Chapter Text
The lack of soulmark wasn’t highest on Clark’s list of priorities when it came to categorizing all the traits that set him apart from everybody else in the world. All the other aspects were more immediately pressing, considering how dangerous they could be if left untamed, so he put the thought of soulmarks and everlasting bonds and empathy pangs out of his mind and worried instead about how to control each of his impossible powers. At least 5% of Earth’s population were unmarked, Pa told him, which meant that although his bare skin made him a statistical anomaly, it was infinitely less remarkable than his impenetrable skin.
There were greater things to worry about than not having a soulmate. Being the last surviving member of a planet being one of them. Hiding this fact from those who would want to hurt him being another.
But even these problems were nothing compared to the suffering across the world. Suffering that Clark could help prevent, that he was obligated to stop, given the powers bestowed upon him.
So Superman was born and Clark packed up his loneliness and left it in an empty corner of his heart. A heart he would have to learn to fill on his own, since the universe didn’t deem it necessary for Kryptonians to be designated a fated partner. In its own way, this was a relief. It gave Clark the free reign to love whomever he wanted, however he wanted.
(“What’s it feel like?” he had asked his ma once, leaning into her side as she chose fabric quarters for her quilt. He’d gently nudged her leg with his foot, trying to hint at the mark on her ankle.
“You mean your father’s feelings thundering around at all hours in my head?” she had joked, and they’d shared a laugh at the thought of Pa making so much ruckus.
“Yeah.”
“It’s…like having a constant friend. Someone there to get through the bad times and celebrate the good. Someone to rely on.”
“That sounds nice,” Clark had said wistfully. There was nothing that sounded quite as lovely as a constant friend.
Ma must have noticed the longing in his voice. “But Clark, sweetheart, never forget that you can share that with someone even without a soulmate. The wonderful thing about this world is that you can choose to love anyone you want, no matter what the universe says.”
Clark hadn’t quite believed her at the time. But he was coming to understand that love in all its beautiful forms could be in his reach if he was willing to take a chance.)
And if he found himself yearning for the wordless way his parents could understand one another, the glances they shared that felt like an embrace, the constant flow of emotion between them that could go unstated — it was just a fleeting daydream. A glimpse of a piece of humanity that would never be his.
It was fine.
(But how wondrous it would be, to be tied so intimately to another person.
How wondrous it would be, to not be alone.)
*
Clark was something of a romantic at heart, which really made the whole dating situation even more difficult when stacked on top of the secretly an alien issue. While it wasn’t taboo or even really frowned upon for unmarked people to date those with marks, especially in Metropolis, it seemed impractical to him to try and form a romantic relationship with someone who might someday find the person intended for them. Someone who would never be Clark. Considering how busy his job at the Daily Planet and his unpaid part-time stint as a superhero left him, romance wasn’t something he was very seriously pursuing. That didn’t mean he was opposed to letting a connection develop, if the chance came up, but if his fruitless crush on Lois Lane taught him anything, it was that what he really needed right now was a good friend above all else.
Lois was sharp and driven and funny, and it was really an impossibility for Clark not to fall for her a little bit. But there was a curl of slate gray on her right arm, that vanished up under her sleeve, and Clark knew that whatever soft warmth and blinding admiration he held for her would be nothing compared to whatever great love awaited her in the future.
One day that mark would turn a brilliant silver, and wonderful, irrepressible Lois would find someone who could match her in all the ways she deserved, so there was no point in Clark letting his infatuation build into anything more.
Besides, she was already important enough to him as his first unintentional secret keeper.
It was a stupid, stupid mistake on his part. He’d been Superman for less than a year, so he hadn’t quite worked out all the kinks in his transformation sequence, as it were. The Daily Planet’s rooftop was generally devoid of any life, so he’d been using it as his go-to changing room.
