Chapter Four:
Devastation

Clark had serious misgivings about leaving Kara’s ship behind but under the circumstances, he had no other choice.

While he was certainly capable of taking the craft to the fortress, he couldn’t be certain if he could do it without half of Lowell County seeing him.  Smallville wasn’t Metropolis but Clark couldn’t discount the possibility that a handful of people may have seen the ship come down in Miller’s Field after its brief flight. Furthermore, where had it originated from in the first place?   For all he knew, it could have flown across town and removing it might result in more questions being asked than leaving it where it was.

In any case, he had more immediate concerns.

Kara was still very much in distraught state of mind. She had stopped crying but now appeared to be in shock. When Clark bundled her up in his cape, she offered no protest. She submitted to his will because the fight had bled out of her once she realized she was too late to save the people she’d left behind.  As he carried her, she felt very small in his grasp and Clark was reminded a rabbit he had found when he was thirteen. Bloody and mangled, he had found it cowering under some bushes, after being set upon by a dog.  Clark never forgot how the look of terror in its eyes despite his good intentions. Kara reminded him of that rabbit right now.

The low whine of sirens, quickly identified as emergency services vehicles of some type, reached his ears from across the distance. A quick scan with his telescopic vision confirmed which it was. Fire trucks and police cars led the convoy on route here. The local authorities would cordon off the place once they saw the ship. After that, it wouldn’t be long before the military showed too.

That is if Lex didn’t beat them to it first.

Enough of Lex’s memory, after Brainiac’s mind wipe, had remained for his former friend to maintain his predilection for the unusual. Time had not changed Lex’s obsession for alien technology or strange phenomena. Despite Clark’s falling out with Lana at not revealing the truth about Lex’s innocence at Chloe’s death, they had still enough of an understanding for the restored Mrs. Luthor to keep him apprised of Lex’s activities in this regard. Lana had sworn long ago she would keep his secret and despite their estrangement, she was still keeping that promise. Fortunately, while Lex retained memories of Milton Fine and the Black Ship, he hadn’t yet associated it with either Krypton or Superman.

Before the occupants of the approaching vehicles could catch a glimpse of him, Clark decided it was time to leave. As much as he did not like leaving the ship behind, in a choice between it and the girl, there was no contest.   At least Clark could take comfort in the fact that the ship was incapable of giving up its secrets to anyone who wasn’t from the House of El.

Leaving behind Miller’s Field, Clark also had another dilemma to confront. As much as he wanted to believe that Kara was indeed his own flesh and blood, he knew his need for connection with Krypton was a weakness easily exploitable. After all, hadn't Jor-El done the same thing? This wasn’t the first girl named Kara Clark had encountered. Of course, those circumstances were very different to this occasion. Back then, he’d been fighting his Kryptonian heritage with fibre of his being. Jor-El had been forced to resort to trickery in order for him to face it.

Now Jor-El was gone. The fortress was little more than an archive housing all Kryptonian knowledge but the sentient program that had been such a big part of Kal-El’s life was gone. Even as he debated this, he knew without doubt that the ship was from Krypton. With his enhanced vision, he’d been able to verify its authenticity.  The language on the hull was the language of his dead race and the ship reacted specifically to his DNA. Jor-El's training had left him with enough acumen to tell the difference between the real thing and a fake.

The ship was real and if the ship was real then so was the girl.

And if she was really from his bloodline, was doubting her the best way to begin their relationship? Even as he flew home, he could feel her breath against his skin, the soft shudders of stifled tears against his chest.  Kara was clearly traumatized by her abrupt awakening to find that everything and everyone she had ever known and loved was lost forever. At least Clark had the benefit of never remembering Krypton or his biological parents. What he did not know, he could not miss and Jonathan and Martha had filled that void so superbly, he never felt the loss as acutely as he should.

However, it was different for Kara. She did remember her parents. They were memories fresh in her mind as was her Argo City and its people. The realization that she was twenty years too late, to help them was devastating, even more so because her father had tricked her into making the journey.  Alone and lost on a new world with powers that ensured alienation from everyone Clark couldn't even begin to imagine how she must feel. Even at the worst moments of his youth, Clark was never isolated. He had his parents, Chloe, Pete and for a time, Lex.

