Break
By Blueowl
A/N: Special thanks to Morgana, Chereche, and Mary who helped me flesh out plot holes and improve the story overall ^_^. And thanks to those on FOLC's Skype group who listened to me ramble and helped me clarify ideas.

Summary: A different ending to the House of Luthor. Superman manages to break the cage when he rams it, resulting in a messier escape. A detailed 'what-if'. Warning: descriptive injuries and wound treatment.
Rating: PG-13
____________________
Part 1: Escape

The burning was constant, ebbing agony through his entire frame, but the organ music playing floors above blaring in his ears was even more painful because of what it meant. Clenching his jaw, he forced himself up to his knees.

“Come on, get up,” he ordered himself.

Gritting his teeth, he gripped the white cummerbund Luthor had taunted him with tightly in his hand and got to his feet. He knew he didn’t have much strength left but there was no choice. He would either force his way out or he would die. With a deep breath, he set his eyes on an area not reinforced with the door frame. Luthor had engineered the box robustly and had ensured the door itself was not a weak spot. He also knew the bottom frame of the cage was magnetized to the floor through the concrete because he could hear the buzz of solenoid coils under the floor. He would likely never forget the sound of them energizing as the bars came down around him.

He backed up as much as he dared, wanting some level of a running start, even though every inch closer to the bars on the other side sapped what remained of his power. And then he charged.

With a silent pleaful prayer, he bashed his side and shoulder into two of the bars as hard as he could, so much so that he doubted the amount of effort he put into destroying Nightfall even compared.

Pain exploded into him as green shards intermingled with steel scattered all over the floor. He followed, through the now broken cage. His vision flashed white as his entire right side crashed down onto the concrete and debris. Fragments of the cage sheared into him, but he didn't have time to curl up and wish death to end it, for he had decided to live.

He scrambled up, gasping as he peered down at himself to find several fragments of glowing metal protruding from his arm, side, and leg. He swiftly yanked them out, using the cummerbund as a makeshift glove, tossing them back into his former prison before hurriedly pressing his worst injury with the white cloth to staunch the bleeding. He then wrapped his cape around himself. Although he didn't think most of his wounds were bleeding a concerning amount, he did not want to leave a trail.

Carefully, he urged himself forward, but, while having plenty of motivation, his whole being throbbed with unparalleled fatigue and brokenness.

The music was gone. Was the wedding over? It didn't seem like enough time had passed, but it wasn't like he could rely on his internal clock right now anyway.

He paused by the barrels, kicking himself for not heading the opposite way immediately - wasn't there another elevator that way? - but then the sound of someone running met his ears and he had no time.

He hurried further behind the barrels and collapsed against the far wall before freezing in place and biting his lip to hold in the cry of pain caused by jolting his side onto brick.

"Sorry, no time to chat. I think I'll just take my pound of flesh an--"

Luther froze at the sight of the destroyed cage before whipping around and slamming his ax into the nearest barrel with a barbaric cry of rage.

Superman didn't dare breathe or move at all.

Luthor stormed off in a whirlwind of wrath and hate.

He sagged further to the floor, partially propped up by the wall. He shifted against a barrel, away from the cold wall, and was unable to stop himself from sinking closer to the concrete. He would just lay here and rest for a moment.

He closed his eyes, wondering for a fluttering moment if he was far enough away from the kryptonite, but then his mind surrendered to sleep.
.
.
.
"What on earth is this?!" a startled voice asked as the sound of several people making their way down the wooden stairs echoed through the cellar.

"You've got me, but there's blood," the voice of Bill Henderson said. "Someone or something literally broke through the bars."

"Has the room been cleared? Any clues to what was in there?" another voice asked. It sounded like the Police Captain, Wallace.

Superman opened his eyes, alarmed at finding how blurred his vision was, not to mention how numb his whole side felt. That couldn’t be good. He needed to get out of there.

"We're about to clear it," a voice put in.

"What was Luthor doing down here? Just when I think I can't become more disgusted with that monster. . . . Good riddance to him," another voice said.

