Darkest Knight

*Xavier Institute, April 3, 2008*

When Alison woke up, the first thing she noted was that she had a *killer* headache.

'*Oh, God,*' she mentally lamented, **why can't it be** Saturday' *instead of Friday?*' This was the *second* headache like this she'd had; the *first* had been a few weeks before the X-Men had found her, just prior to the first emergence of her powers. *This* headache, however, was different. The first had been an all-over throbbing in her skull; this one was concentrated around her *ears*, as every single sound – from the tiniest drop of water to Remy and Rogue flirting as they headed to breakfast – was amplified a *thousandfold*.

Just then, she put her hands to her head, suppressing a scream as the ever-familiar sonic boom echoed overhead, as Clark got home from his patrol.

Alison frowned to herself as she got out of bed, putting her blue robe on over her PJ's. Clark had been forced to go to "work" early, last night...right in the middle of their date. Normally, Alison would have taken that in stride, but Clark hadn't returned; he'd simply called her and apologized, saying that he would be out late, that there were other emergencies he had to take care of.

Alison felt a little guilty for being somewhat annoyed; she *loved* Clark, but no girl could keep from being ticked that her beau had to break a date for work reasons, no matter *how* important his job was. Sighing piteously to herself, Alison got up, and headed out of her room, wincing as the sound of her own footsteps made her skull *ache*.

When she got to the kitchen, everyone else was already there, except Clark. "Where's Clark?" Alison inquired.

"He's up in his room." Jubilee reported. "He mentioned having to get to work early, as his boss had an important assignment for him."

"Thanks." Alison said, as she headed upstairs, to talk to her boyfriend.

As Jubilee had said, Alison found Clark in his room, in his regular work clothes, looking every bit the clumsy country-boy. Clark smiled as he saw her. "Hey, Ali."

Alison smiled weakly. "Clark...when you come back here...do you *have* to be so *loud?*"

Clark blinked. "I'm...no louder than I normally am..."

Alison smiled. "So, JJ *does* know that slavery is outlawed by the Geneva Convention, right?"

Clark smiled.

"If he does, he sure fooled *me!*" He laughed. Then, he sighed. "Ali...it looks like this assignment might be a two-day thing..."

Alison froze. "But...we'd made plans, tonight..."

"I know." Clark said regretfully. "I'm so sorry, baby."

Alison frowned, her normal patience eroded by her massive headache. "Clark, I *thought* tonight was going to be a make-up date for *last* night."

"That's what I'd hoped," Clark said, "but JJ *literally* sprung this on me at the *last* minute."

"Can't you ask for a day off?"

Clark smiled sadly.

"If I did, JJ would probably give me the rest of the *year* off." He said. "Interns like us are pretty much the lowest rung on the ladder – though Peter would probably argue that it's *photographers* who have *that* dubious honor. If I asked for a day off, he might decide that it's no sweat off his back to free up some office space." He smiled. "I'll make this up to you..."

"Just like you were going to make it up to me *tonight*, right?" Alison snapped, surprised by her own irritation. "*God*, once you zoom off to save the day, it's like I pop right out of your *head!*"

Clark's eyes widened in surprise, and then narrowed crossly. "That isn't true." He said firmly. "I think about you *all* the time, Alison."

"Then why do I feel like I only know *half* of you?!" Alison yelled. "I know Clark Kent, but beyond that, I know nothing! You never tell me what you *feel* as Superman; you don't talk about what scares you, or makes you angry, or *anything!* *God*, the minute you put on that cape, it's like some part of you just shuts me *out!*"

Clark's eyes widened, and then he frowned.

"I'm sorry, Alison." He said softly, "but I can't talk to you about this, right now." He put on his jacket, and picked up his knapsack. "I'll see you, tomorrow, night." With that, he headed out of his room.

Alison stood there for a few minutes in shocked silence, as her brain started to register *exactly* what she'd said. '*What is WRONG with me?!*' she thought. '*How could I have SAID that to him?!*'

Quickly, Alison darted downstairs, hoping to catch Clark before he left...but to no avail; by the time Alison got downstairs, she saw the bus pass by the Institute from the living room window.

Alison visibly wilted; she couldn't just call him on her cell phone and apologize – that would be *unbearably* lame. She was going to have to wait until Saturday night...

...which was just enough time for Clark to get *really* steamed, possibly enough to...

Alison felt her eyes start to sting. **Oh,** no'*...what have I **done**?!*'

Just then, Jean walked in, and saw Alison.

"Ali?" She asked. "Are you okay?"

Alison shook her head.

"I screwed up, Jean." She sniffed. "Oh, *God*, I screwed up *so* bad." She lowered her eyes. "Clarkie and I had a fight."

Jean's cherry eyebrows shot up. "Oh, no..."

Alison nodded. "*I* started it." She sniffed. "He told me that he had a two-day assignment, and...*and I just **yelled** at him!*"

Jean looked sympathetic. "I'm sure he understands how frustrated you were..."

"*God*, Jean, the things I *said* to him!" Alison cried. "What's *wrong* with me?!"

"You two *love* each other." Jean said. "When two people care so deeply about each other, emotions are *bound* to run high, at times."

Alison lowered her head.

"After what I said, Clark's gonna *dump* me..." She whimpered.

Jean lightly chuckled. "*Now* you're just being *silly*." she teased.

Alison lightly smiled.

"So." She asked, "how are things with Taryn and Paul?"

Jean frowned.

"Strained." she replied. Alison nodded; after the Sadie Hawkins incident, Jean and Scott's two best human friends had been understandably freaked by those creatures nearly tearing them to shreds.

"They were nearly *killed* because of us." Jean said.

Alison nodded. "So, what are you going to do?"

Jean took a deep breath.

"It took Scott and I a while." She said, "But we convinced the Professor to let us bring Paul and Taryn up here...and tell them the *whole* story."

Alison's eyes widened. "*Whoa.*"

Jean nodded. "The Professor said that if they prove trustworthy with our secret, we can show them everything; if not...he'll have to wipe their memories of the Institute."

"Heavy." Alison said.

Jean nodded, and then smiled. "Not only that, Kurt kinda took the opportunity to ask the Professor if Amanda could visit." she added. "Since she knew about Kurt beforehand, he agreed to let her visit."

Alison couldn't help but smile; after learning about them being mutants, Amanda had been cool with their secret, if a bit curious. "Hopefully, Taryn and Paul will be the same after you tell them." she said. She chuckled. "But for the record, if Taryn asks, Clark's *mine!*" Her expression saddened. "At least, for *now*, anyway."

Jean smiled. "Actually, we were going to keep Clark's identity a secret until the very *end* of their visit, to make sure they were cool with everything." she said. "Since Clark's gone until tomorrow night, it works out *great* to have them visit, tomorrow!"

Alison nodded. "So...you think Clark and I will be okay?"

"I *know* so." Jean said. "He *loves* you, Ali; more than *anything*." She smiled. "I don't think anyone's ever told you this, but in Clark's first year as Superman, the stress was starting to get to him a bit. Clark *never* admitted it, but we all could see it; his steps were a bit weary, and his eyes were grave – he never so much as shrugged from all he does, but it was starting to get to him." Her smile grew. "But after you came to the Institute – and *especially* after you two started dating – all that just *vanished*. His steps stopped being weary. His eyes weren't so tired. And he *smiled* more." She looked at Alison. "And you *actually* think he wants to *dump* you?"

Alison paused. "He...never mentioned any of that to me..."

Jean smiled wistfully.

"In *that* sense, Scott and Clark are *exactly* alike." She said. "They *both* assume that their problems are their own business and no-one else's burden, forgetting that they have friends and loved ones that *want* to help them."

Alison smiled.

"*Exactly!*" She exclaimed. "That's *exactly* what I said; I told him that he never tells me about what he feels or worries about as Superman, that he keeps part of himself back from me."

"That's kind of how Clark was in the *first* year he came to the Institute." Jean said. "He never talked much about how his job made him feel."

Alison giggled. "I guess we both have the same taste in guys."

Jean smiled.

"I guess we do."She agreed. "I *know* you and Clark will be okay, Ali." she added.

Alison smiled wistfully.

"I hope so, Jean." She replied. With that, she headed to the kitchen, to get some breakfast, to calm her stressed nerves.

*Daily Bugle, New York*

"*KENT! PARKER!*"

Peter Parker groaned inwardly as his boss' infamous bellow shook the office, before taking his last sip of coffee and heading towards JJ's office. Just then, he spotted Clark getting off the elevator, heading towards Mr. Jameson's office.

"Hey, Smallville!" Peter called, grinning. "You heard JJ's bellow from the elevator, didn't ya?"

Clark chuckled.

"Oh, yeah." He replied. With that, they both headed in, to greet their boss.

Mr. Jameson looked up at them as they walked in, before glaring at Clark. "You're late, Kent."

Clark smiled sheepishly.

"Sorry about that, sir." He said. "That commute's *murder!*"

"Don't let it happen again." JJ said. "I need you both to head out to interview the CEO of Wayne Enterprises, Bruce Wayne."

Peter's eyes widened. "Uh...sir?" He asked. "Doesn't he live in...Gotham City?"

"Congratulations, Parker; you just passed your geography lesson." JJ replied. "We've scheduled the interview for tomorrow afternoon at Wayne's place, Wayne Manor; you two are taking the bus."

Peter blinked. "Not that I mind the commute, boss, but I have school..."

"I called your principal, Parker; he's cleared you for a day off." JJ said. "And I'm sure that little girlfriend of yours can pick up whatever homework a boy-genius like you has to do over the weekend."

Peter suppressed a groan. "Terrific, sir."

"The bus leaves in an hour. And while you're there, Parker, *try* and get some pictures of this 'Batman' lunatic that's supposed to be running around." JJ said, before turning back to his paperwork. He looked back to them. "What are you two waiting for? A pat on the back? Get moving!" With that, both Clark and Peter headed out of their boss' office.

Peter groaned.

"Just great." He muttered. "MJ and I had plans for tonight."

Clark nodded sadly. "Yeah, I...kinda had plans, too."

Peter sighed. "I'll meet you at the bus stop, Clark; I gotta pick up a few things from home."

"No problem, Pete. See you there." Clark said. Peter then headed out of the building, darting into an alley, and changed into his Spider-Man costume, stuffing his street clothes into his knapsack, before tossing it over his shoulder and firing a web-line, zooming straight up.

It only took a few minutes of web-slinging to get home, and another few to change back into his street clothes before heading into his home. As he'd expected, the bulk of his time was spent getting his stuff together, as Aunt May *had* to fuss over him "going so far away from home."

He'd opted not to tell her he was going to Gotham City; Aunt May was worried enough as it was.

Once his knapsack was packed, Peter had *just* enough time to web-sling to the bus station, meeting Clark there *just* as the shuttle to Gotham pulled up. Clark chuckled. "Right on time."

Peter half-grinned. "Yeah; just in time to catch the bus to one of the most crime-infested cities on the *planet*."

Clark nodded. "It *is* getting better, though."

"Yeah; thanks to that 'Batman' guy." Peter said. "Do you think we might actually *see* him?"

Clark shrugged.

"Who knows?" He asked. With that, they both got on the bus.

They both sat in the same row, with Peter taking the window seat. After stashing his knapsack, Peter noticed that his partner looked a little glum, rather than his usual chipper self. "Anything wrong, Clark?"

"Huh? Oh, nothing, really." Clark replied. "It's just...this morning, my girlfriend and I had a fight."

Peter winced. "*Ouch*."

"Yeah." Clark agreed. "Last night, I had to cancel one of our dates."

"Your other job." Peter hazarded. Clark had once mentioned that he had a second job, though he hadn't mentioned the specifics.

Clark nodded. "She was okay about it at the time, but...this morning, she was a little upset."

"Yeah; girls can be tricky for us poor schmucks to figure out. I feel your pain." Peter replied. In the past, he'd once had to break up with Mary-Jane because he'd feared for her safety due to his being Spider-Man. Thankfully, they'd long since reconciled.

He didn't know what he would have done without her. He *certainly* wouldn't wish that kind of fate upon his pal.

Clark lightly smiled. "Thanks."

"No problem, Smallville." Peter quipped. Just then, the bus' engine roared to life. "Well, here we go." Peter said. He simply looked out the window, watching the scenery begin to blur.

'*I bet Reed Richards or Superman never have days like this.*'

*The Narrows, Gotham City*

It was mid-day in Gotham City, but shadows still cloaked much of the seaside sector known only as the Narrows; the semi-industrial sector seemed to exude its *own* darkness...

...making it the *perfect* hiding spot for all sorts of criminals, ranging from petty larcenists, to meth dealers, to gang-bangers and the rest.

