Gotham Nights, Part 3 (of ??)
By: C. Leuch
“Hey Laura! Wait up!”
Matt Owens was exiting the Gotham State journalism building, having submitted his story for the Monday paper a few minutes earlier. Laura Kent was a few steps ahead of him, dressed in jeans and a form fitting t-shirt, her black hair in a loose braid that reached to her mid-back. She had also submitted her story, something about a dispute between landlord and tenants at an off-campus apartment building. At the sound of his voice, she turned and, upon catching glimpse of his face, gave a stunning smile. When she smiled, she was by far the most beautiful girl on campus.
That smile was the first thing he noticed about her when they first met three years prior, inside the offices of the student newspaper. It was the Friday before classes started, and he had been a sophomore, manning a cubicle close to the entrance, working away at some story that he couldn’t even remember now. She was a freshman, brand new to campus, brimming with confidence, and just wanting to work on whatever stories they were willing to give her. It was a bold move on her part, walking into the office and demanding a job – usually freshmen came into the program after classes started with the guidance of the journalism faculty – but Laura had no intention of majoring in journalism. What she did have was a pedigree, and, amazingly, a portfolio that included work from the Daily Planet. And that smile, which she flashed when the faculty advisor accepted her into the paper on the spot. He remembered her looking him in the eye at that moment, and all he could think about was how insignificant he felt next to her beauty, drive, and obvious talent. It made him determined to get to know her, even if she probably was out of his league.
He introduced himself the next day, and far from being the intimidating juggernaut that he assumed she would be, she came off as sweet and intelligent, confident yet unsure in a way that belied the fact that she was still a freshman. In the beginning she largely came to him for advice and to tap his experience, though the more they got to talking, they more they realized they had in common. What started out as advice on the workings of the newspaper or who to talk to within university administration morphed into advice on what movie to see or what music to listen to while doing certain types of homework, until eventually they just did those things together. With other friends around, of course. Lurking beneath it all, though, was the growing realization that his initial crush on her had morphed into something much stronger, something that he dared not act on. Her looks and charm had summoned similar feelings from other guys, too, guys who were more attractive with more going for them than he had – varsity football players, fraternity members, big wigs from exclusive campus clubs, guys from rich families who could have anyone they wanted. But Laura wasn’t accepting any suitors, and she wasn’t shy about letting those guys know what they could do with themselves after their declarations of undying love. She didn’t want to be anyone’s arm candy, and wasn’t willing to spend time in relationships with people who only valued her for her looks or connections. So Matt kept his feelings to himself, content to have a platonic relationship with her. Even if it meant never taking their relationship to the next step, she was an interesting enough person that it was worth staying her friend.
And they’d had some interesting times over the last couple years. Their group of friends all had student sports passes, and they went to football and basketball games together. Laura cheered the Gotham State teams as loudly as any of them, except possibly when they were playing Metropolis. Too much history there, she had said. Last year, they had all taken a road trip to Metropolis when the football team played there, and Laura had volunteered her parents’ basement for overnight accommodations. Her parents were journalistic royalty as far as Matt was concerned, and meeting them had been one of the highlights of the trip. Her father was engaging and funny, relaying stories about past investigations before asking them all about themselves and their big stories. Her mother was quick to give hints and advice. Laura seemed almost annoyed at reception her parents received from her friends, probably because all the anecdotes and advice was old hat to her, and Matt found himself disengaging from the discussion to give her some attention, a move that earned her gratitude and brought them a little closer. The next day, at the game, she showed him the banner in the Metropolis University stadium dedicated to her brother, a former member of the football team, an all-conference performer, who died within weeks of graduation. Her soft spot for Metropolis University made complete sense in that context, and he supposed that it also explained why she seemed so guarded sometimes.
As time went by, they began to have some fun together away from their other friends. There were the festivals on campus and around Gotham, a play here or there, movies. They started going over to each others’ apartments for movie nights or just to hang out. Through it all, the feelings that he had buried early on had never gone away – if anything they had grown, and he started to wonder if maybe she wasn’t feeling the same thing, and if maybe they were both too comfortable with the status quo to say anything. Over the summer months, they never seemed to go more than a few days without a phone call, and she had even come out to visit him once, flying rather than diving, even though it must have cost her a small fortune. She had met his parents, and even they had to ask if the two were an item, though honestly he didn’t know what to say. This was his final year in school, and when it was done he would be moving on to a job in the real world, most likely somewhere away from Gotham, and the prospect of going away and not having her to hang around with or to talk to filled him with dread. He was tired of being too scared to take that next step, of worrying that she would reject his advances like she rejected those from every other beau over the years. It might make things weird between them, but they were close enough that he couldn’t imagine it ruining their friendship if, God forbid, something went wrong. At this point it was a matter of finding the right time, the right setting, and taking the plunge.
