This is a story which I've been working on since late last summer. I must warn you all that it's not done yet, and the posting schedule might be a little slow, but fear not. I'd like to send a big preliminary thank you to my beta reader Annie, who's done a fabulous job.
This story is a continuation of my next gen series which started with "Dawn of Discovery" and most recently included the story "I'll Be You For Christams." Familiarity with the other stories helps, but isn't entirely necessary. Without further ado, here's...
Meet Sam Wayne (Part 1)
By: Cindy Leuch
Rated: PG-13
CJ sighed as he slid his backpack off his shoulder and settled into a seat by the window. The first flight of the day was going to be a full one, he could tell already. Gotham City was little more than a stone’s throw from Metropolis by air, but for the business travelers and families that were packing into the airplane, the short flight offered enough time savings to make it worthwhile. Still, CJ thought with a smile as he watched his fellow travelers board the plane, if they knew who his family was, they would be giving him funny looks and wondering why he was there at all.
It was a good question, he supposed. Many a flight had been taken by more private means between Gotham City and Metropolis. And his car was certainly familiar with the stretch of interstate between the two cities. But today’s visit to Gotham wasn’t a summer move, or a social visit, or an old superhero get together. Today’s visit was the official start to his new, post-college life in Gotham, and it was to be entirely above-board. First he would have his official interview with Wayne Industries, who coincidentally was financing his trip, followed by lunch with his future employer. Then he would peruse a few of the apartments available in the city, before spending a night at Wayne manor. Hopefully, by the end of his second day in town, he would have everything set up so that he could effortlessly make the transition to his new home and his new job, with his new family.
CJ smiled and turned to look out the window, not really paying attention to the flight attendants as they went through their pre-flight ritual and the plane began to taxi for takeoff. Unconsciously, his left thumb reached for his ring finger, feeling for the band of gold that had only recently been placed there. It had only been a few days since he had last flown in the conventional sense, when he and his new wife had returned from their Caribbean honeymoon cruise. The whole last month had seemed like a wonderful dream, between college graduation, the wedding, and the honeymoon. All the images seemed to blur together in his mind, and he knew that the full weight of everything that had happened during that time and what it meant for both him and Jennifer wouldn’t hit him for a while. For now, he didn’t really have time to stop and reflect on it all, at least not outside this short flight. There was still too much to do before he could evaluate his life and where it was headed.
As they took off into the air, CJ chuckled slightly, then leaned back into his seat and closed his eyes. Air travel. How quaint. He knew that people all around the cabin were looking intently toward the ground, trying to find all the familiar Metropolis landmarks as they passed below. The view of the city from the air was something that he knew even with his eyes shut, and it was much more spectacular from out there than it was from the oval aircraft windows. It would be nice to be out above the clouds on his own, away from the hustle of terminals, security, and stuffy aircraft cabins, but he couldn’t be upset about the fact that he wasn’t able to. There were too many other wonderful things in his life to let the absence of one little superpower bother him. And he certainly wasn’t going to inconvenience the rest of his family and tear them from their jobs just so he could attend to some business. So he had to commute just like any normal guy...no big deal. He just wished his wife was here with him.
The plane continued skyward and on a course that took them over the Atlantic Ocean, the normal buzz of conversation picking up again and blending with the rustle of newspaper and the light beeping of a child’s video game somewhere to the rear of the cabin. Through it all, CJ found himself drifting off to sleep. Jenny was back home, taking care of finalizing things in Metropolis, but the thought of her kept him company. It was her face that danced in his vision as he let the hum of the aircraft engines fade into the background. Visions of their honeymoon taunted him, comforted him. The sweet nothingness of sleep quickly embraced him, and he was almost completely lost in his dreams when a sound lurched him back to reality. Immediately, his eyes popped open.
