Chapter Text
Shared pain is lessened, shared joy increased. --Spider Robinson
Batman released his grapple and landed lightly on the ground next to Green Lantern. "What's the situation?" he grated.
Wonder Woman answered him. "There seems to be a life form inside," she said, gesturing at the spiky crystalline structure still smoking from its impact, and indeed, when Batman looked closely at the shimmering--rocket? Meteor?--he could faintly see a figure inside, curled in a fetal position. "It seems General Eiling is prepared for any eventuality," she added darkly, glancing over to the armed soldiers standing nearby.
"Should we try to--" Flash's question went unfinished as the alien object made a sweet chiming noise, almost at the limits of human hearing, and started to unfold its spikes like a tesseract.
Inside was a humanoid male curled up in sleep, dressed in white robes, his dark hair tousled against what looked like a crystal pillow. His eyes were closed, his chest rising and falling slowly.
Hawkgirl made a quiet sound of appreciation and Green Lantern shot her a look. "What?" she said, "A girl can look."
Batman held out a quelling hand. "We don't know what--"
The man's eyes snapped open, and they were full of terror, confusion, and rage.
He cried out something in an alien tongue and started to scramble to his feet, staring around him at the League. "Hey, it's okay," said Flash. "We're not going to hurt you." He put out a hand and the man flinched away, tripping over his robes.
As he fell backwards, he lifted into the air.
His arms and legs flailed for a moment, then suddenly he shot forward at an incredible speed, crashing directly into a nearby building. Debris rained down on screaming people, but the man emerged from the billowing dust completely unscathed, his eyes panicked and wild.
As the League sprang to help the civilians, Batman heard Eiling give the order to fire. "No!" he yelled, but the air filled with the sound of gunfire. Batman looked up to see the man shielding his face reflexively.
The bullets were bouncing off his hands.
He lowered his hands again and yelled something in that same alien tongue, his voice desperate.
"J'onn!" Batman barked into his communicator, "We need you here! Now!" He was moving toward the alien as he spoke, and the man's head snapped around to look at the dark, armored figure running toward him. His eyes went wide, and Bruce had time to notice, incongruously, that they were a pure and beautiful blue.
And then the irises seemed to fill with molten flame, searing into crimson.
For an instant, Bruce looked into the eyes of death.
Then the man recoiled backward in the air, clapping his hands over his face. Red light leaked around the edges like bloody tears, and the man cried something muffled and desolate.
"What is it?" J'onn appeared next to Batman.
"Put him to sleep if you can!" Batman yelled, pointing at the alien, who was still convulsing as if in pain. "And try not to hurt him!"
J'onn shot Batman a reproachful glance as he floated forward in the air, putting his hands on the dark head. The searing red light cut off and the man went limp, drifting in the air with his eyes closed, the battlefield falling silent.
: : :
"You want to be responsible for him?" Green Lantern's frown was dubious about Batman being the best choice to introduce an alien to human society.
"The dude almost killed you," Flash pointed out.
"I'm willing to do it," Batman said, his voice level.
"I think he is a good choice," J'onn spoke up abruptly, and everyone looked at him for a moment. Then Green Lantern shrugged.
"Well, as long as you keep him from destroying any more property, it's no problem with me."
: : :
Kal-El looked up from the medlab bed as Batman entered, putting down the book he was reading. Batman picked it up: a high school astronomy textbook. "I have learned some of your language," said the alien, his voice only slightly oddly inflected. "My memory is very good now. And I can read very fast.” He tapped the cover, where Sol burned brightly. "It seems to be because of your yellow sun." His finger lingered on the star. "Krypton's sun is--was--a red one."
Batman sat down on the edge of the bed next to his. "J'onn told me a little about...why you're here."
Kal didn't look up at him. "It is gone," he said. "My father saw it coming. He didn't tell me he was building a rocket. When the day came, he..." Without looking at Bruce, he made the motion of drinking something and then slumping, closing his eyes.