He jogged a little to catch up with her, and soon they were in step next to each other. “Did you catch the news about last night?” Matt asked.
“What part? The fire or the mess in Suicide Slum?”
“Both, I guess. Batman was a busy guy.”
“Yeah.” Laura seemed to want to say something, but stayed silent for a few long seconds. “What did you think about what he did?”
Matt liked to think of himself as the Gotham State News superhero reporter, covering the activities of Batman whenever he could. There were other heroes around town, too – Nightwing, most notably, and sometimes a shadowy companion calling herself Robin. He kept track of their activities, too, but they tended to keep to shadow more often than not, which didn’t lead to a whole lot of witnesses or sightings. Even Batman was fairly camera shy, though it wasn’t from lack of trying on the part of the press. But last night everything was laid out in front of the cameras, the helicopters n the air over the scene of a large fire giving all of Gotham a good look at their main protector. And what it revealed wasn’t what Matt had expected.
“I think there’s something to the rumor linking Batman to Superman. I mean, he’s apparently fireproof and bulletproof, and people swore he set the fires around Suicide Slum. Plus I heard some people actually saw Superman around last night.”
Laura waved her hand, apparently not all that interested in the fairly sizable revelation. “Yeah, there was that movie premiere and reception he was at. And the rumor’s been out there for a long time. What I meant was, what do you think about the things he did? Going on the offensive…hurting people.”
“Hurting bad guys,” Matt clarified. “Isn’t that kind of his thing?”
“Not recently,” Laura said, and he could tell by her tone that something about this subject was bothering her. It was true that Batman had been…different in the last couple years, almost like a totally different person. It had been a long time since he had dangled a bad guy off a roof, at least before last night. And it was a couple years ago that the strange sightings had started – Batman leaping off tall buildings, Batman rescuing people from fires, Batman with superhuman strength. Batman had been a fixture in Gotham since the 1960’s, meaning the person behind the cowl would almost surely have to be different now, just due to age. And the new guy seemed less violent, more heroic somehow. Or he had.
“Yeah, I suppose you’re right,” Matt conceded.
“Anyway, how can someone rightfully call themselves a hero if they’re going out and willingly destroying property and putting people in the hospital?”
Matt pondered that for a moment. “I suppose there are different kinds of heroes. Some would say that if the end result is stopping crime and making the city safer, there’s no problem.”
“It just bothers me that people on TV are applauding what Batman did last night, like it’s a good thing that he punched a hole in the side of a boat, for goodness sakes. Or how great it was that he endangered the whole neighborhood by lighting a portion of it on fire. You can’t stop lawbreakers by becoming one.”
Matt sighed – he was getting the distinct impression that this wasn’t meant to be a conversation so much as an opportunity for her to vent. Maybe it was time to pull one of her tricks and turn the subject around on her. “I thought you didn’t care about superheroes.”
She gave him a sideways glance, a hint of amusement in her eyes as she recognized his ploy, then shrugged. “I’m just not excited about whatever fantastic things they are up to on a given day. I get it – Superman is strong and fast and can fly. That story is, what, 25 years old? I just don’t get the endless fascination. Now the ethics behind what they do, that’s fair game, especially when they seem to be out of whack.”
“People are fascinated because it’s a fantasy.”
“It’s a reality,” Laura said. “Those are real people.” She acted like there was something else she wanted to say, but she stopped herself.
“Well, the rest of us can’t help but dream about what it would be like to do what they can do. And anyway, Superman or Crimson Superman saving someone is never old news, because that someone would be dead if not for them. Just because it happens all the time doesn’t mean it’s not heroic. I don’t think I want to live in a world where the Supermen are ho-hum.” The last line was meant as a verbal poke at her. It was a variation on a conversation that they’d had dozens of times before, though both of them were too stubborn to change their minds, no matter how good the argument was on the other side.
“You’re cute when you’re being naive,” Laura said with a wrinkle of her nose.
“Well you’re too cute to be so cynical,” Matt replied. The personal endearments had been added to their banter as a bit of friendly ribbing long ago. It was little wonder that most of their friends thought they were already an item.
They walked in silence across the campus green for a few moments. “So, big plans for tonight?” Matt asked.
Laura shook her head. “I’ve been working my way through my grandma’s recipe box. I was going to try my hand at shepherd’s pie tonight. Maybe throw together some biscuits. It’ll be nice to have a quiet evening at home after last night.”
Matt raised his eyebrows. He knew she had spent last night babysitting her nephew. “Rough night?” he asked. He didn’t have a whole lot of experience with kids, but could imagine how chasing around a 3-year-old or dealing with potty training could lead to a few headaches.
