Confrontation I
When Clark suggests a record of Wayne’s heartbeat, he doesn’t put much hope on it.
Even everyone has a unique heartbeat pattern, it’s still hard to simply recognize one by listening. It’s even harder to distinguish one from thousands, if not millions. That’s like separating a drop of water in the sea.
There’s a reason why Clark only remembers a handful of people’s heartbeats by heart even with his eidetic memory. He can only wish the Kryptonian baby (or fetus) has a heartbeat pattern unique enough for him to differentiate. Or whatever Krypton instincts kick in would give him a shot to instantly know when he looks out.
Jon’s heartbeat definitely etched in his mind the first time Clark heard it. That’s his baby. It means a ton, both in feelings and in biology.
But deep down, Clark knows that’s a far fetch. A successful Kryptonian pregnancy could be very much passed as a human one, so the same goes with baby’s heartbeat.
It turns out, it’s not the baby’s heartbeat Superman could different flood of people, it’s Wayne’s. It’s so easy, and it becomes concerning.
Neither Superman nor Clark Kent has ever been close to Wayne. He is familiar with Wayne only on the base of general public knowledge. Clark might speak to this man couple times but that’s for job and the conversations were quick and superficial. It’s safe to say they’re strangers.
For right now, Clark is not going to complain. He could always figure this mystery out when he is free. In hinder sight, this strange familiarity may be related to why he keeps dreaming about Wayne in past couple months. Clark shoves all the thoughts to back of his mind in order to concentrating his hearing on Wayne.
From what Clark could tell, currently Wayne is moving fast and far away from the base of the Ghost-Maker, and there is another heartbeat close to him. Must be on some vehicle, but that much is expected. He cannot run away without any help, entering Batman. Everything is lined up nicely.
Clark takes off immediately after he is sure the one he is listening is no other than Wayne. He flies high in the sky, using the height as his advantage to locate which way Batman and Wayne is heading, and waits them at the middle of the road before they could change the route.
It will only take few seconds for both speeding parties met head on.
Clark is surprised to see whoever taking Wayne is not the dark knight.
Since there’s no way Batman knowing Superman is coming after him, or Wayne more accurately, Clark shouldn’t feel being avoided.
The screeches of the bike interrupts Clark’s thought. The smell of burning tires suddenly fills the air, but hardly covering up the bitter and aggressive Alpha scents rolling off from the biker. Clark pulls on a straight face, looking directly into the biker’s eyes, or the white lenses on the red hood the biker is wearing, sizing him up.
The young Alpha clearly taking Superman’s appearance as a threat. He crouches down a bit and leans forward on the bike, one hand firmly grasping the throttle, and another dangerous down to the hostler hooked on his tight, judging whether he should shoot Superman or run him over. The posture makes the young man seems bigger than he actually is, almost blocking the entire view of Wayne, who is silently sitting behind him. Scents of frustration, anger and spite keep rolling off him, making him more aggressive and dangerous, giving Clark a good impression how much he hates his surprise visitor.
“What do you want.” The biker spites, doesn’t bother to be polite.
“Red Hood.” Clark says in a calm voice, floating lower to make the conversation easier, but still a good foot above the ground to maintain the height difference. “I believe we’ve met the other night. “
Even without a proper introduction and the outfit has changed for the other, this is clear the same anger young Alpha Clark has met with another two Gotham’s vigilantes, if not more angrier. Clark doesn’t need to ask for his name, the signature headgear the young man wearing is a dead give-away.
The meeting on the other night was tense because both parties had no idea where was Batman and why he was MIA and presumed the other holding back the important intel. In the end they did wrap up the conversation in a semi agreement to inform the other if Batman has been found, Clark would say he is the one supposed to feel offended for those Gotham vigilantes didn’t hold on to their end of the deal.
“I think you forget to send a message in about you’ve made contact with Batman.”
“That’s all you about to say? I don’t play messenger. Complain all you want and get off my way.” The engine roars loudly under Red Hood, he sneers. “Somebody gets real job to do.”
“There is an important matter the League would like to discuss with him in person.”
“Like kicking him out of your hero club.”
“So you know.” Clark squints.
Before Diana and he approached Gotham the vote was only a vague suggestion, and sure they didn’t reveal this idea to the Gotham vigilantes. They’re ambassador and reporter. They know how to talk without giving them away.
Much to his dismay, the vote happened sooner and without Batman, but Clark also doubted even with him there if there was going to be any difference. It just didn’t feel right.
But Diana was right. It’s a closure more for them than for Batman. A bitter conclusion is better than none.
They decided to send a message to Batman on revoke his membership and never got a reply.
Clark assumes it’s because the dark knight is still missing, but it isn’t.
“You made yourself pretty clear. There is no need to pretend. ” Red Hood loses his patience, “Now! Get out!” He growls. Instantly Wayne clutches tighter to him, but raptly watching Superman behind Red hood.
Yes, Wayne. Clark is not here to talk to Red Hood nor Batman. It’s Wayne he is in Gotham the middle of night.