Shock and grief had kept Kara from registering that they were flying and Clark wondered what preparation had she been given for life on Earth. Had Zor-El told her about the effects of the yellow sun on her physiology? Did she have any inkling about the tremendous power she now possessed?  Where Argo City had been? Did its people have powers? Despite his sensitivity to Kara’s fragile state of mind, Clark also wanted to ply her with a thousand questions. Yet as she pressed her head in the crook of his arm and wept softly to herself, the heart in his chest melted and he could not bring himself to do any of that.

After it was all said and done, Kara was just a frightened kid.

Arriving at the farm, his return was announced by the sudden tinkling of wind chimes on the porch and squeal that came from the weather vane on the roof spinning wildly.  Inside the house, curtains rustled with the sudden gust of wind that came about from his descent. No sooner than Clark had touched down on the walk before the front steps, Lois burst out through the door, with Martha following closely behind.

“What the hell Smallville?” Lois demanded in typical indignation as she marched up to him. “You scared the crap out of us, flying off like that!” Her voice was full of bluster and annoyance that Clark knew to be her worry for him. 

Instead of apologizing however, Clark stayed her outrage with a shake of his head. “Lois,” he said gently, indicating she had to calm down because there were more important things afoot. Parting his cape, he revealed Kara’s form huddled against him.  Her arms were still wrapped around his neck and she was clinging to him the way a child would cling to its mother.

 Lois fell silent immediately at the sight of the young waif Clark was holding in his arms. Right away, Lois could tell she was young. No more than fifteen by her estimation. The puffy cheeks stained with tears, the red nose and the bloodshot eyes told the reporter that the girl had been through an ordeal she had yet to recover from.

Meanwhile, Martha could only see the disconsolate expression that made her want to immediately give the girl a hug and tell her that everything was going to be okay.

“Mom, Lois, this is Kara,” Clark introduced her to two women who were staring at him, wanting answers as to how this had come about. Not wanting to launch into a lengthy explanation about Kara’s origins at the moment, Clark gave them the best abridged version he could. “I found her in Miller’s Field. She came down in a ship from Krypton.”

While Lois didn’t get the significance of the location, Martha certainly did.

Miller's Field was the place she and Jonathan had found Clark so many years ago. If a ship from Krypton was going to crash in Smallville once again, why shouldn't it pick a place that had already been used for the purpose? However, Clark’s brief statement would have to do for now.  Further explanations could wait until the girl was taken care of.  Her maternal instinct kicking in, Martha approached the girl cautiously.

“Hello Kara,” Martha said kindly, reaching for her cheek gently, “I’m Martha. You’re safe now dear. We’re going to take care of you.”

“Yeah,” Lois added her voice to mix, gratified that Mrs. Kent was taking the lead on this. Despite her burning curiosity, she was hip to Mrs. Kent's need to assuage the girl's obvious trauma. A surge of admiration filled her as she saw Martha Kent using that wonderfully reassuring voice, capable of healing wounds that might have been just too much for any child to bear.  “You can trust us Kara," Lois said offering a similar smile, "You’re going to be okay.”

Kara’s eyes touched the two women uncertainly but the warm touch of the older woman made her feel a little better. Just like mother, Kara thought until she remembered that Alura In-Zee was now gone. She had died twenty years ago along with her father, her friends Tayla and Dor-En and the rest of Argo City. The realisation that they were dead and the magnitude of the loss threatened fresh tears  she barely managed to stifle but somehow held back nonetheless. Nodding slowly to show that she understood, Kara said nothing else, too overwhelmed to comprehend anything beyond the grief she felt.

“Clark, let’s get her into the house.” Martha urged quickly, taking charge of the situation. The poor girl looked scared to death. Those tears were about more than just fear, Martha was convinced of this without hearing the whole story of how Kara had come to be on Earth. “Take her upstairs to the spare room. Lois, do you have some clothes she could wear?”  Like a general issuing orders, Martha didn't wait to get a response as she directed her son and daughter-in-law (almost) to help the new arrival in their midst.

