Similis

The ploy with the fire alert had gone perfectly, and now Haze was standing alone in the inner courtyard of the building complex. Shivering his wings away and pulling his t-shirt on, he re-examined his target.



Looming directly in front of Haze was the tall, slim, steel and glass tower that Morgan Edge used as his base of operations. The building was entirely empty, the few staff that worked nights all duly accounted for by the fire alert, and due to a Batman-inspired problem with the security doors, the attending fire crews had yet to be able to get back inside and approve the building for re-occupation. Until that happened the entire structure would remain vacant.



"All clear this side." Bruce's voice echoed through the tiny earpiece. "I'm on my way back to you, but I'll have to go the long way round as I don't want any of them to get the idea that this is anything other than an electrical fault."



Haze tapped the microphone connector twice, their signal to tell Bruce that he was ready and that he understood.



Between Bruce's electrical engineering skills and Haze's control of energy, all of the surveillance devices in the area had been rendered permanently inoperative before Haze's bare feet had even touched down on the small manicured lawn that formed the heart of the inner courtyard. Since they were flying in, the angel had left his footwear behind at the house, judging the extra weight to be irrelevant.



"Okay, I'm just coming down the stairs from the roof, you can start whenever you're ready." Bruce advised through the earpiece. "I'll be with you in approximately one minute."



Haze glanced up, noting that the stars were already beginning to fade in the pre-dawn sky. Taking a careful inventory of his resources, Haze let his mind fall into synch with the pattern of the world around him. In front of him the roof of the building began to glow, as Haze encouraged the molecules to move just a little more freely than they should have. The adhesives holding down the various components of the roof gently vaporised, releasing the energies that had held their particles together and shunting that energy toward Haze. The mineral felting was simplicity itself, turning to dust with only a hint of encouragement.







From down on the plaza, the loss of the roof was barely visible, but Haze knew he was succeeding from the steady increase in his own energy levels. The trick was to hold it in, and so not alert anything to his presence. He might not particularly want to be doing this, but he was determined to apply himself properly to the task.



As Jonathan so often said, if a job was worth doing it was worth doing well…



The long glass windows came next. They were more difficult, as glass molecules liked to remain rigid, although with just a little extra persuasion the panes gave up and powdered downwards, dusting the far end of the plaza and the building next door with a fine coat of freshly ground silicon mix.



The lights and electrical circuits soon granulated and sat on the exposed floor. The metal frames and the other upright sections in the walls became powder with only a little help, and the vulnerable composites of the ducting and pipes were simplicity itself and barely needed more than a nudge. Even the carpeting that ran from end to end of the penthouse level shivered readily into dust and was snatched away at the first lick of a breeze.



The building was now only thirty-nine stories high, although to a casual observer that fact might not have been immediately apparent.



Haze nodded as Batman stalked out of the shadows under the overhang of the next block.



"How are we doing?" Bruce asked. Haze pointed up and signed that they were minus one already. Bruce narrowed his eyes and counted, then counted again. "Fuck." He murmured in awe. "You really CAN do it?"



Haze nodded, still feeling distinctly uneasy at breaking the disciplines of a lifetime on such a wide scale, but looking determinedly back at his target he got on with the 39th Floor.



Bruce stood beside him and watched silently as the building ground down, floor by floor, until there were only thirty-five levels left.



The next was the floor with the vault.







Haze concentrated, calling to the molecules of reinforced metal and liberating them. Expending some of the energy he had gained from the demolition process, he sent out probing tendrils of mind-awareness, and charmed the kryptonite back into its component parts: the resulting metamorphic rocks posed no threat to anyone and were soon simply piles of mineralised sand.



The paper documents were easily crisped into carbon, while the plastic storage materials degraded into simple raw silicates with hardly more than a careful shove to the right points.



The walls of the vault drifted down with considerably less effort than they had been erected, and Haze called to the unbound energy, stockpiling it carefully within his aura so as not to draw attention to his activities. Despite the amount of 'empty space' in the building, he was beginning to feel the cumulative effect. It was with some relief that Haze recalled that the lower floors were mostly occupied with offices filled with desks and computers, which while appearing bulky should not contribute all that much extra.



"How are you feeling?" Bruce was asking.



'Quarter-full.' Haze signed.







"About the two pizza stage then?" Bruce grinned, recalling a recent dinner conversation with Jon about how much food Haze and Clark would usually put away between them.



Haze smiled and gestured that that was about right.



Bruce tried to ratify the mental image of two teenagers eating pizza at an old farmhouse table with the reality of an energy-sucking alien and a building that was still gradually vanishing right in front of him. He decided that he preferred not to even think about the implications. "You don't need me for this." He muttered. "Haze, I'm going to go scout around again, and make sure that everything is okay. I'll keep checking in with you, and I'll let you know when I'm coming back."