The sound had been something that a normal person surely wouldn’t have been able to hear. During the normal course of flight, the airplane made noises, especially as the cabin was pressurized and depressurized. He was accustomed to those sounds, but what he heard now wasn’t anything that he had ever heard before. It was a sound of fatigue, of something on the verge of failure. As he sat up in his chair, the sound came again, this time followed by a deafening bang. Not even the most oblivious passengers in the cabin could ignore the sound this time, but before anyone had time to panic, another bang came, and the cabin suddenly and explosively depressurized. The oxygen masks dropped down from the panel above, but CJ ignored them as he searched for the source of the noise. He could now hear the groan of metal under strain, and the horrible sound of something coming apart. It was the airplane, he realized as his eyes found the problem.
Around him, people scrambled to get oxygen masks on those who had already passed out. The flight attendants were helping in the task, while trying to calm people down. But they didn’t know the extent of the problem. A body panel on the belly of the plane had somehow come loose, and the explosive depressurization had ripped it off, taking part of another panel with it. Cracks had formed in the frame, stretching away from the original failure point and becoming progressively larger. It was only a matter of time before the plane itself came apart. Worse than that, some hydraulic lines ran through the failure area, and all had been shredded by the blast. The plane was essentially crippled and there was no prospect for a happy ending, given the circumstances. Something had to be done, CJ thought as he looked around at the men, women, and children around him. If the plane went down, he would be fine, but they would surely perish. But what could he do to save them?
With a start, his eyes located the air phone. Saving this plane would take the skills of someone who could fly, and he knew just who to call. As he reached out for the phone, the plane suddenly pitched downward at an alarming angle. Muffled screams from around him caused the goose bumps to rise all over his body, followed by a small irrational jab of terror at the thought of what came next. None of this helped his concentration, and he found himself fumbling with the phone. Darn all the stupid features, he thought as he impatiently scrolled through the menu system. No, he didn’t want to send email or look up news. It was looking more and more like he was about to be news, BAD news if he couldn’t dial the phone. The airplane’s velocity was rapidly increasing as he was finally able to dial the number of the Daily Planet. After one ring, he was prompted to enter an extension, which he did by memory.
“Come on, pick up,” he said as he was transferred, but his only reply was the regular ringing of the phone on the other end. The plane was going frighteningly fast now, and as CJ looked back toward the failure location, he could see a large crack opening up through the cabin, large enough that luggage from the overhead bins was beginning to be sucked out of the void. There was no time, and no Superman at the other end of the line. That meant that if they had any prayer of survival, he would need to be the one to save the aircraft. CJ screamed as he threw the phone down and reached up, putting his hands on the underside of the storage bin. He closed his eyes and asserted his will, desperately hoping that whatever meager flight abilities he did have would be enough to help, but nothing happened. Through the earpiece of the phone, now on the cabin floor, CJ could hear his father’s standard voice mail message, followed by a beep. “HELP!” he screamed, his voice desperate, his hands making indentations in the bins above him as the man in the next seat watched wide-eyed. The cry for help segued into a grunt as he pressed against the aircraft, but it was at that moment that they met the water.
CJ watched, horrified, as the plane exploded around him with the force of impact. At the speed they were traveling, hitting the water was like hitting a brick wall. Almost in slow motion, the wings of the plane shattered, and the already significant crack on the cabin wall broke open, splitting the body of the plane apart. The separate remains of the aircraft rapidly slipped below the waves, taking everyone who was still strapped in. CJ, still belted into his seat, was pulled into the water so rapidly that he barely had time to catch his breath. Quickly, he unlatched his belt and kicked free from the wreckage. The water was murky and the light fading as the fuselage slipped deeper into the ocean, but he could still see well enough to get a clear assessment of the situation. The man who had been seated next to him was still staring wide-eyed into the space above his seat, but CJ realized now that those eyes had probably gone dim even before the plane had hit the water. The human body was fragile, and between the lack of oxygen, the G forces on the plummet to earth, and the force of impact as the plane hit the water, it would be a miracle if anyone else was still alive. The optimist in CJ had hoped to see some signs of life, some evidence of people struggling to get free from their seats to escape to the surface, but he saw neither.