“Yeah sure,” Lois nodded, conditioned to obey Martha Kent as much as she was to obey her father the General, especially when she was spouting orders like that. She wanted to help Kara as much as Clark and Martha but recognised that comfort and nurture was just not apart of her makeup. Rescuing studly naked aliens in cornfields she could do; this was harder.

As she bounded up the steps, Clark moved past her with a loud swoosh that had her hair blowing in all directions as he disappeared through the doors.

Sweeping her gaze across the expanse of the farm to ensure no one had seen Superman disappear into her house, Martha followed them in wondering what else the night had in store for them. 

*********

Bruce was walking around in a vacuum. 

Even though he one amongst a crowd, no sound penetrated the bubble of his thoughts. He could see people around him and occasionally one would stop and talk to him but the voice was muted and the words went unheard. It wouldn't matter even if he could hear them, at this moment words felt meaningless. As he moved through the Big Top, nothing felt quite real, the whole scene had an intangibility about it; like he was peering into someone else’s nightmare.

The burst of a camera flash bulb made him flinch and Bruce blinked once or twice to dispel the spots that danced a myriad of colours in his eyes as the brilliant flare subsided. When his vision returned to normal, his gaze followed the direction at which the camera lens was focused. The scene it captured sent fresh icicles of cold lancing through him as he stared down at the blood soaked sawdust within the circus ring.

Contrary to popular belief, there was no chalk line to indicate where the bodies had been, just a bright red stain that spread out across the ground, creating a macabre outline of their skulls after they had landed. As they had in life, the Graysons commanded the centre ring in death. All eyes were focussed where they had fallen.  

The coroner had taken away the bodies after receiving the all clear from the Forensics Team who had collected as much evidence from the Graysons as they could before spreading out to the immediate scene. Once the Graysons were away, all that was left for they to do was to catalogue every facet of the scene for analysis later. Painstakingly sifting through the detritus of the tragedy, the technicians appeared clinical and unaffected despite the tragedy affecting everyone else. Bruce admired their detachment.

Cops were spread out through the room, carrying out a multitude of duties, their blue uniforms giving the chaos some foundation. They were cordoning off the scene, keeping the audience in the tent and away from the crime scene, some were taking eye witness statements while others tried to hold back the media frenzy outside the Big Top. Reporters, photographers, the full brazen cadre of the fourth estate were demanding entry, enemies at the gate who wanted their big story.

The folk of Haly's Circus was nowhere that animated.  While they were being interviewed, their colourful costumes a vulgar contrast to the sorrow he saw on their faces. There was no doubt as to how profoundly affected they were by what had gone on here tonight. Their faces ran the gamut of shock, horror and grief as they came to grips with the loss of two were more than just colleagues and friends but rather family. Bruce didn't think he was influenced by some Hollywood cliché or a romanticism regarding carnival life. It was the truth. He could see it in the anguish of the faces before him.

Bruce was moving through the proceedings like a ghost, present but affecting nothing. He only paused when he saw he caught sight of Commissioner Jim Gordon talking to the boy. Little Robin Redbreast who'd fly no more. 

The child was sitting on a hay bale, perhaps even the same one that he had been perched on when Bruce had spoken to him earlier that evening.  It felt like a lifetime ago now. Jim had put a blanket around his small, slumped shoulders and was drying his wet cheeks with a checked handkerchief. The scene could have been a snapshot from almost twenty years ago when Gordon had comforted another boy who's world was similarly shattered.

For what could be the first time in his life, Bruce thought he was going to be sick.

He had to walk away to a secluded corner of the tent and pull himself together because he didn't want to be seen like this. Crushing the sick that wanted to crawl up his throat, Bruce told himself that he had dealt with this a long time ago. He couldn't be the Bat and do what he had to, if he couldn't get a handle on his emotions. Yet Bruce knew he was not made of stone. He did feel and sometimes there were people who broke through his defences to show him just how much apart of the human race he still was, despite his best efforts to deny the fact. People, like Alfred, Clark, Lois, Diana and of course Chloe. 

And now it seemed this boy. 

This boy who would go through all the things he had, who would cry the same tears and feel the same anguish and rage at being unable to understand the violence done to him. He would begin his holy war against Fate and stumble in the dark for a path to follow, a path that could make him an even worse monster than those who had harmed his parents or make him something to celebrate their life.  Bruce saw all this in front of the boy and knew he wanted something better for young Dick Grayson.

