Chapter Text
When he had decided to fake his death and remain off the grid in Florence, Selina had convinced him to take a break in the City of Metropolis, Bruce Wayne had been hesitant. Not because it wasn’t a good idea. It would take his mind off Gotham, off Gordon, Blake, and Alfred, assisting him with a lot of trauma he’d been through, making them think he was dead. The problem was, as a Gotham boy born and raised, he disliked Metropolis.
He hated going there. He hated staying there. He hated that it was in such close proximity to his city. It was almost mocking with its sprawling modern landscape and its gleaming ivory towers. Bruce could see it all from the helicopter he was taking across the bay. The door was open before the descent began. The warm spring air carried along by the brisk Atlantic breeze. Bruce looked out to those ivory towers with a look of utter shock.
Because those towers were being knocked down by two indestructible aliens from Parts Unknown flying through them.
After what felt like years suspended the copter finally touched down and Bruce all but lept off the skid and ran to the Utility Vehicle waiting for him. It took him a moment to gather himself as he looked up and saw the aliens’ massive weapon tearing into the Upper Crust, sending shockwaves he could feel in his bones. Soon enough he was in the car where he turned on the emergency light system – more for civilian warning than his own convenience – and sped off toward where he knew his building was.
Since nobody knew he was alive, it would be harder to seek help from the people inside the Wayne Enterprises branch. But everyone would be pulverized. He knew there was no stopping the weapon, but he could still get everyone there clear of the gigantic blast. He hoped. He narrowly avoided a chunk of falling rubble and dug out his phone to speed dial his friend.
“Who is this?!”
”Lucius, it’s-it’s me. This is Bruce. I don’t have time to explain, I need you to get these people out of here now! Fox?”
The call had dropped and Bruce cursed loudly as he tossed the phone. The whole city would be out of service, surely. He had to hurry. It would be a straight shot if he kept on this road and with most of the city evacuated it should have taken only a minute. Plans changed as a flaming piece of wreckage collided with the street, forcing him to turn into an alley to avoid the wall of flames coming toward him.
He retrieved his phone and tried calling Lucius
again. The same message as before. No service. He came out onto the main road and accelerated further. In his peripheral he noticed shards of glass and concrete falling like rain. Looking up he saw the cause: a ship similar to the one that crashed a street over, this one massive, was coming down and crashing into every building in its path. Turning right, he righted his course and avoided getting buried until he arrived at the block that his building was on.
There was a mass of people (his employees, most of them) standing awe struck at the fight being carried out above them. They turned when they heard the vehicle idling behind them and made a path when they saw it was Bruce Wayne, of all people, back from the dead. Eventually, he parked the car and climbed out.
The huge drill-like weapon had stopped completely. For an agonizing minute, it did nothing until bits and pieces of the fallen ships and suspended debris began flying towards it. Then, the collider itself began to withdraw into itself; crushed into a sort of singularity. Bruce covered his eyes as the drill disappeared in a flash.
Bruce turned to a woman he recognized as the building’s desk clerk. “Where’s Lucius Fox?”
She looked surprised. “Mr. Wayne? Is…Is it really you? He helped us evacuate but...I didn’t see him, sir.”
Not good. He took out his phone to try him one more time as a giant laser beam exploded inside the skyscraper and bisected it. The line actually rang, but only for a moment as the large building began to crumble and collapse.
“Lucius!” He ran forward as his building turned to dust.
His ears were ringing. May have just been shell shocked but was likely just in a daze as the reality of what just happened set in. Two flying men-no, monsters-just took down half of Metropolis, a city of 11 million, with their bare hands. A horse without its rider wandered past. He could rebuild the tower. But without his friend, it would never be worth it.
“Bruce! Bruce!” He knew that voice. It was coming from his right and he ran to find it. Not much farther and he found one of the building’s employees struggling from underneath a steel girder. His skin was pale even underneath the soot he was covered with, and was slick with cold sweat.
“I can’t feel my legs. I can’t feel my legs!” He was going into shock, so Bruce patted his cheek to grab his attention.
“Look at me, okay? You gotta stay with me.” Bruce turned and shouted for help as he attempted to comfort the man who was still wearing his name tag. “You’ll be okay, just stay awake. Wallace, right? Do they call you Wally?”
“Yeah, Wally Keefe.” The man forced his lips into a grimace of a smile, as if the action itself was that of pure exertion. “Aren’t you supposed to be dead?”
Bruce shook his head at that. “I’m not your boss right now, Wally. Just here to help.”
The help arrived shortly after that. Two men to one side, Bruce to the other, lifted the heavy beam and tossed it to one side. Bruce froze and failed to hide his look of hurt. Wally’s legs had been crushed. Mangled below the knees. It wasn’t pain that made Wally cry. Bruce knew an amputee when he saw one. There would be no saving what was left.
That thought was interrupted by a single creak of metal. Anyone else might have heard it too late, but Bruce’s senses had been honed to near perfection. There was no mistake. He whipped his head around and saw a young girl, no more than seven-years-old, standing terror stricken underneath an archway. He took off, pushing himself harder than he had in days as he dove through the opening, saving the girl from being crushed underneath the falling rubble.
This only made her cry harder, of course, so Bruce began to stroke her hair in an attempt to calm her. Once he got a better look at her, he realized he knew her, too. She was the daughter of another woman he employed. He had met her before, as she often visited Metropolis in the summer.
“Sage, it’s okay. I’ve got ya. Where’s your mom, huh?”
The little girl wiped her face on her sleeve and pointed back towards where he had run from. His face fell as he realized she was pointing to the rubble of what was once a 50-story spire. Where the first responders would surely find her mother and others buried alive in a shallow grave. The girl caught him again in a tight hug and he returned it. Not knowing what else he could do.
There was no worse feeling, Bruce thought, than that of helplessness. It was the perfect word, though, to describe what he felt as he looked up to the sky and saw those two flying freaks tearing each other apart. In a just world, they would both be destroyed by their battle, but he knew there was no such thing as justice. Not in this world. Not in his lifetime. He hated Metropolis, but even this city didn’t deserve such a fate.
Bruce kept looking up, going blind with rage as the one they called Superman continued his warpath – tearing through the lives he could never see.