I do not own Batman/Bruce Wayne, Superman/Clark Kent, or John Jones/Martian Manhunter. DC does. Please enjoy this chapter for free.

Wayne Manor Eleven Years After Waynes' Deaths

Bruce began to move. Instead of going to the closest entrance to the cave system, he stayed in the manor proper being careful to shut doors behind him and lock those with locks. Even then, once he reached a secret, hidden elevator to the batcave, he tried to shield with his body the keypad he punched a sequence of numbers into to hide it from the "seemingly" empty space behind him.

Once he got to the cave, he strode more openly and quickly to screens over a much longer keyboard. He tapped in another sequence. Then the screens filled with video feeds. He rewound the one in the kitchen. He saw himself springing back and out of the chair and slowed the playback speed. He focused on John.

John released the back of his chair, stepped back at the same time and disappeared … vanished into thin air. Bruce rewound and played the footage again to be sure. Then he scanned the other screens. Something caught his attention on an access drive off the highway to a path through the woods behind the manor. A gate stretched between the public and private properties. A car was parked just inside it. He hadn't let it in.

Bruce tapped more commands into the keyboard and put the feeds onto bigger screens while zooming in … Someone was inside slumped in the passenger seat. The windows were open as if to give them plenty of air. He ordered the camera to move to look more directly through the window. Samson Robertson.

Bruce's eyes widened. Then … John "appeared" out of the thin air on the driver's side of the vehicle. He paused to lean against it, head bowed, breathing hard. Then, he opened the door and got it. Bruce tapped furiously at the keyboard again and ordered one of his and Lucius' inventions to shoot a tracking device onto the bumper of the car before it pulled out toward the gate, which opened and slid aside. Bruce's eyes widened again. Once the car passed through, the gate shut itself before the vehicle pulled out onto the road.

As it did, Bruce pulled up a map showing the tracker's position. Then he put in a few passwords to access a messaging system even Lucius Fox didn't know about. Afterward, he tried to wipe the record of his actions from the system without waiting for a reply.

Metropolis Daily Planet Underlings Shared Office Eleven Years After Waynes' Deaths

A pair of blue eyes behind horn-rimmed glasses scanned another page of an article written by a colleague for errors in spelling, grammar, or even fact. Clark's concentration was broken when a message bubble popped up on the screen. It said "error" at least in the large letters in the gray box. But, within those letters with a gradient of "black" a few shades lighter were far smaller letters that read "I need you. Urgent. Cave."

Clark clicked on the "okay" button in the message bubble making it disappear. Then he pressed the button to shut the whole system off just in case someone was nosy. Bruce would ask if he'd taken this precaution. Finally, he headed in the direction of the men's room. After a careful few glances around, he went up a stairwell to the roof instead, removing his glasses and suit to reveal his much more brightly colored outfit beneath.

Batcave Eleven Years After Waynes' Deaths

Bruce's scowl had grown a bit darker as minutes passed after he sent the message and opened an entrance to the cave system facing Metropolis. Finally, a brisk gust of air hit his back. He rose to his feet, turned, and looked up to see Superman descending to the floor with a slight frown on his face. "What's going on Bruce?"

Bruce pointed to the map on the screen. "Fly over that vehicle and scan both men in it. If they're both in relatively good health, come back. If not, get whoever needs it medical help while being as gentle as possible with them both."

Superman's eyes widened slightly and he cocked his head to the side. "Anything else I should know?"

"The one in the passenger seat was unconscious minutes ago. The one driving probably kidnapped him, and … the driver is probably a telepath who can turn invisible and possibly use telekinesis."

Clark's eyes widened further. His whole body tensed. Then another strong gust of air hit Bruce as he left the same way he came. Bruce turned and started rewinding and examining footage from when John arrived. He seemed to just appear in the garden as well over an hour before. Could he turn invisible or was he teleporting? The gates other than the one blocking access to the highway didn't even open or close on camera for the past few days nor did any other access points show anything strange when John should have been coming or leaving.

