I do not own Superman/Clark Kent/Kal El, Martian Manhunter/J'ohn J'ones, Batman Bruce Wayne, Amanda Waller, or Leslie Thomkins. DC does. Please enjoy this chapter for free.

Have Past Noon: Sky Over Wayne Manor: Eleven Years After Waynes' Deaths

For a time, the aliens sat in silence. Then, both noticed the approach of a certain human. By unspoken agreement they let their silence continue until he arrived. The beam of a flashlight swept over both of them before Bruce's tension tightened voice did. "Have things calmed down here?"

Superman gave his friend a small smile. "Yeah, I think so …" He looked at the Martian.

The other alien nodded. "I am … calmer, yes."

Bruce strode nearer. "So, I was right to call in Superman?"

The Martian gave a small smile of his own. "You mean Kal El?"

Bruce's brow furrowed before he glanced at the Kryptonian. "Yes … Kal El."

Superman sighed. "My alien identity doesn't connect me to the living Bruce. What harm does it do for the people of earth to know about it? They trust me more, because I tell them the truth."

Bruce raised an eyebrow. "We'll see." He then looked back to the Martian. "How are you physically?"

"I … expended a good deal of strength."

The Batman took off a backpack he'd been wearing, placed it on the cavern floor littered with broken stalactites, and unzipped it. He took out a water bottle and a package wrapped in foil. "Lucius and I developed rations to quickly replace and repair what's lost in exertion. The fat and protein content will hopefully help 'if' you can eat it."

"I will … some." The Martian removed the cap from the bottle first and drank its contents. Bruce responded by removing a second bottle from the bag and placing it in front of him. John gave another slight smile. Then he frowned. "You both do much for one who has failed so many ..."

Bruce froze. He turned a knob on the flashlight dimming its beam before turning it on his own face. The human's expression was still clear to the green alien as he gazed at him. "You haven't failed either of us."

Superman smiled and nodded from where he sat. The Martian gave a half-smile. "I have at least been lucky in my friendships, if not my family relationships, since I left Mars ..." (I have lost much, but also gained much. It is like the universe can't decide if it wants to punish or reward me.)

Bruce kept his serious gaze on the Martian. "Do you need Kal El to stay?"

Superman straightened. "I'll stay."

John interrupted. "Perhaps you should return to work … You have been away from it a lot lately."

Bruce added. "'I' can stay … at least until sunset."

Superman gave the Martian a long look. The other alien tried to smile back. "I am much calmer now Kal El … truly."

Bruce added, "Since it is still your lunch hour though, you might want to take a look over at Ainsley Manor first. Waller and a team of agents are there. I'd like to know what they are or aren't finding out and doing to the manor's residents."

Superman's face went straight and hard as he nodded. A stiff breeze occurred in his wake that cast a cloud of dust over the human and Martian. John gave another soft sad smile as he wiped it off his face. "Does he know he does that?"

"He must, but he might forget when his mind is set on something else."

The human and Martian then sat in silence together both thinking of what the Kryptonian may or may not learn, but the Martian's mind was inevitably dragged another direction. "Bruce, is it true you once died?"

A few more beats of silence after the question were asked, Bruce asked his own. "He told you that?"

"Yes …"

"He shouldn't have."

"He didn't give many details. I hope you both forgive me for prying further, but I must know …"

"What exactly?"

"What was it like?"

"Which part?"

The Martian started slightly before asking. "What do you mean?"

"The body struggling to survive before it eventually fails … or … after?" Bruce tilted his head his stare growing more intense after he asked.

"Both … I suppose …"

A silence of several seconds ended with Bruce's voice, which sounded tighter and quieter than before. "I can't shed light on death by burning John ..."

"Perhaps not. But … 'Please' … I have to know whatever you can tell me."

After the Martian's voice trailed off, the human sighed. "I'll only tell you the truth."

"That is what I need."

"I might not tell you 'all' of it."

"Just tell me what you feel you can 'please.'"

Bruce gave a loud and long exhale before beginning. "I thought I'd known fear before, but dying slowly … as your body fights it … is different. Instinct replaces reason, compassion, pity. I think if certain things hadn't happened afterward, I'd be ashamed of what I put … 'Kal El' through."

"Truly? Your own words seem to prove any would do the same in your situation."

"Don't tell me you don't feel guilt for things you think anyone might have done in your place."

John frowned and then nodded. "If I had 'not' obeyed the rules of our people, if I'd gone with what I 'knew,' instead of bowing to the wisdom of my elders, I might have fled our home with my wife and daughters not gone into exile while they stayed. I might have then saved them from the burning. Yet, I did not know of another Martian who would have stood up to their council and sought to live and support a family alone like that. We count on our community too much. It is ingrained in us … Yet …. And if I had not killed our enemy on his own ship, my brother and I may not have been stranded on earth. I might have found my niece … Yet …"

"You can't imagine another Martian … any other who'd lived and had that opportunity not doing the same."

"And yet … And yet …"

Another silence of about a minute followed Bruce didn't break, so the Martian broke it instead. "What things?"