For a moment, he remained stationary in the water and watched the cabin fall, too stunned to do anything. It only took a moment for his instincts to kick in, though, and he began to swim toward his fellow travelers as quickly as he could. If there was even the slightest chance that someone down there could be saved, he needed to help them. As he reached the first row of intact seats, he started unbuckling people as quickly as he could. He had expected them to start floating upwards, but the turbulence in the wake of the sinking airplane was enough to keep them below the water. With a frustrated frown, he realized that he had to be the one to bring them to the surface. The human brain could only be deprived of oxygen for a few precious minutes before bad things began to happen, he knew, and it wouldn’t do any good to free passengers from the wreckage if he couldn’t get them any life-saving oxygen. It was hard to stomach the thought that the remaining passengers that he hadn’t been able to reach would be lost to the depths of the ocean if he abandoned them, but if he didn’t, those he had freed wouldn’t have a chance, either. Concede and save some passengers or continue on and save none? It was a dilemma that nobody should have to face, especially not someone who called himself a hero, but as frustrating as it was, he knew that there was only one choice. His mind made up, CJ swam toward the freed passengers, gathered as many as he could, and started for the surface.
He broke through the surface of the water with a gasp of breath. Without thinking, he immediately turned to his charges, making sure all their heads were above water before starting CPR as best he could. He braced one arm under the person’s back while trying to do chest compressions with his free hand, but in every case he was met with failure. A quick peek inside any one of them could have told him the damage was done, but he ignored the reality of the situation, continuing on in vain, talking to his patients, urging them to take a breath. After a few minutes of frantic action, even the eternal optimist inside of him recognized that it was useless. CJ gave out a frustrated cry as he flopped onto his back and stuck his arms out to the side, turning his attention to the nearly cloudless blue sky above. He didn’t want to look at the water around him, at the bodies and floating luggage and debris, the last remains of a doomed plane. It was all so surreal, so terrible. The sky, at least, looked like it always had, a tenuous link to reality in a world that had now been turned upside down. He tried not to think about the fact that everyone on that aircraft had been alive not half an hour earlier, looking forward to vacations or business trips or whatever else brought them to that airport. But now....
His thoughts were mercifully interrupted by two specks shooting across the sky. CJ brought his arm up to signal them, and it was only a moment later that his brother’s hands grasped his, and he was being pulled out of the water and into the air.
“CJ?” Jon asked, the surprise evident in his voice. “How did you...? Did anyone survive?”
CJ shook his head. “Not that I can tell,” he answered after a moment. Their flight quickly brought them toward the shore, which was only a few miles away from the crash site. As he looked back toward where the plane had hit the water, he could see a trail of debris strung out along the flight path, although to look at it, one would never guess that it was the last remnants of a major airliner. The rest had simply been consumed by the ocean. “Nobody survived except me. Nobody could’ve,” CJ said, his voice sounding weak even to himself.
Jon stayed prudently silent. There was little doubt that he’d seen similar things since donning the Crimson Superman costume, and he probably knew it was true. CJ turned his attention back toward their destination, which was rapidly approaching. The New Troy coast was well-populated, the morning sun glinting off the numerous houses that lined the shore. Docks pushed out into the sea in regular intervals, and many of them were packed with people trying to see the spectacle. Jon seemed to be veering away from the crowds, though, toward a scrubby portion of shoreline at the mouth of a large creek. “Where are we going?” CJ asked.
“I’m going to put you down someplace quiet, isolated. Someplace where you won’t be seen,” Jon answered with a nod toward their destination. The nearest house was about a mile away, surely far enough to ensure that there wouldn’t be any unwelcome visitors. The brothers quickly descended, landing amongst the trees.
“Are you going to be all right?” Jon asked as he released CJ’s hands.
CJ gave him a crooked smile. “I already survived the worst,” he said. “I think I can take care of myself until you guys get done.”
Jon nodded and made an attempt to return the smile, but he could only manage a worried grimace. “Uh, well, then I guess I’ll see you in a few.” With a nod, he took off faster than the human eye could follow and returned to the scene of the crash to begin cleaning things up.