Atop one rooftop, hiding in the shadows, three thieves huddled in a darkened corner, looking over their haul. Their leader grinned. "Hey, we got a good load, this time!"

The second nodded. "Things are *finally* lookin' up!"

The third looked worried. "Boss...you *still* shouldn't have pulled the gun on that kid."

The leader sneered. "Are you *still* whining about that? It's not like I pulled the trigger!"

"It's just...you *shouldn't* have."

The second laughed. "*Why*, 'cause the Bat don't like it?" he scoffed.

"*Don't laugh!*" the third cried. "I heard about a couple guys – including Diamond Bert – got tagged by the Bat over by the seaport! *They didn't even **see** him!* He just snuck right up on them, without even a *sound!* Two of Bert's guys went down before Bert even knew what was goin' on; all of a sudden, bad shit started happenin' – spooks his guys right out of their guns – and then...*He* came!"

The leader laughed. "Are you *hearin'* yourself, man?" he scoffed. "The Bat ain't real! He's just some ghost-story the cops probably made up! I think we're all a little too old to be scared of bogey-men like the Batman..."

"*DON'T SAY HIS NAME!*" the third thief screamed. "Oh, God...oh, God...you said his name! You're not supposed to say that, man! If you say his name, he'll hear it and he'll know *and he'll come..!*"

Suddenly, a loud crash cut the air, making all three thieves jump. "*HE'S HERE! HE'S HERE!*" The third screamed.

"Oh, for the love of...shut *up*, Mikey!" The leader snapped, drawing his firearm. "But we'd better check that out, guys." At that, the other two drew their weapons, following their leader towards the source of that noise.

As they approached, the third made a muffled yelp. "*Can* it, Mikey." the leader snapped. "*God*, you can be such a freakin' crybaby..." Just then, they came to a tipped-over trash-can. "Aw, now, you *see*, Mikey?" the leader said. "You were getting upset over...nothing?"

Mikey was gone.

"M-Mikey?" The second stammered. "C-Cut it out, man, that ain't funny..."

Suddenly, several overhead lights spontaneously shattered, causing the remaining two thieves to drop their weapons. The leader happened to spy something fall away from one of the shattered lights, and he went to pick it up. As he picked it up, his blood ran *cold*. The metal was really some kind of throwing-star...

...*shaped like a bat.*

Looking up, the leader saw that his *other* co-worker had vanished; he was completely alone. Trembling with fear, he started to back away...

He *froze* as he heard a sound; it was soft, like rustling...

...*or wings flapping.*

He didn't dare move, too scared to even *breathe*...but he felt his fear *double* as a massive shadow loomed over him from behind...

Slowly, he turned around...and nearly *wet* himself.

He was *tall*, looming *well* over his head level, and *built*, his entire body one deadly weapon, his wings folded around his body like a cape. His head was like some horrifying cross between a man and a bat's; all blue-black, with two bat-ear-like spikes on the top of his head, with a human chin, like an afterthought...

...and a pair of the most terrifying eyes ever *thought* of; pure white, lidless, *soulless*, and they were *staring right into his soul!*

He was *here*. He was *real*.

*The Batman!*

The lead thief felt his eyes start to water in sheer terror as he stared back at the Batman, starting to sniffle as those horrible eyes narrowed in vengeful *fury*. "*I'm...I'm sorry...*" he whimpered.

The Batman's elemental glare didn't waver. "*Not yet, you're not.*" came the reply, his voice like ground glass on sandpaper. Then, he moved too fast to see, his black-gloved fist shooting out from under his cape, and then...

...oblivion.

When the thief came to, he had a *killer* headache...and then he *screamed*, as he realized that he was *hanging upside-down over the rooftop edge!*

Looking around, the thief cringed as he saw the Batman dangling him over the edge by some kind of grappling cable. "*W-What do you want?!*" he wailed.

"*There's a weapons shipment coming through here.*" the Batman snarled. "*One of your pals was supposed to be working it; who's bringing it in?!*"

"I...I *can't*..." the thief whimpered, "...he'll *kill* me...he's *horrible*..."

The Batman's eyes narrowed. "*I'm **here**; he **isn't**!*" He roared. "*And I'm WORSE!*"

"I...I *can't*..."

The Batman snarled in fury...and let go of the cable...causing the thief to start plummeting towards the street at breakneck speeds...

"*AAAAHHHH! I'll talk! I'LL TALK!*"

The thief's descent stopped *millimeters* from the pavement, as the Batman reeled him back in. "*It's the Kingpin! It's Fisk, himself!*"

"*WHERE?!*"

"East Gotham Harbor; 11 o'clock, tonight!" The thief wailed.

"*What else?!*"

"*That's **all**!*" the thief bawled. "I can't remember any more!"

The Batman's demonic glare bored into his skull. "*Losing. My. Patience.*"

"But that's *it*, I *swear!*" the thief cried...and then he paused. "Wait...there *was* something else! Something that Fisk wanted to be *careful* with!"

"*What was it?!*"

"I don't know!" The thief cried. "I never found out what it was! All I ever heard was that Fisk couldn't risk it mixing with something that he was bringing in *tomorrow* night!"

"*WHERE?!*"

"*I don't know! I swear to God!*"

At that, the Batman simply tossed the thief onto the rooftop, pulling off the cable from around his ankles. The thief was relieved...

...until the Batman's fist shot out again, knocking him back into that sweet black oblivion.

After knocking out that thief, Batman promptly cuffed him, before putting him with his two fellow criminals, leaving them in an alley, where the police were sure to find them, before taking out his grapnel-launcher, fitted with a Batarang at the tip, and fired. The blue-edged, black metal, bat-shaped boomerang whirred through the air, before catching on a rooftop, automatically starting the retractor mechanism, pulling Batman towards it, his black scalloped cape flaring like bat's wings as he glided towards the rooftop, landing soundlessly on it, pondering what he'd heard.

Wilson Fisk. The Kingpin. Coming to Gotham.

Suddenly, a high-pitched electronic whir cut the silence. "*Red Bird calling Black Knight. Situation taken care of. Over.*"

The Dark Knight promptly took out the black, hand-held electronic device, with the flashing image of a black bat on its screen, identical to the crest on his grey uniform chest, beneath his cape. It was the Bat-Wave, the highly advanced alert system/operating system/communications system that he'd developed in the earlier years of his Mission. "Report, Robin."

"*The heist-in-progress on Main Street has been taken care of; all four crooks are cuffed and waiting for the boys in blue.*" came the report of his sidekick, Robin. "*I got the first three, but BG managed to get the last one as he tried to escape.*"

BG; Batgirl, the 15-year-old Barbara Gordon, the daughter of Batman's ally, Police Commissioner James Gordon. He was still reluctant about letting her occasionally assist in the Mission, as he hadn't trained her, himself, and thus couldn't guarantee her safety...

...but he couldn't completely argue with results.

"Return to the Cave." Batman instructed. "I'll meet you there."

"*Got it. Red Bird signing off.*"

Putting away the Bat-Wave transmitter, Batman reached for his yellow utility belt, and tapped a button on one of the yellow cylinders ribbing the belt; instantly, it began to send out a signal...summoning the sleek, jet-black, high-tech Batmobile; this was his second version of the Batmobile, as the first had been wrecked after an incident with a high-speed villain known as Gearhead. As the canopy glided open, Batman leapt down from the rooftop, landing in the driver's seat, buckling up as the canopy slid shut. He then gunned the engine, and the Batmobile roared to life, taking off at impressive speeds. After zooming across the Gotham streets, the Batmobile suddenly turned into an alley, heading straight for what looked like a dead end...which opened up, revealing a tunnel, as the Batmobile soared into it, the secret panel automatically closing behind it.

The Batmobile raced through the curving underground tunnel, before emerging in a vast, underground cavern, with a circular vehicle hangar near the bottom. The Batmobile came to a stop in the hangar, as Batman opened the canopy, leaping out. He then took hold of one of the long, metal poles that ran from the bottom of the cave to the very top. Instantly, the pole activated, taking him straight up.

This was the Batcave, the secret headquarters and training ground of the Dark Knight, hidden deep below Wayne Manor.

Batman leapt from the pole as it reached the third level of the Cave, landing before the high-tech supercomputer that monitored the entire city. As he walked towards the computer, he spotted an older man, in his early fifties, yet still of athletic frame, with grey hair on the sides of his otherwise bald head, sharp green eyes, and a slim moustache, clad in a dapper butler's uniform. "A successful outing, tonight, I trust, Master Bruce?"

Batman lightly smiled, before pulling back his cowl, revealing the handsome face of 25-year-old Bruce Wayne, as he turned to his family's butler, and the man who'd raised him after the deaths of his parents, Alfred Pennyworth; his short hair was jet-black, with piercing, cobalt-blue eyes. "It was certainly informative, Alfred." he replied.

Alfred smiled. "And what of Master Richard?"

Just then, a mechanized roar cut the silence of the Cave, disturbing the bats overhead, as a sleek, high-tech motorcycle – the "R-Cycle" as Robin had named it – pulled up next to the Batmobile, as Robin, the Dark Squire, hopped off. Robin's hair was short, black, and spiky, with a simple, black eye mask over his face, clad in a kevlar-reinforced, yellow, short-sleeved red shirt, with a stylized yellow 'R' on the left side of the shirt, just above his heart, with a black cape with a yellow underside, and green gloves, tight green pants, and black steel-toed boots, with a yellow utility belt around his waist. Robin simply walked over to the pole, and took it up to the computer-level, landing a few feet away from Bruce, before removing the mask, revealing the sky-blue eyes of 16-year-old Richard Grayson, Bruce's adopted son.

Richard grinned. "Hey, Al." he greeted, and Alfred smiling, nodding his head. "So, Bruce, any lead on that case, tonight."

Bruce nodded gravely. "Wilson Fisk."

"*Whoa!*" Richard exclaimed. "*That* Wilson Fisk? The *Kingpin?*"

Bruce nodded. "He has a shipment coming through, tonight, at East Gotham Harbor."

Richard grinned. "So, we're *finally* getting a shot at the *big* fish."

Bruce nodded in agreement; so far in the Mission, all he'd ever faced was crime-lords and psychopaths who limited their illegal activities to *Gotham*...

...but the *Kingpin's* operation was *global*; he was a malignant *tumor* that had spread to all corners of the world...including Gotham. Taking him out would be no small task...but it had to be done, if the people of Gotham were *ever* to walk safely upon the city streets, again.

Bruce closed his eyes, remembering why he had begun his Mission; his beloved parents, gunned down in the streets right before his very eyes. Ever since then, he'd endlessly studied the criminal element, trained tirelessly, and taken the image of the creature that had once haunted his childhood nightmares, all for the sake of this quest to ensure that what happened to him *never* happened to anyone else *again*.

*Ever*.

"Sir?" Alfred's voice shook him out of his silent recollection. "The importance of this particular 'bust' aside, you *do* recall that your stockholders' meeting is in a few hours?"

Bruce nodded. "I'd better get going." he agreed. "Dick, keep working on this case; I'll be back after this meeting." Richard nodded, as Bruce headed for the elevator, taking it up to Wayne Manor, to get ready for his *public* life.

*Bayville High*

As the final bell rang, signaling the end of classes for the day, Jean took a deep breath as she walked to Taryn's locker, hoping that her friend understood what Jean had planned to tell her.

"Hey." Jean greeted.

Taryn turned to her, lightly smiling.

"Hey." She replied.

"So...how are things?" Jean asked. **Oh, God, could that have** been' *any lamer?*'

"Okay, I guess." Taryn said. "I can't believe it's been a week since...the incident."

Jean nodded. "Are you...okay?"

"I guess, considering I almost *died*." Taryn murmured. She lightly smiled. "But I think Alison's boyfriend – Kal – saved Paul and I." Her smile grew. "Ali's got a *real* keeper; I hope she *never* lets him go."

Jean smiled. **Oh, Taryn, you have no** idea'*.*' she thought.

"Jean?" Taryn asked. "That night, when those...things came...I thought I saw...I don't know...you, Scott and the other Institute kids...*fighting* those things." She took a deep breath. "Look, you're my best friend, Jean, and I've *tried* to keep myself from asking about what you guys do at that place – *especially* this past week – but..."

"That's why I wanted to talk to you." Jean said quickly. "After what happened, last week...Scott and I managed to convince Professor Xavier to let you, Paul, and Kurt's girlfriend, Amanda come to the Institute, and see...what it is we do." She lowered her gaze. "If...you wanted to."

Taryn nodded, smiling. "Thanks."

Jean smiled.

"How about tomorrow afternoon?" She suggested.