Her expression was hard to read, almost conflicted. “Oh, my brother wasn’t quite himself after his party. Made for a kinda long night.” She shook her head and smiled. “He’s okay now, though. So how about you? Studying hard tonight?”
Matt shook his head. “It’s amazing how much you can get done on a Saturday night with no friends around. I am looking forward to being bored on a Sunday for once. Can’t say my dinner is going to be anywhere as good as yours – I’ll probably grab fast food or something on the way home.”
“You should join me,” Laura said, and Matt felt a little smile start to reach his lips, his heart beating a little faster than it had a moment ago. This could be the opening he was looking for. “I’d probably eat the whole meal myself without some company,” she continued, then her eyes got wide for a moment. “As, uh, leftovers, I mean. Obviously.”
It was one of those things that she said from time to time that seemed ironic, but he couldn’t quite tell if it was on purpose. “Is this a date?” he asked, his voice clearly teasing, although the words were serious.
She looked at him, sporting an expression that was outwardly indignant. “Only if you think that a woman should have to cook for herself on a date. If that’s the case, then we’re really going to have to reexamine our friendship.
“You could’ve just said no,” Matt said with a chuckle.
“Well what fun would that be?”
Their conversation continued on to other topics as they made their way to her apartment, which was only a couple of blocks off campus. He had been there before several other times, mostly to watch movies or play games, but she had never cooked for him before. As they reached her apartment, she opened the door and held up a finger as she looked inside. “Just a sec. Let me make sure the place is presentable,” she said, closing the door behind her. A brief gust of wind blew into the hallway from under the door, then, moments later, the door opened, and Laura gave a quick smile. “Had to pick up the unmentionables.”
He smirked at her, then followed her inside, dropping his backpack just inside the door. She headed straight for the kitchen, but he took a second to look around. It was a studio, with a U-shaped kitchen to the left of the door, a sitting area in the middle, and bed to the right behind a screen. A bathroom and closet were on the far right wall, out of his line of sight. The apartment was very neat and uncluttered, the decorations somewhat minimal, though they seemed very much her style. A side table next to the couch held some photos of her family along with a couple textbooks and a notebook. On the wall next to the door was a television stand, a bookcase next to that. Her taste in books was eclectic to say the least – old Calvin and Hobbes comics occupied shelf space next to calculus texts and the works of Homer.
“You coming?” she asked, and he joined her in the kitchen. They got to work, Laura taking the lead, Matt following her directions. Eventually the dish came together, then it needed to be put into the over for an hour, which gave them time to talk. The intimate setting, the two of them inside her small kitchen, led him to ask more personal questions than he had before, and Laura played along.
“Cooking was one of those special things that my Dad and I did together after my brothers were out of the house,” she said.
“What, your Mom didn’t cook?”
“Oh, she did. You just didn’t usually want to eat it, unless you’re fond of heartburn.” She smiled, a faraway look in her eyes. “Anyway, my grandma was the real chef in the family, and when she died we took her recipes and tried our hands at duplicating them. I think it helped Dad keep her memory alive, and it helped me get to know her better when he told me the stories of the time he helped her make this dish or what special occasion was happening when she served that dish. Sometimes our results were spectacular, sometimes we were dismal failures. Sometimes we cheated, which was kind of fun, especially when we got away with it.”
“Cheated how? Substituted ingredients?”
Her expression was sly. “It’s a trade secret. If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”
He raised his eyebrows in amusement and gestured toward the oven. “Should I not have helped you make this meal? I kinda had some plans for tomorrow that I would like to live to see.”
“Nah, I didn’t cheat with this one,” she said, though again it felt like she was holding something back. Rather than press her on it, he offered his own family anecdote. His parents were the outdoors-y types, and many childhood weekends were spent in campgrounds or on a trail somewhere. He was an expert at cooking over a campfire, and had helped his dad with grilling duty enough that he considered himself pretty good at that, too. Although he had fond memories of his family’s epic camping trips, as he got older he found himself not as enthralled with nature as he used to be. And when it came time to leave home and go to college, he headed to Gotham City, where the trees were few and far between and wildlife had a whole different meaning.
“I guess I ran away from home, in a way,” he said, giving her a knowing look. “You probably know how that feels.” She had given hints in the past that Metropolis felt like a place where she would never be able to control her own destiny, and he had taken those hints in concert with the fact that her brother passed away and assumed that they were alike in this respect, too.
She seemed somewhat surprised for a moment, confirming his suspicion, but quickly recovered. “It wasn’t that I was running away from anything,” she said. “It’s more like running toward something new and exciting, seizing a new opportunity. And watching my nephew grow up.”