Nodding, Haze motioned him away.







"Alright," Bruce grinned, "I get the hint…" He stepped off into the concealing shadows and vanished from human eyes, however Haze continued to track him as the Batman approached the archway in the corner of the plaza and swiftly ascended the face of the building via the rope that they had left fastened for that purpose.



Finally Haze turned back to his own task.



The next thirty floors sighed down out of the sky as readily as knitting unravelling. As the top of the third floor was exposed to daylight for the first time since construction, and the distant sounds of screaming sirens and people yelling began to filter in towards Haze, the angel modified his approach, encouraging the far wall of the building to metamorphose into vertical metal sheeting to prevent anyone coming through from that side.



As he worked, Haze all but ignored the area behind him, confident that no one could enter the plaza without either he or Bruce knowing. Between them they had welded all three sets of emergency doors shut and left the anti-flood barriers in the sealed position, and as Bruce had said: it would take a damn long time for standard human techniques to effect an entry from out there.



The mezzanine and the ground floors broke down into dust, and the cellars followed with scarcely a pause. Finally, the last of the basement levels was compromised, and Haze sighed with relief, seeing the huge rectangle of sandy particles settle downwards for the last time.







Now Edge has nothing left with which to hurt us. Even as Haze completed the thought there was a sudden pop. A shock of pain bit into Haze. Stunned, he staggered, running his finger down over his shoulder and finding a thin cylinder nosing out of his skin. Instinctively he tried to shift away, only to find that the radiation pumping through him prevented it.



Shutting down his pain sensors, Haze turned, scanning the courtyard. He knew he couldn't operate like this for long, but he was determined not to go down before he had eliminated the threat.



From beside the wall of one of the adjoining buildings Morgan Edge stared at him, the long tube clutched in Edge's hand telling its own story.



"So, Kal. Thought you'd creep up on me, huh?" Edge called out. "Seems that you're not as smart as you figured? Not as dead as I would have liked, either? Still it's nothing that another of these little green meteor bullets can't fix. Apparently the sights on this thing are a bit off, but I'll be sure and hit you dead centre this time." He smirked as he edged out from the shadows, shutting the concealed exit behind him. "Aw, what? No witty comebacks?"



Haze felt the world spin around him. He had known injury in his life, it was one of the things a warrior was taught to deal with, and he could already tell that this one was bad.



How could I have been so stupid as to assume that an empty building must automatically mean that Edge was not around! It hadn't even occurred to him that Edge might have built himself a little bolthole somewhere under the neighbouring foundations, lead-lined most probably, in case Kal came calling.



Haze simply hadn't been thorough enough in his scanning, and now that careless error was going to cost him…







Edge wandered closer. "Nothing to say? You're not usually so quiet Kal. Unless?" He squinted in the dim light. "No red glow either? Curious? Why, I do believe that it's just possible that you're actually the other one? Haze, wasn't it? Hhmm, well, that changes things a bit … I definitely have a use for you, my lad."



There is still one thing that Edge could use against Clark… Me At that moment, Haze realised that he had just handed himself to Edge on a plate. Unless…



He made a crudely graphic gesture that left no doubt in Edge's mind as to what he thought of that idea.



"Let's see if we can't convince you to co-operate?" Edge suggested, raising the muzzle of the gun. "Or at least teach you some better manners?"



If one bullet felt this bad, two should be rapidly fatal. Haze was never going to let Edge use him as bait for Clark, even if only Kal remained in the beloved body now.



One betrayal was enough Haze was determined that there would never be a second time. Deliberately, he shifted as if to spin round and attack, figuring that even the stupidest and most clumsy of humans should be able to hit the target at this close range…



"Haze!" Swinging down out of nowhere, Batman kicked the gun. The weapon fired for a second time as it squeezed out of Edge's grasping fingers.



Twisting in mid-air Batman ended the arc of his flight with his feet in Edge's ribs. The sharp howl that Edge made as he fell to the stone floor echoed around the small courtyard.



"Haze, I'm coming!" Bruce called urgently, working to subdue the struggling criminal. "Just hold on!"



The air around Haze seemed to darken, his arms refused to respond and his balance wavered. He felt himself fall forward.



"Got you!" A muscular body blurred out of nowhere, strong arms wrapping around Haze. Gratefully Haze surrendered to the familiar embrace.







Even as he pulled Haze toward him, Kal groaned at the sting of kryptonite coming from Haze's chest and shoulder. His own knees were giving way. He dropped to the ground, deliberately angling himself so that Haze would land on his lap and so be at least partly-cushioned from the force of the impact.