***
As Jenny finally awoke, she stretched out in the bed that she had all to herself, reveling for a moment in the feeling of the warm sun against the bed sheets. She was acutely aware of how precious mornings like these were, and how few and far between they would be once she embarked on her life in the “real world.” The only thing that could make the moment better was to wake up with her new husband nestled next to her. But, she thought with a smile, technically this was the second time that she had awoken that morning, and the first time she did have the pleasure of waking up in his arms.
The sun hadn’t been up yet when he had rolled out of bed. CJ wasn’t exactly a morning person, but he had been booked on the red eye to Gotham, and the lines through the security checkpoint at the Metropolis airport were notoriously slow. He had taken all necessary precautions to avoid waking her as he got up, but she had been able to sense the moment when he was no longer next to her. She was discreet in watching him get ready, letting him think that she was still asleep. There was just something about him that she could never tire of seeing, be it his graceful, fluid motions or his perfectly chiseled body. In any case, the jig was up when he came over to give her a quick kiss before leaving.
“Somebody’s been sneaky,” he said as he bent over and gave her a peck on the forehead. Jenny reached up and wrapped one arm around his neck, pulling his head back toward her so that she could more properly wish him goodbye.
“Somebody wanted to get an eyeful of her husband before he left her alone for two days,” she answered after they pulled apart, her lips barely an inch from his.
She could feel CJ smile. “Two days is hardly forever,” he said as he perched himself on the edge of the bed. “And it seems to me that you’d be happy to be rid of the old ball and chain for a while.”
“Well, since you put it that way,” she answered, and CJ feigned a look of hurt. At her chuckle, he leaned over and planted another small kiss on her lips.
“So, refresh my memory. Is there anything in particular that you wanted me to look for while I’m house hunting in Gotham?” CJ rose from the bed and walked over to grab his backpack.
Jenny rolled onto her back and pulled the sheet up over her shoulders. “Oh, you know. White picket fence, lots of green grass and big shady trees...something appropriate for 2.1 kids and maybe a dog.”
“Not a studio apartment. Check,” he said. Jenny just smiled. The banter was a good reason why she had married him. “If I find something like that in fantasy land, though, I’ll be sure to let you know.”
Jenny felt the urge to throw something at him, but it quickly passed. “Okay, seriously, if you can find anything in a neighborhood that isn’t overrun with crime and violence, that’s all I ask,” she said.
CJ, whose hand was resting on the bedroom doorknob, cocked his head and gave her a sly grin. “You know, my job is going to be fighting crime and violence. If I live in a neighborhood that’s too crime-free, it might make for a lot of long commutes....” He trailed off. Apparently he had noticed the daggers in her eyes, and gave her his most charming grin. “Have good couple of days,” he said, swinging open the bedroom door. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” Jenny said, returning his smile. She watched him leave, then rolled over and waited for the apartment door to open and close before letting herself relax. If she hadn’t known any better, she would have thought that he looked anxious, and she supposed she could understand why. They were both turning the page to a new chapter in their lives, and he would be leaving the only city he had ever known, the home of his family, and going away to make another place his home. Truthfully, she was a little nervous too. Maybe more nervous than she was willing to admit, she thought with a frown as her stomach clenched up. Even since they had returned from the honeymoon she hadn’t felt well, especially in the mornings. At first it had been attributed to the food on the cruise ship, although she later decided it was anxiety. She got up and ran to the bathroom, falling prey to whatever it was that was upsetting her stomach, then returned to bed to try and sleep it off.
Now, as she laid in her bed and stared absently at the ceiling, she began to wonder if maybe something else wasn’t behind her raw stomach. Food poisoning generally left her system within a day or two, and even nerves had never made her as sick as she had been lately. But, if she looked at things logically, the pieces of this little puzzle could be put together to reach an entirely different conclusion. She was sick in the mornings, and was a little...late. Given the activities that she and CJ had engaged in, starting around finals week and continuing regularly since, it was very possible that she was.... Well, she thought as she swung her legs around and rose from bed, no conclusions would be reached until she took a certain test.