Given his speed and enhanced hearing, he had never run into any problems before today. But putting out three fires during his lunch break left him distracted when he flew back to finish up his work day, and it was the inexcusable slip up of worrying too much about whether to go home during the next three day weekend that left him unawares that someone else was on that rooftop with him when he landed.
Clark heard her heartbeat just nanoseconds before her gasp, but by then it was too late to spirit himself away in a gust of wind and hope that she hadn’t noticed.
“Oh my god,” Lois said, gaping at him as he struggled not to rip his buttons right off in an attempt to get his shirt back in order. What a mess.
He was caught between trying to fix his clothes and reaching out toward her in alarm, his pulse ratcheting up all the while. “Lois, please- you can’t-”
“Don’t worry,” she said immediately, hurrying over to help him straighten out his shirt. “Your secret’s safe with me. The question is: is it safe with you? I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you’re putting on something of a show up here.”
Despite the adrenaline coursing through him, Clark couldn’t help but laugh, the sound bursting from his chest with relief. “Besides my parents, you’re the only person who knows, if that’s any indication.”
“I’d be more honored if I didn’t basically catch you with your pants down,” she sighed, reaching up to tousle his hair back into something more Clark and a little less Superman. “There, farm fresh all over again.”
He slipped the glasses back on afterwards, delighting in the way a scowl overtook her face.
“I can’t believe it,” she muttered as they descended the stairs together. “A pair of glasses. Glasses!”
“I’d like to think there’s a little more to the secret than that.”
“True, the whole ‘aw shucks’ routine and awful suits and fake clumsiness do a lot to sell the bit.”
“It’s not all fake,” Clark admitted, ignoring the way she flicked at his ill-fitted suit with disgust. “It can be difficult to gauge how soft and slow a touch some things take. I’d rather fumble things everywhere than accidentally crush something I shouldn’t.”
“This, I need to hear more about. Actually, I need to hear more about everything. Strictly off the record, of course,” Lois asid, her hand coming to rest on his wrist in reassurance. Even if he couldn’t hear her pulse, he would know beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was telling the truth.
“Lunch tomorrow?” he offered, watching as a smile bloomed on her face.
“On me. It’s the least I could do for that close shave last month. Though I’m betting one lunch won’t be enough for me to get through all my questions.”
“It’s a good thing that one of us needs to eat every day, then,” he told her as he returned to his seat, laughing when her eyes widened.
“Wait, Kent, you can’t just leave me hanging like that!”
*
Having Lois in the know really took a weight off Clark’s shoulders. But there was only so much he could turn to her for, even if she threw herself into the thick of the action. Lois was only human, a civilian, someone important to him that he didn’t want to endanger. There was plenty that he was happy to share with her, but there was so much more that he saw every day that he couldn’t burden her with.
“Make some friends!” she suggested over drinks after he declined to tell her what was weighing on his mind after another exhausting night of stopping unnecessary violence. “There’s been sightings of other people like you. Central City, Gotham- word on the vine is there’s this seven-foot tall beauty literally whipping criminals into shape, though I’m guessing that one went through some Telephone-esque changes.”
“I’ve seen the articles too, but- just because we’re in the same line of work doesn’t mean they’d want to have anything to do with me.”
“You’re selling yourself short, Kansas. You’re you,” she said, gesturing wildly at him in a way that he had to assume meant “Superman.” “Who wouldn’t want to take you up on that offer?”
“I suppose,” Clark said as he poked the cherry in the Shirley Temple Lois ordered him when he told her he wasn’t much of a drinker. “It would be nice to connect to someone who understands what it’s like. To have an ally.”
“Exactly. Take a little flight over and introduce yourself. What’s the worst that could happen?”
Gotham, being the closest city with its own vigilante problem, was where Superman turned first. It was both convenience and curiosity that drove him there, because even as Clark Kent, he was unduly intrigued by the rumors of the dark crusader who began patrolling Gotham’s alleyways and terrorizing its criminal element two years ago. It was the same sensation that he imagined a moth felt when approaching a flame, though reversed in its execution.