Haze's eyes flickered open and the angel stared up. 'Clark' he signed, touching Kal's face with a trembling hand.



"Haze!" Kal growled. "You know he's not here! We buried that loser together, don't you remember?"



'Need… Clark… Now.' Haze managed to sign. 'Bond.'



"The bond you had with him?" Kal asked. "What about it?"



"Heal.' Haze was visibly weakening.



"Clark's not coming back!" Kal told him, more sharply than he had intended. "You can't heal him." The pain from the bullets was tearing through him too, and Kal was in no mood to hear about his pathetic ex-persona being wanted more than he was. He was here right now, wasn't he? That had to count for something. Did no one on this whole damned world appreciate him properly?



"Forget Clark, he's dead." He snapped angrily.



'Me too.' Haze signed shakily, and fell back unconscious onto Kal's lap.







"Haze!" Batman dropped to his knees right in front of Kal. He glared at the 'evil twin'. "How badly is he hurt?"



"Bad." A horrified Kal told him. "He's been hit twice: chest and shoulder. You have to get the bullets out. He can't heal with them in him."



"So why didn't you pull them out, instead of wasting time arguing with him?" Batman was angry, and confused.



"Because they're made of Kryptonite, you stupid fuck!" The other youth snarled. "I can't touch it!"



"Then hold Haze still, and I'll get them."



"Smart man."



"Shut your mouth, you ignorant little punk." Batman was too worried about Haze to think about the consequences of insulting this alien egomaniac. He examined Haze with careful hands: the wound on the youth's shoulder was nasty but what was really worrying him was the chest wound. The partially emerged bullet was probably holding in a lot of the bleeding, but the front of the dark shirt was already soaked. The coppery tang of blood hung in the still air, even now fresh trails of it were seeping down onto Kal's jeans and pooling beneath them.



Working quickly, Bruce sliced the t-shirt open from hem to neck with his utility knife and took a better look at what he was dealing with. More than a half-inch of glowing green rock protruded from the middle of Haze's sternum. Bruce's stomach churned at the thought of the damage to his angel, and the pain the wounds must have caused Haze.



No wonder he passed out…



Miraculously both bullets seemed to have stayed intact. Nearly half of the first shell was sticking out of the side of Haze's shoulder, having ricocheted off the angel's incredibly strong bones.



Perhaps it would be better to take that out first since it was interfering with Kal's ability to hold Haze steady, which in turn would make getting the second one out even trickier. Maybe Haze would even start to heal while they worked on the second wound? Bruce fervently hoped so.



"I'm gonna hurl any second." Kal complained. "Hurry up, will ya! It's killing me!"



"Wrong choice of words." Bruce told him, seething with rage, but knowing that he couldn't hope to do this without the other boy's assistance. Leaving his glove on for better grip, he gritted his teeth and latched his fingers onto the pointed head, pulling it slowly and delicately but with all of his strength. After only a second it came free.



Kal hissed and shrank away from it.



The vile cylinder glowed brighter as Bruce thrust it towards the red-eyed monster. He was so tempted…







"If I thought it would teach you anything, I'd make you eat the damned thing." Bruce growled at Kal.

"So you're another one who thinks that he can tell me what to do? I'm superior to you in every way!" Kal smirked, despite looking nauseous.



"Yeah, you're so superior that you just caused the most beautiful person in the whole world to take a bullet through the back for you?" Bruce was beyond furious. "You don't deserve Haze, you selfish little shit!"



"Sez you!" The youth retorted. "You're only jealous because he's mine!"



"Haze is not your possession, he's a person with his own rights."



"I know all you little mice like to believe in that crap, but I've got plans for Haze." Kal stated. "We're going to do great things together!"



"Is that all you can think of? Yourself? Still?" Bruce stared directly at him, purposely ignoring the sinister glow in the youth's pupils. "What about Haze? Did you even care how much you hurt him the last time you had a little 'fun'?"



"What do you mean?" Kal took a quick look at the bare skin under his fingers. "The rest of him looks fine now. Very fine, in fact…" He added, "Just get that other bullet out, and Haze will heal."



"I don't think he can heal himself any more." Bruce stated harshly, pointing to the fresh flood of red from the shoulder wound.



"I can seal that." Kal decided. His eyes glowed even more hotly and he started to look toward the exit point.







"No!" Bruce practically slapped the idiot. The heat snapped off. "You'll seal the outside, but he'll still be bleeding internally!" He warned angrily.



"Then what do I do?" For the first time the youth seemed ready to listen.



"Reach round and put firm pressure on both ends of the wound," Bruce told him. "Slow the flow, and help it to stop naturally…"



One of the broad hands clamped deftly around Haze's shoulder and the sulky youth did as instructed. "Okay, it's slowing." He reported. "Now what?"