“I meant to ask you,” Matt said, leaning casually against the counter. “You have two brothers, right?” He asked, purposely using the present tense, since she always seemed to for both of them, as well. At her nodding, he continued. “But one died, and the other works at the Planet in Metropolis. So who is the brother in Gotham that you’ve been referring to? The one your nephew lives with?”
A fleeting look of panic crossed her face, coming and going so quickly that it would be easy to believe that he had been mistaken. With a deep breath, she gave him a smile, no doubt trying to disarm him, and doing a pretty good job of it. “Oh, it’s an interesting situation. When CJ died, his wife was pregnant, and after she moved to Gotham she got remarried to Sam. I suppose he’s my brother-in-law squared, if that makes any sense. It’s just a lot easier to refer to him as my brother.” Her chuckle seemed a little forced, and Matt made a mental note, cataloging the exchange in his mental encyclopedia of interesting little quirks about Laura, things that he was determined to sort out.
Their discussion was interrupted by the ringing of the timer, and a quick check revealed that their meal was ready, so Laura directed Matt to set the table while she took the casserole out of the oven. At one point it occurred to him that something seemed out-of-place, missing maybe, but he couldn’t put his finger on what. It didn’t matter, he thought, as they finally sat down to eat. Everything smelled delicious, and they had made a pretty decent team in putting it together.
“My complements to the chef,” he said, raising his water glass in salute. “Quite a tantalizing meal for a not-date.”
“Well the chef was only as good as her assistant,” she said, raising her glass in return and lightly tapping it against his. She looked around a little and turned back to him. “This is about as not-date-like as it gets, isn’t it?”
“I can’t argue the company. Isn’t that the most important part of any date?” he said, and she blushed lightly. It was always interesting to see when his compliments hit their target and didn’t just pass as friendly banter. She was a pro at deflecting them, though, and tonight was no different.
“Oh, I don’t know. I mean, it’s part of it, sure, but there’s also the ambience, the nice outfits and expensive food….”
“Ah, so you’re the formal date type.”
That seemed to spark something. “I’m not any type,” she said, a hint of fire in her voice. “But if you’re going to do it, you might as well do it the right way.”
“What’s the right way, then?” he asked.
“Well, you get into a smart suit,” she started, gesturing toward him, and Matt had to force the smile to stay on his face. She probably had no idea what she had just said, but to him it meant the world. It was an acknowledgement, however unintentional, that he viewed him as date material, that she had thought about him in that way. “And I put on a nice dress…maybe even some heels if you can believe it,” she continued, not noticing his distraction. “Then we go to one of those expensive restaurants that Sam goes to all the time, sit down at a table with a candle on it.”
“Do you sit next to me or across from me?”
“Ugh, across from you,” she said with a roll of the eyes. “I don’t understand those couples that sit next to each other in a booth when they’re out without any company. How do you talk to each other that way?” Matt shrugged. Laura continued, “Anyway, there would be dessert after an incredibly expensive and probably not fully satisfying meal, and then…” she stopped and looked at him and squinted. “A movie, I guess?”
“And what, sit in a dark theater together for a couple hours, avoiding any and all conversation? An uncomfortable plastic armrest between us blocking any hope of physical contact or snuggling?” His eyes danced. This conversation was fun, and he could tell she felt the same way.
“Okay, no movie. I would say that we could go dancing, but the only dancing going on these days outside of zumba classes is at nightclubs, and that kinda goes against the whole formal date thing.”
“I can’t argue with you on that one.”
“Maybe go to one of the art galleries?” she asked.
“I wouldn’t enjoy it, I think. My eyes would be locked on my date, who I am sure would be much better to look at than any of those overrated paintings.” She blushed again, more heavily this time. “See, I think the formal date is overrated,” he continued lightly, hoping that he hadn’t been too heavy-handed. “How about, normal clothes, comfortable shoes, and a walk in Centennial Park? Maybe a lovely meal from the local hot dog cart? It’s the budget date.”
“Oooh, romantic,” she said with a chuckle.
“Or maybe the fun date. A gimmicky restaurant like Medieval Times and go kart racing or something.”
“You’re getting into dangerous territory there,” she said, and Matt arched an eyebrow. “I get competitive. It’s not pretty.” He recalled how worked up she got just as a fan at school sporting contests and decided that was probably true.
“So what’s your backup choice?”
She took a bite and thought for a second, her eyes focused past him, then gave a small smile. “The fantasy date,” she said. “Dinner at some bistro in Paris, a walk along the Seine, maybe a little boat ride, and a kiss atop the Eiffel Tower.”
