.'"

"And … if your butler decides to encourage his friends to further investigate?"

Bruce pinched the top of his nose with a sigh. "Tell him Waller should have more direct access to the same information." He looked back to the screen and put in another password. A message came up. "She wants to meet on a boat in the harbor."

"Isn't that risky Bruce?"

"It shifts the power-dynamic in her favor, but I expected her to do that."

"If I get those finishing touches done on the tunnel and aren't called away, mind if I look in?"

Bruce paused. Superman stared at his frozen thinking face. "Bruce?"

"If she doesn't let me go … I want you to bring whatever information you get back to the team and John, but you cannot rescue me."

"Oh really?"

Bruce turned a glare on Superman, "She works under elected officials. Standing against her pits you against governments."

"World governments that don't announce they work with her. Some have gone on record saying her organization doesn't exist."

"She'll find a way to attack you through them."

"Our military is already trying to find a weapon to attack me with."

"All the militaries on earth are looking for the right weapon. Politicians are looking for the right excuse. Look what they've done to John! He's one of the most powerful beings on this planet and he's scared to show his real face to anyone outside this building!" Bruce stopped and ran his fingers through his hair. "I need to get that updated message sent and make this meeting with Waller. Can I trust you not to overreact?"

"To you being kidnapped by a shady government organization?"

"Yes."

"If things were reversed, there's no way you'd leave me in Waller's hands."

"I'm 'not' you! I am not the last Kryptonian! I'm not super-powered, and I can't cut the deaths caused by a natural disaster down by 90%!"

"But you'd never leave me in her hands."

"You've made that point.. Mine are still valid."

Superman's mouth twisted uncomfortably and he looked down. "Do I at least have your blessing to give the story of your capture to Lois?"

"No. Will it make you feel better if I say I'll be working to get myself free?"

"And I get to tell your team and new alien friends about it?"

"I've known them longer than I have you, but yes."

"Ouch! Fine."

"Good."

Gotham Docks Eleven Years After Waynes' Deaths

Bruce looked up at the ship with the name in the message. Men in the normal clothing of dock workers with the bulging muscles of those used to loading and unloading heavy goods approached. The tense yet poised way they held themselves though hinted at something else. Bruce moved out of sight of the rest of the dock, held his arms out, and let them frisk him.

Apparently, they were only looking for weapons and recording devices, which he didn't need since Superman had finished the tunnel by the time he finished updating the message. They didn't find the devices to extract himself from cuffs and locked cells should things go awry. Or, maybe they realized they were there and were waiting to let him release himself after capture in order to tail him.

One of the men poked him in the back, and they moved onto the boat. It had rust and faded paint on the outside. Inside, it was exquisitely clean. Everyone there moved with the same alert military precision as his escorts. He was taken below the bridge, which he fought his instincts to not fight against. They took him to the doorway of a room with a nailed down table, two nailed down chairs, and Amanda Waller sitting in one. Also, a fat folder lay on the table. He sat in the empty chair across from Waller's. His escorts moved around the table to flank her. They stared at him arms free at their sides. Waller smiled at him. "Bruce, you look tired."

"Why am I here?"

"I think a fugitive who's a danger to every human on the planet is in your city."

"1. Is this a friendly warning or request? 2. What makes you think this person is here? 3. Do you have reason to believe they have plans for Gotham other than hiding among its populace?"

"1. Both. 2. The fugitive requested to be taken here, a contact of this person was seen in the area, and their trademark move seems to have been made on a local. 3. Not yet."

"Who was affected by this fugitive?"

"Samson Roberts."

Bruce let some irritation show on his face. Waller smirked. "Our fugitive may just want to hide here, but his long-term goal should make you as eager to capture him as we are."

"Which is?"

"Planet-wide invasion."

Bruce carefully raised an eyebrow. "You're not talking about Superman are you?" He watched her face intently for a reaction.

Tension stretched her face. A flicker of frustration flashed in her eyes. "No. He could probably do a lot of damage all on his own." Waller slid the folder closer and opened it. Bruce panicked for a moment that he had revealed too much in his initial reaction. Studying the images further though, he thought anyone born with empathetic or fear responses, who hadn't had them completely trained out of them, would have done the same or more.