"What?"

"You said, 'If certain things hadn't happened after …' What kept you from feeling ashamed of yourself later?"

"Ah … I'm not sure you're ready for that."

"Bruce, 'Please!' What kept you from feeling ashamed?"

"Do your own people have any beliefs about such things?"

"What happens to a person after death? Yes. We call it the 'last cavern' we enter. A male Martian is to leave his birth cavern, venture out, and find another with a female Martian he wishes to make his life-long mate. Then he works to get her community to accept him as a member of it, a hunter and supporter of it, so he can then ask that female Martian to be his mate. He will then support her and that community with food and add to their number with his children with her. It is believed by doing all these things well, after we leave the cavern of our bodies, and thus our marriage community, we are more likely to be accepted into the next and last cavern we reach through the tunnel of death."

Bruce contemplated that for a few minutes before asking, "And do you still believe any of that?"

"I am afraid to now, Bruce. I failed my wife, children, and her community. I failed my brother. I've done such a mixture of good and bad here on earth for your people, humans. I've outright abandoned some of them I called my children. I may very well have failed my niece. And my brother … if any of those things count against me in the last cavern … what became of my brother?"

Bruce rubbed a hand over his face. "I see. That's why all this matters so much to you …"

"Bruce … 'Please' tell me … what helped to you? It may not be the same for me, but please! What made you feel less ashamed 'after' you died and came back?"

Bruce sighed before he responded. "If it comforts you, the greatest pain and challenge I experienced was coming back."

The Martain's head jerked up. He stared at the human while Bruce continued, "I was afraid to tell you because you seemed so depressed almost welcoming of death lately."

"'That' is what you have been hiding?"

"Some of it. 'Someone' first made me feel ashamed and then took that shame away in the place I ended up, which didn't resemble a cavern to me."

"Who?"

"Someone I had earlier surrendered to … So, I was let into his kingdom. I met my mother and father and others there too."

"So that part is true?"

"It's what 'I' experienced, and yes, I think it's true for others too."

"Was it … Did it have anything to do with what I've pretended to understand when gathering with humans on some days where they sit, and listen, and sing?"

Bruce's brows furrowed slightly as he stared at the Martian. "So, you've always 'pretended' to understand on those days and in those places?"

The Martian shrugged. "I was afraid to ask, afraid to seem like I didn't understand and reveal myself as a stranger."

"We all start out as strangers in such places at such times. And yes. I 'thought' I understood it. I hadn't lived a perfect life; a life I knew the one I 'should' have been living to please could be unashamed of me for living. So, at first my shame increased with him. Then I was calmed down. After that, I met people I'd lost, as I said, and it hurt to come back. One more thing I'll tell you, though, in hopes it will help. I found someone there I didn't expect, who'd killed humans, and who I used to hate."

"Who?"

"Joseph Chill."

The Martian's red eyes widened as he stared at Bruce Wayne.

Half Past Noon: Spare Office of Ainsley Manor: Eleven Years After Waynes' Deaths

Alice stared wide-eyed at the agent. "Did I do it right?"

The agent flipped through the papers she'd written the events of the "day of interest," from her perspective, on. "You wrote that you fell down while talking to 'Samson.' Then you crossed that out and seem to have written something else in fine print above it before erasing that out even though I told you not to erase anything you originally wrote down."

Alice ducked her head. "Sorry …"

The Agent looked up sharply at her. Samson had been the one who reported a likely encounter with the target, so every detail surrounding that encounter was important to get right. "What happened then Miss?"

"I … he hit me."

"Ah!" The Agent wrote that down putting his initials beside that and glancing down at the recorder to make certain it was indeed recording and would match his note. After that, he looked back at her. "This happened before the dog attacked him?"

"Yes."

He smiled. "I see."

A Quarter after Noon: Ainsley Manor Living Room: Eleven Years After Waynes' Deaths

Waller's blond assistant approached her holding a bulging clear plastic bag. "Agent Waller!" Her boss turned to her with raised eyebrows. The younger thinner woman in glasses gave her a smug smile. "Our team found these. They seem to have been recently written." Waller took the bag and looked through its clear plastic to the paper beneath. Her eyes widened. She looked over her shoulder and shouted, "Agent Roth!"

The man holding the lead of the Hound sniffing the area with interest led the dog over to her. Waller held the slightly open bag near the dog's nose. He sniffed it and sat. Waller's eyes narrowed as Agent Roth's widened. Waller's assistant's smug smile grew.

Waller stepped back into the room Dr. Thompkins still sat waiting. She still held the plastic bag in her hand. Leslie's eyes widened slightly at the sight of it before meeting Waller's gaze. The Agent's voice was like stone. "So, you know about these?"

"What is your interest in them?"

"The handwriting doesn't seem to match anyone currently in the house."

"They weren't written by anyone here."

"I see. Who 'did' write them then?"

"A patient, which makes details fall under doctor-patient privilege."

"Not when my agency's involved Doctor."

What do you think now?

God bless

ScribeofHeroes