“Nice,” Matt said. “But I think the airfare alone would buy a semester of tuition.”
“I have some connections,” Laura said, and couldn’t tell if she was teasing or serious. Probably teasing, he thought, judging by the expression on her face. “But there’s a reason it’s the fantasy date.”
“A very pleasant fantasy,” he agreed, and with that the conversation moved on to other topics. All too soon, the meal was finished and they cleared the table before moving toward the seating area to catch an episode of one of the shows their friends had all been streaming.
Her couch was only nominally bigger than a love seat, so they sat very near to each other, separated by a small gap. It wasn’t the first time they had found themselves in this position, though the atmosphere tonight was a little different, and they both felt it. Neither said much during the show, and a little past the mid-point, Matt finally worked up the courage to slide his hand into hers. She looked down at their intertwined fingers, then looked back at him, wide-eyed. His smile was reassuring, and after a few long moments she seemed to relax. On the screen in front of them were pictures of soaring vistas, the music measured but building. Matt really didn’t notice, though, preferring to search Laura’s dark eyes, silently asking permission to take the next step, his heart soaring as he felt her hand gently squeeze his. Slowly he leaned forward, tilting his head slightly and closing his eyes as his lips ever so lightly brushed against hers. The music on the show built to a crescendo, and he felt her react, her other hand reaching up toward him as they deepened their kiss. It was at that point that time itself seemed to cease, and the world all around became nothing. There was only their kiss, and the incredible sense of rightness. And though he had half expected a timid response, she seemed to be feeling it as intensely as he was. At some point his hand cupped the back of her head, and they moved closer to each other on the couch, closing the gap between them so that their bodies were pressed together. He didn’t know how long the kiss lasted, but he began to become aware that the music on the television had become almost nervous, tentative, and his hand, the one still clasped in hers, we beginning to ache from the strain of her grip. Reluctantly, he pulled away, resting his forehead against hers, taking heavy breaths. Laura, too, was breathing deeply, and he could practically feel her smile next to him.
“If you ever want to experience one of those dates we talked about,” he said heavily, giving her a quick pack on her cheek, “just say the word. I could go formal or fun, or whatever you want. I don’t care what we do, as long as I do it with you.”
She captured his lips, and they lost themselves for a few long seconds in another deep kiss. It was as if the time that they had spent denying their feelings had only heightened the experience when they finally allowed themselves to indulge in them, and now they couldn’t get enough of each other. All too soon it was over again, and she sat up, distancing herself from him and breaking the spell. Suddenly the rest of the world seemed to come back into focus, and he found himself disappointed that the moment had passed. Judging by Laura’s expression, apparently he wasn’t the only one. As he watched, a shadow seemed to cross her face, chasing away the pleasant satisfaction and leaving her with a little frown on her lips. Her eyes looked down to the floor, and her hand, formerly clasped tightly to his, pulled away and grabbed absently at her arm. It had been too much at once, he realized, forcing himself to look away from her. He had pushed too hard, and now….
“I…don’t know if that a good idea right now,” she said.
Matt exhaled, an almost physical pain hitting him at the sound of her words. On impulse he stood, keeping his eyes looking anywhere but at her. “Maybe I should go,” he said, taking a step toward the door.
“Matt, no, you don’t have to…”
“No, I think I should,” he answered, and despite his best attempt to keep the tone confident, it sounded a little emotional, even to him. With that, he walked quickly toward the door, grabbing his backpack as he went. “Thank you for dinner. It was…amazing,” he said as he pulled the door open. He forced himself to look at her, so she knew he sincerely meant what he was saying, and what he saw made him pause momentarily. Laura seemed conflicted, like a dozen emotions were warring within her, but most of all she seemed regretful, and that gave him a spark of hope. “Goodnight,” he said softly, and left.
As he left her building, he noted that it was just past dusk, the sky above a cloudless black, only the brightest stars visible through the glow of city lights. Even so, from somewhere very close came a rumble of thunder, though it couldn’t possibly be that. He puzzled over that for a moment, but kept walking, and pondering what had just happened. It wasn’t that his advances had been unwanted, and it wasn’t as if she didn’t return them in kind. He had instigated the kiss, yes, but she had been an equal and eager participant. So it was possible, maybe even probable, that she felt the same way as he did. But what if…? What if she had never been kissed before? What if she had never experienced the surge of emotions that she felt tonight? She was nothing if not logical, and though she could be headstrong, she was rarely impulsive. What if the events of tonight somehow challenged her carefully constructed plans – what if she had never expected to fall for someone? And what if all these things had scared her? Maybe he just needed to wait for her to decide what she wanted. He just hoped that she had felt what he did, and was willing to give him the chance to prove that their kiss was no fluke.