Demon. Lunatic. Savior. Depending on who you asked, the Bat of Gotham was many things, but one constant was that the people of Gotham thought he was here to stay. Given how bizarre their criminals had become in recent years (An evil clown? A crocodile person? A man who loved puzzles?), a good fraction of the city’s populace seemed glad that they had a swooping nocturnal menace to keep them at bay.
Clark decided to approach at night, since the likelihood of finding his man during the day was very low. Flying toward Gotham was no trouble, but the moment he entered the city limits, a strange pressure closed in around him, buffeting him with uncomfortable tension. Peculiar.
It was as if the city itself wanted to repulse him from its airspace.
Finding the Batman proved not too difficult; Clark followed the sounds of conflict and soon discovered it being swiftly dealt with by someone other than himself. It was odd to watch the process from the outside, even though Batman’s movements and methods were quite different from his own. Clark sat perched on one of the buildings above, quietly waiting for the chance to introduce himself after the other man finished trussing up his mobsters. He had briefly considered stepping in to help, but Batman seemed to have the situation well under control, and he suspected that he wouldn’t make the best first impression charging in.
When Batman was done propping the last man against the wall, he turned sharply, cape swirling around him, to glower up at Superman, who gave a small wave.
But before Clark could float down for a more proper face-to-face, Batman melted into the shadows of the alley, disappearing from sight.
That was new. None of the articles he’d read had ever mentioned any such power.
Clark turned his x-ray vision on to see if he could track Batman before he escaped, and saw that he hadn’t actually gone very far. The thing with the shadows was just a party trick, apparently. But he looked to be in a hurry to get somewhere, and seconds later, Clark heard the telltale sounds of an earthquake striking on the other side of the country, so he had no choice but to let Batman be and return another night.
The next day, he decided to take the chance to do more reconnaissance. Superman wasn’t exactly known for his subtlety, what with the eye-catching Kryptonian outfit and larger than life modus operandi, so he channeled some of Newbie Reporter Clark Kent’s wallflower energy and did his best to creep along Gotham’s complex rooftops in search of his quarry.
He’d heard Batman’s pulse yesterday, but not for long enough to commit it to memory the way he had his parents’, Lois’, Jimmy’s. So he had to rely on the other sounds of the city, feeling for the ever-beating pulse of crime beneath the laughter and crying and easy conversation. He first found Batman cleaning up some kind of arms deal at the docks and followed him as quietly as possible as he got into his vehicle and tore off for another part of town. Next, Clark watched with open interest as Batman suppressed a man with an umbrella and too many goons, and then sped off for a different corner of the city to deal with a kidnapping plot before taking to the streets to prowl around and scare some ne’er-do-wells.
Even when Batman was randomly patrolling, it seemed as if he had a sixth sense for trouble. That, and a police scanner in his car that Clark could hear. Still, Batman would turn on a dime to stalk off in some direction toward brewing trouble that wasn’t on the police’s radar yet. Almost as if he had super hearing as well. With the rise of what the media had dubbed metahumans, it seemed like this could be a real possibility.
But even if Batman was more than mortal, it didn’t manifest in any of his other actions. There was something startlingly human in the way he would take a punch to the face before rallying back to finish a fight. Despite Batman’s agility and carefully aimed strength, he didn’t seem to have any real leg up on his enemies besides better form and a fortified suit.
As he followed along, Clark himself zoomed off to stop a few muggings and robberies that Batman couldn’t possibly reach in time, figuring he should do his part while in town. The baffled looks he received from criminals and citizens alike were an amusing contrast from the awe and relief he usually inspired when he showed up at disaster zones.
When he returned his attention to Batman, he saw the other man crouched next to a little girl standing barefoot on the pavement. Lying beside them were two unconscious men, but neither paid them any heed, the girl too busy scrubbing her teary face into Batman’s cape.