Superman steeled himself to move. He knew he didn't look good, but being found crumpled on the floor like a dying animal because of what Luthor had done to him felt like giving the man another victory. He got to his knees, using the nearby barrel as a brace. But he didn't have any energy left to stand. He needed help.

"Bill!" he called out, grateful that his voice didn't crack. He wasn't certain he would have been as lucky if he had needed to speak more than one syllable.

The four men lifted their weapons and rushed to that side of the room. Bill Henderson saw him first.

"Good heavens!" an officer exclaimed behind Bill's muffled curse.

"What happened?!" Bill asked, appalled as he put his gun away and moved to help.

"Luthor," Superman stated wearily.

"Get the paramedics down here, now!" Wallace ordered, grabbing hold of his radio. "This is Wallace. Get six more units here pronto. We will need an escort and get another six at the nearest hospital to secure it."

"Superman?" Bill asked, ignoring the sudden commotion behind him.

"Poison," he said, casting his gaze beyond Henderson and to the shattered cage. Kryptonite was too big a word, so he hoped Bill would correctly identify the foriegn green material as the danger. "Need to . . . get out."

Henderson came to his side after a brief moment of hesitation. There was blood, and it seemed to be seeping from everywhere. There was even a cut on his cheek that extended down to under his ear, with lines of drying blood that disappeared beneath the neckline of his suit.

Henderson draped Superman's right arm across his shoulders. It was a tight fit behind the barrels, but there was no way a stretcher would fit back there.

"Ready?" Henderson asked.

Superman nodded and gripped his shoulder in grim determination.

The Inspector stood up, pulling him to his feet, but the movement caused razorblade like pain to rip along his whole injured side and he couldn't stop himself from crying out.

"The paramedics are on their way," one of the officers said, approaching but uncertain on how to help. His badge read Collins.

"Collins, get his other side when we're beyond the barrels. Matthews, be ready to help if need be," Henderson ordered, ignoring the bloody, formerly pure white cummerbund that landed by his foot.

Wallace had left to help orchestrate their extraction of the downed hero.

"Thanks. Luthor stopped?" Superman asked, having to allow Henderson to take more of his weight as they came out from behind the barrels. Collins quickly came to his other side and mirrored Henderson's grip.

"Yes. Perry White and his team got the evidence against him and he just took the coward's way out off the balcony," Bill bluntly summarized.

"Married?" Superman asked, unable to keep the grimace from his face as the presence of Kryptonite continued to echo throughout the room. It also became obvious the barrels had been offering some protection.

"No, we got there in time, though it sounded like Lane stopped it just before then anyway."

Superman sighed in relief, but that feeling was short lived as he found he couldn't keep himself upright any longer.

"Matthews, help!" Henderson shouted.

Matthews rushed forward, preventing them from dropping the Man of Steel.

"Okay, get his legs. We've got to move. He needs to get away from that glowing stuff ASAP."

"You think it's radioactive?" Matthews asked.

"That's my guess."

"A hazmat team has been called for it," Collins said. "The Cap made the call on his way out."

"Good. Better to be safe," Henderson said as they suddenly moved.

Henderson was glad Superman's uniform had a belt, thin as it was, as it gave him something to hold onto as they made a beeline to the stairs.

Superman nearly blacked out as they passed the cage, and he might have moaned from the red hot spike of pain but he was beyond himself now. Everything was murky and he felt submerged.

He heard Henderson and Collins breathing heavily as they carried him, and Matthews grunt when he almost missed a step. He was also distantly aware of a growing wetness gathering at his side as a dull throbbing coiled around his chest and right thigh.

"Hold open the door!" Matthews shouted up the steps. "We're coming!"

They made it up to the landing and through the door ten seconds later, the men urgently getting him out of the toxic room.

A stretcher appeared in front of them a blink later, and, before he could fully take a breath, several paramedics took him from Henderson and the others and placed him upon it.

He wanted to take a moment to collect himself - never had so many touched him so boldly at once as Superman, or Clark - but the atmosphere around him suddenly plummeted into chaos.