Like sensing the Superman’s change of focus, Wayne shifts a bit behind Red Hood. The arms wrap around the waist of Red Hood squeeze a bit, but Red Hood doesn’t seem to notice, who is too busy trying to kill Superman with glare. Wayne is watching Superman in full attention all these time. His blue eyes are not ghost and pale as in Clark’s dreams, but sharp enough to pierce Superman’s facade and Clark’s soul. Like he knows something Clark doesn’t, or dare to acknowledge.
There is no indication to tell if Wayne is happy to see Superman or just as agitated as the young man he is hugging. He keeps a perfect poker face, revealing no secrets nor feelings.
Clark lowers his sight and x-ray Wayne’s mid section. A quick peek confirms Wayne is carrying and the fetus looks more like over 20 weeks is bigger than Clark would expect. A blood test preferred will be required in the lab of the Fortress to be hundred percent sure, but with super sense, a sniff of the unique undertone of Kryptonian pregnancy buried deep in the sickly sweet scents would be enough for Clark to know the pup is his.
“Fuck off!” Red Hood bristling, finally catching the subtle change in Clark’s attention. Somehow this badly provokes him and brings hostility. He let go of throttle, with a blink of eye there are guns in both of his hands and aimed Superman’s head. “Before I make you!”
“No.” Wayne murmurs, so quiet if not for Clark’s super hearing. His fingers dig deep into Red Hood’s jacket, like holding the young Alpha back or trying to cover him up by his own body, but unsuccessful since Red Hood is almost the same size of him and won’t back down without a fight.
On any good day, fighting with Superman is ridicules. Wayne looks like the only one sane knows this and try to prevent a fight.
Wayne never moves his sight away from Clark while struggling holding down Red Hood. He looks at him like Superman is the danger.
“I mean no harm.” Clark explains, in his full glory and authorization of Superman. “Actually, I am here to talk with Mr. Wayne.”
“Fuck you are.” Red Hood’s distrust is plain as day. He is elbowing Wayne to push the other back. “You outta your mind?” He is yelling to Wayne, but focused on Superman. Seeing there is no leave of Superman, Red Hood swiftly swaps new bullets from his pocket and loads them in his gun with a fluid motion and a faint click. Let his action does the talk.
Clark knows what’s made of these bullets. Or rather, he feels it.
Kryptonite.
Superman drops to the Ground instantly. Good thing is the dose is not high enough to disable Superman without direct contact, so his dignity is still in tack.
There are lead lined pockets when Clark scanned Red Hood for dangers but he doesn’t expect the other kept kryptonite on him.
They never cross the path in the past and probably highly unlikely in the near future, saving the meeting the other night.
Seriously, how much Superman managed to piss off the Bats to grant his allay carrying kryptonite around? Isn’t this too dramatic and extreme?
Or paranoid is a trail running deep in Gothamite?
“Uhmm.”
A low whimper snaps Clark’s attention back. Wayne is involuntarily crawling up at the sudden exposure of kryptonite and his painful reaction confuses Red Hood.
“Bruce?” It’s tearing Red Hood apart if he should keep his focus on Superman or turn back to check on Wayne. His hand draws back to touch the other, voice quivers for a moment, then outrageously yelling at Clark. “What’s the hell did you do!”
He is about to shot Superman if it means to end the pain of the other, only barely holding back because he doesn’t know if it’s going to work.
So he doesn’t know Wayne is pregnant with Superman’s baby.
“Put the kryptonite back.” Clark says with much authority and sincere he could put into his voice. He is holding his hand up, trying to get closer but freeze when Red Hood takes it badly.
“Put. The kryptonite. Back.” Clark repeats, slowly.
“What did you do!” The hand holding the gun never tremble nor move. At all. Despite panic slowly creeps into Red Hood’s voice and scents.
Wayne clenches his jaw and not let out no more noise. He presses himself onto Red Hood, hard, clearly in pain.
“Kryptonite is hurting him more than it hurting me.” It’s a matter of fact, but Red Hood doesn’t believe it.
“Are you kidding me?!”
The silence of Wayne doesn’t help. He is watching Clark, like all these time, but it’s still hard to determine if he knows the pup inside him is Kryptonian or not.
What if he doesn’t know.
That’s sick.
Whatever happened to put him through and end up being this. It must be horrify.
Ghost-Maker doesn’t seem to be the one putting the fetus in Wayne, since he is so frustrated and end up calling Superman to get rid of the baby. So there is another unknown party performed the operation. A party is able to obtain Superman’s genes and abduct a billionaire for a expanded time without raising any concerns.
The question circles back to why Wayne, now is not a good time to play detective.
“You need to listen to me.” Clark takes a deep breath. He hopes there is better way to phrase this. “The pup he is carrying, is Kryptonian. Kryptonite is hurting him.”
Red Hood is beyond furious, a string of nasty curses poured down on Clark.
Clark winces. “Just put the kryptonite back for one second, please. I promise I won’t move.”
The pleading and promise falls on deaf ears.
Red Hood growls, “get the fuck out. Now!”
Clark honestly doesn’t know how much kryptonite will hurt a unborn half blood pup. He is not going to find out tonight. Red Hood doesn’t give him any choice to stay.
See there is no other way around, Clark grudgingly leaves.