"That works." Taryn agreed. Suddenly, Taryn's cell-phone rang, and she promptly answered it. "Hello?" Her tone turned excited. "*When?!*" she squealed. "*Oh my God, you're kidding!*" There was another pause. "Okay! 'Bye!"

Jean looked confused. "What was all that about?"

"There was a Superman sighting, last night!" Taryn squealed. "There was an avalanche near a ski resort over in the Alps, and it almost trapped a family inside a gondola heading up the mountain, but there was a miraculous hurricane-force wind that just blew the snow back! Seconds later, down at the resort, a little boy caught sight of a 'big, blue angel with red wings' flying away from the mountain! He *has* to exist! There's no doubt about it!"

A scoff cut the air as Duncan walked by with a few of his football pals. "Are you *still* going on about that?" he sneered. "*If* that freak exists, then why doesn't he show his face? As far as *I'm* concerned, he should just go back to wherever the hell it was he *came* from!"

Taryn frowned. "Why, Duncan? Are you jealous of how he does more good in one *minute* than *you've* ever done in your whole locker-stuffing, wedgie-giving, no-good bullying high-school *life?* Or are you jealous of how he can just flick you aside like a *bug*, making all your macho intimidating *useless?*" At that, Duncan just scowled, and went on, his cronies going with him.

"*God*," Taryn muttered, "I just *wish* that Superman would show himself, just so Duncan and his loser friends would *eat* their words!"

Jean lightly smiled. "I guess that kind of stuff doesn't matter to Superman." she said. "After all the good he's done, and all the villains he's faced, the jealous rants of some redneck, jock bully don't mean anything to him."

Taryn laughed. "*God*, Jean, it sounds like you actually *know* him!"

Jean laughed. "Oh, just making an educated guess!" she said.

Thankfully, Taryn didn't press the issue. "Well, I'll see you, tomorrow." she said. "Later!" With that, she headed off.

As she headed out of the school, Jean smiled as she saw Scott waiting for her. "Hey." she greeted her boyfriend, smiling as she gave him a quick kiss. "Taryn's on board; how about Paul?"

"He'll come." Scott answered.

Jean sighed. "To be honest, Scott...I'm a little scared."

Scott simply held her hand.

"Me, too." He agreed. "They've been our best friends since we *came* here, and now we might lose them."

Jean nodded...and then she smiled. "And how hard was it for you to *admit* that fear, Scott Summers?" she teased.

Scott grinned. "Pulling teeth would've been easier."

"*God*, you and Kal are *so* much alike!" Jean laughed.

"Thanks!" Scott laughed. Grinning, he pulled Jean into a loving embrace. "You *do* know that if you weren't here to help me, I'd probably self-combust, right?"

Jean smiled.

"Scott...I've known that ever since I *met* you." She cooed.

"Just checking." Scott said, before he snared her lips in a loving kiss. Jean sighed happily, eagerly reciprocating, the tender moment only sweetened by their mental link. After a few wonderful seconds, their kiss ended, as they both got in Scott's car, to wait for the rest of their friends.

As the glow from Scott's kiss wore off, Jean couldn't help but sigh sadly, remembering Clark and Ali's argument; she hoped that her two dear friends worked things out, soon.

As she walked out of her last class, Alison sighed to herself sadly, before heading to her locker, to gather her things for the weekend.

She'd wanted to call Clark during lunch – after trading barbs with LeRoux – but she'd just been too chicken, she thought glumly. No matter what her friends told her, she still couldn't help but feel like she was going to be handed a ticket to Dumpsville the *minute* Clark got back.

Still, the more she reflected on her and Clark's little blow-up, the more she realized that some of her feelings were justified. She knew next to *nothing* about the realities of Clark's 'job;' he *never* talked about his life as Superman – to *anyone*...

...not even *her*.

"Hey, Ali!" Amanda greeted, as she walked up to her.

Alison lightly smiled.

"Hey, Amanda." She replied.

Amanda looked confused. "Why so glum?"

Alison sighed. "This morning...Kal and I had a fight."

Amanda gasped.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so *sorry*..." She murmured. "But...the two of you didn't...break up, right?"

Alison lowered her eyes. "*God*, I *hope* not." She whispered. "Regardless of our little tiff, I *love* him; I've *adored* Kal ever since I was a little girl, before I was even old enough to understand what a boy *was!* I...I just *can't* lose him...not for *this*..."

Amanda smiled.

"You won't." She said. "I may not know him very well, but from how he looked at you at the dance, he's *just* as crazy about *you* as you are about *him!*"

Alison smiled. "Thanks."

Amanda lightly smiled, and then whispered, "But...does that mean that Kal goes to the Institute, too? Is he...like you and the others?"

Alison suppressed a giggle. "Sort of."

"What's he do?" Amanda asked.

Alison smiled.

"Amanda, you wouldn't believe me even if I *told* you." She said. "You have to *see* him to believe him."

Just then, Kurt walked up to them. "Hey, Alison." he greeted. He then smiled at Amanda. "Hi, *liebchen*."

Amanda smiled happily, her face lightly coloring.

"You know, I'm *never* going to get tired of you calling me that." She cooed, sweetly kissing Kurt's cheek as his arm looped around her waist. "So, all set for the movies, tonight?"

Kurt grinned, nodding. "Vant to grab an ice cream?"

Amanda smiled. "*Sure!*" she exclaimed. Turning to Alison, she added, "See you later, Ali!"

Alison nodded. "See you later!" she replied. Then, Kurt and Amanda headed off, leaving Alison with her thoughts.

Amanda had reassured her somewhat, but Alison was still worried about her argument with Clark. She needed some advice, preferably from someone who *knew* Clark...

Alison mentally smacked herself.

'*Of **course**! How dumb **am** I?*' She thought. After gathering her things, she headed out to the back of the school. After making sure she was alone, she generated a hard-light hover-board, sat down cross-legged on it, and flew straight up, well out of both sight and earshot, before taking out her cell-phone, and dialing the number...

"*Hello? Kent residence, Martha speaking.*"

Alison lightly smiled. "Hi, Mrs. Kent."

"*Why, **hello**, Alison! How are you, dear?*"

"I'm okay." Alison answered. "It's just that...Clarkie and I had a fight."

"*Oh, no...*"

"Yeah." Alison said. "Part of it came from how I had a *massive* headache, and I was *seriously* cranky, but I think a good part of it was a legitimate reason."

Martha sighed. "*What's that son of mine done, now, honey?*" She chuckled.

Alison lightly frowned.

"It's more of what he *didn't* do." she said. "It's just that every time he goes to 'work,' I feel like I'm left on the back-burner, like he never shares what goes through his head in his 'job.'" She sighed. "Mrs. Kent, I *love* him so much, and I want to share in *every* part of his life; I just feel like he's keeping me out!"

Martha chuckled. "*Oh, sweetheart, I **completely'*** **understand.*" she said. "*When it came to his...origins, Clark was always very reluctant to share things; from what I could gather, he always felt that his past was** his **burden and his alone. It sounds like he feels the same way about his 'work.'*" She sighed. "*Normally, when he kept things back to the point of him stressing out about it, I'd be sure to give him a proverbial 'kick in the pants!**"

Alison giggled. "That is *exactly* what he needs, sometimes, Mrs. Kent!"

Martha laughed. "*I know, sweetie; that's a mother's **job**!*" she said. "*But, when the mother is unavailable, **that** task falls to the **girlfriend**!*"

Alison sighed sadly. "I *want* to talk to him, Mrs. Kent, but he's out of town, right now; he's on an assignment." She replied. "Not only that, but I just chicken out every time I try to go to call him!"

"*Hmm...maybe I should talk to that boy.*" Martha said. "*But don't worry, sweetheart; you two will be back together faster than you can say 'Bob's your uncle'!*"

Alison lightly smiled. "Um...nobody says that anymore, Mrs. Kent."

Martha chuckled. "*That's one of the perks to getting old, dear; you don't have to worry about keeping up-to-date!*" she said. "*I hope you have a nice day! Good-bye!*"

"Bye, Mrs. Kent!" Alison replied, as she ended the call, before snapping her phone shut and descending to earth, dissipating her light-board. Making sure no-one had seen her, Alison headed to meet up with her friends, to head back to the Institute.

She *really* missed Clark.

*Gotham City*

'***Boy**, do I miss Ali.*' Clark thought miserably as the bus dropped him and Peter off at their motel. The sun had already set over Gotham, making the city seem even *more* dark and forbidding that it normally seemed.

"Nice place that JJ got us." Peter commented, gesturing to the run-down 'Happiness Hotel.' "It's so nice to know that, even when we're on assignment, we can count on our boss to pull out all the stops for us."

Clark chuckled. "Well, we'd better check in." he said. With that, they both headed to the main office. After checking in, they were shown to their room.

Their room was a fairly small, shabby room, with no TV, and two beds that folded into two closets in the wall behind them. "Cozy." Peter quipped.

Clark nodded. "Thankfully, we're only here for *one* night."

Peter set his luggage down, and sat down on one of the beds. "Oh, *brother*...*one* night on this thing is probably about all I can *take*." he muttered. With that, he flopped back down onto the bed...

...and a distinct *sproing!* sound cut the silence.

"*AAAAAAAHHHHHHH!*" Peter yelped, as the bed promptly flipped itself back into the closet, taking Peter with it.

"*Pete!* Pete, are you okay?!" Clark exclaimed, rushing to the closet.

"*The **really** sad part.*" Peter groaned, "*is that this is actually **more** comfortable than lying on that bed.*"

Clark suppressed a chuckle, as he grabbed the underside of the bed, pulling it back down to the floor. "You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." Peter said. "Listen, I'm just going to step out for a while, okay? I just need to clear out the cobwebs from that bus-ride."

"Okay, but be careful." Clark cautioned. "This is a pretty dangerous place."

Peter grinned. "Hey, it's *me!*" he quipped. "I'll see you soon, Clark."

"Okay. Later." Clark replied, as Peter headed outside. Alone, Clark sat down on the edge of his bed, taking care not to trip the sensitive springs.

He felt *awful* about having to leave Ali like that, this morning. He *also* felt lousy because she was partly right. He *didn't* tell her much about his worries as Superman...because it was *his* burden to shoulder. Every single day, he could *hear* every person on the Earth; he could hear their laughter, their joys, their hopes...

...and their sadness, their tears, and their *despair*. He heard every shot from every gun; every family crying because their son joined a gang; every orphan crying for his family; every single person crying out for *someone* to *help them*...

Sometimes, it was all he could do just to keep from *screaming*. He wanted so *much* to help them *all*, to be there every time someone needed help...

...but he couldn't. Things slipped by him. Whenever he managed to catch an airplane, or patch up a sinking ship...some poor child on the streets got shot in a gang-war, or someone got hit by a drunk driver.

It felt like too much, sometimes; who was *he* to do this? '*I'm not a god.*' he thought. '*Who am I to decide who lives and who dies? Who am I to decide to help one person and miss another?*'

*How* could he put that on Alison? Alison made everything worthwhile; she was his reason to come back, and to keep going...

...and he'd hurt her.

Not intentionally, true, but *still*...

Suddenly, he heard the tell-tale beep of his belt-communicator under his clothes. Taking it out, Clark snapped it open. "Hello?"

"*Clark?*"

Clark was surprised at who it was.

"Ma?" He asked.

"*Hi, honey!*" His Ma replied. "*I heard you and Alison had a little tiff.*"

Clark sighed.

"Yeah." He agreed. "She said that I was...keeping her out of my life as Superman."

"***Were** you?*"

"Maybe." Clark admitted. "But...*how* can I share that with her, Ma? How can I ask her to take on this burden? Every single day, I hear a world crying out for help...and I just *can't save everyone!*"

"*You're not **supposed** to!*" His Ma chided gently. "*You're not God, honey; you're not supposed to be able to fix every single problem in this world! That's too much for one man; it's unfair of you to even **try** to do that!*" He heard her smile gently. "*Everything happens in its own time, sweetheart; even a Superman can't change the world on his own.*"

Clark lightly smiled. "Okay."

"*And as for sharing this with Alison.*" His Ma continued, "*just remember that wedding vows say, 'for better, or for worse,' honey. Things weren't all rosy **all** the time with your father and I! Couples fight, and they make up; Alison is a tough girl, honey, and she **loves** you; give her **some** credit!*"

Clark smiled, nodding. "You're right, Ma." he agreed. "I'll...definitely try to share with her, more."

"*I know you will, honey.*" His Ma said. "*Take care, Clark. I love you.*"

"I love you, too, Ma." Clark said. "Bye!" With that, he ended the call. After a few seconds of thought, he decided to call Alison...

...when his hearing picked up an emergency. '*Uh-oh.*' he thought. '*I'll have to wait to call Ali; this can't wait.*' With that, he quickly removed his street clothes, now clad in his uniform before opening the window and flying off at top speeds.