It was going to be tough waiting, but he was nothing if not patient. And she was most definitely worth it.
***
A series of sights and sound passed in front of CJ, and though he knew the images should illicit some sort of emotion, he instead felt nothing. No, he decided, that wasn’t exactly true. He felt…powerful. Vengeful. Righteous. And these were new emotions for him. A dozen gunmen fired automatic weapons at him, the bullets tickling his skin, bouncing off him and embedding themselves in surrounding buildings. Casually he walked toward each man, destroying each gun, the ricocheting bullets causing yet more collateral damage, though he didn’t care. And after each man was subdued, he walked toward the large warehouse next to him, setting it alight with one burst of heat vision, the ancient rafters immediately going from small spark to blazing fire. His subconscious mind screamed to himself that he had been taught better than that, that property destruction was a crime as surely as firing a gun at someone, that the fire might harm innocent people, but he found that his conscious self didn’t care.
Several pictures passed his vision rapidly – a drug house, where meth was being manufactured in a room adjacent to where filthy-looking children were sleeping. Then that meth house in flames, the children screaming while he carried them outside. A drive-by shooting, then the vehicle used in the shooting turned into a crumpled hunk of metal. A group of kids, probably no older than 14 or 15, picking on an elderly couple, then those kids dangling from the edge of a 4-story apartment building. A woman, dressed all in dark-colored, form-fitting spandex, coming at him in a blur before she was sent flying through the air.
He gasped, and suddenly the images faded away, the darkness replaced with a bright glow, and realized that he was lying in his bed, the room lit with the early morning sun. Next to him, he could hear Jenny’s deep and even breathing, telling him that she was still asleep. He put his arm over his eyes and stifled a groan, shuddering slightly as the horror of what he had just seen passed over him. This was the second morning of waking up to images that he had hoped to never see, vignettes from the 6 hours of his life that had been lost to the effects of red kryptonite.
It had been much the same yesterday, Sunday, though it hadn’t been the dreams that had awoken him that morning but the gentle tapping of a little hand. Adam had rescued him from unwanted memories then, and CJ couldn’t recall ever being happier to have been awoken by his son’s inability to sleep past dawn. It had been hard to be the fun dad that morning, to keep a smile on his face and the cheer in his voice when interacting with Adam, just because he was still coming to grips with everything that had happened. None if it felt real, and it would be easy to believe that none of it had happened, but it had all been captured by the media. There, staring at him from his television screen, was the aftermath of a night of raw power and intimidation. And grainy video of him, unmistakably him, at the center of it all. He struggled to understand how it could’ve happened, but his dad had given him the answer shortly after bringing him home. A scan of the body CJ had touched prior to blacking out had revealed a necklace with a red kryptonite stone in the corpse’s stomach, swallowed no doubt to keep someone from it.
“I think Batman’s kinda mean,” Adam had said while CJ was watching the morning news, and CJ couldn’t disagree. He forced himself to change the channel shortly thereafter, to try and interject some cheeriness to what truly was a beautiful morning and to stop himself from brooding over something that was now history. Adam had certainly helped to lift his spirits, and after a shared bowl of cereal and the construction of a couple intricate sets of wooden train tracks, he felt his smile come more naturally, his laugh unprompted. Jenny came in a joined them a couple hours after Adam had summoned him out of bed, and after giving each of them a quick kiss, she had sat back and watched the two of them play, and he could see contentedness behind her eyes.
As bad as the evening had been for him, at least he had the benefit of not remembering, at least not outside of a few haunting dreams. She had experienced the whole thing as it happened, her borrowed powers allowing her to hear the police chatter, to hear the screams from across town, to hear the chatter of those caught in the crossfire, but she had been stuck in the house, unable to do anything except watch and worry. When his Dad had dropped him off in the cave, she had been down there waiting for him, immediately throwing her arms around him even though he was covered in soot and seawater, and despite all the damage that had been caused by his hands. He had argued that she should stay away from him until they were sure that the effects of the kryptonite were gone, but she was having none of it. She stayed by his side, quietly bolstering his shattered confidence, and most of all, giving her support and love.
His parents had stopped by to check on him after lunch that day. CJ had to insist several times over that he felt fine, at least physically, though he could tell his mom wasn’t buying it. It was nothing a little bit of quality time with his family and a few good laughs couldn’t cure, and he went about demonstrating that by having a long play time with Adam and Clark in the palatial playhouse that been erected on the Wayne Manor grounds. Lois and Jenny sat off to the side and talked, and CJ could feel their eyes on him, knowing full well what they were saying without having to listen in. They thought he was burying his feelings, avoiding facing the problem, putting on a happy face for their benefit, but as far as he was concerned he was just trying to move on, which was what was important.
