Chapter 13
Clark is asleep when Steve opens the door. Not peacefully asleep by the way he’s groaning and squirming, but it’s better than some of the alternatives. Steve had been tipping back and forth between imagining opening the door to an empty apartment while a feverish and confused Superman terrorized the city and coming back to find that Clark had passed on in his sleep.
Steve glances back at Bruce to see his face pale and his lips pressed in a thin line.
“Clark,” Steve says gently. He puts his hand on Clark’s forehead. It’s damp with a cold sweat that, upon closer examination, is tinted a pale green. Steve points it out to Bruce.
“His body must be trying to sweat out the kryptonite. That’s a good sign.” Bruce says. He begins untangling the cords and setting up the sunlight paddle that Steve hopes will cure Clark. Bruce works in a stiff silence that Steve doesn’t bother trying to break. Instead he grabs a fresh towel and dabs the kryptonite sweat away from Clark’s face.
“It’s ready.” Bruce says, “and put these on.”
He hands Steve a set of red tinted goggles. Steve slides them over his eyes and the living room goes hazy and dark.
“Don’t look directly at the light for more than a few seconds. You might go blind,” Bruce says and then he switches it on. Even with the goggles the light stings, making Steve’s eyes water. He looks down at Clark. Though his eyes are still squeezed shut, Clark’s face turns towards the light as if instinctively knowing its healing powers. His cheeks take on a rosy glow as his brow smoothes out.
Bruce starts at Clark’s head, but slowly moves the paddle downwards, bathing all of Clark in its glow. Clark’s fingers twitch as he weakly reaches for the light. When Bruce reaches Clark’s feet he carefully moves back up towards his head. He repeats the process several times and each time Clark responds with a little more vigor than before.
Steve steps into the kitchen while Bruce works. With each passing moment, he’s more convinced that his contraption worked. But he’s been on the other side of devastating illnesses before, just because you’re out of danger doesn’t mean you’re better.
He tuts at the state of Clark’s kitchen. For a farm boy there’s a distinct lack of fresh vegetable in his apartment. Even in the heart of Brooklyn his Ma always managed to bring home a few fresh vegetables each week. Instead Steve finds a sad can of chicken noodle soup pushed all the way in the back. Steve grimaces, but it’s better than nothing. He heats up the limp noodles and pours them in a bowl.
Clark is just waking up as Steve joins them in the living room. His skin has a healthy glow to it and his eyes are clear as he takes in Bruce with his paddle and Steve with his soup. His eyes zero in on Steve and trail down to take in Steve’s costume, his head tilting as he puts two and two together.
“How are you feeling?” Steve asks.
“Like I have the flu, or at least like how I imagine the flu feels like.” Clark says.
“What do you remember?” Steve asks taking a seat in the chair and handing Clark the soup. Clark’s face screws up in concentration.
“Greks!” He says, “He hit me with a smoke bomb or something.”
“Kryptonite gas.” Steve corrects.
“Steve, why are you dressed like that? And why is Bruce Wayne in my apartment?” Clark asks, “Am I dreaming?”
“No.” Steve hesitates. He doesn’t mind giving up his identity, but he hadn’t meant to out Bruce’s as well.
“I’m Batman, he’s The Captain, and you’re Superman.” Bruce says briskly, like saying it faster would make it less shocking.
“I-I” Clark’s head whips between them, as if unsure which one he wants to interrogate first. Bruce crosses his arms and glares.
“And if you breathe a word about this to anyone-”
Clark scoffs as he takes a bite of soup, “as if I would, I’m just shocked that someone who spends so much time in the gossip mags is Batman.”
Bruce shrugs, “sometimes the best way to be undercover is to be right in middle of the public eye. What I find more curious is how the Daily Planet has not one, but two superheroes working at it.”
Two sets of eyes turn towards Steve.
“I didn’t do it purposefully.” He says.
“I find that suspect.” Bruce says, “and we know so little about you.”
“It’s a bit of a long story.” Steve warns.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Clark says cheerfully gesturing around his apartment with his spoon, “Please, both of you make yourselves at home.”
Bruce remains standing.
“I guess it all started in the 1940s, during the war. The army needed a test dummy for their super soldier program and I needed an in. The army wouldn’t take me otherwise on account of my asthma, and heart troubles, and scoliosis… and anemia.”
“You had all that growing up?” Clark asks. Bruce rolls his eyes.
“You’re a bit young for someone who should be a senior citizen by now.” Bruce accuses.
Steve ignores both of them, “anyway, the serum clearly worked. So I was put to work as Captain America, the world’s first super soldier.” He skips over the war bonds and the show girls. Some things should stay in the past, and instead gives them a brief description of hydra, the howling commandoes, Peggy, and Bucky.