As she dressed and got herself ready for the day, her theory wouldn’t leave her mind and she knew it wouldn’t until she either confirmed her suspicion or was able to dismiss it as wishful thinking. It was best to just get it over with then, she thought, grabbing a granola bar as she passed through the apartment and headed directly for the door and the corner drugstore. It was hard to hold in her excitement, and she had to stop herself from breaking out into a jog as she made the short trip to the store and back. It was even harder not to notice the little grin the cashier gave her as she checked out. Once back at home, Jenny took a moment to calm her racing pulse, then walked slowly to the bathroom, unwrapped the test, and did everything that the instructions said. After waiting the longest thirty seconds in her life, she picked up the test, looked in the window, and then blinked a few times, just to be sure she was seeing what she thought she was seeing.
“Oh my God,” she said, reaching for the counter and guiding herself along it until she was able to sit down on the toilet lid. Maybe it was just as well that CJ was gone for a couple of days, because she had no idea how to tell him the news. She turned again toward the test, which was still firmly held in her hand, and began trying to sort out how she felt. They had never talked about the possibility of having a family, or even contemplated whether they should HAVE a talk about having children. On the other hand, they hadn’t exactly been extra cautious, either, and she supposed that in the backs of their minds, they had just figured that, when the time was right, it would just happen.
But the time sure didn’t seem to be right. Were they old enough to be parents? Were they responsible enough to be taking care of a child? They were moving to a new city away from their family and friends and now, on top of everything else, they would be ushering a baby into the world. It seemed overwhelming, but at the same time, she couldn’t help but feel overjoyed. She knew that she was grinning like an idiot, and she knew that she probably would be for a large part of the next 8 months. No matter what other emotions she held regarding her pregnancy, at the root of it all was profound happiness and love for her husband, even if it was all a little too much to process at the moment.
Dazed, Jenny put the test on the counter and rose from the toilet, placing her left hand over her lower belly as she shuffled into the living room. She had to call her mother, then Lois and Clark, then every obscure friend that she had made throughout the years, she thought as she collapsed on the couch. Then, once that was done, there was the business that needed to be attended to here in Metropolis, finding a job in Gotham, and...she had to stop her line of thought as she realized that she was starting to hyperventilate. Calm yourself, Jenny, she thought. Take it all one step at a time. Maybe take a few minutes to let everything absorb. With a small nod, she picked up the television remote, resolving to get lost in a game show or soap opera for about half an hour before embarking on any plan of action.
The television clicked on, but the show that was usually on that channel at that time of morning had apparently been replaced by some news coverage, the voice of the broadcaster conveying the urgency of the situation. The picture, apparently taken from a helicopter, showed a vast expanse of water with debris strewn about it. Every now and then, one of the Supermen appeared on the screen and then quickly vanished again. It looked like a shipwreck or something, she thought as she relaxed against the couch, placing the remote on the table. Disasters with Super assistance, while tragic, seemed to be a common, everyday experience around Metropolis. It was something that she was going to miss in Gotham City.
“...I’m being told that the Supermen have been able to find no survivors,” the newscaster said as the picture swept across the ocean surface. “The crash was in water at least two miles deep, and recovery of most of the bodies and the wreckage is expected to take several days, even with the help of Superman.”
The picture switched to a man in the studio, who was looking down at piece of paper on the desk in front of him. “The aircraft, which held 225 passengers, was completely booked.” Aircraft? Jenny sat up and scooted fractionally closer to the television. “Metro Air spokesman state that the early flight to Gotham is generally popular, especially with the business class passengers. It is also one of their more profitable routes, and this accident could have a devastating effect on their business.”
Jenny’s mouth went dry and her arms began to tingle. She was pretty sure that CJ’s flight was on Metro Air. But he had left more than three hours ago. Surely it was some other flight. The broadcaster never said the flight originated in Metropolis, although that was the Metro Air hub.