Their play session wore Adam out, and as he went down for a nap, CJ took the opportunity to quiz his parents on everything there was to know about red kryptonite. It was a rather short history, as it turned out, but certainly interesting. It had been responsible for the creation of Ultra Woman, had caused some chaos during his parents dating years, and had lead Superman to wreak some unintended destruction upon Metropolis (and their brownstone). All previous red kryptonite experiences could be traced back to a geologist named Newtrich, or to his family or acquaintances. Newtrich and most of his immediate family wound up in jail, none had any children, and red kryptonite had been all but forgotten over the last couple decades. It helped that all previous specimens were now in orbit, so as far as they knew, there was no more red kryptonite around, at least until they found the stone in the corpse. The question became, who would know about its existence and effects, and what were they planning to do with it? The list of enemies of Superman was rather expansive, the list of enemies of Batman was probably more so. But there was very little common knowledge of the link between Batman and Superman before the previous night, and the red kryptonite wasn’t exactly yielded by a criminal with malicious intent. It was an odd case, and one that would be very difficult to solve until the body was identified.
After a nice dinner in, CJ thanked his parents for coming, and they went on their way, leaving him alone with Jenny and Adam. It really had been a pleasant day, and it felt like he had been able to get the anxiety out of his system. Jenny helped further that cause later in the evening, and he had been at peace before going to bed. But then the dreams came, and more memories had surfaced. Why hadn’t they told him, he thought as he sat up, almost feeling sick to his stomach. The last vision, the one that had awoken him unexpectedly, had been of Laura, and a punch so vicious that it had thrown her at least a block. And nobody had said a word to him about it. Abruptly, CJ got out of bed, sleep now a very far away thought. He needed to clear his head, and the room suddenly felt a little too close.
A quick peek at his son’s room told him that he wasn’t about to have a small visitor, which was probably for the best, given his current mood. He made his way down the long corridor toward the center of the house, passing the library on the way. A quick glance inside showed Bruce, sitting at his desk in the center of the room, engrossed in some files. CJ had always suspected that Bruce never slept, and this was just more proof. After a moment of hesitation, CJ entered the library, and Bruce held up a hand in greeting, motioning for him to come join him.
CJ sat down in his usual chair in front of the desk. There was a short silence as Bruce looked up and regarded him. “I just wanted to let you know how impressed I was with the work you did the other night,” Bruce said.
“Well, that makes one of us,” CJ answered, his disgust for his actions reflected heavily in his voice. Bruce didn’t seem to notice.
“It was bold, it was forceful, it was a statement. They fear you now, and that’s a good thing.”
CJ frowned. “I fear me now,” he answered. “And I can’t sleep at night because of it.”
“Why?” Bruce asked. There was an uncomfortable moment of silence, then Bruce leaned forward. “You weren’t yourself, I understand that. But you also managed to take a huge bite out of the crime organization in the slums, and you did it without killing anyone or injuring any bystanders.”He waved his hand in the air. “So your ethics are still intact, as far as that goes.”
“I laid out my sister, for goodness sakes,” CJ said, the words a little too loud, a little too forceful. He closed his eyes and took a breath, then continued. “And I don’t want to be feared because I intimidate people, I want to be respected because I help people.”
“Fear is respect,” Bruce said with a steely look in his eyes. “The rest is semantics.”
CJ felt anger rising within himself. “It’s not, though. When the average resident of Gotham looks at me and wonders if I’m going to punch him or help him, there’s a problem. When I’m the one causing property damage and filling the emergency rooms, there’s a problem. My ethics go beyond killing or not killing, harming or not harming. There’s more to it than that.”
Bruce leaned back and clasped his hands together, relaxed, a sly smile spreading across his lips. He was never one to shy away from a spirited discussion, and he seemed to be enjoying this one. CJ sometimes wondered if he approached conversations like this with the intent of getting some sort of reaction from him, to see how far he could push him. “I bet your actions from that night make them think the next time they contemplate breaking the law.” CJ opened his mouth to say something, but Bruce held up a hand. “Look, son, reasonable people can disagree on this. If I look amused, it’s because I’ve had this same argument dozens of times over the years with Clark, and God knows you have a lot of him in you. But I don’t think you need to apologize for anything you did out there.”
“I need to apologize to Laura. She didn’t deserve that,” CJ said quietly, and Bruce bobbed his head, conceding the point.
“Fine. But the rest of them? Are you going to, what, run toward the media and give mea culpas to the criminals and thieves? Since when did you start caring about what the perception of Batman is? Since when did that ever factor into the work you do?” CJ’s hand reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes clamped shut. Bruce had a point, of course. He was annoying that way. CJ’s confidence never came from what the press said, and frankly the reputation of Batman was such that the events from the other night would only reinforce what it has been for years. “There’s something else going on,” Bruce said, his eyes seeming to bore right through CJ and into his soul.