“And then I put the plane in the water.” Steve said, “I expected to die…”
He trails off. Sitting in that plane with the ocean water flooding in Steve had made peace with his death, with missing out on the end of the war, with never meeting Peggy for their dance. It had been bittersweet, but he hadn’t regretted it in his last conscious moments.
Clark looks horrified. Bruce looks skeptical.
“I guess that explains why you got involved with the Neo-Nazi case.” Clark says.
Steve lowers his head, “After all the suffering Nazis have caused in both our worlds, I couldn’t stand by and do nothing.
“Anyway, I woke up decades later in New York. Suspended animation, according to the doctors. Nobody even knew the serum could do that.”
“You realize this sounds completely, unbelievable right?” Bruce asks, “And I say that knowing that there is a space alien sitting in the room.”
“Yeah, I know.” Steve says.
“Well there must be proof. Government records or something.” Clark says. Steve shakes his head, “I’m not done.”
“When I woke up it was 2012. SHIELD is the one who debriefed me.”
“SHIELD?” Bruce asks.
“Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division. I joined the Avengers and tried to adjust to the 21st Century.” Steve says.
“That can’t have been easy,” Clark says sympathetically.
“Who are the Avengers?” Bruce asks brusquely.
Steve gives them the basic outline. Bruce, interrupting to ask questions about each one. He’s particularly suspicious over Thor and his alleged Godhood, as well as the Hulk. Steve can’t help but to drop in the fact that Tony Stark is also a billionaire philanthropist who spends more time in the gossip mags than not, just to watch Clark’s eyes light up mischievously as Bruce glares.
“You had your own Batman?” Clark asks. Bruce scowl deepens.
“Not exactly. Tony is…a bit more enthusiastically open about being Iron Man.”
“He doesn’t keep it a secret?” Clark asks, shocked.
“No, to be honest none of us did. Not that I could. There were too many history books that mentioned me. And you can’t expect the god of thunder to be subtle about things. Banner tried to keep a low profile, but the Hulk usually had other plans. Clint and Natasha sort of tried, but not very hard to be honest.”
“So, if you’re from 2012, how come Bruce and I didn’t join the Avengers?” Clark asks.
“I’m not from your future or your Earth really. I’ll explain when I get there. Like I said, this isn’t a short or a simple story.”
“Oh so not only are you a time traveller, you’re from a different Earth. This is very believable.” Bruce snaps. Steve shrugs, “You asked, and I’m telling you. Whether you believe me or not, is up to you.”
“How did you end up on our Earth?” Clark asks, “Science experiment gone wrong? A battle?”
“Not exactly,” Steve says, “The government and I didn’t see eye to eye on certain things once I came back. There was…tension. The government wanted a poster boy and for a while I was willing to play ball. The Avengers did good work. We saved a lot of people.”
Steve sighs, ducking his head down and running his fingers through his hair, “And then I found out that Hydra had infiltrated SHIELD and had been running things behind the scenes for decades.”
“Nazis? And the government just let that happen?” Clark asks.
“Operation Paperclip, or your world’s version of it I assume,” Bruce says softly.
Steve nods, “That’s what it started out as, but once Hydra was in, they spread like a virus.”
Steve eyes grow distant as he talks about Bucky. What Hydra had done to him, what they had turned him into after decades of torture and brainwashing. Clark snaps his spoon, his face flushing with unconcealed rage. Even Bruce’s face has lost its skeptical look, replaced by a tight look disgust. Steve jumps up to grab Clark another spoon, muttering something about Clark needing to eat for his health. In the kitchen he discretely wipes his eyes before rejoining them in the living room.
“But you stopped Hydra and saved you friend. Everything was okay, right?” Clark asks, with a hopeful innocence. Bruce gives Clark a pitying look.
“It wasn’t that simple.” Steve says before launching into how Sam and he had searched for months for Bucky, following dead lead after dead lead until duty called them away from their search. How when Bucky did pop back up it was only to be accused of a murder he didn’t commit. When Steve gets to the government’s plan on how to handle Bucky, Clark snaps a second spoon.
“They can’t just do that! What about the right to a trial? Or at least the right not to be murdered by your own government?”
“General Ross considered him a traitor and made sure he was stripped of his US citizenship,” Steve says bitterly. Steve keeps talking and doesn’t gloss over anything. He talks about the Sokovia Accords and his refusal to sign them. Clark nods along as if his choice was the obvious one, and Steve feels a clenching sensation in his chest release at Clark’s agreement. He stumbles when he talks about Tony. The meltdown of their friendship and the killing blow that came when they watched the video of the Winter Soldier killing his parents.
Bruce punches a wall. Clark jumps.