Bruce watched with baited breath as the flood diminished to a faint seepage. "Hold it like that. I'll tell you when you can stop."



"I think it’s starting to clot." Kal muttered darkly. "You'd better be right about this." He warned. "Now get on with the other one, or he won't have any blood left."



"Does Haze need it though?" Bruce wondered aloud. How much of Haze's current physiology was show and how much necessity?



"You need your blood, I need mine," Kal growled, "And I don't wanna find out the hard way that Haze needs his too. Now get that fucking bullet out or I see how long it takes to make toasted bat." His eyes sparked dangerously.



He won't do anything while he still needs me for this. Ignoring the crude threat, Bruce went back to working on the second bullet, carefully teasing the snout outwards, edging the cylinder delicately along the open channel and desperately hoping that nothing broke off inside the wound.







Getting the projectile out wasn't easy. Bruce's blood-slicked fingers slipped off the pointed end several times, causing Kal to swear profusely at him, however the lethal hands were fully occupied with holding on to Haze.



"Haze came back to me that night, after he had been with you," Bruce growled at Kal as he worked on Haze. The way he figured it, once the bullet was out he was expendable again and probably therefore dead anyway - regardless of the outcome.



"And Haze cried, you sick bastard! He stood there and wept in my arms because of what you did to him - the pain you caused. You damn near terrified him that night."



The other youth frowned darkly. "I don't believe you."



Even though he could practically feel the strength of the glare Kal levelled at him, Bruce didn't even bother to look up. "Yes you do." He said coldly. "You know damn well it's the truth. I don't care enough about you to bother lying to you."



Finally the end of the projectile slid out. Bruce dropped it into the same lead-lined canister as the first one, tucking the container into his utility belt and making sure he would have it to hand, just in case.



"You're only saying that because you want me to think he's with you." Kal said confidently. "That Haze wants you…" He smirked. "Maybe you need to believe that?"



"After the next thirty seconds or so, it won't matter." Bruce told him, grimly checking and rechecking what he had already suspected. "Neither of us will have him. Haze is dying."



"He can't be!" The youth asserted.



"But he is." Looking down at Haze, Bruce felt his own heart breaking. "Isn't he? Even without the kryptonite in him he still isn't healing, and if I can see it then you must be able to. You being so superior…"



"Haze?" Kal looked down at the youth draped across his lap and narrowed his eyes. "He's still bleeding inside…" He said, suddenly anxious. "Stop it!" He looked at Bruce. "Do something!"



"I'm just a stupid human." Bruce reminded him. "I can't do anything except be here for him. Unless you have some other godlike power?"



"No. I…"



For the first time, Bruce saw a crack appear in the arrogance in which Kal cloaked himself. Maybe Bruce couldn’t save Haze, and maybe not even himself now, but he was sure of what Haze would have wanted him to do.



"I patched Haze up that night, and he slept in my bed in my arms, because he was too hurt to lie down on his own." Bruce told Kal sharply. "There were bites and cuts all over him, and several of the bones in his hands were crushed. He was in absolute agony. You did that to him, you self-centred little egomaniac."



"I forgot my own strength," The other youth confessed. "I didn't intend for Haze to be hurt, it just happened. Why didn't he heal?" The voice became less confident. "After?"



"He couldn't. Losing his contact to Clark left Haze vulnerable, but he still wouldn't abandon you!" Bruce was determined to get his point across. "Haze took your knife cuts for you, and the kryptonite too, did you even know that?"







"Haze…" Kal stared at the limp form in his arms and for the first time, seemed to actually acknowledge Bruce as more than an irritation or a convenience.



"Later that night I was so tired I fell totally asleep. Edge's men found my hideout. They attacked me. They had green knives but the blades didn't even seem to knick me! I was sure that it was because I finally got rid of Clark," He looked down at the face of his dying twin. "That it had made me completely invulnerable…"



"No, just utterly insensitive." Bruce told him, ruthlessly driving the point home. The kid was just to dangerous to be allowed to run around lording it over everyone. What Kal needed was a conscience and Bruce was going to see that he got one, even if it did turn out to be the last thing he ever did.



"I thanked Haze for helping me get rid of Clark…" Kal whispered. "Then just now when I was holding him, Haze said he needed Clark. I told him, 'no'… that I wouldn't give him that."



"Haze won't need anything soon." Bruce bit down on his lip to stop himself from screaming aloud at this stupid overpowered brat. "From either of us." The anger was helping him push the other feelings back, at least for now.



"Haze?" Kal was staring wide-eyed down at the body in his arms. "His heart…"



"Stopped?" Bruce choked on the word. "Then you can't hurt him any more."



