Chronology
Jul. 15th, 2006 03:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shankieWally begins his pursuit of Savitar with a stop in the 27th century, while back in the present, Bruce is caught between moving on and standing still.
(The present time story is the product of ideas that![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
batfan_sarah talked me into, and I realized would be perfect. It's all her fault. ::grin:: Now I hope I did her brainstorm justice. Also, props to sucuri for looking over the genealogy that begins to come into play here.)
Chapter Four: Once & Future
The present, Monday
Alfred stepped quietly through what was now Bart's apartment.. but no. Such thinking had been disallowed in this home, as days turned into weeks, then months.
Three months exactly, if he recalled correctly... and such things are difficult to forget.
Such was the case, as he discovered Bruce standing in the doorway of Wally's bedroom, still left as it had been when he'd taken off after the League signal. Magazines, comic books, and paperwork were in piles on the bed, a few knocked over and never straightened. An unfinished grocery list on the desk, cut off halfway through the word 'carton', the blue plastic pen laying across the pad of paper.
A pair of pants still draped across a chair, a stack of engineering texts on the floor, a box of candy bars tucked halfway under the bed.
He knew these things without having to look, as he had seen it enough to already know.
If this was to be the theme of their relationship, an unending road of separations, it wouldn't be unlike many others that had come and gone through this house, only to ultimately lost. A sobering thought.
"When did Bart say he would be home?" Bruce asked without turning around.
"Before the hour, sir. But I don't need to remind you of his poor grasp of punctuality."
Bart had begun school in Central City, under the observation of Mary West, and despite repeated insistence that he would prefer to live at the manor, he spent precious little time at home. Perhaps it was something that would change, given time, but Alfred couldn't begin to hazard a guess at a still juvenile mind operating faster than comprehension.
"No, you don't have to remind me."
"I would also like to inform you that Mr. Kent has left several more messages requesting to speak with you."
"Thank you, Alfred."
Clearly, he was being politely... dismissed. He paused for a moment, then took his leave with a nod.
* * *
He only left twelve minutes late.
It was such a short time for normal people, so Bart immediately got defensive when he found Bruce waiting for him in his first stop; the kitchen. He just knew that he'd been waiting for him, by the way he was looking at him all intense and wasn't even trying to act casual in any way at all.
"Mr. Wayne I had to help some people on the big road that got stuck..."
"It's fine, Bart. But we need to talk."
"Oh."
He knew it had to be big, when he grabbed some chips and followed him into the study. He tried not to be anxious, but it took so long for him to say anything anymore, and even longer now that Bart was worried.
Bart sat on an overstuffed chair, across from Bruce on the sofa, as he leaned on his knees and looked at him squarely.
"We need to discuss your future, Bart."
The future. He was from the future, but that was distant future, not years-from-now future, a place Bart never thought about that often.
"I..." He frowned and thought hard. "I'll grow up to be a superhero just like Wally, and join the Justice League, and save the world. Right?"
"I meant, more immediate matters."
"Whatever. I just..." Bart rubbed his chin and tried to think of just how to say it. "I don't want anything to change."
Apparently, that answer was enough. Bruce just nodded, then got up and walked out, leaving a slightly perplexed Bart behind.
* * *
The timestream, somewhere in the vicinity of the 28th century
Wally was getting the hang of this. Not that it was made any less unsettling. Entering the timestream from the Speed Force was like being everywhere, then being torn apart and put back together again. Somehow, he managed and was finally able to find the thread Bart was chasing. As if he had to summon it out of a tangled web of countless, endless threads, and just know it was the right one, and to not let go until he found the end. Filtering out the bombardment of events passing around them.
It was hard for him to guess just how far they'd gone when they finally came to a stop.
For a moment, he had to stop and remember who he was and when, then spent a dizzy second disoriented. Bart put a steadying hand on his shoulder until he got his bearings, then looked around at a city that could almost be his Metropolis, at first. Very art deco.
"Whe... when are we?"
"The 27th century."
"I don't suppose they have a place we could make a pit-stop here."
"As a matter of fact..." Bart grinned and began weaving through foot-traffic on the streets, all stylistic, long-robed fashions and architecture that felt like some kind of Classical revival meshed with abstract, simple designs everywhere. "This is one of the time periods where there aren't a lot of superheroes. The few still around are either some kind of immortal or inherited it from family," Bart explained, "which is good, because it's pretty quiet for most of it."
"For someone who's been reminding me not to look too close at everything, you sure know a lot about the future," Wally said. "So where are we going?"