Minutes later, Superman came back. Bruce looked over his shoulder instead of standing up. Clark spoke a bit hurriedly. "The unconscious man has some light swelling of the brain, but nothing dangerous. It should resolve fully within a few days, but he shouldn't receive any knocks to his head for a while for safety. No needle marks. There were some bruises on the skin that could be from last night, but shouldn't have caused a concussion. They weren't in the right places. He's overweight and on the cusp of cardiovascular disease, but … he should be okay for a few more years if he doesn't take any further damage.

"What about the other man?"

"He seems a lot healthier." Bruce paused and looked up as the blinking dot on the screen froze in place. Clark stared at it too. "Where is that?"

"Looks like another access point, but to public lands not mine. Either he found and left the tracker there or he's parked the car. Go see what's happening."

Superman zoomed away again. He reappeared even fewer minutes later than before. "The car has been abandoned by the driver. The unconscious man is still in the passenger seat and the windows are still rolled down."

"Interesting …"

"What's all this about Bruce? So far, I can't see the emergency."

Bruce sighed and bowed his head. "Clark … someone else may now know about us going to the future …"

Superman straightened. His blue eyes widened. He was quiet for a moment and then said, "Okay. That's not where I thought this was going. Who and how would they have found that out from 'you'?"

"The driver read my mind. He found out about Saturn Girl at least …" Bruce brought up and replayed some of the footage for his guest. "You can see where he invaded my mind …"

"You seemed to have been having a serious talk beforehand, and a fairly calm one, in your own kitchen."

"I thought I knew him well a long time ago … Now … I don't feel like I know him at all."

"How long ago?"

"About nine years …"

"When you were a kid?"

"Yes."

"Huh."

"He once lived here. If it's the same person. But a mind-reader …" Bruce began massaging his forehead with his eyes closed.

Superman gave him a sympathetic stare. "Hey, it's doesn't look like he really hurt or even wanted to keep the other man hostage. It also doesn't look like he did anything to make even you worried until less than an hour ago. If it 'was' a brain blast, then ... maybe it was in self-defense. Maybe, the driver, your guest, was just someone with superpowers who wants to be left alone."

Bruce froze, frowned, and turned in his swivel chair to stare at Superman. "Is that you just being niave?"

Superman shrugged. "I usually like to give people the benefit of the doubt. You're the suspicious one. Why was he in your kitchen? You're not even supposed to be in the country."

"You just redirected away from my question."

"Doesn't make my question a bad one."

"Clark."

Superman's stare turned harder. He poked the fingers of his right hand into his own chest as he replied. "I've kept all your secrets Bruce. Don't you think others have the right to expect the same from me?"

Bruce gave an exasperated sigh. "As you said, he knows my name and that I'm here. He knows about Saturn Girl, and he's been driving a car with an unconscious citizen of Gotham in it! Why shouldn't I look further into this?"

Superman's stare became a scowl. He waved his hand toward his entrance and access point into the cave. "He left the man in decent health, in the car with the keys in the ignition, and with the windows rolled down. You would do 'exactly' the same thing with someone 'you' wanted out of the way for a while! You'd even brain blast them if you could! Imra did it all the time."

Bruce sighed. "Unlike with Imra, we don't know why he did any of what he just did ..."

"Do I have to remind you of how suspicious you were of the whole team for days? You aren't always right with your suspicions."

"I haven't always been wrong either."

"Who's the unconscious passenger?"

"He's a low level member of the South Side Cartel."

Superman raised an eyebrow. "So you don't think this telepath with possible telekenesis and invisibility powers could have had a good reason to brain blast him?"

"Clark, what do you want from me right now? To forget about all this?"

Superman landed on the ground and set his hands on his hip while pinning Bruce with his stare. "Look, if this is who I think it is, I trust him almost as much as I do you. Can you let me find and talk to him before doing anything else?"

Bruce stared hard at Clark. "You really trust him that much?"

"Yes."

"Since when?"

"Since before I was a teenager." At seeing both Bruce's eyebrows rise, Clark went on. "He saved my life once."

Bruce looked away. "Mine too, 'if' it's the same person."