Hands pressed against him and things were passed overhead. He felt something metallic and cold run along his side and down both his arms before the top front half of his uniform was yanked away. He didn't resist.

From what little he could see of himself, fragments of the cage had done more damage than he had thought. He had never seen so much of his blood before. He wondered if he was in shock. He felt he should be more disturbed about being so exposed, but perhaps the sight of his red boots beyond blood spattered blue spandex was just too much to register anything further.

"Hold that! Grab another! There is no blood bank for him! We have to stop the bleeding!"

"More gauze!"

"I've got it, here!"

"Good, good."

A hand went against his neck and he could make out hazy forms above him as all speech he heard turned garbled. He felt things being secured onto his bare chest, an odd sensation on his inner forearm, and someone wrapping something around his sore arm and thigh as something white was taped to the side of his face. Soon after, a plastic object was placed over his nose and mouth. He sucked in revitalizing air. Blinking, he strained to understand when Henderson's face appeared above his. They were still moving but slower than before.

"Superman, is there anything you can tell us? How do we help you?"

"Lead blocks the . . . radiation," he managed through the mask. "No harm to you . . . short term. Not sure long term."

"Okay. Anything on how to best help you?"

"Clean wounds. Can't have any . . . left in me."

"Can you feel any of it right now?" Henderson asked, concerned.

"Yes. I don't feel as bad, but. . . ."

"Do you have any next of kin? Anyone you want us to call or to be your advocate if need be?"

"Hmm . . . White. If he accepts," he managed, forcing his mind to think. "I trust him."

"Perry White?" Henderson asked.

"Yes."

"Okay, I'll get a hold of him as soon as I can."

"Sir, we have the reporters and public pushed back. We should move him to the ambulance now," a voice said.

"Agreed," Henderson said, pulling away.

A flurry of activity swirled around him again, and he was forced to close his eyes. Soon after, shouts of what sounded like some form of instructions echoed overhead.

"Alright there, Superman?" a voice asked as a hand gripped his shoulder.

"Dizzy," he whispered.

"Okay, just let me know if you feel like you might throw up," the paramedic said gently. "Hang on, we're going to lift you on three."

The haze of movement enveloped his senses again and he couldn't differentiate any of it for a long moment, save for the lurch of the stretcher being secured to the floor of the ambulance. He couldn't even attempt to hold back a pain-filled gasp at the jolt as a wave of whirling agony nearly swallowed him.

"Sorry, my friend. So sorry. They'll take you to the hospital now," another voice said before he heard the slam of two doors.

He felt the paramedic's hand on his shoulder again. He latched onto the sensation like a child grips their father's hand in the dark.

He exhaled shakily.

"ETA, seven minutes," the driver said as things calmed enough even though the sirens of the ambulance suddenly blared above him.

His vision began to clear somewhat so he took a moment to take stock of himself. He was propped up about 60 degrees and he saw his arms and right leg were wrapped while his torso had two bandages liberally taped against his skin. Red blotches were on all of them, but at least he wasn't in danger of bleeding to death. And he had an IV in his left arm. When had they put that in? He blinked up at the bag. Saline? He supposed that was okay. It was supposed to help with hydration, right? He was pretty thirsty.

He closed his eyes.

O o O o O

Perry walked further away from the building with Jimmy, Jack, and Lois. The coroner had arrived and the area where Luthor . . . landed had thankfully been cordoned off.

He was grateful the wedding had been stopped and that Luthor would never be able to harm anyone else ever again.

But where was Clark?

He had done so much to bring Luthor's activities to the light and now he was nowhere to be found. Had Luthor done something?

His thoughts were suddenly sidelined when a storm of police cruisers swarmed the side entrance of the LexCorp Tower with an ambulance close behind. There was already a police presence around the building but this felt different, urgent. Police blanketed the area and began directing news crews and pedestrians further away. What on earth had they found?

Horrible images came to his mind. He knew 'The Boss' had his hands on everything, including human trafficking. Surely the billionaire hadn't been so sure of himself to hold human slaves at the heart of his empire! Wait - he was that confident.