*Batcave*

After his meeting, Bruce had returned to the Cave, and sat down at the Bat-computer, poring over several files from another case; recently, there had been a rash of thefts, all seemingly unrelated. Someone had stolen a massive plastic tube, an industrial boiler, and several suits used for handling dangerous chemicals. Bruce had nearly been at his wits' end...

...until the last piece of the puzzle fell into place; just today, someone had broken into a chemical plant, and stolen a large supply of hydrochloric-alpha-teracen.

'*And only **one'*** **man would need that much.*' Bruce thought, his eyes narrowing.*** *But he'd need more than that...*'

"What's up, boss?" Dick asked, as he entered the Cave, in his uniform.

"Just catching a preview." Bruce said.

Dick looked to the screen, as he put on his mask. "Looks like *someone's* going to be trying his comedy act, again."

Just then, the Bat-Wave alert went off on the computer screen; there was a robbery-in-progress at the First Gotham Bank. "Let's go." Bruce said, his voice dropping into the low, soul-chilling growl of the Batman, as he donned his uniform. He put on the suit, clipped the belt around his waist, pulled on his gloves, and slid the cowl down over his face.

Bruce, for now, was gone; only Batman existed.

Just then, Alfred came out of the elevator, his grey eyebrow arched. "Off tonight, sir?" He inquired. "I assume you wish me to explain things to Miss Vreeland?"

"Just tell Ronnie that something came up, again." Batman said, hoping that Bruce's on-again-off-again girlfriend, Veronica Vreeland, the heiress to the Vreeland fortune, would understand. "I already *have* a date." With that, he leapt down into the waiting Batmobile, and Robin promptly followed. The canopy closed behind them, the chassis of the Batmobile becoming outlined in dark blue as the XP Power-Core pulsed to life. Seconds later, the engine roared, and the Batmobile raced out of the Cave.

Alfred sighed. '*Once more, I must explain things to poor Miss Veronica.*' he thought. '*The burden of children, I suppose.*'

'*Man, web-swinging around Gotham sure isn't like swinging around New York.*' Spider-Man thought, as he fired another web-line, swinging across the dark Gotham skies.

It had taken him a little while to get his bearings, and he'd already stopped a few hold-ups in the area; Gotham's reputation was certainly deserved. He was half-expecting a vengeful figure in black to swoop out of the sky and tell him to get the *heck* out of his city, if that 'Batman' was anything like Daredevil.

Suddenly, Spider-Man heard an all-too-familiar sound on the streets, below; the sound of a bank alarm. '*Well, here we go, again.*' he thought, as he swung down towards the street. As he approached the street, he heard a familiar sonic boom shake the air in another direction, heading towards him. '*Well...whaddya know...*'

After the alarm had gone off, the black van peeled away from the bank, as the six criminals inside it breathed a relieved sigh. "We did it!" one exclaimed. "We got the cash and got out before the Bat caught on!"

"Don't relax, yet." The leader said, "'cause we gotta get clear of Gotham before we can be *sure* the Bat ain't following us..."

Suddenly, *something* splatted across the windshield, looking like spider's web, as a massive gust of wind picked up from nowhere, blowing the van off-course, causing it to crash into an empty alley.

All six crooks piled out of the car, their firearms drawn, their bags of loot held tightly. "Aw, man..." the smallest one whimpered, "...I don't like this...what if the Bat got *help?!* I-I *heard* that there were *other* things that worked with him!"

"*Shut* it, Freddie!" the leader snapped. "We just gotta stay cool, is all! We stay cool, and we'll get outta here – *HOLY!*"

The leader's reassurance was cut off, as he slipped on..."*Ice?!*" one crook cried, looking down at the sheet of ice that coated the ground. "W-Where'd *that* come from?! It's too *warm* for ice!"

Another crook started to back up...right into a *huge* spider-web. "*AAAAHHHH!*" He wailed. "*It's the Bat! The Bat's got me!*"

"Oh, for cryin' out *loud!*" the leader yelled, as he walked over to free his comrade. "It's just a bunch of..."

But he got no further, for as he passed by one particularly dark part of the alley...*something* yanked him right off the street, without so much as a sound.

Screaming in fear, the other five criminals opened fire, filling that space with lead...and hit nothing but air; whatever it had been, it wasn't there, now.

Turning back to their trapped pal, the criminals found that the web was gone...along with their pal. "*Oh, God...oh, God...*" The smallest one whimpered. "*He's here...oh, God, he's HERE!*"

"Freddie, for the love of..!" one criminal snapped, but he was cut off as a cable shot out from the dark, wrapping around him and pulling him into the shadows with a scream...and then silence. Before anyone could even *blink*, another shadow darted towards a second crook, knocking him off his feet, sending him sprawling, before dragging him, screaming, into the darkness.

The last two thieves had seen enough. Dropping their weapons and their loot, they ran for their lives. They had only gotten a few feet away when some kind of line shot down, and stuck to the back of one crook's jacket, as it reeled him straight up, screaming. Seconds later, *something* zoomed down at the last one, grabbing him and taking him straight up. The crook screamed in horror, and passed out.

On the rooftop overlooking the alley, Batman looked down at the three criminals he and his proteges had apprehended, his eyes narrowing as he pondered who could have gotten the others.

To his side, Robin turned to Batgirl.

"Thanks for the assist, Babs." He quipped. "I see your throw is getting better."

Batgirl stuck her tongue out at the Dark Squire. She was a few inches shorter than Robin, and of slender frame, her mid-length ruby hair sticking out through a slit in the back of her cowl, which was a dark purple-black, similar in style to Batman's. Her uniform was light violet, with dark violet leggings, and light purple gloves, with a dark-purple scalloped cape, with a yellow belt around her waist. "Maybe it would be even *better*," she quipped, "if your boss would just give me a few *lessons!*"

Robin chuckled. "Well, good luck with that." he said. "It took me *months* just to get him to let me go on patrols."

Batgirl paused. "But...who got those last three chumps?" She asked. "*I* didn't, and I don't think *you* did, and, *sure*, Batman's like *lightning*, but..."

"I know who." Batman muttered, his eyes narrowing as he spotted something on a rooftop in the distance.

To be honest, he wasn't *entirely* surprised; after seeing some of the things he'd encountered in the past two years of his Mission, *he* wasn't that big of a surprise. And he'd once reasoned that it was only a matter of time before he sought to do good in Gotham.

*But this was **his** city.* Having another here would complicate things.

Pulling out his grapnel-launcher, Batman took aim, and fired the grappling cable, before shooting across the night sky.

Good intentions aside, he had to nip this in the bud.

After grabbing the last crook and depositing him with the other two that Spider-Man had nabbed, Superman touched down on a nearby rooftop, as Spider-Man landed next to him. "Hey, Big Blue! Fancy meeting you here!" Spidey quipped.

Superman chuckled. "Just enjoying the scenery." he replied. "What about you?"

"Huh? Oh. Right." Spider-Man said. "I'm just...following up on a lead. That, and I hear the hot dogs around here are to *die* for!"

Superman chuckled. "Okay."

"So, I hope that Batman doesn't mind us dropping by." Spider-Man said. "I think he was working the same case we just were. If he's ticked, I hope we don't run into him, anytime soon."

Superman nodded...and then his eyes widened, as he saw the shadow behind his partner; he'd barely made a *sound* – even *his* ears had barely been able to detect him. "In *that* case, don't look behind you."

Naturally, Spider-Man turned around. "*HOLY!*" He yelped. "Uh...come here often?"

Batman's expression didn't change, keeping its neutral semi-glare.

"Hello Batman." Superman said calmly.

No response.

'*Okay...*' Superman thought. "I hope you didn't mind us helping with that bust, back there."

*Nothing*.

"To be honest, we weren't entirely sure you were real, until now." Superman continued. "A lot of people think you're a myth."

"I could say the same about *you*."

Superman lightly chuckled. "Point taken."

Batman's eyes narrowed. "I hope you're listening, because I'm only saying this *once*." He growled. "I already *have* more 'help' than I *want*. Do us both a favor: keep to your *own* 'turf'...*and stay out of my city.*"

And with that, he moved back into the shadows, darting out of sight behind a maintenance shed.

"Wait!" Superman called, chasing after him. "We were just trying to..." but he stopped in mid-sentence...as he found no-one there.

Batman was gone.

"Whoa..." Spider-Man murmured, "..that guy makes *Daredevil* look nice, and not even *he* can just disappear like that." He shuddered. "*That* is *creepy*."

"You get used to it."

Looking up, Superman spotted the two costumed youths standing on the maintenance shed; one was a dark-haired 16-year-old guy in a red-and-green costume, with a dark cape and a black face-mask, and the other was a 15-year-old girl, in a costume similar to Batman's.

The two youths hopped down. "Don't let the big Bat spook you." the guy said, grinning. "I'm Robin, and this is Batgirl." He chuckled. "You guys don't need to bother with introductions."

Superman smiled.

"I suppose the 'S' *is* a dead giveaway." He agreed.

Spider-Man chuckled. "And who else but *me* wears red-and-blue pajamas with webs on 'em?"

Batgirl chuckled.

"It's nice to meet you guys." She said. "And like Short-Pants here said, don't let Batman scare you off; he didn't approve of *Robin* the first few weeks, so I've heard, and he *still* doesn't want *me* around!" She chuckled. "I suppose I've grown on him."

Robin smiled slyly. "So does *cancer*." He quipped, prompting Batgirl to playfully elbow him.

Superman smiled. "We'll keep that in mind."

Robin smiled, nodding. "See you around!" With that, he and Batgirl fired their grapnel-launchers, and swung into the night.

Spider-Man chuckled. "You know, I was half-expecting the redhead to go into 'girly-gush' mode, for a second." he joked.

Superman shot him a disapproving glare. "I guess living here can desensitize *anyone*." he said. "Anyway, I need to get going."

"Yeah, me too." Spider-Man agreed. "Catch you on the flip side, Big Blue!"

Superman chuckled. "You too, Little Red." he replied, and he flew off, as Spider-Man shot out a web-line, swinging off.

After returning to his room and donning his regular clothes, tucking his uniform away in his knapsack, Clark simply sat down on his bed, and started reading. Seconds later, Peter walked in.

"Head clear?" Clark inquired.

"Yeah; got in some light exercise." Peter said, as he stripped down to his t-shirt and boxers, before getting into bed, switching off his bed-side light. "'Night, Smallville."

Clark put his book aside, before removing all but his white t-shirt and boxers, making sure to keep his inducer on. "'Night, Pete." he replied, getting into his own bed, and switching off his light.

*Sproing!*

"*AAAAAAHHHHHH!*" both Clark and Peter yelled, as their beds both spontaneously flipped into the wall-closets, trapping them both there.

"*Hey, Pete?*" Clark called, his voice muffled through the closet.

"*Yeah?*"

"*You were right. This **is** more comfortable than just lying on that bed.*"

*International waters, several hours earlier*

A few hundred miles off the U.S. coast, a single cargo ship sailed through the foggy seas, bound for Gotham City. Spotted throughout the ship were numerous armed guards, making sure that no-one got in the way of the shipment getting there.

Not on the Kingpin's dollar.

In the cargo hold, one guard walked by one crate...and paused, turning back, as he thought he'd heard something.

*Music*.

Walking closer, he realized that it *was* music coming from the crate. By then, *more* guards were hearing it; it had started slow, and was going faster, and *faster*...

Finally, the guards couldn't take any more; one guard grabbed a crowbar and pried the crate open...revealing a large, red-and-purple box inside, with a turn-crank...*that was turning on its own...*

Suddenly, the box popped open, revealing the head of a huge clown; it was a jack-in-the-box. "*Man*," one guard muttered, "Fisk's tastes are gettin' weirder and weirder..."

Seconds later, the clown's mouth opened wide...and released a huge cloud of green gas, completely filling the cargo hold, and seeping into the air ducts. In seconds, the entire ship was contaminated.

One guard managed to get outside, coughing repeatedly from the gas, dropping to his knees...

...and he started to laugh. And laugh. And *laugh*. He wanted to stop laughing, but he *couldn't*. Seconds later, he felt his face start to widen in an unnatural grin...

...and seconds before he blacked out, he heard another boat pull up alongside theirs, heard someone board them...and then he heard a sound that he would *never* forget.

"*HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA! HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!*"

*East Gotham Harbor, April 4, 2008*

By the time the cargo ship sailed into East Gotham Harbor in the morning light, the Gotham City Police Department had already cordoned off the area. "This is the Gotham City Police!" one officer called to the ship through a bull-horn. "Come out with your hands up!"

There was no response.

The officer nodded to the SWAT Team. "Move in."