“The passenger list will not be released pending notification to the families of those lost. Meanwhile, an investigation by the FAA is already underway. Needless to say, the crash of flight 329 is, and will be remembered as, one of the terrible airline tragedies of our time.”
Slowly, Jenny turned her attention to the coffee table in front of the couch, and the small stack of papers that it held. It tended to be the dumping ground for mail and various receipts and notifications. The airline reservations had only been made a few days earlier, and the confirmation would probably still be on the coffee table. Her hands were shaky as she picked up the papers and leafed through them, finally finding the sheet with the Metro Air logo at the top. According to this, his flight this morning was flight 329 to Gotham, departing roughly 45 minutes ago. The papers fluttered out of her hand as she stared wide-eyed at the TV screen, numb. No survivors, they had said. But it couldn’t be true, could it? CJ had had a skyscraper collapsed on top of him, she’d seen it. Surely he’d survived. But even if he had, could anyone KNOW that he had?
It was then that the phone began to ring.
***
Since first donning the spandex a good thirty years earlier, it was safe to say that Clark had seen his fair share of accident scenes and disaster aftermaths. No two were alike, each having their own unique characteristics. Even categories of disasters – hurricanes, auto accidents, earthquakes – had unique cases, even if there were some fundamental similarities between them. Airline disasters certainly followed that template, too. In certain situations, where there was a controls malfunction or a fuel supply shortage for example, the problem could be known far enough in advance to get some super help in bringing the plane down. Other times, sudden accidents caused the plane to crash without warning, but even then the circumstances could dictate how many people survived. Airplane crashes didn’t have to be fatal, but under certain circumstances they were, and those were the worst to handle.
As Clark hovered over the ocean and looked deep beneath the waves to the wreckage of the plane below, he knew that this was one of those circumstances. The body of the plane had been torn apart, the wings ripped from the fuselage. Then, very quickly after impact with the water, the aircraft had quickly plummeted to the sea floor, taking almost everyone with it. Nobody should have survived this crash. It was only thanks to his lineage that CJ had survived, and Clark thanked every deity imaginable for the fact that CJ was safe. But if he’d been any normal human being, he would be down there with the rest, a victim of horrible circumstance. It would be hard to explain the bodies that were floating in the water above the wreckage, the ones that CJ had apparently freed and tried to save. Even harder to explain, though, would be a lone survivor showing up, one who was miraculously unharmed.
Below, a boat carrying the officials involved with the crash investigation circled the crash area, their data collection already beginning. Most of those men were people that Clark had met before at scenes similar to this one. He knew that they were waiting for him to stop by and let them know what the situation was, and he dreaded what it was that he was about to say. Jon had already been sent away to retrieve CJ and take him home, and Clark had been hovering in the air much longer than he needed to assess the situation and complete his job. They were probably wondering what the hold up was, he thought with a sigh, and rightly so. It was time to face the music.
Quickly, Clark descended to the ship deck, quickly catching the attention of the officials aboard. After a round of greetings and handshaking, they got down to business.
“What’s the assessment, Superman?” the man from the National Transportation Safety Board asked.
Clark chose his words carefully. “I could not find any evidence of survivors,” he told them, hoping that none of them could hear the discomfort in his voice. He wanted to leave some wiggle room, if it was possible, on the off chance that maybe a way could be found to make it so that CJ could be alive. It would have been so absolute to state outright that nobody had survived, and it seemed presumptive to all but declare his son dead without talking to CJ first.
A few eyebrows rose at the statement, but nobody seemed to question it. “Were there any obvious signs of a cause?” another man asked. “Have you been able to locate the black box?” said a third. Clark found himself more at ease as the subject of survivors passed. He stayed long enough to answer their questions, took a brief detour to the ocean floor to retrieve the flight data recorders and return them to the investigators, then made his way home. It was hard to escape the feeling of finality that was building within him, one that suggested that there would be no escaping the inevitable outcome. He just hoped he was wrong.