"To see the Flash," he replied, and gestured to his left, where a black streak began running alongside them. "Hey John! To my right is the one and only Wally West. Wally, John Fox."
"No, truth? That's really him?" this Flash said with a grin. Wally got a better look at him as he leaned forward to wave; this Flash had black hair with a streak of white away from his forehead, and truth be told, looked a lot like the Bruce he had just left behind, in a black and blue costume with a white logo on the front. "It's an honour to meet you, really. I've read about you in the archives, my mother never thought it'd happen, a West being the Flash again, but I suppose I've always been trying to follow in your footsteps."
They came to a stop in a little park edged by a gurgling creek; and Wally's curiosity was getting the better of him in a hurry.
"I'm in the history books?"
"Well, if I remember it right..."
He clapped his hands over the wingtips on his head, then lowered them. "Maybe knowing just a little bittle bit won't hurt?"
"Oh, but that'd spoil the surprise," Bart said knowingly.
"Alright, alright, don't tell me." Little imp was holding out on him, he could tell. Well, maybe not so little; definitely older than he was. Which was beyond weird. Wally flopped back on the grass that didn't really smell like grass and sprawled out. "Tell me."
Wally looked up, and Bart & John were exchanging glances.
"I suppose a little couldn't hurt," Bart said with a shrug.
"We should introduce him to my sister," John said with a smirk.
"Your sister?"
"Angela West. She's a little more... typical of our family."
"Typical?"
"Takes after her mother."
"Her mother?"
"Is there an echo in here?" Bart chuckled. "Oh! I almost forgot why we were here..." He shook his head at himself, then Wally suddenly remembered, too. "I hate time lag. Anyway, we're tracking a speedster named Savitar. Wally was chasing him out of the 21st century and I was called to the 30th and we followed him here."
"The Time Institute reported an anomaly about an hour ago, then another one a few seconds later. But you two don't look like you're in any shape to be making another jump just yet."
Wally felt like he was about to fall asleep in the grass, so he could hardly argue.
"We shouldn't wait too long... but maybe Angela could help out."
Bart reached down and helped Wally up, and they took off toward a big, squarish building that looked almost out of place in the sweeping lines of everything else.
A sign outside proclaimed that this was the Time Institute John had been talking about, and when they went inside, Wally was mesmerized by the display cases of time-travel devices and stuff he couldn't begin to fathom.
But even more difficult to fathom was the woman that greeted them from a darkened doorway near the back.
She was like... that girl from the past. Future. Where this Bart was from. But different, with her brother's black hair cut short and a black uniform that had pouches strapped to one leg and a pair of metal escrima on the other. A silver lightning bolt on her chest.
This couldn't be a coincidence. Could it?
"Who are you?" he managed to ask.
She smiled wryly and turned to lead them inside.
"Just a Shadow."
* * *
The present, Tuesday
"Mr. Wayne?"
Bruce was startled out brooding, as Alfred would call it, and pressed the button on his intercom.
"Yes, Linda?"
"You have a visitor, a Mr. Kent of the Daily Planet."
Bruce gritted his teeth and paused before replying.
"Send him in."
He stiffened as Clark walked into the room with a broad smile, still tall and broad in his suit, despite his attempts to appear smaller. He could only hide so much.
Clark closed the door behind him and swept the hat off his head, smoothing his hair and then his tie.
"What can I do for you, Clark?"
"You haven't been answering my calls."
He sat down in the chair across from Bruce unbidden, settling in as if he planned to be there for a while. In no mood to be pushed aside.
Bruce sighed.
"I know what this is about."
"Do you, Bruce?" Clark sat forward and looked him in the eye, adjusting his glasses slightly. "You might be content to always live in the past, but it's been three months. We need closure. We need to do something and you'll have none of it."
"There's no proof that he's dead, Clark."
"Damnit," he whispered. "Bruce, you stubborn bastard. Don't you think we all want nothing more than to watch him come walking back through the door? How long are you going to wait?"
"Longer."
Clark leaned back again and they just stared at each other.
"It doesn't have to be this way," Clark finally said quietly.
Something in Bruce broke, and he slumped back. Unfelt pain that refused to be ignored any longer. Such a flood that it just blended all together and left him numb, not knowing what to feel or think.
"How else could it be?" Bruce asked, in a voice he almost didn't recognize as his own.
Clark got up, sliding open the tall glass window behind the desk, standing there in front of the open sky with an offered hand. All Bruce could think of was escaping...
Escape was what he was being offered. So he accepted it, without a thought.
He did think, belatedly, as they were already soaring above Gotham, that this was awfully imprudent. At the moment, it didn't seem quite as important.