Waller's rather smug voice made him hope he'd only responded as she expected, which could be good, or very bad. "What do you see?"

"Unwrapped mummies left out on the sand?"

"If you'll notice the footprints leading up to their feet, they seem to have walked themselves to these positions and collapsed before their bodies further dried."

Note to self … do not let John stay somewhere he could dehydrate … "So, there are two mummies in my city?"

"No, at least one extraterrestrial."

He looked up raising an eyebrow in an expression of doubt. "And 'these' are your currently dangerous fugitives launching an invasion?"

"We think they were spies sent to prepare us for an invasion later. And yes, they are both still alive. They're apparently a resilient species."

She flipped a few pages. Bruce beheld images of the martian he called John staring blankly while lying on a metal table. The opposite page showed a seeming smaller more oval-headed version of John. Waller continued. "These are the same specimens after being soaked in a solution meant to make autopsying them easier."

Bruce carefully kept his face and form still. "So, water is important to them?"

"Apparently."

"How soon after these were taken did they become a problem?"

"A few hours. They were placed in cooling units to preserve them until experts could be identified and brought in to do the actual autopsies."

"And they showed no signs of life beforehand?"

"Some documentation was carefully carried out like these images and some notes, but there isn't as much as I could wish. From what I could gather, the team that carried out the discovery, transportation, and original examinations, as well as the team that carried out the re-hydration and preservation were so certain they were dead, they didn't do due diligence to confirm it."

"How do you know they're extraterrestrials?"

Waller flipped back to an earlier page which showed a broken and burnt mess of metal. "That fell out of the sky and landed in the desert."

"Why should we fear an invasion by their species? We have Superman."

She flipped farther ahead in the documents than she had before. Bruce allowed real compassion to wash over her face. He studied the photograph of a muscled African American man in an army uniform with wide open eyes and slightly open mouth not looking into the camera even though it was held mere inches over his face. Waller's voice, even and authoritarian, betrayed nothing. "This is what at least one of the invaders was able to do to a decorated soldier. He never came out of the coma extraterrestrial B. put him into."

"This is your father isn't it?"

"Yes."

Bruce nodded. "Were others harmed?"

Waller flipped more pages ahead to show other young fit men lying limply on grass, concrete, and wooden floors, but with closed eyes and mouths. "These recovered, some in days, others in hours."

"Was there a pattern in their recovery times?"

For the first time, there was a noticeable pause before Waller answered. "They got shorter over time."

"These all look like undercover operatives."

"They were."

"Do either of these extraterrestrials have a history of harming civilians?"

Waller flipped to a page of a man with grey hair in a dirty shirt and overalls lying on the ground, with closed eyes, and a shotgun in his hands.

"Were all those knocked unconscious by these extraterrestrials armed?"

"Knocked unconscious yes, but these are some victims of mind-reading when one of the extraterrestrials, Specimen A., infiltrated the KGB in Russia."

Bruce flinched at the images of terrified people, men and women, young and old all wide-eyed and blank-faced. "Have you talked to the KGB?"

"We have cooperated with each other, once we realized we'd 'both' been compromised by non-human invaders from another planet."

"What communications have you intercepted and translated that laid out there plans?"

There was another long silence, then Waller said, "They read minds, and 'shape-shift' Bruce. They can look like anyone and infiltrated two separate space-programs. The one in Russia switched to secret-police work and then to experiments in linking human brains to an overriding brain-washing machine."

"So … you 'haven't' caught them communicating with anyone off the planet, or each other, about their plans for earth?"

"Sometimes you have to go off the most obvious inference."

"True."

"Let me lay out the deal I want to offer you."

Bruce raised his gaze from the images in front of him and then leaned back in his chair. Waller leaned forward and folded her hands on the table pinning him with her stare. "You've been making inroads on breaking up one illegal business of one cartel in your city after months of work as the Batman. You risk your health, your reputation, and your life with very little progress to show for it." Waller smirked. "I've had new members of my team cutting their teeth investigating the various criminal organizations in Gotham. Apparently, many of the lieutenants, most of the middle managers, and all the heads of Gotham's several Cartels', can be linked to federal crimes, which means they could be successfully prosecuted for them outside of Gotham City's jurisdiction."