"So let me find and talk to him before you go digging."

"Come back and tell me if 'you're' satisfied after your 'talk' and 'don't' be overconfident. Neither of us may know what we're dealing with, if it's not who we think, or if he's changed. One thing I think I know for sure is ... he's scared."

"I gotcha Bruce." Superman grinned at him before zooming out of the cave. Bruce groaned, leaned over his keyboard and kept massaging his forehead. "Just like old times ..."

Undisclosed Location Eleven Years After Waynes' Deaths

The truck driver sat twiddling his thumbs on the shiny cold metal table under a single light built high into the ceiling above it and him. Then the door opened. A heavy-set African american woman with her hair pulled back severely into a tight bun behind her head strode in. Her clothing was a dark pantsuit with just slightly feminine touches like the satiny texture and flaring color of her white blouse. She sat down heavily in the chair across the table from the civilian. "Thank you for waiting Mr. Brown."

"Uh … I told yer agents, 'I don't know much' …"

"This is very important sir, so we need to know 'everything' you do know." She pushed a switch on a recorder and set it down on the table in front of the puzzled looking man who stared at it. The woman then leaned forward and pinned him with a cool gaze. "Now, tell me what happened in Central City last week."

"Well, I just pulled in for gas, bought a turkey club sandwich and a lemonade. I was a little ahead of schedule, so I decided to eat out in the air watching the world go by on a bench. When I went back to my truck, this pretty young blonde asked if I could take her to Gotham City."

Amanda Waller lifted an eyebrow, but said nothing. The man went on. "I told her I couldn't take her to Gotham City exactly, but I could take her in that direction. And, she said that was okay as long as she could take a bus after our paths diverged as you might say."

"Go on …"

"Well, I told her to hop in then and she did and munched some Oreos and drank milk, I think. Yeah, it was milk, cause I told her not to spill it or it would stink the carpet up to high heaven. Once she dropped an Oreo, and just picked it up and ate it off the floor, which was probably the least cute thing she did …"

"When was this?"

"When was what?"

"When she picked up the Oreo?"

"Uh … right as we were pulling out of the city limits I think?"

"Did you see a vehicle pulled over on the side of the road around that time?"

"Uh, yeah, some serious looking men were standing and staring outside it. I felt sorry for them, but I already had a passenger."

"Indeed."

There was an uncomfortable pause. The truck driver broke it. "Anyway, she didn't seem too interested in chatting. She didn't complain when I put the windows down or played the radio loud. I bought her another meal at our stop, she sure had an appetite for such a small gal, and then I went on while she walked in the direction of the bus stop."

"At the Big Belly Burger off the interstate right after crossing the state border?"

"Yeah ..."

"And she went to the nearest bus stop afterward? And you never saw or heard from her again?"

"Yep."

"That's all?"

"Uh, yup?"

"Did she do anything that seemed ... 'strange' other than eat an Oreo off the floor?" Amanda Waller raised both her eyebrows and stared at the man without blinking for five seconds.

His face turned a bit read and he did blink beneath her gaze. "Uh … no … I don't think so. Dangerous for a pretty looking thing like her to be hitchhiking though."

Waller nodded and stood. "Thank you for your time Mr. Brown. Please contact us if this woman approaches you again ... once we let you go home."

"Am ... am I free to leave now?"

"You'll be staying with us a little longer as we confirm all the information you've given us. Once we have, and we know we no longer need you, you'll be escorted to a van, in which you will be driven back to your home. You will share with 'no one' what we discussed."

"Will your people be any more polite this time? Your agents weren't too nice when they escorted me from my house. In fact, they were kinda mean."

Waller turned back near the door and narrowed hard eyes at the man. Slight furrows of frustration dug into her forehead above them. The trucker looked back down at the table. "I'll just … wait for the nice agents to come and get me."

Waller nodded turning the recorder off in her hand and put it in her pocket as she opened the door and stepped out. "Good day Mr. Brown."

What do you think now?

Whumptober Alternative prompt: "Communication Barriers" in this case characters keeping secrets from another character.

God bless

ScribeofHeroes