What did seem important, was the easy way Clark was holding him, and the warm smile that was competing with the afternoon sun. Bruce felt himself shrink in it's gaze, and somehow, he wanted that right now. Sometimes Clark could give him this feeling like, for once, the weight of the world was on someone else's shoulders; that someone else could catch him. It was often humbling, strange in how... different it was.
He thought briefly of Wally, who, if he'd taught Bruce anything, had taught him that it wasn't always wrong to accept an invitation, to accept the comforts of another.
Even if he didn't quite know if he felt comforted as Clark took them high in the sky, and shifted Bruce to face him.
"This way, Bruce."
Then there were no more words, as Clark leaned in close to kiss him chastely, questioningly, questions Bruce couldn't answer.
He didn't know what to tell himself anymore, even as Clark returned them to the office and went on his way in silence.
* * *
The 27th century
'If this is what my descendants are like, I need to review what's up with the family tree...' Wally mused as he followed the woman that called herself Shadow, and certainly looked... suited for the role.
The door shut behind them, and they went down the short hall to an elevator. Some distance down, it stopped, and Angela scanned her hand to open another door, that led into a cavernous, steel-beamed space filled with technology. He half-listened to John explain that the Time Institute was managed officially by him, essentially a museum that happened to supply an ample operating budget.
It took him a moment to collect his thoughts enough to ask the burning question in his mind...
"Your name is Shadow? Why?"
"My mother took on the heritage of our ancestor, the first Shadow, the woman that first used the name. The only other one we're sure of, most of it is lost to history," she said.
Wally didn't quite know how to respond to that.
"Well... um... I think I know who you're talking about... Who is she?"
Bart was giving Angela the 'cut it out' sign across his neck, but she didn't seem to understand what he meant, just gave him a funny look and continued.
"She's your daughter."
"My...?"
Wally sat down in a chair and tried to process that.
That girl wasn't a Flash. She was a Bat. She was... his dark persona, the Wally of Gotham. How would he have a daughter? And why would she take that name?
What did all this mean? That he made it back, only to be with someone else? A woman? With kids?
'Or... no. It couldn't be. That's impossible.'
He shook his head in desperate bemusement.
"Okay... I'm good. Alright. Future knowledge, I can handle this." He smiled, then tipped his head a little one side and looked at Angela curiously. "So how come you're just telling me what everyone else wants all hush-hush."
"I don't subscribe to the idea that you can't know about your own future."
"It's a... subject of debate we have," John added.
He was going to have a child someday. It was unexpectedly happy to learn, somehow.
"So, how did you become Shadow?" Wally asked.
"Our mother, Sela, was the daughter of a man, our grandfather, who had our power and never used it. Told us it was a peaceful era that didn't need him. She had no powers, and was content with that, until a genetic defect began to kill her." Wally listened as she began calling up data on a computer screen, one of many incredible looking machines in the hidden room. "Her father took her into the Speed Force, to live suspended, until he could find her a cure. Unfortunately, he'd left himself open to manipulation to get the money, and spend the time he needed to do it. His own advisor murdered him, and was getting away with it."
She spoke like reciting some legend, and Wally realized that, to them, it was, being the story of their heritage, as she continued.
"Sela, trapped at the edge of the Speed Force, lost her tether with the death of her father, and became an avatar of it, pure energy manifested on Earth. For a while, she was incorporeal, gradually regaining human form. But she never forgot her father's fate, and once able, used her power to become a Shadow, to avenge him. Once she did, and the killer was brought to justice, she continued to avenge the lives of others, until we were born."
Angela stepped away from the computer and gestured.
"I think I've found what you need."
* * *
The present, Thursday
Bruce didn't say anything, when Clark began flying alongside his plane. He was flying home from their mission in Pennsylvania and didn't have the energy to argue him away right now. Apparently his silence was taken as permission to continue, because even as he descended toward the cave and flew inside, the red and blue figure followed him, finally coming to a stop and standing outside, waiting, as the canopy retracted and Bruce leapt down to the stone floor.
"What can I do for you, Bruce?"
"Isn't that my line?" he replied evenly, and strode toward the computer.
"I think you know what I mean."
Bruce went through the monitors, searched for any flags that had gone up in his absence, checked on the status of the others still on patrol in Gotham and Bludhaven.
He didn't want to talk about this. He wouldn't know what to say. But wishing away Clark's inquiries was long known to be an exercise in futility.
"You don't have to be alone. You don't have to face this alone."
Wally couldn't be dead.