The paramedics rushed into the building as another vehicle was suddenly waved down the street by the police. A hazmat van. What in the world was going on?!

"Perry, what's going on?" Lois asked, scared that yet another putrid secret was about to shatter her world again.

"I don't know," he said, worried himself.

They continued to watch from a distance as a huge crowd of officers exited the building. The police were surrounding what he could only assume were paramedics guiding a stretcher to the ambulance. It was impossible to tell for sure though because they were holding up a tarp as they went. They couldn't see much beyond that but the first responders were swift and coordinated to get that covered stretcher into the ambulance in record time.

With sirens on and lights flashing, the ambulance pulled out, joined by a large escort of police cruisers.

"Who was that?" Jimmy asked.

"Don't know, but it must be someone important. They usually only escort dignitaries like that," Perry said grimly.

"Perry White!" a voice shouted from the direction of LexCorp Tower.

Perry, Lois, Jimmy and Jack turned to find Henderson running across the street toward them, away from the gathered police.

"Bill?!" Perry asked. The man had what Perry was certain was blood on his suit. "Are you okay?!"

"Yes. It's not mine. Would you mind coming with me to the hospital? It's important," Henderson stated, glancing at Lois. "I'd rather not discuss it further here."

"Oh, sure, sure. No problem, I'll come," Perry said, before turning to Lois who was about to speak. "Go home. You've been through a lot today. Wait. Don’t go home. Just in case reporters are already there. You can stay at my place until this calms. Alice won’t mind.”

"Okay, Chief," she said, biting her lip at seeing Henderson's rather serious expression.

"Jimmy, Jack, make sure she gets there. You can take my rental. She needs to get out of here before the media notices her."

They nodded and headed off as Perry looked back to Bill.

"Alright, we can take my car. It's this way," Henderson said.

Knowing an anxious man when he saw one, Perry kept pace and asked no questions as they went to the car and got in. Only when they pulled out of the parking lot did Perry look over at the Inspector, expecting answers.

"We found Superman critically injured in Luthor's wine cellar. There was a green glowing cage and my guess is that Superman managed to break out of it less than an hour before we got down there. However, in doing so, it did a number on him."

"He was hurt? You mean -- this blood is his?!" Perry asked, pointing at the man's darkened sleeve.

"Yeah. Whatever that green glowing stuff is, it can kill him. We had to carry him out of there. Which, when we get to the hospital, I'll need to get decontaminated before we can see him. I likely got some of it on me."

"Kryptonite. It's real," Perry breathed, horrified.

"Kryptonite?"

"Pieces of Krypton, his home planet. A few months after he first appeared, there was a lunatic trying to hunt him down, claiming he was a threat to humanity and he believed he could kill him with a rock. He almost killed Clark Kent, believing the man was Superman himself! Lois and Clark covered the story," Perry explained.

"Did the man have any of this kryptonite?" Henderson asked.

"Supposedly. It's a meteorite. It was being dug up in Smallville. When it was all over, it was sent to the meteorological society there or something. I can have someone check if you like."

"Please. We need as much information as possible."

"So why are we going to the hospital exactly?" Perry asked.

"I asked Superman if he wanted anyone to be his next of kin or medical advocate. He asked for you, on the condition you accept. Said he trusted you," Henderson said, turning at an intersection.

Perry blinked, rocked to the core. He had never felt so humbled before in his life.

"Great shades of Elvis. I'm . . . blown away. I accept of course," he managed. "What's his condition? How bad is it?"

"He was conscious and talking when we loaded him in the ambulance, but he lost a lot of blood and has several lacerations, puncture wounds, and burns."

“And Luthor had him in a cage?” Perry asked, trying to wrap his mind around what he was hearing.

“Yes. I’m not sure for how long, but I don’t recall hearing about any Superman rescues at all today. Do you?”

Perry frowned. “No.”

Henderson hummed as they turned into the hospital parking lot.

O o O o O

Comments go here: Comments