Bruce scowled. "Then why haven't they been?"

"Evidence of campaign contributions and under table bribes were also discovered, but that would only allow for more pressure to be applied to the right people. Imagine it Bruce, all at once raids sweep up the upper echelons of every criminal organization in Gotham. They then flip on their dirty politicians, judges, and D.A.s ..."

Bruce worked his jaw slightly clasping his own hands in front of him. "All that for the capture and handing over to you of one or two extraterrestrials?"

"Yes."

"Which you and others haven't been able to capture for decades?"

"You don't feel up for the task?"

Bruce froze for a moment and then continued, "And if I 'can't' do this for you …" His voice went from blank and distant to a guttural growl, "You're just going to let Gotham continue as it is?"

"You, were the one who earlier didn't want my help on the condition you work for me without question. This is your and Gotham's second chance from me. You can do this one thing and walk away."

"I see. Still, I'd think as someone who likes law and order … you would like to change Gotham to have those anyway."

"I have a planet to worry about Bruce. I think with your skills and my experience, contacts, and resources, we could have already put several Gothams' straight, but I'm also willing to trade a chance at preventing planet-wide invasion and mind-slavery of the human race for cleaning up Gotham City. What do you say?"

Bruce shut the folder and slid it back toward Waller. "Why should I say 'no'?"

Back Gate of Ainsley Manor Eleven Years After Waynes' Deaths

Bruce pushed the button on the intercom. Then he waited till the tall and scarred Thomas walked toward him with his godmother. His honorary aunt and psychologist strove to not only keep up but reach him first. "Bruce, I thought you said you didn't want anyone to know you were back from your travels? The girls are upstairs in the manor, but …" She trailed off upon seeing his face. She waited till Thomas had opened the gate before asking. "Bruce, what is it?"

"Can we go to the bench at the center of the maze and talk alone?"

"Of course."

Center of Rosebush Maze of Ainsley Manor Eleven Years After Waynes' Deaths

Bruce sat on the stone bench, head bowed so his forehead rested on his clasped hands. His godmother stared at him with wide eyes. "What is it Bruce?"

"I have to doom one or many. I've decided, but …"

"That doesn't mean the cost you've chosen won't weigh on you. Can you give more details?"

Bruce sucked in a deep breath, raised his head, and set his chin on his still folded hands. He stared at a late-blooming rose some yards away. "Tell me how Alice and Madge are doing."

"Alice loves the work here, especially with the dogs. But, I still don't trust her if Samson visits. I told Evelyn not to come on too strongly warning her even if she understands better than most. Madge tends to cloister herself in her room and come out with more drawings, whenever she's not busy elsewhere. She has a better talent for her art than the housework. I think she struggles with doing the exercises given to her by that through-the-mail-art-class my sister signed her up for rather than whatever she's inspired to do, though."

"Jeannette went back to Samson. Left the hospital with her eye and ribs and other injuries healed, and went right back."

"I know. I tried to talk her out of it and even tried with Madge, remember?"

"I saw her last night. She didn't look up from her feet as she walked with a group of women between guards that escort them now."

"That's not your fault."

"They're bringing in women, who can't speak English, to make up the difference for the ones who got away, because of my work."

Leslie sighed. "You told me, when you started this, you understood it could get worse before it got better, but that you couldn't stand by and do nothing."

"I could do one thing, and do more good for them, than I could in years of doing what I am now." A single tear rolled down the big man's cheek as he bowed his head again.

Leslie took in a deep breath, pushed all her desire to say "I told you so" away and began rubbing her godson's back. Soon, she realized his jacket was covered in fall leaves. "You had to walk through the forest to lose someone?"

"After going through my clothing for bugs …"

Leslie picked something off and threw it away. "Not the real kind …"

Bruce gave a soft smile. "No." Then his voice came out even softer. "Thank you …"

What do you think now?

Whumptober 23rd 2024 prompt "forced choice."

God bless

ScribeofHeroes