At once, the SWAT officers moved in, heading up the ramp, heading into the ship, expecting resistance...but found none.

All the crew were lying on the ground, all with unnatural grins across their faces.

When the SWAT Team reported in, the officer turned to the Commissioner. "Sir, the entire crew's out; they all have big smiles on their faces."

Commissioner James Gordon automatically scowled.

"*Joker.*" He muttered. "Everyone, I want that ship and this entire area swept! Top to bottom! If Joker is here, I want him found!"

"Yes, sir!" the officer said, as he went to coordinate the sweep.

James sighed to himself. '*I'm too old for this.*' He thought. James was in his late forties, fairly tall, and of athletic frame, though not as athletic as he'd been when he'd been in the Marines. His short, light red hair was mildly streaked with grey, with blue eyes framed by glasses, and a thick red mustache, clad in his beige overcoat over his white shirt and brown slacks, his badge pinned to his coat, his service revolver buckled to his belt.

Glancing to the ship, James happened to spot a shadow at the stern...seconds before it darted out of sight. When the sweep was done, and the ship declared clean, James headed up the ramp, and walked to the stern of the ship, making sure no-one saw him. "Joker." he simply said.

"I know." Batman said from the shadows. "Besides his trademark, I glanced at the ship's cargo manifest; an entire tank of beta-hydroxy-quinoline is missing. A few days ago, a supply of hydrochloric-alpha-teracen went missing."

James nodded. "I remember." he agreed. "Two of the three components for his gas. But he still needs..."

"...2,5,7-tri-nitrophenol." Batman said. "I have reason to believe that someone is shipping some in, tonight."

James blinked. "Joker didn't bring it in, himself?"

"No. The Kingpin is."

James' eyes widened. "I didn't think Joker was *that* crazy." he said. "And those last two alone can make DX-13 nerve gas...it figures that Fisk would keep them separate. Any idea where?"

"Not yet." Batman said. "I'm still working on it."

Just then, James briefly turned to listen to a report from another officer, before turning back. "Well, good...luck?"

Batman was gone.

James chuckled to himself. '*Godspeed, my friend.*' he thought, before heading to a different part of the boat.

It was mid-afternoon when Amanda arrived outside the gates of the Xavier Institute. She took a deep breath, and switched on the intercom. "Hello..?"

"*Yeah?*" came the reply; it sounded like an older guy.

"Um...t-this is Amanda Sefton." Amanda replied nervously.

"*Huh? Oh, yeah; Elf's girlfriend.*" the guy answered. "*Come on in.*"

At that, the gates swung open, allowing Amanda inside. Slowly, Amanda walked across the vast front garden of the Institute, briefly looking at the garden. '*Wow...*' she thought. **I bet my Grandma would** love' *to talk to whoever does the flowers, here!*'

By then, she had reached the front doors of the Institute, and politely knocked on the doors, before heading inside. Once she was inside, she looked around. "Hello..?" she called.

'*Hello, Miss Sefton.*'

Amanda froze, looking around for the owner of the voice...that had seemed to *echo in her head.* "W-Who said that?"

Just then, an older man in a wheelchair rolled into view, smiling pleasantly. "I am Professor Charles Xavier." he said. "We've been expecting you; Kurt has told us so much about you."

Amanda couldn't help but blush. "Really?"

"*Liebchen!*"

Amanda automatically smiled as she saw Kurt, in his utterly *adorable* fuzzy-blue true form.

"Hi, baby!" Amanda cooed, as Kurt darted to her side, embracing her. "You've been talking about me?"

"You kiddin'?" came a gruff voice, as a burly-looking man walked into view, lightly chuckling. "We can't get the Elf to shut up about ya."

Kurt frowned. "Herr Logan..."

But Amanda silenced Kurt with a loving kiss.

"You are the sweetest guy *alive*, Kurt Wagner." She cooed. At that, Kurt grinned goofily.

Just then, Scott and Jean walked in. "Hey, Amanda." Jean greeted.

"Hey." Amanda replied. "So, aren't Paul and Taryn coming?"

Professor Xavier smiled. "They just arrived."

Amanda blinked in confusion. "How did you know..?"

At that moment, Paul and Taryn opened the door, walking in, just as Kurt switched on his image-inducer. "Hey, guys." Paul greeted.

"So...what's going on?" Taryn asked.

"That will soon be made clear to all of you." The Professor said. "Please, come with me." With that, he started to roll away, and they all followed him.

The Professor led them to his office, where he sat at his desk, with Paul, Taryn, and Amanda sitting across from him, with Scott, Jean, and Kurt standing off to the side. "I agreed to my students inviting the three of you here," the Professor began, "because it may be time for more people to know of our secret." He smiled. "I also know that the three of you are trustworthy."

"Don't take this the wrong way," Paul said, "but...how could you know that?"

The Professor smiled. "For starters, Amanda knew Kurt's secret for almost an entire *year*, and did not so much as say a *word* about it." he said. "As for you two...I will discuss that shortly."

He took a deep breath. "I assume that you are all familiar with the theory of evolution." he began. "That theory dictates that all organisms – including humanity – began from simpler organisms, and progressed to the forms of life we know, today."

"Uh, yeah." Taryn said. "But...what does that have to do with anything?"

"Evolution is a *constant* process." the Professor continued. "It is progressing, even to this day. The point, Miss Fujioka, is that evolution *always* begins with mutation."

Amanda slowly nodded – Kurt had mentioned that to her, before – but Paul and Taryn were frozen.

"Professor." Paul murmured, "what exactly are you saying?"

The Professor closed his eyes. "In the human genome." He said, "There is a relatively rare genetic mutation – which we call the 'X-Gene' – that imparts special abilities to those who possess it. Each X-Gene is different, and thus, each X-Gene-positive individual has their own unique abilities." He looked to them. "That is the purpose of this Institute; to teach those with the X-Gene to use their gifts for the benefit of *all* humanity. We of the Institute, *all* of us – with the exception of one – possess the X-Gene."

"In short, we are mutants."

"That is how I knew you were trustworthy." The Professor finished. He closed his eyes. '*I am a telepath.*'

"*Holy!*" Paul yelped.

"*Whoa!*" Amanda cried.

"*Oh, my God!*" Taryn cried. "*I just...I just heard you, but your lips didn't move!*"

'*Do not be alarmed.*' came the Professor's powerful mental voice. '*Before you all entered here, I did a brief mental scan of each of you; enough to determine that all three of you were trustworthy. I am sure that you can understand how important secrecy is for us.*'

Slowly, Paul looked to Scott, his eyes wide. "Scott..?"

Scott grimaced, pointing to his shades.

"Optic blasts." He said softly. "I can't control them, so I have to wear these shades pretty much all the time."

Jean's expression turned grave, as she pointed to the cup of tea on the desk. "And I'm telekinetic." she explained. "I can move things with my thoughts." She raised her hand, and the cup briefly raised itself, before setting back down, causing Taryn to gasp. "I'm also a telepath..."

"But...but that means...you can go into people's heads!" Taryn cried.

Jean looked stricken. "I would *never*..!"

But Taryn wouldn't listen to any more; she got up, and ran from the room. Jean's expression saddened, as she went after her friend.

Scott glanced to his friend. "So..."

Paul lightly smiled. "'An eye condition,' huh?"

Scott smiled nervously. "Well...*technically*, it's true." he said. "Look..."

Paul held up his hand.

"Scott." He said, "Ever since I've known you, you've freaked out every time your glasses got knocked off. You weren't worried about your eyes getting hurt; you were worried about everyone *else* getting hurt." He smiled. "*That* speaks *volumes*, bro."

Scott smiled, feeling his eyes start to sting; sometimes, he was *glad* he wore shades. "Thanks, man."

Amanda looked worried. "I hope Jean and Taryn work things out." she said.

The Professor smiled knowingly. "Don't worry." he said. "I think they'll be fine."

Jean found Taryn sitting on a bench in the front garden, hanging her head low. "Taryn..."

"Jean, how could you not *tell* me about this?!" Taryn cried. "*God*, my best friend in the *world* is some mind-reader that likely knows every single deep, dark secret I've ever *had!*"

Jean looked stricken. "I...understand how that must make you feel..."

"Of *course* you do!" Taryn snapped. "All you have to do is just reach into my head and *look!* How am I *ever* supposed to trust you again?!"

Jean suppressed her tears, and sat down a safe distance from her friend. "Professor Xavier didn't tell you the difference between my telepathy and his." she said. "He has to work at getting *into* people's minds; *I* have to work at keeping thoughts *out*."

Taryn looked up. "What..?"

Jean took a deep breath. "Taryn, think of listening to a radio, with the volume on *max*, and with no off-switch." she added. "*Now*, think of a *world* full of radios like that, and with some of those radio-programs about *you*. If you think of all that...you'll have an idea of what it's like to be a telepath."

Taryn's face went pale. "*Oh my God...*"

"I don't read people's thoughts, Taryn; the Professor has taught me to keep my mind shielded; otherwise, all those thoughts can and *will* drive me insane." Jean said. She chuckled lightly. "If I've *ever* heard one of your thoughts, Taryn, it's *only* because you were *screaming* it at the top of your *brain!*"

Taryn lightly giggled. "I guess that must be a pain."

Jean smiled. "I just...couldn't lie to you, anymore, Taryn." she said softly.

Taryn looked ready to cry. "Aw, Jeannie..." she said, as she hugged her friend. "I'm so sorry I freaked out..."

"Actually, you reacted better than I thought you would." Jean said, chuckling. Smiling, she added, "So, do you want to see the rest of the Institute?"

Taryn smiled. "Sure." she said. "But...the Professor said that *one* person here didn't have that 'X-Gene' thing. Who did he mean?"

Jean laughed. "First things first, Taryn." she replied. "I'll tell you later."

Taryn smiled. "Okay." she said. With that, both friends stood up, and headed back inside.

*Wayne Manor, Gotham City*

It was fairly late in the afternoon when Clark and Peter arrived at the stately Wayne Manor. "Wow." Clark murmured.

"*I'll* say." Peter added. Wayne Manor was built atop a cliff overlooking the Atlantic Ocean, with a vast front yard, spotted with gnarled old trees. "It's nice; kinda lonely-looking, but nice.

Clark and Peter headed up to the Manor's front doors, and Clark rang the doorbell. After a few seconds, the doors opened, and an older, distinguished-looking gentleman walked into view. "Hi, I'm Clark Kent, and this is Peter Parker. We're both from the Daily Bugle, New York." Clark said. "We're here to do the interview with Mr. Wayne."

The man smiled pleasantly. "Ah, yes," he said, in a British accent, "Master Wayne has been expecting you." He paused. "Oh, please excuse me; I am Alfred Pennyworth, Master Wayne's 'gentleman's gentleman,' or, as the more popular saying goes, his butler."

Clark smiled. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Pennyworth."

"The pleasure is mine, I assure you, Mr. Kent." Alfred replied. "Please, do come in." At that, Clark and Peter headed inside.

The interior of the Manor was just as nice as the exterior. "I will inform Master Wayne that you two have arrived." Alfred said. "Please, excuse me." With that, he headed off.

After a few minutes, Alfred returned, with a tall, athletic-looking young man of 25. With short black hair, and cobalt-blue eyes, clad in a casual black suit, with a blue shirt under the jacket.

The younger man smiled. "Bruce Wayne." he greeted.

Clark smiled. "Clark Kent, Daily Bugle."

"Peter Parker, photographer." Peter added.

"Sorry it took me so long to see you both." Bruce said. "I had...business to attend to."

"Oh, Master Bruce." Alfred said, "Master Richard called to tell you that he has just stepped out for a 'joy-ride,' but that he *will* be back for that...event, tonight."

"Sure, Alfred. Thanks." Bruce said. Alfred lightly bowed, and walked off.

Peter smiled. "He's a nice guy."

Bruce smiled. "Oh, yeah, Alfred's the best; he practically *raised* me, ever since my parents passed away."

Clark blinked. "Oh, your parents..?"

"They passed on ages ago." Bruce said quickly. "Anyway, I promised you both an interview, didn't I?" He grinned. "Well, let's get to work!" With that, he headed to another part of the Manor, and Clark and Peter followed.

Bruce led them to what Clark assumed was his office, where he sat at his desk. Over the ensuing hour, Clark asked Bruce numerous questions about his business, Wayne Enterprises, and the numerous charities that Bruce contributed to, most notably the Wayne Foundation, while Peter snapped a few photos, of Bruce and of the Manor. Bruce stated that the Foundation was established for the sake of all the young children on the streets, orphaned by crime, so that no child would have to suffer a life alone.

And during the interview, Clark discerned something; Bruce put on the front of just being a swinging bachelor...but beneath that, he truly *cared*.