"I just want to be here for you."
It wasn't possible.
"Please don't push everyone away."
There hadn't been enough time.
"I care about you, Bruce."
He stopped, shut off the screen, and turned around.
"I don't think you even know what that means, Clark."
"Don't I?" Clark said evenly, then sighed. "Maybe you're right. But I'm trying to learn."
At some point, he'd grown very close, until he'd broken past his defenses and was leaning over him on the arms of the chair.
He couldn't bear the look Clark was giving him, with such feeling and adoration. It was almost painful.
Bruce looked away and stared off in the distance.
He closed his eyes, yet didn't resist when Clark gently tipped his head up, brushed their lips together, slid his tongue over his own. Wondered if infidelity always was like this, empty in it's warmth. Wondered if that's what this was.
And then, for once, didn't think at all.
* * *
The 27th century
Wally wasn't looking forward to another time jump, so he was grateful when he was offered as much food as he could eat, which went down so fast he barely tasted or identified any of it.
A bit of rest, spent eyeing Angela like he could hardly believe it.
He wondered just how much he could learn without changing things.
He wondered about time paradoxes and sci-fi scenarios and how fragile time could be.
He thought about getting home. And now, he couldn't help but wonder how things were going to be different.
"You have to leave," Angela said, slipping on a headpiece that looked something like a microphone and an eyepiece. "There's another anomaly, this one appears to be a ripple effect."
Wally quickly picked up a second wind, and the four speedsters ran out into the falling evening.
"Perhaps we'll meet again, Flash," John said with a grin, and shook his hand.
"Same to you."
Angela just nodded tersely, then vanished back into the city.
"Are you ready for this?" Bart asked.
"Do we ever have a choice?"
"Point."
* * *
The present, Saturday
Bruce would have just as soon not made so much as an appearance, and yet, there he was, staring off the balcony of the Colonial Hotel ballroom, taking refuge from the suffocating crowd of people.
Someone's retirement gala. He'd already done his obligatory greetings, and summarily put the information from his mind. Alfred told him to go do something besides sit in the cave.
So here he was.
He was thinking about the look Bart had given him today, at a word of approval on his spelling test scores improving. He'd given him the happiest smile, somehow startling in such a care for so small a gesture. Bruce didn't have the slightest idea how Bart felt, or even how to ask. Someday, he'd find a way. But not today.
Before him was Gotham, his city, his one constant. But, alive as she was, she gave him no gratitude or feeling.
He wondered when a little boy's smile would warm his heart again, if he could ever tell his son he loved him without it sounding awkward and forced.
He wondered about the value of hope against the comfort of Clark's arms.
A sudden sweeping wind whistling through the railing was the only answer his city gave him. After a moment, he walked back inside to make his goodbyes and return to her.
* * *
Angela West bybatfan_sarah
(The present time story is the product of ideas that
batfan_sarah talked me into, and I realized would be perfect. It's all her fault. ::grin:: Now I hope I did her brainstorm justice. Also, props to sucuri for looking over the genealogy that begins to come into play here.)Chapter Four: Once & Future
The present, Monday
Alfred stepped quietly through what was now Bart's apartment.. but no. Such thinking had been disallowed in this home, as days turned into weeks, then months.
Three months exactly, if he recalled correctly... and such things are difficult to forget.
Such was the case, as he discovered Bruce standing in the doorway of Wally's bedroom, still left as it had been when he'd taken off after the League signal. Magazines, comic books, and paperwork were in piles on the bed, a few knocked over and never straightened. An unfinished grocery list on the desk, cut off halfway through the word 'carton', the blue plastic pen laying across the pad of paper.
A pair of pants still draped across a chair, a stack of engineering texts on the floor, a box of candy bars tucked halfway under the bed.
He knew these things without having to look, as he had seen it enough to already know.
If this was to be the theme of their relationship, an unending road of separations, it wouldn't be unlike many others that had come and gone through this house, only to ultimately lost. A sobering thought.
"When did Bart say he would be home?" Bruce asked without turning around.
"Before the hour, sir. But I don't need to remind you of his poor grasp of punctuality."
Bart had begun school in Central City, under the observation of Mary West, and despite repeated insistence that he would prefer to live at the manor, he spent precious little time at home. Perhaps it was something that would change, given time, but Alfred couldn't begin to hazard a guess at a still juvenile mind operating faster than comprehension.
"No, you don't have to remind me."
"I would also like to inform you that Mr. Kent has left several more messages requesting to speak with you."
"Thank you, Alfred."
Clearly, he was being politely... dismissed. He paused for a moment, then took his leave with a nod.