"Get away." Kal muttered. "Get the fuck away from us!" Tears welled up in his eyes, lit by the same angry fire that blazed within him. Reaching out with incredible speed he caught hold of Bruce's upper arm.



Even though the enraged youth had barely touched him, Bruce was tossed away through the air as if he weighed nothing, landing over a dozen yards away and rolling urgently to offset the force of the throw.



Winded and more than a little scared of the pent-up frustration bubbling up within the alien youth, Bruce waited, resigned. Surely it could only be a few seconds before the unearthly Fury that wore the face of his angel decided to deliver the final killing blow?







"Haze… Please!" Kal groaned. "Please don't leave me … I need you!" But there was no response from the body in his arms. "Come back to me!" Pressing his lips against those of his duplicate, he fought to breathe life back into the still form, stroking the silky hair and frantically clutching Haze's body close to his.



After a few seconds Kal seemed to realise that what he was attempting was impossible, even for him. "NO!!!" He screamed at the top of his lungs, shattering the nearby windows and filling the courtyard with harsh echoes.



"All my damn fault!" Tearing something from around his neck, Kal pulverised it with one hand, flinging the resulting handful of shiny fragments out across the courtyard. "But no more!"



Howling openly, the distraught youth cradled Haze as he wept over him, one arm looping under Haze's neck and shoulders. Bending closer he bowed his head over the angel's exposed chest, bathing the horrific wound with his freely flowing tears.



"Haze, oh god, Haze!! Haze… I should have said it sooner, Haze, I should have! I love you! Now you'll never know!" Snatching up the still form to his chest, he began to sob louder, hugging Haze to him and gasping as if his own body were broken too. The courtyard rang painfully with his heart-rending cries.



Nestled on his 'twin's' lap, Haze's body sprawled fully across the other boy's thighs. The angel's legs stretched straight out, his bare feet resting on the carefully tended lawn. His arms flopped lifelessly outwards, the limp fingers half-curled, the backs of his knuckles dipping into the lush grass.



So Kal is capable of caring for someone other than himself … Too bad the jumped-up bastard didn’t realise it sooner…



From where Bruce lay, he could clearly see as the thin line of Kal's tears trailed down along Haze's porcelain-pale arm until, inevitably, the liquid splashed down onto the blood-soaked dirt beneath the two, to mingle with the blood puddle. The air in the courtyard stilled. Static began to spark from every surface.



Frowning, Kal reacted. Snatching the body up into an intimate embrace he stared at the angry sky. "You're not taking him!" He shouted defiantly.



Before Bruce could blink, a searing thread of energy licked up out of Haze. Almost at once, before the last flicker fully died away, a massive return stroke screamed down out of the suddenly furious sky, dousing both youths in blinding light and heat.



Then there was silence.







"Kal?" Bruce managed to finally haul himself to his feet. "Kal?" His streaming eyes were filled with neon afterimages, his abused ears ringing so loudly that he could hardly hear his own voice, but that didn't stop him from staggering across the ruined lawn towards his goal.



"Batman?" A soft voice responded.



Looking down, while blinking urgently to clear his eyes, Bruce found the other youth still holding desperately tight to Haze's body.



"Why are you here?" The youth looked confused, and oddly vulnerable, hardly the arrogant alien conqueror. "Where are we?" Smoke rose from his clothes, the shirt on his back was singed and shredded, as were the visible portions of his jean legs. Skin showed through the devastated fabric, starkly pale in contrast with the carbonised cloth.



"Kal?" Bruce dropped to his knees beside the youth. "What happened? What was that?"



"Kal went away before the lightning hit us." The boy shook his head, and looked suddenly startled. "Haze?" He stared down at the body in his arms and ran hurried fingers across the blemished chest.



"Haze?! Haze, it's me!" Inching Haze into a more accessible position, he pressed his lips gently onto those of his 'twin' for a moment. "Haze, it's Clark, come back Babe, please!"



Bruce held his own breath as he waited and hoped.



"Nothing! He isn't responding, and I can't feel him." Clark looked increasingly agitated. "But his heartbeat's strong, and the bleeding has stopped." He turned to Bruce. "We have to get him out of here!"



"He's?" Bruce could not bear to believe it, in case the overwrought youth was simply delusional.



"Alive? Yes!" There was not a hint of red in those anxious eyes. "We have to hurry! Haze must be hurt pretty badly if he's not reaching for me. Unless… Can you help him?" He asked, regarding Bruce with wide eyes, his face went pale. "This wasn't me, was it? I didn't … As Kal I didn't...?" He choked on the words.