CJ dropped his hand and looked absently toward the window, and the heavy drapes that were mostly closed, letting in only a few rays of sunlight. There was something else, something that he hadn’t been able to pinpoint until Bruce helped to clear away the clutter. He supposed that if he thought about it, his actions weren’t causing his sleepless nights so much as what they meant about who he was. Bruce wasn’t exactly the first person he would normally approach to discuss psychological matters, given his track record, but at this moment, CJ couldn’t stop himself, and the words came out before he even really had a chance to think them through. “I wonder if maybe all the red kryptonite did was flip a switch inside my head and turn off my conscience.” CJ said heavily. “Maybe the person you saw out there is a reflection of who I really am deep down inside.”
Bruce gaped at him, the look of incredulity almost comical. He let out a laugh then shook his head. “That is absolutely preposterous and you know it,” he said. “Do you honestly think that, what, you have a well of darkness simmering beneath the surface just waiting to be tapped into? Maybe it’s a result of your horribly tragic upbringing.”
CJ couldn’t help but smile crookedly. “Is that sarcasm?”
“It’s me trying to speak your language,” Bruce said wryly.
“Touché,” CJ answered with a duck of the head. He was quite an expert at dishing out sarcasm, though his most strenuous efforts at using it to coax a laugh or even a smile out of Bruce were usually dismal failures. It was just shocking enough hearing it come out of Bruce’s mouth that he had to pause and actually consider the underlying message. Sure, his untimely “death” could be considered tragic, but even he had to admit that the end result was more positive than he could ever imagine. He was a person who generally saw the world in its most positive light, and he had always been that way. So if his response to the kryptonite wasn’t a reflection of some underlying psychological damage, what was it? What if it wasn’t anything? What if it was just some random reaction? That prospect was almost scarier than the alternative. Almost. “And, message received,” CJ continued softly after a moment, and all of a sudden he felt as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.
“Good. Now, about that kryptonite….”
“Dad spoke with you then, I take it?” Bruce nodded. “It needs to disappear,” CJ said. “I know it’s usually my plan to let these cases play out at the Gotham PD before I stick my nose in, but I’m going to make an exception this time. Someone is looking for that kryptonite, and they’re willing to kill to get it. Once the coroner finds it inside that body, and those findings are made public, then that person will know exactly where to find what they’re looking for. That puts those cops in danger, but more importantly it potentially puts me and my family in danger.”
“You can use the backdoor into the GPD computer system to find out when the autopsy is complete and the body is identified,” Bruce said.
“Then I’m going to go straight to the Chief to let him know in no uncertain terms that the necklace is disappearing, probably while it’s happening so that he doesn’t have a chance to protest.”
“I like this new non-nonsense Batman.”
“Yeah, well, don’t get used to it,” CJ said, though his humor had managed to find its way back into his voice. “Anyway, I’ll need someone to burgle the morgue for me. You’re a little too visible, and Dick…I hate having to lean on him all the time.”
“You probably don’t have a choice,” Bruce said, “though it would be fun to break out an old disguise and do it myself.” He was looking past CJ now, a funny expression on his face.
CJ stood up and clapped him on the shoulder. “I’ll let you know when we’re ready,” he said with a smile, then left.
As CJ exited the library, he replayed the conversation in his head a few times, chewing over everything that it meant. He held himself to a high standard as Batman, but his actions from Saturday night weren’t necessarily incompatible with the standards at the heart of who Batman was, at least not on a fundamental level, and Bruce helped him see that. He could still work toward his goals of a kinder, gentler Batman going forward, and that gave him a measure of comfort. And now that he was able to see that there was nothing he could’ve done to influence his actions while under the effect of the kryptonite, he was able to afford himself some forgiveness for the damage he had done. But he needed his sister’s forgiveness before he would be completely comfortable. And he would seek that forgiveness later today.
For now, though, he headed back toward his bedroom, then climbed into bed, snuggling up to his wife and draping an arm over her shoulder, placing a gentle kiss on the back of her head. “Hmm,” she said, arching her back into him. “What’s that for?”
“Do I need a reason?” CJ asked.
Jenny put her hand over his and turned her head, engaging him in a deep kiss. “I suppose not,” she said with a smile. He eyes found his, and her smile faded ever so slightly. “You’re okay right?”
“I am now,” he answered, and it was true. Her smile finally reached her eyes, and CJ knew for the first time in the last few days that he didn’t need to worry anymore.