He managed to suppress a knowing smile.

After Clark had finished all his questions, he suddenly heard a high-pitched electronic beeping coming from Bruce's pocket; most ears would have missed it.

Luckily, his ears weren't most ears.

Bruce smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, but I'm going to have to cut this short." he said.

"No problem." Clark replied. "We were just about done, anyway."

"Thanks." Bruce said. "Well, see you later!" With that, he headed out of his office.

"Hey, listen, Clark, I'm just going to head back." Peter said.

"Oh, sure." Clark replied. "I'll catch up to you, after a few minutes."

"Sure." Peter said. "Later." With that, he headed out.

Alone, Clark briefly looked around the office, before he headed out, going for the door...

"*Where is he?!*"

Clark paused, as he saw an angry-looking young woman of 22, with long, auburn hair, flashing green eyes, with a curvaceous, elegant frame, clad in a stylish pink track-suit. Clark then saw Alfred hurrying after her. "Miss Vreeland, I can assure you..."

"No more excuses, Alfred!" the young woman – "Miss Vreeland" – snapped. "I want to know where that lowlife 'boyfriend' of mine slunk off to after standing me up, last night! *Again!*" Her furious emerald gaze whipped around to glare at Clark. "Where's Bruce?!"

Clark gulped. "Um...I-I think he went this way." he "babbled," pointing down a corridor. "I'm pretty sure I saw him go down there."

Miss Vreeland's eyes narrowed, as she stormed down the hallway, turning into one room. "There's no-one here!" she shouted.

Confused, Clark hurried after her, and peered into the room; there was nothing there, save a piano, a bookcase, and an old grandfather clock. "Huh?" Clark murmured, genuinely confused. "But...I was sure..."

Miss Vreeland buried her face in her hands, losing much of her fury.

"Why is Bruce *doing* this to me?" She sobbed. She turned a remorseful gaze to Clark. "Oh, I'm so sorry; I practically chewed your head off..."

Clark smiled.

"Don't worry about it, ma'am; with *my* boss, I've handled *much* worse yelling." He said. He extended his hand. "Clark Kent."

The young woman weakly smiled. "Veronica Vreeland." She replied. She sighed. "If this were the *first* time Bruce had run out on me, it wouldn't be so bad..."

Alfred quickly piped up. "If I may speculate, Miss Vreeland, Master Bruce may have had to re-schedule your evening as he had to visit his parents' graves, as he does *every* time, this year."

Veronica gasped. "Oh my *God*...Alfred, you're *right!* Yesterday *was* the anniversary of their murder!"

Clark's eyes widened. "Bruce's parents were *murdered?*"

Veronica nodded.

"When Bruce was eight, his parents were gunned down, right in *front* of him." She said softly. "My poor Brucie..."

Alfred lightly smiled.

"I'm sure Master Bruce is *more* than regretful, Miss Veronica." He said gently. "Now, why don't I make you a nice cup of tea, to calm some frazzled nerves?"

Veronica smiled.

"Thanks, Alfred." She said. "I'd like that." She turned to Clark. "It was nice meeting you." she added. With that, she headed off, followed by Alfred.

Alone, Clark puzzled over Bruce's disappearance. **I** know' *I saw him head this way...wait a minute.*'

He turned to the old grandfather clock, as he saw a little black bat stuck in the clock face. After a few seconds, the bat *somehow* managed to slip *behind* the clock face. Clark's eyes flashed electric-blue, as he looked beyond the clock...and into the cave beneath; he caught sight of high-tech systems...

...and bats. *Lots* of bats.

Clark's eyes widened, as his mind began to piece things together subconsciously; Bruce's height, his voice, his absences, the attention to charities...it all came to one glaring computation.

Clark's expression became remorseful. '*Bruce Wayne, we hardly knew ye.*' he thought.

Just then, his hearing picked up an emergency call over in Europe; he had to go. Quickly, Clark darted out of Wayne Manor, headed around to the back, and discreetly dropped off of the cliff, changing as he fell, stashing his clothes in a crag in the cliffs, before flying off, a sonic-boom echoing behind him.

Deep in the Batcave, Bruce sat in front of the Bat-computer, frowning; that Bat-Wave alert had been a false alarm – the police were calibrating the new alarm system in the First Gotham Bank. Still, it gave him more time to work on his case.

And he needed every second; the Kingpin's shipment was due to come in, tonight, and he had no idea *where*.

Absently, he checked the security feeds from the Manor, to clear his head; he sighed regretfully as he saw Ronnie get angry with Clark. The lovely Vreeland heiress *did* have a temper when provoked, he knew from experience. He *did* care for Ronnie, and he hated doing this to her...

...but the Mission came first.

Then, Bruce's eyes narrowed as he looked at Clark's image. He hadn't seen it, himself, but the computer had caught something...

*There!*

Quickly, Bruce focused in on it; a fractal pattern in Clark's image. '*Holographic technology.*' Bruce thought with a frown. '*Looks like the Boy Scout has something to hide.*' He quickly tapped a few keys, to remove the pattern from Clark's image.

His eyes widened in sheer surprise. He hadn't been expecting *that*. **He was right in my office, right under my** nose'*.*' Bruce berated himself.

"Master Bruce," Alfred said as he walked into the Cave, "I was just speaking with Miss...oh, my." Alfred's eyes momentarily widened as he noticed the considerable difference in Clark's height and frame. "I've heard of people being taller or shorter in real life, but *this* is ridiculous!"

"Apparently, he didn't get the message." Bruce muttered, as he got up, to prepare for his early patrol.

Alfred frowned.

"Sir." He said, "if I may say so, it *is* generally a good idea for one to have allies in *any* endeavor."

His change fully complete, Batman half-glared at Alfred. "I don't need any more 'help,' Alfred."

Alfred looked sad.

"Sir." He said softly, "to do what you do, night after night...that is a terrible burden to bear, alone."

"I'll manage." Batman said, before he leapt into the waiting Batmobile, and raced off.

The sun had mostly set, by the time Superman returned to Gotham City, the crisis in Europe averted. He was heading back to the hotel...

...when he heard the crash.

Superman took off at top speeds, flying as fast as he could...but he knew it was already too late.

He found the old lady lying on the sidewalk, from where the drunk driver had hit her, the street completely empty. Superman quickly descended, gently lifting the old lady into his arms, letting her lie on his lap. "Miss?" he whispered. "Can you hear me?" The old lady simply looked at him, but did not answer, though she tried, a trickle of blood leaking from her mouth.

Superman tried to smile reassuringly, as he tapped his buckle, sending the silent alert to the nearest hospital, to send an ambulance. "You're going to be *fine*." he whispered. The old lady just smiled gently, as if she knew something he did not. Then, she let out one breath, her eyes closing...and then she was still.

"Miss?" Superman whispered. "*Miss?!*" No response.

She was gone.

Superman stayed with her until the ambulance came, retreating to the rooftops as the paramedics took her. Alone, Superman simply put his hand to his forehead. The driver had simply driven off, leaving her there to die...

...and he hadn't been there to save her.

"Still here, I see."

Superman looked into the shadows behind him, finding Batman there. "I thought I told you to leave...*Clark Kent*."

Superman's eyes momentarily widened. '*How did he..?*' He thought, and then his eyes narrowed. "If *you* were in New York, would *you* ignore a cry for help...*Bruce Wayne?*"

*Now* it was *Batman's* turn to go wide-eyed...before his eyes narrowed. "Looks like we have a stalemate."

"I didn't realize we were at war."

"I *don't* need your help."

"I never said you *did*." Superman said. He looked down as the ambulance drove off. "She was likely someone's mother, someone's grandmother..." He whispered, "...*how* can *anyone* not care about that?"

Batman's expression saddened. "Nobody could get to her in time." He whispered.

Superman nodded. "Every time I manage to avert one disaster, I hear another one strike."

"Stopping *one* criminal just distracts me from another." Batman whispered.

Superman smiled sadly. "Sounds like we have the same problem."

Batman didn't answer.

Superman's expression turned grave, as he looked to the Dark Knight. "We may have different ways of doing things, but we *do* have the same *goal*: to make the world a better place." he said. "As much as we can do alone, we can do *more* if we work together." He extended his hand to Batman. "What do you say?"

Batman didn't move.

Superman sighed. '*I gave it my best shot.*' he thought, as he turned to go...

"The Kingpin is sending in a shipment of 2,5,7-tri-nitrophenol through Gotham, tonight."

Superman turned around. "What?"

"He tried sending beta-hydroxy-quinoline in, last night." Batman continued. "It was stolen."

"Someone's going to steal it." Superman said. "Those two chemicals, when mixed, make DX-13 nerve gas!"

"True." Batman agreed, "but when you add hydrochloric-alpha-teracen to the mix, you get something else *entirely*: Joker-gas, a potent airborne agent that induces hysterical laughter, followed by a paralytic 'rictus' state." His tone turned dark. "*Joker*."

"Who?"

"A pure, soulless, old-blooded *psychopath*." Batman said. "No-one knows his real name. Chaos and murder are more than just compulsions for him; he *likes* it. He's a crazed clown who always tries to leave his victims *dying* with laughter...*literally*. And if he gets that shipment, he'll be able to make enough gas to cover the entire *city*."

"We *have* to stop him." Superman said. "Where's the shipment going to be?"

"I don't know." Batman said. "I haven't been able to locate, and all my leads have gone dry."

"Fisk will be keeping in contact with the boat." Superman said. "I can listen in on him and find out where he's meeting it!"

Batman turned to go. "Contact me when you know more."

As the Dark Knight darted out of sight, Superman followed him. "How will I contact...you?"

Batman was gone...but he'd left a small, black electronic device, depicting the flashing image of a bat.

Superman smiled, as he picked it up. "Oh." he said. "Well, I guess I'd better try to find Spidey." With that, he darted into the sky, keeping his eyes – and ears – open.

*South Gotham Harbor*

It was a few hours after sunset when the sleek black limousine pulled into the dock, followed by several black vans, all filled with armed thugs. After the criminals got out, securing the area, Tombstone got out of the limo. "Looks clear, Boss."

Wilson Fisk calmly stepped out of the limo, holding his ornate cane. "It had *better* be." he said coldly. "I will not tolerate another debacle like last night."

Suddenly, a sound echoed from the darkness, and all the armed men aimed their guns towards it...as several small jack-in-the-boxes on wheels rolled towards them. The Kingpin arched an eyebrow quizzically. "Is this someone's idea of a *joke?*" he growled.

"*Ya got **that** right, Fiskie!*"

At that exclamation, the toys all popped open, unleashing clouds of noxious-looking green gas, engulfing over *half* of Fisk's forces; in seconds, all the poisoned men were laughing uncontrollably, as their faces turned up in unnatural smiles, their bodies frozen in place.

"*HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA! HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA !*"

That insane laughter made the remaining thugs flinch, but neither Tombstone nor Fisk were affected. "Whoever you are, you're *dead*." Fisk snarled. "Do you have any *idea* of who you're dealing with?!"

"You don't remember me?" the voice cried. "Oh, Fiskie, I'm *crushed!*" By then, Fisk thought he could see the faint silhouette of someone in the shadows. "Don't you remember? The good old days?"

At that, a single playing card flitted out of the darkness, landing at Fisk's feet. Fisk picked it up; the Jack of Spades. His mind instantly flashed back to his old right-hand man and enforcer...who he'd had dumped into a vat of unstable chemicals for having an affair with his girlfriend, who was now his wife. He forced a smile. "Jack Napier!" he exclaimed. "Why, Jack, is that *you?*"

"You *do* remember!" Jack exclaimed.

Fisk managed to suppress his snarl, keeping his smile. "So, how have you been, old friend?"

"Oh, not too bad...considering *someone* gave me a chemical bath." Jack replied. "But, hey! The past is the past...even though you had me killed over a *woman! A WOMAN, Fisk!*"

Fisk's eyes narrowed. "If you so much as *touch* me, Jack," he snarled, "your life won't be worth *shit!*"

The insane laugh cut the air, again. "'*Jack?*'" Jack replied. "Ain't you heard, Fiskie? Jack's *dead*." With that, he walked into view.

Fisk wasn't easy to startle...but *nothing* could have prepared him for *this*.

It was a twisted, clownish version of his old enforcer, tall, and lean...his short hair now a sickening green, his skin bleached pure white, his eyes a dark, blood-red...and his face twisted in a crazed, perpetual grin. He wore a purple zoot-suit, consisting of a coat and pants, with dark purple shoes, and a light orange shirt under the jacket, with a blue bow-tie, and purple gloves, with a broad-rimmed, flat-top purple hat atop his head, and a clownish cane in his hand, a purple flower pinned to the jacket.