"No, it was Morgan Edge. He shot Haze." Watching the expression of mounting horror spread across the expressive face, Bruce began to half-believe that this boy could really be Clark, and not Kal any longer.



"Let me see if there's anything I can do for him?" He said, pulling off his gloves first, before carefully transferring Haze out from the arms of the other boy and onto his own lap.



Crouching, Bruce held one hand under Haze's head, pressing his fingertips onto the angel's face, and sliding the other hand onto Haze's stomach. Nervously, he waited, hoping desperately for just one more miracle.







"Haze's not breathing properly." Bruce looked to Clark, "Are you sure you found a heartbeat?" His own ears were still less than recovered and he didn't quite trust them for the finer details yet. "And that there's no more internal bleeding?"



"I can hear his heart now." Clark reassured him, his eyes narrowed. "Haze doesn't really need to breathe, so I guess that he's not bothering much about it at the moment. The wounds look sealed. What I'm worried about is that I can't feel any sense of him at all. His mind?"



"Oh." Bruce hadn't quite expected that the boy would actually be able to initiate that intimate contact with Haze. Though if this was actually Clark, then his general knowledge of Haze was less surprising. The two of them spent a great deal of time together after all.



"Did Haze…" The young man was obviously embarrassed, and terribly reluctant to even ask.



"Link with me?" Bruce took pity on the kid. "Yes. But even when we were right next to each other I couldn't feel any hint of his mind until he purposely let me."



"I wondered." The lad admitted. "Another friend of ours helped Haze heal me, but he couldn't hear Haze's mind voice either. No one has been able to but me. Maybe because we're so similar in a lot of ways?"



"Does it bother you?" Bruce wondered why it wasn't unsettling him more to be talking so easily to this youngster? "That he and I got close?"



"I guess not. Haze has the right to be with whoever he wants." Came the uneasy reply. "I'd rather he was with me, but I also want him to be happy."



Perhaps it wasn't so hard to understand why Haze had remained so hung up on Clark? Bruce grudgingly began to accept that the other kid wasn't at all what he had first seemed to be …



"Haze wants you too." Bruce didn't know why he even mentioned it, yet it was something that he felt needed to be said. "He refused to give up on getting you back."



The boy's eyes lit on him for a moment and Clark nodded. "Try and see if you can reach him? Uh, someone else found kissing worked best." He blushed as he made the suggestion, but obviously seriously intended for Bruce to try.







Tentatively Bruce let his own mouth cover Haze's, all the time aware of the other boy's eyes fixed firmly on him. The beautiful lips under his were soft and warm, but there was not the slightest response to his efforts.



"Nothing." With a heavy sigh, Bruce accepted that whatever Haze needed this time Bruce was not going to be the one to provide it either. "I think we should get Haze somewhere safe and then call in Lex and see if he can do anything for Haze." He suggested.



"Lex?" The wide eyes watching him blinked. "Uhm, Batman, how do you know about us and him?"



"I know that Lex helped Haze when Haze lost contact with you before." Bruce said simply. "Maybe Lex can do it again?" He might be ready to accept that this was Clark now and not Kal, but he was not going to just invite this particular alien kid into his private life without a bit more idea of the boy's future intentions.



"Okay. Whatever Haze needs." Clark replied earnestly.



Bruce looked over at Clark, and noticed that the kid was still kneeling on the ruined grass. "Are you alright, Clark?" He wondered. "From what I was told about you, I expected you to have been able to get up from down there, even while you were still carrying Haze."



The spectacular blush that spread across Clark's face was like watching the sun rise all over again.



"The, uh, energy bolt welded my boot soles to the floor, and unless I kick my way out of them I don't think I'm going to be able to get free. I figured that shaking myself around like that wouldn't be at all good for Haze, or for you, if you happened to be in the way. I can be a bit clumsy at times." Clark hesitantly indicated the layer of carbonised fabric that was liberally coating his knees. "Plus I don’t think that there is a lot left of my jeans, or my shirt…"



"Are you okay, though?" Bruce had to ask, as he edged back a little, taking Haze with him. "You're not hurt?" He wondered.



"Invulnerable?" Clark reminded him with a shy smile. "And that bolt burned the last of the red-K out of me, so even without Kal's co-operation I'm back to being just me."



Saying that, he broke his feet out of his ruined boots and stood on the stone floor, brushing the cremated remains of his jean legs, shirt and socks off of his bare skin. A quick glare and the few remaining shreds that still littered the burnt earth beneath him were neatly incinerated.







Bruce smiled broadly, thinking that, except for the eye-beams, this boy, with his bare tanned skin, long legs, and cut-downs, looked like something straight out of a surfing mag.



"Well, I'm glad to finally meet the real Clark Kent." He told the youth. "I've heard a lot about you."