“What was that for?” Clark asks. Steve folds his arms over. He had read about how Bruce had acquired the company so young and had wondered how Bruce would react. He and Tony were just so similar…
“I couldn’t let him kill Bucky. Not for something he had no control over. Not for what Hydra did.” Steve says.
“Of course not.” Clark assures him immediately, still watching Bruce warily. Bruce doesn’t turn around.
“Just get on with your story,” He growls.
“We were arrested. The charges included treason for everyone involved. I couldn’t let the other’s go through that, so I cut a deal. General Ross got me at a secure military base and everyone else got let go with a warning.” Steve says, “it was the right choice.”
Steve sticks out his chin stubbornly and dares either of them to argue.
“So your friend murders a man’s parents and gets away with it?” Bruce asks coldly.
“I’d hardly consider seventy years of being a prisoner of war, nothing,” Steve says matching his tone, “You’re a bit young. Alfred looks old enough to remember the war, maybe you should ask him for details about how bad it actually got. The history books really gloss over a lot of things.”
They stare at each other from across the room. Bruce blinks first.
“Alfred served in the war.” Bruce admits
“Good, then he’ll be able to tell you exactly what a hell it was for us.”
Steve settles back in his chair. Clark looks between them, wide eyed.
“Ross decided the best thing to do with me was push me through a wormhole and make me some other Earth’s problem. That’s how I ended up here.” Steve finishes.
“That’s an incredible story,” Clark says sincerely, “and I’m sorry for what your government did to you. They were completely out of line. But their loss is our gain I suppose, and I’m real glad you landed in Metropolis.”
Bruce grunts, “I’ll be running some simulations to see if your story checks out.”
“I wouldn’t expect any different from you.” Steve says. Bruce gives Clark a once over and declares him healthy. Then he packs with soldier like speed and efficiency. Steve wonders if Alfred taught him that.
“If your symptoms come back, call me. Otherwise, I’ll be in touch.” Bruce says and then disappears with Batman level stealth.
“He’s an odd man,” Clark says shutting the door behind him.
“You’re from space and I’m from another Earth. I hate to say this buddy, but I’m pretty sure he’s the most normal of our group.” Steve says patting his shoulder, “And finish your soup. It’s getting cold.”
Steve spends the night on Clark’s couch. Ostensibly in case Clark had any lingering reaction to the kryptonite, but mostly because Clark spent half the night asking Steve questions about the war and the Avengers like an overgrown schoolboy. Clark made for an excellent audience. His eyes grew wide as Steve talked about rescuing the Howling Commandoes and he gasped in all the right places.
“Vets used to hang out at the only pub in town.” Clark says as Steve finishes another story, “We used to go after school just to listen to their stories. There aren’t many of them left anymore.”
“No,” Steve says, as a pang of loneliness shoots through him, “The number dwindles every year.”
“Bruce will probably tell Alfred your story. Maybe you should reach out to him. Trade war stories.”
“You know, I just might do that. Bruce probably won’t be thrilled.” Steve says, a small smile forming.
“You’re Captain America.” Clark says impishly, “You fought Nazis. You can handle a bat.”
Steve laughs, a fully belly laugh that he hasn’t managed in years. The kind that shakes your shoulders and leaves you breathless and giggling.
Although Clark enjoys the war stories, he seems even more curious about the Avengers.
“So it’s a team of superheroes. You all just save the day together.”
“Yes, that’s usually what a “team” means.” Steve says, his mouth twitching. Clark rolls his eyes.
“I just think that’s kind of amazing. I want to be on a team.” Clark admits, “It sounds better than always doing it alone.”
A shy smile plays around his lips as his eyes flick down. Steve wonders how lonely it must be to be the last of your kind. He may have to witnesses the loss of his generation, but at least he could always be reassured that there were more humans roaming about. Clark didn’t have that luxury, and for all that he looked like a human, it wasn’t really the same as being human. Steve’s heart tugs in sympathy for the young man in front of him.
“Listen,” Steve says seriously, putting a hand on his shoulder, “if you can convince Batman to join a team with you I will gladly join as well just to watch the resulting fireworks.”
Clark laughs and Steve sits back, satisfied. They spend the rest of the night lobbing around potential team names. Steve is partial to The Justice Society of America while Clark stubbornly insists that Super Friends is not a stupid name.
“How does The Justice League sound?” Clark asks, he’s yawning, curled up on his chair.
“Of America?”
“Not everything needs America in the title.” Clark rolls his eyes.
Steve smiles, “It’s a good name. I’d join a team named that.”
“Good, because that’s the team I’m going to form.” Clark murmurs his head dropping into his arms. Steve hustles him off to bed soon after. Returning to make his own bed on the couch. Steve drifts off to sleep, with a smile on his face, and a feeling of belonging burning in his chest in a way he hasn’t felt since he was with the Avengers.