Whatever discussion they were having before Clark arrived came to an end. Batman carefully freed the girl’s hands from his cape, bringing her arms up toward his shoulders.
“Ready? Hold on tight,” he murmured, his normally grit-filled voice tamed down to a quiet rumble.
“Okay,” the girl whispered back, arms wrapping tight around his neck. Batman curled an arm protectively around her waist before grappling up and away. Clark’s first reaction was alarm that Batman would do something so physically risky with a child in tow, but a joyous shriek of laughter wafted toward him in their wake, and he changed his mind. Batman had already demonstrated plenty of competence with his tools, and anything that elicited that kind of happiness couldn’t be so bad.
Clark observed from a distance as Batman brought the girl straight to the arms of her frantic parents, but he decided to give them their privacy for the rest of the reunion, waiting atop a nearby building for Batman to pass through again.
He was fairly sure that the Bat had caught sight of him at least once during Clark’s ride-along tonight, and he was hoping it meant that the other man would come and confront him.
Clark was right on one count. Batman did swing by again, but all Clark received was another piercing glare as he swept off into the darkness.
*
After two days of surveillance, Clark had drawn his own conclusions about Gotham’s vigilante, and he felt more assured in his decision to try and make the man’s acquaintance.
Batman was terrifying, yes, and somewhat harsh with his methods, but he also seemed to act from a genuine desire to help his city. A man who was only in the vigilante business to pummel some felons wouldn’t have been so gentle with a frightened child. Clark could only assume that Batman was doing this for the same reasons he was.
He returned to Gotham once more the following night, and to his amusement found Batman crouched on a gargoyle, staring out at his city like a silent guardian. As Clark approached, he uncurled from his position and took a step back into the rooftop ledge, eying him warily. When he’d been crouching, Clark had gotten the impression of a tetchy cat surveying its territory, but now, standing tall against the backdrop of a glittering city, a stoic shadow come to life, he struck a more captivating image.
A dark angel sent to pass judgment on humanity, or perhaps to save it.
He looked to be about Clark’s height, and almost as broad, even if the armored suit made it difficult to really make out his body shape. Only his mouth and jaw were visible beneath the cowl, his eyes hidden behind lenses. Clark thought fleetingly that it would be very simple for him to steal a peek at Batman’s face, and then immediately thought better of it. He knew what it meant to have a secret identity. It was best for him not to know, especially if he wanted to gain Batman’s trust.
When Batman made no move to vanish into the darkness again, Clark closed the last few yards between them, coming to a stationary hover a handful of feet away.
“Hello!” he chirped, feeling dull since he hadn’t rehearsed a better greeting than this. A reporter at a loss for words. Embarrassing. “Batman, I presume? I’m-”
“You presume correctly,” Batman interrupted in a deep growl. It would have been more intimidating had Clark not heard the man comforting a little girl with that same voice just a day ago. “Now leave.”
The curt response wasn’t exactly surprising, based on his observations and the rumors surrounding the Bat, but Clark had hoped he wouldn’t get shut down so quickly.
“I actually wanted to get to know you, perhaps strike up a partnership-”
“No. Stay out of Gotham, Superman. This city isn’t the place for someone like you.”
He reached toward his belt, and Clark watched curiously, wondering if he was going to take out a weapon, but instead he extended his grappling gun, and swung neatly away.
“Huh,” Clark said to himself. With his speed, it wouldn’t be any work at all to easily overtake Batman, but he was reluctant to chase and incite any real anger. This was about as pleasant as Batman ever got, if witness reports were to be believed, so it would be prudent to quit while he was ahead. Then again, Superman was never really known for being particularly sensible.
Perhaps he could just listen in from afar...
“Stop spying on me and go home. Don’t show your face here again,” crackled Batman’s voice from a distance, as if reading his mind.
Well, now Clark really had no choice but to come back.