"Haze, eh?" Clark guessed. "Well, I'm not surprised."



"How did a nice kid like you get involved with a shark like Edge?" Bruce wondered. That was one of the questions that, with all his abilities, even Haze had not been able to answer.



"I've not been all that nice lately," Clark stated calmly. "But like you said, Haze would never give up on me." Bending he lifted Haze effortlessly into his arms.



"But how did you go bad like that?" Bruce pressed.



Clark shrugged. "I thought I could stop Edge from hurting my family and Haze if I just left home." He said simply. "It didn't work. Someone in a diner slipped me some red-k and I turned Kal, then Edge persuaded Kal… Me … that it would be fun to work with him." He blushed even further as another few inches of his jeans disintegrated.



The leg ends were barely covering the upper curve of his thighs by now, and there were still plenty more of the dark flaky patches further up. The denim looked uncannily like a black lace doily.



"Short shorts could be making a comeback?" Bruce joked, getting back up while making a deliberate effort not to stare at the long legs. He knew that Haze wouldn't have minded for a second, but this kid had just demonstrated that he definitely had heat vision and it didn't seem to be a good time to test Clark's tolerance in that department.



"Really?" The dark eyebrows raised in enquiry.



"No." Bruce wasn't going to lie, not outright.



"Thought not." Clark looked around. His expression darkened suddenly. "Where's Edge?"



There was only a shred of rope left on the ground where Edge had been.







"It would be too much to hope that he was incinerated." Bruce said quietly.



"Yes. It probably would be." Clark agreed. "How were you planning on getting out of here?" He glanced around. "All of the regular exits seem to be sealed tight, and even if I knew which way Edge had taken, I wouldn’t risk using it."



"Haze was going to fly up there." Bruce nodded his head toward the high flat roof over which they had arrived, "I've got a length of monofilament fastened to the support on the top for me to climb, but I daren't take Haze up it in his condition."



"Then I'd better fly us." Clark decided. "I'm worried about Haze, he looks okay inside at the moment but what if a sudden movement restarted the bleeding?"



"Can you manage all three of us?"



"Not sure. Maybe it would be better if I took Haze up and met with you on the top?"



"Do that." Bruce found that he was completely prepared to entrust Haze to this lad. Something about Clark reminded him instantly of Haze, they both had that same open gaze.



Honest eyes. Like Jon… In fact this youth was reminding Bruce more and more of Jon Kent.



"You aren't worried? That I might simply vanish off with him?" Clark asked, cradling Haze easily against him.



"The fact that you asked is a fairly good indicator." Bruce told him as he ascended the rope with practised ease, although not with the same degree of ease that Clark was displaying as the youth rose smoothly into the air with Haze clasped in a steady embrace.







As they walked across the roof, Bruce was reminded of something. He wasn’t going to leave the kid suffering when he could help. While he had been perfectly willing to destroy Kal, all of his instincts were telling him that this boy wasn’t Kal… not any longer. "Clark?"



"Batman?"



"You weren't totally bad as Kal."



The boy blinked. "He wasn't? I mean, I wasn't?"



"You saved my life." Bruce said firmly.



Clark looked bewildered. "I did? When?"



"Don't you remember?"



"Most of what I do when I'm Kal is blurry afterwards." Clark sighed deeply. "Like a bad dream?" He suggested. "Except it seems like a pretty good dream at the time."



"They're usually the hardest to avoid." Bruce agreed with him. "But you saved me anyway, you saved Haze too."



"How?" The perplexed look was rather endearing.



"My guess is that at least part of that energy bolt originated from Haze, that it was what he had absorbed when he pulled the building down, and once he … " Bruce couldn't say it. "Once it escaped Haze's control, the accumulated energy surged out, acting like the leader stroke on a lightning strike, and summoning an answering charge from all around us. If you had given Haze over to me, I'd be the one wearing the scorch marks, and I am most definitely not invulnerable. Neither is Haze. I think you must have absorbed most of the return blast, leaving just enough to seal his wounds shut and restart his heart."



"So I did help him?" The boy looked a little brighter at that.



"I think you can safely say that you did."



"Where should we take him?" Clark asked suddenly. "I don’t know anywhere in Gotham…"



"Wayne Foundation owns a medical facility."



"No!" Clark was immediately wary.



"It's okay." Bruce reassured him. "I go there whenever someone takes a larger lump out of me than I can handle alone."



"You do?"



"Sure. They're reliable and very discreet."



Clark puzzled over that for a full minute. "I guess I never thought about how other people handle the whole hero thing." He admitted.



"Being invulnerable has its advantages, I expect?" Bruce found himself warming to this other, nicer version. Still not enough to take him home though. That could come later, once he was more certain of the kid's intentions.