"Jack" just grinned. "The *name*," he said, "is *Joker!*" He cackled insanely. "And as you can tell, I'm a *lot* happier!"

Fisk found his voice. "What...*happened* to you?"

"Oh, like you're surprised!" Joker laughed. "After hiring Stone-Face on after *his* chemical bath, seeing *me* alive and kicking should be par for the course!"

He cackled, as a forklift drove into view, driven by two large men, in jester-outfits, carrying a massive device, knocked together from an industrial boiler and a massive hose. The contraption had two hoses running from it; one labeled "Intake," the other, "Output."

"Ah, I see you've met my two helpers, Punch and Judy!" Joker crowed. "When I heard you were dropping by, Fiskie, I just *had* to throw you a little party!" At that, one henchman, Punch, took the Intake hose and ran up to the chemical vat on the ship, attaching it to the nozzle on the vat, before turning it on.

"Jack..." Fisk warned, "...that can make DX-13! If you unleash that here, you'll kill us *all!*"

"Oh, give me *some* credit, Fiskie! People coughing, convulsing, screaming their lungs out? Where's the fun in *that?* Where's the style, the flair, the *panache?*" Joker said. He grinned. "Add *one* thing to this stuff, and you get DX-13...but add *two* things, and you get Joker-gas!"

Tombstone scowled. "Listen, clown, that's enough to cover the entire city, including *you!*"

"I *know!*" Joker cackled, as his henchmen donned gas-masks. "I've become immune to the wonderful effects of my gas, Stone-Face; sorry to disappoint you!"

"Jack," Fisk began, "I'm sure we can make *some* kind of a deal..." As he spoke, he gestured to one of his thugs, who took aim...

The Joker scowled, and grasped the flower, which shot out a stream of gas, engulfing the shooter, sending him into giggling convulsions. "*Don't* try to be cute, Fisk! I spent *months* setting p this party, so you're gonna enjoy it if it *kills* you!" He grinned. "*Which it might just do, anyway!*" he cackled, erupting in laughter. "Now, as soon as this gizmo finishes mixing the gas, the laughs will *really* start! The whole *city's* invited to join in the laughs!"

Joker grinned evilly at Fisk. "And guess what, 'old pal'? The *first* laugh...is gonna be *yours.*"

At that, Joker's insane laughter filled the air, chilling even the Kingpin's blood.

After Superman had heard Fisk's cell-phone, he promptly alerted Batman via the communicator he now had. He then quickly found Spider-Man, and informed him of the situation.

Within minutes, Superman and Spider-Man touched down on a rooftop overlooking South Gotham Harbor...and Batman, Robin, and Batgirl were already there.

Robin smiled. "Thanks for the intel, Supes."

"It's Joker, alright." Batgirl said.

Superman then caught sight of the crazed clown, as well as his contraption. "*Whoa,*" he heard Spider-Man say, "and here I thought guys like Fisk or Doom were as evil as people got..."

"Joker's an entirely different *breed.*" Batman said. "That device *has* to be neutralized."

"Agreed." Superman said. "If you can surprise Fisk's goons, I can disarm them."

Robin chuckled. "Distraction is our middle name!"

"Spider-Man, you keep Joker off-balance; make *sure* he doesn't set that thing off." Batman instructed. He turned to Superman. "We're going for the *big* fish."

Superman nodded. "Got it."

At that, Batman took out a small device, pressing it; it instantly started to emit regular beeps – Ultra-High Frequency sound. Before Superman could inquire, Batman tossed it with expert precision, as it hit Kingpin's jacket, automatically adhering...

...seconds before a small swarm of bats swooped out of the sky and swarmed around the Kingpin, summoned by the UHF transponder.

As if on cue, Robin and Batgirl threw their Batarangs, knocking out the overhead lights, coating the dock in darkness, further panicking the criminals. At once, Superman shot down to the docks, darting through the remaining thugs, easily snatching away their weapons. By then, Batman, Robin, and Batgirl had descended on the hapless criminals. Batman moved through the crooks like a force of nature; he slammed one thug with a side kick, then whirled the motion into a back-kick to get another. His hand moved like a striking cobra, as he crushed a nerve cluster on one thug's neck, rendering him unconscious.

As he dropped, Robin extended his metal bo-staff, tackling two crooks as he landed, before unleashing a back-spin strike to get another three. As he turned, he saw one thug try to sneak up on him...and then, Batgirl knocked him down with a foot-sweep, knocking him out. "Watch your back, Short-Pants!" she teased.

Robin grinned, and rolled to the side, slamming the crook approaching Batgirl to her left with a side-kick. "Same to you, Red!"

By then, the emergency lights had come on. "*Batsy!*" Joker guffawed, as he moved to the control console on the device. "Now it *is* a party!" He reached for a lever...

...and let out a yell as his face got coated with webbing.

"Hey, I didn't know the circus was in town!" Spider-Man quipped, as he dropped down, looking at the Joker upside-down. "If I'd known, I'd have brought popcorn!"

Snarling, the Joker ripped off the webs. "This is *my* party!" he yelled. "*I* do the streamers around here!" He sent a stream of gas at Spider-Man...who darted away.

"*Sheesh!*" Spider-Man said, as he landed. "I thought *you* would have a better sense of humor, Clowny!"

Joker grinned. "Oh, I'm *hilarious*, Bug-Boy!" he cackled. "Punch? Judy? *Split his sides!*"

'*Oh, boy.*' Spider-Man thought, as the two big clowns advanced on him. He ducked under the first one's swing, before unleashing a flip-kick, knocking him back. As the second one charged, he shot out a web-line, darting straight up, before dropping back down on the clown's shoulders, kicking him in the head. The two burly clowns looked dazed...and then quickly shook off his attacks, coming at him again. **Aw, man...can't super-villains** ever' *have **small** goons?*'

As the last of the Kingpin's thugs fell, Tombstone glared at Batman, before letting out a roar, charging at him, catching him in his arms, starting to crush him. "I've been lookin' to size you up for one of my coffins for a *long* time, Bats!" he snarled.

Batman's eyes narrowed, as he reached up and around Tombstone's arms, grinding his thumbs into Tombstone's eyes. The un-dead man howled in agony, letting Batman go, as the Dark Knight leapt back, stopping next to Superman. As Tombstone recovered, Batman simply said, "Shield your eyes." He then took out a small black sphere, and tossed it at Tombstone, where it erupted in a flash worthy of a magnesium flare, blinding the criminal.

Superman lightly smiled, and tilted his head towards Tombstone; Batman nodded in automatic understanding. Superman lifted Batman up, and spun him in a circle, before tossing him at Tombstone; Batman did a mid-air flip, to strike Tombstone right in the face, heels-first. As Tombstone stumbled back, Batman executed a perfect back-kick to his chest, making him double over...giving Superman the *perfect* opening to slam into him, shoulder-first, sending him flying.

As Spider-Man *finally* managed to finish off Punch and Judy, his spider-sense started buzzing...but he was too late; the Joker, cackling like the madman he was, slammed him with a huge mallet, sending him sprawling. Laughing insanely, he pointed the Output hose towards Gotham, and pulled the lever. "*Smile, Gotham! **Smile**!*"

"Bats! Blue! *Heads up!*" Spider-Man yelled.

Superman and Batman were about to close on the Kingpin when they heard Spider-Man's call. Batman's eyes widened, and then narrowed, as he threw two Batarangs; the blades whirred through the air, the first one pinning Joker to his device, and the second shut off the lever...but not before a large cloud of gas escaped, heading towards Gotham...

"Superman!" Batman shouted. "Joker-gas will *sublimate* if it cools!" Superman understood completely, and unleashed a blast of frost-breath, chilling the gas, causing it to instantly solidify, falling into the Gotham bay.

"*NO!*" Joker wailed. "My precious gas! *Passed!* By a bunch of party-poopers!"

Turning back, Superman and Batman saw that Kingpin and Tombstone had already fled; if they went after them, Joker would escape.

They looked to each other, nodding in mutual understanding; Joker was the greater threat.

The five surrounded the pinned clown. Joker sniffled piteously. "Nobody *ever* gets the joke." he whimpered.

Superman scowled, not buying the act for a minute. "Oh, we *got* the joke, Joker." he said. "It just wasn't *funny*."

Joker sighed. "*Everyone's* a critic, these days!"

The five of them slipped away as the police came, watching from a rooftop as the Joker was taken away. "Well, so much for nabbing the big fish." Robin muttered.

"What goes around comes around." Superman said. "Fisk will get his, soon enough."

Batgirl smiled. "We all make a good team."

Spider-Man chuckled. "Yeah; maybe we oughtta start a bowling league!"

Superman chuckled. "*That* would be interesting."

Batman stayed silent.

"Well," Spider-Man said, "I gotta get going. Catch you guys later!" With that, he swung off.

"We'll just do another patrol." Robin said. Batman nodded, and Robin and Batgirl fired their grapnels, and swung off.

Only Superman and Batman were left, now. "We *do* make a good team." Superman commented.

No answer.

Superman wasn't bothered; Bruce was just being Bruce. "Maybe we could team up for bigger things." he suggested.

Batman was silent for a moment, and then..."You have the Bat-Wave transmitter." he said, walking around a corner. "Take care of yourself, Kent."

Superman followed Batman around the corner...only to find no-one there. He chuckled. "You, too, Bruce." he said. With that, he took to the air, flipping out his belt-communicator, to call Peter and let him know that he was going to take another route home, to go on without him, before heading to the hotel to pick up his gear.

Time to head home.

It was evening by the time the little tour of the Institute finished, and Amanda – along with Taryn and Paul – was amazed. "This is so *cool!*" she exclaimed.

Next to her, Kurt smiled. "I'm glad you're okay vith everything, Mandy."

Taryn smiled. "And I thought *we* had it tough at school!" she exclaimed. "That Danger Room looks *way* worse than Gym class!"

Jean chuckled. "We manage."

Paul laughed. "But, *man*, you guys have that guy Logan as a teacher?"

Scott grinned. "He's not *too* bad, once you get to know him."

Taryn blinked. "But...what about that other guy?"

"What other guy?" Alison asked as she walked up to them.

"The guy that doesn't have an X-Gene." Taryn said.

Alison lightly smiled. "That would be Kal."

"*Kal* lives here?" Taryn asked. "What does he do?"

Suddenly, a sonic boom shook the air overhead, causing the three humans to jump. Scott chuckled.

"Kal's back." He said. "Don't worry; it took *us* a little while to get used to that, too."

"*Whoa*...who *is* this guy?" Paul murmured.

Jean took a deep breath. "Taryn?" she asked. "Do you remember yesterday, when you said it was as if I *knew* Superman?"

Taryn blinked, confused. "Y-Yeah."

"Taryn...you have no *idea* how ironic that was."

All three of them were silent. "W-What?" Amanda stammered.

Alison smiled. "Amanda, let's just say that you're not the *only* girl at Bayville High who has a thing for guys in blue." she said. "Although, in *my* case, it's more of a thing for guys in *red*-and-blue."

"You're *kidding*." Paul said.

"Nope." Scott replied.

Alison sighed. "Listen, I'm just going back to my room, okay?" she said. "Later." With that, she walked off.

"*Jean, you're JOKING!*" Taryn all but squealed. "He's *HERE?! And you KNOW him?!*"

Jean couldn't help but smile. "Want to meet him?" Taryn couldn't speak, as Jean, Scott, and Kurt led the three of them outside.

As they all walked outside, Amanda managed to see the silhouette of someone touching down in the shadows. Then, he slowly walked into view.

Blue suit, red shorts, yellow belt, red boots, red cape, and the stylized 'S' emblazoned on his chest. There was no mistaking him.

"Hey, guys." Superman greeted. Then, he noticed the three of them. "Aw, dang it! I forgot that you were bringing your friends, down, here; I'm sorry, guys..."

"No problem, Kal." Jean said.

Superman smiled pleasantly. "It's nice to meet all of you." he greeted.

Taryn's eyes rolled up in her head, as she fainted dead away, with Paul catching her as she fell back.

Superman blinked. "Was it something I said?"

Amanda managed to smile. "Probably not." she replied, masking her nervousness.

Paul chuckled. "Okay, Scott. Pay up." she quipped.

Scott groaned. "Darn."

Jean arched an eyebrow, half-heartedly frowning. "What's going on?"

"A few months ago, I bet Scott that if Taryn ever *did* meet Superman, she'd faint, while Scott bet that she'd squeal and ask for his autograph." Paul explained.

Scott half-smiled. "Serves me right, I guess."

Paul looked to Superman. "After everything I've seen today, Superman, meeting you just seems to be par for the course."

Superman chuckled. "Fair enough." he replied. To Scott and Jean, he added, "Is Ali still here?"