He only left twelve minutes late.
It was such a short time for normal people, so Bart immediately got defensive when he found Bruce waiting for him in his first stop; the kitchen. He just knew that he'd been waiting for him, by the way he was looking at him all intense and wasn't even trying to act casual in any way at all.
"Mr. Wayne I had to help some people on the big road that got stuck..."
"It's fine, Bart. But we need to talk."
"Oh."
He knew it had to be big, when he grabbed some chips and followed him into the study. He tried not to be anxious, but it took so long for him to say anything anymore, and even longer now that Bart was worried.
Bart sat on an overstuffed chair, across from Bruce on the sofa, as he leaned on his knees and looked at him squarely.
"We need to discuss your future, Bart."
The future. He was from the future, but that was distant future, not years-from-now future, a place Bart never thought about that often.
"I..." He frowned and thought hard. "I'll grow up to be a superhero just like Wally, and join the Justice League, and save the world. Right?"
"I meant, more immediate matters."
"Whatever. I just..." Bart rubbed his chin and tried to think of just how to say it. "I don't want anything to change."
Apparently, that answer was enough. Bruce just nodded, then got up and walked out, leaving a slightly perplexed Bart behind.
The timestream, somewhere in the vicinity of the 28th century
Wally was getting the hang of this. Not that it was made any less unsettling. Entering the timestream from the Speed Force was like being everywhere, then being torn apart and put back together again. Somehow, he managed and was finally able to find the thread Bart was chasing. As if he had to summon it out of a tangled web of countless, endless threads, and just know it was the right one, and to not let go until he found the end. Filtering out the bombardment of events passing around them.
It was hard for him to guess just how far they'd gone when they finally came to a stop.
For a moment, he had to stop and remember who he was and when, then spent a dizzy second disoriented. Bart put a steadying hand on his shoulder until he got his bearings, then looked around at a city that could almost be his Metropolis, at first. Very art deco.
"Whe... when are we?"
"The 27th century."
"I don't suppose they have a place we could make a pit-stop here."
"As a matter of fact..." Bart grinned and began weaving through foot-traffic on the streets, all stylistic, long-robed fashions and architecture that felt like some kind of Classical revival meshed with abstract, simple designs everywhere. "This is one of the time periods where there aren't a lot of superheroes. The few still around are either some kind of immortal or inherited it from family," Bart explained, "which is good, because it's pretty quiet for most of it."
"For someone who's been reminding me not to look too close at everything, you sure know a lot about the future," Wally said. "So where are we going?"
"To see the Flash," he replied, and gestured to his left, where a black streak began running alongside them. "Hey John! To my right is the one and only Wally West. Wally, John Fox."
"No, truth? That's really him?" this Flash said with a grin. Wally got a better look at him as he leaned forward to wave; this Flash had black hair with a streak of white away from his forehead, and truth be told, looked a lot like the Bruce he had just left behind, in a black and blue costume with a white logo on the front. "It's an honour to meet you, really. I've read about you in the archives, my mother never thought it'd happen, a West being the Flash again, but I suppose I've always been trying to follow in your footsteps."
They came to a stop in a little park edged by a gurgling creek; and Wally's curiosity was getting the better of him in a hurry.
"I'm in the history books?"
"Well, if I remember it right..."
He clapped his hands over the wingtips on his head, then lowered them. "Maybe knowing just a little bittle bit won't hurt?"
"Oh, but that'd spoil the surprise," Bart said knowingly.
"Alright, alright, don't tell me." Little imp was holding out on him, he could tell. Well, maybe not so little; definitely older than he was. Which was beyond weird. Wally flopped back on the grass that didn't really smell like grass and sprawled out. "Tell me."
Wally looked up, and Bart & John were exchanging glances.
"I suppose a little couldn't hurt," Bart said with a shrug.
"We should introduce him to my sister," John said with a smirk.
"Your sister?"
"Angela West. She's a little more... typical of our family."
"Typical?"
"Takes after her mother."
"Her mother?"
"Is there an echo in here?" Bart chuckled. "Oh! I almost forgot why we were here..." He shook his head at himself, then Wally suddenly remembered, too. "I hate time lag. Anyway, we're tracking a speedster named Savitar. Wally was chasing him out of the 21st century and I was called to the 30th and we followed him here."
"The Time Institute reported an anomaly about an hour ago, then another one a few seconds later. But you two don't look like you're in any shape to be making another jump just yet."
Wally felt like he was about to fall asleep in the grass, so he could hardly argue.