"Yeah." Clark nodded, losing a little of the shyness. "I might do something like you do, when I'm older." He added. "My parents want me to go to college first though, before I make my mind up about the future."



"Smart parents." Bruce approved.



They reached the other edge of the roof. Clark stopped and hesitated.



"Something wrong?" Bruce took a quick look at the landscape. There didn't seem to be anything out of the ordinary.



Then again, the kid has X-ray eyes …







When the answer came, it wasn’t anything like Bruce was dreading.



"I used to be scared of heights." Clark confessed. "I know that it's ridiculous, and now that I can fly it shouldn't bother me, but I get to the edge and," He turned scarlet. "I just feel so stupid about it."



Bruce laughed at the idea of this hulking lad, carrying his twin in a surprisingly gentle embrace, flinching at the drop from a five-storey office block after he'd already flown up one side of it. "I'm not laughing at you." He assured Clark. "I'm just remembering the very first time I swung down off one of these things."



"And?"



"I shut my eyes." Bruce admitted. "Which wasn't a good idea, because when I landed I only just missed a very low brick wall."



"I tend to crash straight through them." Clark looked awkward. "I try and put them back together afterwards though." He added seriously.



Bruce decided that Clark really would do something like that. This was the sort of person who would climb a tree in his best suit just to rescue a savage cat, get shredded in the process, and probably also meekly take a swat around the ear from the beast's owner while trying to reunite owner and pet.



Bruce could almost picture it. "So, what are we going to do?" He looked at the furiously blushing youth. "We could just take the stairs, if you want?"



Actually he'd already revised his plans and decided that, after what he'd been through in the last hour, taking the stairs looked a lot smarter than abseiling down the face of the block on a rope. Plus, relatively few people shot at you while you were in a stairwell, compared with the face of a building, which tended to offer remarkably few hiding places. And it was full daylight now …



"No. I'm going to do this properly." Clark decided. "After all, heroes don't take the stairs, do they?"



"You'd be surprised." Bruce laughed. He flicked a control on his gauntlet. "Batmobile remote." He explained, at Clark's bemused expression. "It's on its way here now."



"Batmobile?" The youth's eyes widened. "Cool."



"I was assuming that you would want a lift to the Foundation Building? Since you probably don't know where it is?" Bruce looked at the lad.



"I was going to follow you." Clark said carefully. "I can't fly quite as well as Haze yet, but I'm getting reasonably good at it."



"Fly." Bruce thought it out. "That must be really something."



"It's awesome." Clark said softly. He stared down at the figure clasped in his arms. "At least it is when Haze does it. You've seen him fly, right?"



"Oh, yes. I've watched Haze fly several times, and gone up with him twice." Bruce told him. "But he has wings. How come you don't seem to need any?"



"I don't do it like he does, but we go flying together." Clark stated, and his expression grew softer. "Wow, is that your car?" He looked out at the sleek dark vehicle now powering smoothly along the approach road.



"Yep. Now we have to get Haze down to it." Bruce told him.



"Okay."







As Bruce watched, Clark's expression suddenly became perfectly peaceful. There was something about the boy, something almost too real, as if Clark were larger than life or else more intricately detailed than anyone else.



"You're floating…" Bruce said in wonder.



"You saw it before." Clark replied, his expression still slightly distant.



"Yeah, but I was climbing up a rope before." Bruce reminded him, "It doesn't exactly leave me a lot of time to look at the scenery."



Clark continued to cradle Haze against his chest, "You want a lift?" He asked.



Bruce gave him a sceptical glance. "You can carry both of us?"



"If you can hang on to my back." Clark smiled. "I do have my hands rather full at the moment, and I don't want to take any chances with jostling Haze, but I find it a lot easier going down."



"I'll take your word for that." Bruce said sceptically, thinking of the drop and then deciding that this kid desperately needed someone else to prove that they believed in him. And what were another few bruises anyway?



"Uhm, oh gees, I didn't mean…" Clark was immediately mortified, apparently having just realised that the statement was also open to another interpretation.



"Kid, I understood you perfectly." Bruce smiled, and walked around behind him. "Okay, get us onto the ground in one undamaged piece and I'll let you have a ride in the Batmobile."



After all, even if you don’t know it yet, your Dad got there first… He can't exactly complain about you getting the same deal.



"Really?" The enthusiasm was almost palpable. No doubt about it, this was Jon Kent's boy, adopted or not.



"I said 'ride', not 'drive'," Bruce chuckled, wrapping one arm around the boy's broad shoulders and the other around his waist. "Mind you, assuming you don't scare me out of my skin, I might be persuaded to let you have a proper spin in it, later…"