son_of_krypton_ (son_of_krypton_) wrote in newalliance, @ 2012-07-22 08:19:00 |
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Entry tags: | lois lane-kent, superman |
Who: Superman (narrative, & flashbacks)
NPCs: Joker, Batman, Lois Lane
When: July 22, 2012
Where: The Batcave (flashbacks to Metropolis)
What: The unthinkable
Rating: R for violence
The sounds of the Cave echoed throughout. Dripping water, wind, the soft sound of the bats taking flight at different parts of the day. The man who heard everything heard this as well, but his mind was elsewhere.
I killed him.
His blue eyes squeezed shut, trying to shut the pain from this unthinkable statement back. No. No, he didn't kill. He'd pledged his life to never take the life of another, no matter what. He wasn't a god, he wasn't a judge. He was ...
Killer.
The word stung just as much as before. When ... the unthinkable had happened.
Even Batman never killed him. The man that knew the lunatic better than anyone, the man that should have killed him a dozen times over... he never stepped over that edge. What kind of a man takes another's life?
Or maybe you aren't just a man anymore.
Raised by humans. Taught to understand the potential of kindness and goodwill by them. Instructed from a birth father he'd never known to never take the life of a human. To never interfere in that way.
"Boy, oh boy, oh BOY, you don't disappoint, do you?!" Insane mocking laughter that infuriated him, but he fought it back. "The big blue bouncing BOYSCOUT is just as he appears, huh? A big old slab of truth, justice and the American way! But uh, just like the American way, he's got cracks in him, don't he?" Pain. Stabbing pain, he's not used to that, he's been exhausted, but this ... this goes deep into his core.
"HHOOOOOHAHAHAHAHAHAHEEEEHHAHAHAAAAA!! Lookit how the big man falls! Saaaaaaaaaaay, this is some rock, huh fella?!" The clown is crouched next to him, holding the sample close, almost next to his head. The headache is beyond anything that he's felt before, it's like his brain is starting to boil. He's trying to get away, but...
"ExCUSE ME. RUDE." A sharp kick to his side and he hears one of his ribs break. That ... that doesn't happen. "Right in the middle of a CHAT, and you take a powder? TSK. I heard you were polite."
He turned over, shoulders hunched, fists clenched. That ... man, how did he get his hands on... No. No. That wasn't the point right now, it wasn't ...
You murdered him. You took the life of another, and you didn't even save her.
A whimper escaped his throat, one of shame and of more torment.
He saved her. He did what you couldn't. He saved the woman you loved and never killed the lunatic, no matter what.
"Listen, boy-o. I get it. You're in a lotta pain, right? Sorta new to you, yeah. But buckup 'old chum! Things COULD be a lot worse." He turned his face away to gasp for air, but it was snatched back, now inches from the scarred face. "See, pain? You can get over preeeeeeeeeeetty quick. I know somethin' about that. See these scars?" The grin widened, the scarred face cracking anew. "All about the pain. But kiddo," the other fumbled in his purple coat, taking out a spray bottle, "that's all small 'taters compared to fear."
"And as much fun as this is," a hoot of laughter that echoed around the space, "and it's a little slice of heaven, cupcake! As much fun as it is seeing the Man 'O Steel writhe in a little agonnyyyyyyyyy.... I gotta know." The voice dropped, dangerous in its intense lowness. "What. Does. He. Fear."
He was panting with anger mixed with desperation and loathing, his entire body tensed and curled tight into a ball. No, no no no no no....
Your worst fear come to life. Murderer. You promised yourself. Ma and Pa. Jor-El. Your family. You'd never take a life, no matter the circumstances. You could have stopped yourself. You know this. The entire world knows this. And now they know exactly what you are.
The spray bottle went off in his face as the Joker's maniacal laughter sounded out again. He coughed, sucking in the contents of the can. Everything shifted, as pain mixed with anger, pure rage beyond his control. The pain subsided under the rush of the new emotion.
His eyes opened slowly, the Daily Planet rooftop gone. The clown watched, his head tilting to the side, the laughter bubbling up from his throat in a mad cackle.
The faces of his family ... Ma and Pa ... Lois ... Kara and Conner swam before his eyes, dead or dying. He was paralyzed by the fear, he couldn't move. But then ... something else... He felt outside of his body, outside of control of it, and yet not. The pain was gone, or at least, he could ignore it. Something inside of him took over, almost brushed him aside.
His sorrow and distress came to a crescendo, and he let out a howl of pain that had nothing to do with the Kryptonite. He was sobbing, screaming, reaching for the now decaying bodies of his family. More filtered into view: Jimmy, Bruce, all the heroes he'd known, trusted and cared for. He couldn't save them. He was too late.
The blast from his eyes came without warning, even he wasn't in control of it. The scream from the clown jerked him back to reality long enough to see the event: the Joker toppling over the edge of the building, his body ablaze.
Clark's body jerked with silent sobs. He'd killed him. He'd killed someone that even his best friend had never killed. The reports stated that the remains found after the fall matched the Joker's and the cause of death was incineration.
"Oh Rao," he whispered into the dim space, "Father ... I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I can't ... I didn't ..." The sobs became audible, whimpers of fear and self loathing. "No one d-deserves ... not even the most ... You never killed anyone, Jor-El? Even when it might have saved lives you didn't ..."
His words were lost in tears and pain. Finally, after several minutes he spoke again.
"... I can't be Superman. I don't ... I'm not that." His head bowed, and he looked at the cape on the floor. "I'm a killer."