"We shouldn't wait too long... but maybe Angela could help out."
Bart reached down and helped Wally up, and they took off toward a big, squarish building that looked almost out of place in the sweeping lines of everything else.
A sign outside proclaimed that this was the Time Institute John had been talking about, and when they went inside, Wally was mesmerized by the display cases of time-travel devices and stuff he couldn't begin to fathom.
But even more difficult to fathom was the woman that greeted them from a darkened doorway near the back.
She was like... that girl from the past. Future. Where this Bart was from. But different, with her brother's black hair cut short and a black uniform that had pouches strapped to one leg and a pair of metal escrima on the other. A silver lightning bolt on her chest.
This couldn't be a coincidence. Could it?
"Who are you?" he managed to ask.
She smiled wryly and turned to lead them inside.
"Just a Shadow."
The present, Tuesday
"Mr. Wayne?"
Bruce was startled out brooding, as Alfred would call it, and pressed the button on his intercom.
"Yes, Linda?"
"You have a visitor, a Mr. Kent of the Daily Planet."
Bruce gritted his teeth and paused before replying.
"Send him in."
He stiffened as Clark walked into the room with a broad smile, still tall and broad in his suit, despite his attempts to appear smaller. He could only hide so much.
Clark closed the door behind him and swept the hat off his head, smoothing his hair and then his tie.
"What can I do for you, Clark?"
"You haven't been answering my calls."
He sat down in the chair across from Bruce unbidden, settling in as if he planned to be there for a while. In no mood to be pushed aside.
Bruce sighed.
"I know what this is about."
"Do you, Bruce?" Clark sat forward and looked him in the eye, adjusting his glasses slightly. "You might be content to always live in the past, but it's been three months. We need closure. We need to do something and you'll have none of it."
"There's no proof that he's dead, Clark."
"Damnit," he whispered. "Bruce, you stubborn bastard. Don't you think we all want nothing more than to watch him come walking back through the door? How long are you going to wait?"
"Longer."
Clark leaned back again and they just stared at each other.
"It doesn't have to be this way," Clark finally said quietly.
Something in Bruce broke, and he slumped back. Unfelt pain that refused to be ignored any longer. Such a flood that it just blended all together and left him numb, not knowing what to feel or think.
"How else could it be?" Bruce asked, in a voice he almost didn't recognize as his own.
Clark got up, sliding open the tall glass window behind the desk, standing there in front of the open sky with an offered hand. All Bruce could think of was escaping...
Escape was what he was being offered. So he accepted it, without a thought.
He did think, belatedly, as they were already soaring above Gotham, that this was awfully imprudent. At the moment, it didn't seem quite as important.
What did seem important, was the easy way Clark was holding him, and the warm smile that was competing with the afternoon sun. Bruce felt himself shrink in it's gaze, and somehow, he wanted that right now. Sometimes Clark could give him this feeling like, for once, the weight of the world was on someone else's shoulders; that someone else could catch him. It was often humbling, strange in how... different it was.
He thought briefly of Wally, who, if he'd taught Bruce anything, had taught him that it wasn't always wrong to accept an invitation, to accept the comforts of another.
Even if he didn't quite know if he felt comforted as Clark took them high in the sky, and shifted Bruce to face him.
"This way, Bruce."
Then there were no more words, as Clark leaned in close to kiss him chastely, questioningly, questions Bruce couldn't answer.
He didn't know what to tell himself anymore, even as Clark returned them to the office and went on his way in silence.
The 27th century
'If this is what my descendants are like, I need to review what's up with the family tree...' Wally mused as he followed the woman that called herself Shadow, and certainly looked... suited for the role.
The door shut behind them, and they went down the short hall to an elevator. Some distance down, it stopped, and Angela scanned her hand to open another door, that led into a cavernous, steel-beamed space filled with technology. He half-listened to John explain that the Time Institute was managed officially by him, essentially a museum that happened to supply an ample operating budget.
It took him a moment to collect his thoughts enough to ask the burning question in his mind...
"Your name is Shadow? Why?"
"My mother took on the heritage of our ancestor, the first Shadow, the woman that first used the name. The only other one we're sure of, most of it is lost to history," she said.
Wally didn't quite know how to respond to that.
"Well... um... I think I know who you're talking about... Who is she?"
Bart was giving Angela the 'cut it out' sign across his neck, but she didn't seem to understand what he meant, just gave him a funny look and continued.
"She's your daughter."
"My...?"
Wally sat down in a chair and tried to process that.
That girl wasn't a Flash. She was a Bat. She was... his dark persona, the Wally of Gotham. How would he have a daughter? And why would she take that name?