"He drugged you and put you in the rocket, to save your life."
"My father, my mother. My planet. All are gone," Kal said. "I woke up on a strange world, with strange powers. I am deeply sorry I harmed people. I almost--" He shuddered and touched his downcast eyes briefly. "I could have killed you."
"I knew you wouldn't," said Bruce.
Kal's face was puzzled. "How could you know?"
"I know what anger and rage look like. And I know what grief looks like. I know what it feels like to realize you've lost everything and feel you're alone in the world. Your eyes were not those of a killer."
Kal-El looked at him then. "You know?"
Bruce took a deep breath. He had never told anyone in the League this. "My parents," he started, then stopped. "They were murdered when I was a child, while we walked home together."
Kal exclaimed something in his own tongue, a sound of horror and sympathy. "That is not a thing a child should bear," he said in careful English. His eyes were sad--for Bruce, not for himself, and Bruce was struck by his quick sympathy when his own grief must be so great. "How could you endure?"
Bruce gestured at himself, the cowl and the cape. "I dedicated my life to protecting others, as much as I can."
"Ah," said Kal. "What is your, what is the word? Your powers? J'onn can read minds, and I know of the Green Lanterns. The man in red is very fast. What is yours?"
"I have none," Bruce said. "Just my training and my equipment. I'm lucky to be wealthy, but I'm an ordinary man."
Kal blinked at him silently for nearly a full minute. "You are no ordinary man," he said at last. He looked away from Batman, then looked back, some complicated emotion on his face. "I do not know your customs here, but I feel that this is maybe too much too ask. However...may I see your face?" He shook his head, glancing away again for a moment. "I don't even know your name, but I wish to see the eyes of one who can turn grief into strength."
Bruce pulled off the cowl, ran one hand through sweat-damp hair, and shrugged. "Like I said, just an ordinary man."
A small smile tugged at the corners of Kal's sad mouth, and Bruce found himself wondering what his face would look like happy. "I disagree."
Bruce scowled to keep himself from smiling back. "Most people learn not to disagree with me."
"Will you teach me?"
"Not to disagree with me? Probably," said Bruce, but Kal was shaking his head impatiently.
"Teach me how to be like you."
"An ordinary man?"
"A hero."
Kal's clear, direct gaze made it impossible to keep deflecting him, and Bruce felt a moment's trepidation that was strangely mixed with excitement. This was a man who would never back down from the Bat, a man with a will of iron to match his.
"I suspect you don't need much education there," said Bruce. "But if you can tolerate me as a teacher..." He stuck out his hand, and Kal stared at it dubiously. "Humans often clasp hands to make a promise," Bruce said.
Kal put out his hand, and Bruce put his hand around it and tightened his grip. Kal's hand remained motionless in his.
"You need to squeeze," Bruce said, demonstrating again.
Kal's eyes shot to his and Bruce could see the sudden strain in them. "I don't know--"
"You won't hurt me," Bruce said.
Cautiously, staring intently at their clasped hands, Kal tightened his fingers around Bruces' as if he were holding a priceless crystal, his face white. His clasp was firm but not painful. "See?" said Bruce. "You're not hurting me at all." He added a deliberate smile to drive it home. "I'm fine."
"Yes," said Kal, his eyes searching Bruce's face. "Yes."
"When you're feeling up to it, I'll have you over to my house. I'm sure my boys would love to meet you."
"I feel much better," Kal said. "I would love to meet your family. Your...your spouse as well?"
"Oh," said Bruce. "I'm...not married. I'm available--I mean, I'm single." He realized suddenly the handshake was going on much longer than it should; apparently Kal wasn't sure when the socially acceptable time limit on the greeting was. How to shake hands properly would be one of the first things Bruce would have to teach him.
Soon, he thought. Kal's hand was warm in his, his fingers strong and delicate at once. That smile was almost reaching his eyes. I'll teach him soon.
But maybe not quite yet.