Jean nodded. "She's up in her room." she replied.

"Thanks." Superman said. "Well, it was nice meeting you all!" With that, he simply headed inside.

Amanda could only blink in amazement. "*Wow.*"

Kurt chuckled. "*Ja*, zat's vat *I* thought, zhe first time I met him."

"So...what's the difference between *him* and the rest of you guys?" Paul inquired.

Scott grinned. "*That*, Paul, is a *long* story." With that, Scott and Jean headed back inside, as the others followed him.

Some time after Taryn had recovered, she and Paul had headed home...after the amazing revelation of Kal's origin. Amanda, however, had chosen to stay a while. Currently, she and Kurt were sitting together on the Institute's roof, looking up at the stars; it had become their favorite pastime.

"It's really amazing," Amanda said, smiling, "that now we *know* that there are other beings in the universe who are probably looking up at the stars, right now, and wondering if there is anyone *else* out there!"

Kurt grinned. "Ve have living *proof!*"

Amanda smiled. "I have the *coolest* boyfriend in the world." she cooed. "You are as cute as *heck*, you're the *sweetest* guy alive, you have special powers that you use for the good of *all* humanity, *and* you're pals with an actual *alien!* Kurt, that is so *cool!*"

Kurt smiled. "*Danke*." he replied.

Amanda looked a bit sad. "I just hope that Kal and Ali work things out."

Kurt smiled. "Zhey vill." he said. "Trust zhe fuzzy dude, *liebchen*; he knows zhese things!"

Amanda smiled, cuddling into her boyfriend's side. "Okay." she cooed. Then, the two simply continued to watch the stars, enjoying each other's company.

In her room, lying on her bed, Alison frowned as she absently chewed on the end of her pencil, pondering her last algebra problem. Then, she smiled to herself. '*Eureka!*' she thought, as she jotted down the solution.

Putting her homework to the side, Alison sighed to herself. **That's** one' *problem taken care of.*' she thought. She was a bit nervous about talking to Clark; she hadn't talked to him since last morning. She was worried...

"Ali?"

Mildly startled, Alison looked up to see Clark – in uniform – standing in her doorway. "Hey." he softly greeted.

Alison lightly smiled. "Hey." she replied. "So...I guess you made an impression on our three guests."

Superman smiled. "They actually took it pretty well." he replied.

Alison took a deep breath. "Clark..." she whispered, "...about yesterday...I'm so..."

"Ali, I am *so sorry.*"

Alison looked up, surprised. "What?"

"You were *right*." Superman said, his expression sad. "I *was* keeping you out of that part of my life." He lowered his gaze. "I've always thought that my being Superman was *my* burden to bear...and I forgot that there were people who cared about me, who could understand what I felt...especially *you*." He looked into her eyes. "Forgive me, *taushi*." he whispered.

Alison paused, digesting his words...and then smiled, before walking to her boyfriend's side, sweetly kissing his cheek. "*I'm* sorry, too." she cooed. "I was *majorly* cranky, yesterday, Clarkie; I had a *serious* headache, and I kinda took it out on *you*." She smiled sadly. "I guess we're *both* morons." She looked into his eyes. "But I *want* to understand your burden, Clark; I want to be in every *part* of your life." She nuzzled into his chest. "Please don't shut me out."

Superman smiled. "Suit up, Ali, and *definitely* bring your winter coat."

Alison blinked. "Why?"

Superman grinned. "We're going out, for a while."

Once Alison had suited up, and donned her coat over her uniform, it had taken only minutes for Superman to fly them both far to the north; she was *glad* she'd brought her coat. After a few minutes, the green of forests was replaced by the white of glacial ice, the air growing heavy with snow, until they were in the middle of a massive blizzard. "Clark?" Alison cried over the wind. "Where are we?"

Superman smiled knowingly. "My old home." he said. He then took out his belt communicator. "Deactivate defense network." he instructed.

Almost instantly, the blizzard dissipated...and Alison's eyes widened. "Is this..?"

Superman nodded. "My Fortress of Solitude."

Alison gazed upon the massive crystalline sanctuary with awed eyes. "It's *beautiful*..."

Superman only smiled, as he touched down in front of the Fortress' massive doors, setting Alison down, before walking to the four crystal orbs in front of the door; his eye-rays shot out, striking the third, first, second, first, fourth, second, and third again, each orb letting out a distinct sound from each hit. Instantly, three holographic discs appeared in front of the door; Superman walked to them, and turned them, aligning them, before pushing them into the door; his family crest appeared in the door, seconds before the crystal of the door turned to blue energy. Superman extended his hand to Dazzler, who took it, as he walked through the energy field, and Dazzler followed.

As they came through, the massive door re-solidified behind them. Dazzler looked about the Fortress in wonder; the walls were all pure white crystal, with flashing light-patterns built into the walls – *quantum circuitry*. "*Wow...*" Dazzler murmured.

"The last trace of Kryptonian civilization." Superman said. "The collected knowledge of Krypton and all the worlds it had contact with is in here."

Dazzler lightly smiled. "Clarkie, this is *amazing*." she said. "But, you didn't bring me here *only* to show it to me, did you?"

Superman smiled at her. "No." he admitted. "Could I see your belt for a moment, Ali?" Confused, Alison unbuckled her belt, handing it to him. "Thanks." Superman said. "I'm going to be a few minutes; in the meantime, feel free to look around. Once I'm done, I'll give you the grand tour."

Alison smiled. "Okay." she cooed. Smiling at her, Superman retreated deeper into the Fortress, letting Alison explore.

After a few minutes, Alison felt like a little girl lost in a massive museum; the Fortress was so incredibly beautiful, so *peaceful*...but it was felt so *lonely*, so apart from the rest of the world.

Alison's expression saddened. '*Was this how Clark felt, once?*' she thought.

Looking around, she saw that she was standing in an incredibly vast chamber, filled with massive crystalline pillars, and a large, central circular platform. '*I wonder what these are for..?*' she thought, as she reached out to touch one...

"These are the Archives."

Superman's voice mildly startled her as she spun to face him. "Sorry." he apologized. "Like I was saying, all of the Fortress' knowledge is stored here." He reached out, and touched a crystal pillar; instantly, it turned to blue energy, with golden circuitry inside, before it retracted away, revealing countless smaller crystals within, each in its own slot.. "This particular Archive holds Krypton's history."

Alison was awed as she looked at all the crystals detailing the history of her lover's world. "*All* of them?" she whispered. Then, she spotted a larger crystal, at the top of the collection. "What about *that* one?"

Superman smiled. "*That* one is different." he said. He simply reached out, and touched it; automatically, the crystal rose up, as four crystalline prongs reached down, grasping it...as a beam of light shone from it, towards the circular platform, where it took shape...the shape of a tall, strongly built man, in black robes, looking *very* much like Clark. Alison was about to ask who he was...but the man spoke for himself.

*"Hello, my son. I am Jor-El, of the planet Krypton...and I am your father. By the time you hear this, I will be long dead; Krypton, our world, is undergoing a chain-reaction in its core – our world is doomed. To save you from our fate, your mother – Lara – and I have sent you to Earth. There, you will have power that no human can match, as your Kryptonian body draws strength from Earth's yellow sun. I have designed this structure, this Fortress of Solitude, to teach you of your heritage, your abilities...and my hopes for you, Kal-El, the Last Son of Krypton."*

*"They can be a great people, Kal-El; they wish to be. They only lack the light to show the way. And for this reason above all others, their capacity for good, I have sent them a light...for I have sent them you, my only son."*

*"Live among them, Kal-El, and find where your great power is most needed. You must never directly interfere in their natural development; that is forbidden by our highest laws. Instead, lead by example, my son; show them that there is a better way, through your actions."*

*"There may be those on Earth who will fear and hate you for what you can do, my son. Do not be disheartened, for no matter what happens...your mother and I love you. Be happy, my beloved son. Farewell."*

The message then ended, the crystal ceasing its projection, returning to its slot. "I saw that message the very first day I came here." Superman said. "It took me the better part of four years to get over my grief and truly *understand* what my father was saying...only to learn that I was still missing something."

He turned to look at Alison. "Ali, every single day, I hear people crying out for help; I hear this entire *world* crying out for *someone* to help them." he said. "I once tried to help them all...but that's just too big a task for *any* one man."

Alison giggled. "Not even a Man of Steel." she cooed.

Superman smiled. "I got a reminder of that fact in Gotham, these past few days." he said. With that, he held her belt out to her...

...with a buckle-communicator identical to his own built into it.

Alison's eyes widened, as she smiled. "Clark..."

"It *also* made me realize how *important* you are to me, *taushi*." Superman added softly. "You make everything I do *worthwhile*; I don't ever want you to feel left out of *any* part of my life." He gestured to her belt. "That communicator is a more advanced version of mine; it can instantly link to the Fortress' computer, and upload schematics of *every* situation I head into in *nanoseconds*." He smiled. "Ali, I want you to be my spotter; my eyes and ears, to keep an eye out for things I might miss." His smile grew. "Your skills with your powers *are* getting better, Ali; for now, you can just be my spotter, but later...who knows?"

Alison smiled radiantly, before she practically *flew* into his arms, kissing him passionately, giggling as her *tausha* returned her kiss. After a few wonderful minutes, their kiss ended. "That's all I wanted, baby." Alison cooed. "*You're* all I wanted."

Superman smiled. "I think I owe you a tour." he said, extending his arm to her. Dazzler smiled, and laced her arm around his, as they headed further into the crystal sanctuary, the former home of Alison's beloved, the man who was sharing *all* of his life with her.

It was midnight in the Gotham Ritz Hotel when Wilson Fisk retired for the night, his guards outside the door. Tonight had been a *wash*.

'*As if Superman wasn't bad enough,*' Fisk thought, as he donned his silk pajamas, before slipping into bed, turning off the lights, '*now I have cowl-wearing lunatics to worry about...*'

Fisk froze as he heard a sound, before he bolted out of bed. "Who's there?!" he roared. He looked around...

...and found an open window, the glass doors bumping against the wall.

Wilson promptly closed the window. He was just jumpy from tonight; he was hearing things...

"*Wilson Fisk.*"

That sandpaper-on-glass voice made Fisk's blood run cold; if he'd had hair, it would have stood on end. He quickly recomposed himself. "Who are you?!"

Out of the corner of his eye, Fisk saw a shadow move. "*You **know** who I am, Fisk.*"

Wilson's face contorted in a snarl. "Do you have any *idea* of who you're dealing with?!"

"*Yes. I do.*"

Pain exploded across Fisk's jaw as an unseen fist slammed him with a punch, taking him by surprise, knocking him back. Roaring, Fisk swung at the shadow...

...but hit nothing.

Bewildered, Wilson whirled around. "*Where are you?!*"

"*In your nightmares.*"

An elbow of iron slammed into Fisk's neck, sending him flying. Fisk lashed out again...and again hit nothing.

He was fighting a *wraith*.

"*I don't want to see your filth in this city ever **again**, Fisk.*"

The shadow punctuated the sentence with a precision strike to Fisk's knee, causing Wilson to howl in agony, seconds before the iron fist bloodied his eye. "You think this will scare me?!" Fisk exploded, swinging blindly. "Not even *Superman* can scare me!"

It was then that Fisk saw the eyes: two narrow, lidless, *soulless* white eyes, staring right at him, right in front of him.

They were *staring into his soul...*

"*Tell me, Fisk,*" the demonic shadow snarled, "*what kind of enemy is more frightening? The kind you can hear coming?*"

The last words were a whisper in his ear.

"*Or the kind you **can't**?*"

Just then, the light flicked on, as Tombstone burst in, followed by two guards. "Boss! Boss, are you okay?"

Wilson looked around; there was no sign of anyone else. The shadow was gone.

As if he'd never even *been* there.

"I'm fine." Fisk said. "Just...a minor mishap."

Tombstone relaxed. "Boss..?"

"We're pulling out of Gotham." Wilson said. "Spread the word."

Tombstone's eyes widened. "But..."

"*You heard me!*" Fisk exploded. At once, Tombstone and the guards nodded, and darted out of Fisk's room.

'*Business in this city has been barely profitable on the **best'*** **of days.*' Fisk thought.*** *I'm cutting my losses. Nothing more.*' He looked down at his hands.

If that was true...then why were his hands shaking?

From the rooftop outside the Gotham Ritz, Batman watched as Fisk gave the order to pull out, before half-smiling to himself.

Sometimes, being free and *feeling* imprisoned worked *just* as well as *real* prison.

As he turned to go, Batman spared one last glance to the horizon, towards New York City, as Superman's words, along with Alfred's, echoed in his mind...

'*Maybe.*' he thought to himself, before he fired his grapnel, swinging into the night.