What did all this mean? That he made it back, only to be with someone else? A woman? With kids?
'Or... no. It couldn't be. That's impossible.'
He shook his head in desperate bemusement.
"Okay... I'm good. Alright. Future knowledge, I can handle this." He smiled, then tipped his head a little one side and looked at Angela curiously. "So how come you're just telling me what everyone else wants all hush-hush."
"I don't subscribe to the idea that you can't know about your own future."
"It's a... subject of debate we have," John added.
He was going to have a child someday. It was unexpectedly happy to learn, somehow.
"So, how did you become Shadow?" Wally asked.
"Our mother, Sela, was the daughter of a man, our grandfather, who had our power and never used it. Told us it was a peaceful era that didn't need him. She had no powers, and was content with that, until a genetic defect began to kill her." Wally listened as she began calling up data on a computer screen, one of many incredible looking machines in the hidden room. "Her father took her into the Speed Force, to live suspended, until he could find her a cure. Unfortunately, he'd left himself open to manipulation to get the money, and spend the time he needed to do it. His own advisor murdered him, and was getting away with it."
She spoke like reciting some legend, and Wally realized that, to them, it was, being the story of their heritage, as she continued.
"Sela, trapped at the edge of the Speed Force, lost her tether with the death of her father, and became an avatar of it, pure energy manifested on Earth. For a while, she was incorporeal, gradually regaining human form. But she never forgot her father's fate, and once able, used her power to become a Shadow, to avenge him. Once she did, and the killer was brought to justice, she continued to avenge the lives of others, until we were born."
Angela stepped away from the computer and gestured.
"I think I've found what you need."
The present, Thursday
Bruce didn't say anything, when Clark began flying alongside his plane. He was flying home from their mission in Pennsylvania and didn't have the energy to argue him away right now. Apparently his silence was taken as permission to continue, because even as he descended toward the cave and flew inside, the red and blue figure followed him, finally coming to a stop and standing outside, waiting, as the canopy retracted and Bruce leapt down to the stone floor.
"What can I do for you, Bruce?"
"Isn't that my line?" he replied evenly, and strode toward the computer.
"I think you know what I mean."
Bruce went through the monitors, searched for any flags that had gone up in his absence, checked on the status of the others still on patrol in Gotham and Bludhaven.
He didn't want to talk about this. He wouldn't know what to say. But wishing away Clark's inquiries was long known to be an exercise in futility.
"You don't have to be alone. You don't have to face this alone."
Wally couldn't be dead.
"I just want to be here for you."
It wasn't possible.
"Please don't push everyone away."
There hadn't been enough time.
"I care about you, Bruce."
He stopped, shut off the screen, and turned around.
"I don't think you even know what that means, Clark."
"Don't I?" Clark said evenly, then sighed. "Maybe you're right. But I'm trying to learn."
At some point, he'd grown very close, until he'd broken past his defenses and was leaning over him on the arms of the chair.
He couldn't bear the look Clark was giving him, with such feeling and adoration. It was almost painful.
Bruce looked away and stared off in the distance.
He closed his eyes, yet didn't resist when Clark gently tipped his head up, brushed their lips together, slid his tongue over his own. Wondered if infidelity always was like this, empty in it's warmth. Wondered if that's what this was.
And then, for once, didn't think at all.
The 27th century
Wally wasn't looking forward to another time jump, so he was grateful when he was offered as much food as he could eat, which went down so fast he barely tasted or identified any of it.
A bit of rest, spent eyeing Angela like he could hardly believe it.
He wondered just how much he could learn without changing things.
He wondered about time paradoxes and sci-fi scenarios and how fragile time could be.
He thought about getting home. And now, he couldn't help but wonder how things were going to be different.
"You have to leave," Angela said, slipping on a headpiece that looked something like a microphone and an eyepiece. "There's another anomaly, this one appears to be a ripple effect."
Wally quickly picked up a second wind, and the four speedsters ran out into the falling evening.
"Perhaps we'll meet again, Flash," John said with a grin, and shook his hand.
"Same to you."
Angela just nodded tersely, then vanished back into the city.
"Are you ready for this?" Bart asked.
"Do we ever have a choice?"
"Point."
The present, Saturday
Bruce would have just as soon not made so much as an appearance, and yet, there he was, staring off the balcony of the Colonial Hotel ballroom, taking refuge from the suffocating crowd of people.
Someone's retirement gala. He'd already done his obligatory greetings, and summarily put the information from his mind. Alfred told him to go do something besides sit in the cave.
So here he was.
He was thinking about the look Bart had given him today, at a word of approval on his spelling test scores improving. He'd given him the happiest smile, somehow startling in such a care for so small a gesture. Bruce didn't have the slightest idea how Bart felt, or even how to ask. Someday, he'd find a way. But not today.
Before him was Gotham, his city, his one constant. But, alive as she was, she gave him no gratitude or feeling.
He wondered when a little boy's smile would warm his heart again, if he could ever tell his son he loved him without it sounding awkward and forced.
He wondered about the value of hope against the comfort of Clark's arms.
A sudden sweeping wind whistling through the railing was the only answer his city gave him. After a moment, he walked back inside to make his goodbyes and return to her.
Angela West by
batfan_sarah
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on 2006-07-15 08:06 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2006-07-15 08:09 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2006-07-15 08:27 pm (UTC)This chapter basically inspired porn. I shall draw it, and blame you, and post it when it's done.
Porn isn't bad though, so this chapter was good.
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on 2006-07-15 08:33 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2006-07-15 08:30 pm (UTC)The craziness of te Flash Family Tree. Is it a good/bad thing that I actually understand it? Or at least what I know of it so far.
Wally really needs to get home before Clark runs off with his man. Then there going to be fighting like 'Speed Demons' all over again.
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on 2006-07-15 08:35 pm (UTC)Clarity is a good thing.
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on 2006-07-15 08:46 pm (UTC)Not sure how to feel about this right now.Can't wait to see the next Chapter!
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on 2006-07-15 08:49 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2006-07-15 09:27 pm (UTC)Gads. This is so damn good.
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on 2006-07-16 12:28 am (UTC)no subject
on 2006-07-15 10:26 pm (UTC)You made me read the Bruce/Clark bits through mu fingers as my hand was clasped to my face in horror/fascination/horror.
I'm with voland444--the Bruce/Wally you've written is so very internally cohesive that my Bruce/Clark is completely overwhelmed. This Clark might as well be Tarantula (of Nightwing-rape infamy) in my eyes right now.
And poor Bruce! Everyone leaves him. EVERYONE. Can someone please give him something fluffly and WAFFy please? Fix it (soon/now/eventually) PLEASE!
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on 2006-07-15 10:34 pm (UTC)Bruce will be alright in the long run. He has to suffer for my art, haha
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on 2006-07-15 11:39 pm (UTC)Needless to say, still hooked. Very very hooked.
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on 2006-07-15 11:57 pm (UTC)Yeah. That's it. Comforting. And maybe a little devious.
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on 2006-07-16 12:08 am (UTC)I think that may hurt my brain more than the Flash family tree... Ow...
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on 2006-07-16 12:12 am (UTC)no subject
on 2006-07-15 11:45 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2006-07-16 01:01 am (UTC)Very well executed - this is *exactly* the feeling I was thinking of when I threw it out there.
Love this.
PS
I couldn't help sketching Angela, too ^^
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on 2006-07-16 01:04 am (UTC)no subject
on 2006-07-16 02:12 am (UTC)no subject
on 2006-07-16 02:52 am (UTC)Big giant risk... glad it's working out. Kinda. haha
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on 2006-07-16 03:25 am (UTC)And then they can match the Kon/Tim/Bart OT3
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on 2006-07-16 03:29 am (UTC)Oh, and you're very welcome! Any time.
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on 2006-07-16 03:32 am (UTC)no subject
on 2006-07-16 03:29 pm (UTC)Your icon makes my mind go dirty places.
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on 2006-07-16 03:45 am (UTC)And how could Wally have a child in the future?...I wonder... *blinks innocently*
And oh Clark, when did you become so stupidly impatient? Good grief, three months isn't enough time to even start denial! Back off! Sheez.
I hope you bring Wally back soon to make things right. :(
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on 2006-07-16 03:57 am (UTC)And I mean, you have to give to Clark that he's been on about this for a while... and he sucks at relationships of any kind...
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on 2006-07-16 04:29 am (UTC)dog!Superman!no subject
on 2006-07-16 05:29 am (UTC)Also, Bruce? Bruce, oh Bruceeeee, you poor man. Wally's coming back! Don't give up hope. ):
oh nooooooooooooooooooo
on 2006-07-17 01:24 am (UTC)::sigh::
Alas, I trust in your decision.
oh nooooooooooooooooooo
on 2006-07-17 01:24 am (UTC)::sigh::
Alas, I trust in your decision.
Re: oh nooooooooooooooooooo
on 2006-07-17 01:44 am (UTC)