Uncertain of what was in his mind, Bruce approached Jim and the boy, listening closely.

 "...its going to be alright son," Jim's kind voice said.

No it wasn't, Bruce rejected silently, its never going to be alright ever again. The shattered look in the boy's eyes said as much. Still, Bruce couldn't deny the affection he felt for Jim Gordon at the moment, the good man who had been there for him the night his parents were murdered, whose strength of character were things to aspire too, even more than the pageantry of the Bat.

"Commissioner," Bruce cleared his throat.

Jim looked over his shoulder, annoyed at the interruption but then his expression softened because he remembered who he was talking to. Not just the wastrel billionaire who appeared as if he didn't have a single, sensible thought in his head but once upon a time, a child who had lost his parents the way young Dick Grayson had. When he stood up, he saw in Bruce Wayne's usual vapid face, the same anguished expression of twenty years ago. Dick's tragedy  had affected him on a very personal level and Jim forgot all about the man's  history after that day.

"Mr. Wayne," Jim eyed him with concern, having no heart to be impatient with the man right now, even if this was not the time for an interruption. Dick was the one who'd lost his parents tonight.

Bruce was accustomed to Jim referring to him as 'Mr. Wayne' before this but tonight, it felt wrong. The formality of it didn't fit the occasion at all.

"Is there...anything that I can do...to help?" Bruce asked, the words escaping him in an uncharacteristic stammer that Gordon recognised for what it was.

Jim felt a wave of sympathy for Bruce then, understanding why the man was here, how connected he must feel to young Dick Grayson at this moment. He supposed if there was anyone who understood what Dick Grayson was feeling right now, it was Bruce Wayne. Jim wasn't blind to the parallels between the two right now and thought that perhaps the man could help a little.

Stepping away from he boy, who barely noticed their departure, Jim led Bruce a few feet away and spoke in a quiet voice to prevent Dick from  hearing them, if the boy was in the mind to eavesdrop which Jim didn't think he was. "Could you stay with him awhile? I can get one of my  cops to do it but I think you might be better for the job."  He didn't have to elaborate why. "We're going to have to arrange somewhere for him to stay tonight. He doesn't have any family and due to the nature of the crime, he can't stay at the Circus. Unfortunately, its going to have to be Child Services." 

The thought made Bruce's jaw clench so hard, it was surprised that Jim didn't hear it through the chatter under the Big Top. Without even considering what was coming out of his mouth, Bruce found himself speaking. "Jim, he can stay at the manor for the night. At least until you decide what comes next. His first night without them shouldn't be....at Child Services."

Jim stared. He hadn't expected that much insight from Bruce, not based on his impressions of the man since reaching adulthood. The idea was a good one because Wayne Manor had all kinds of security that would ensure the press got nowhere near the boy. Child Services seemed like a cruelty to inflict upon the boy after what had happened tonight and he knew Alfred Pennyworth. The butler had kept in touch with Jim Gordon after the murder of Thomas and Martha Wayne, letting Jim know how young Bruce was doing as well as getting updates on Joe Chill's parole hearings.  If Bruce was an uncertainty, Alfred Pennyworth certainly was not.

However, Jim still had his reservations, "Mr. Wayne, I don't know if that's a good idea."

"Jim," Bruce found himself using a tone that the man would have found familiar on another occasion. He knew he shouldn't but tonight, Bruce wasn't as in control as he should be. "I've been where he is right now. Both me and Alfred."

Jim’s eyes met his immediately. A flicker of recognition appeared in them before it subsided. His expression went from hard to sympathetic in a brief moment of exchange before he nodded, " I guess you do.” Exhaling loudly, Jim nodded. “Alright Mr. Wayne, he can go with you tonight but I'll need him at the precinct tomorrow morning and we'll have to decide a more permanent settlement for him."

" I understand," Bruce answered, gears already turning in his head.

*******

A few seconds later, Bruce found himself dropping to his knees in front of Dick Grayson, heart clenching at the sight of fresh tears running down the boy's cheeks. Bruce felt fresh rage at the act of brutality which made that happy, charming child of earlier into this frail, broken boy.  

"Hello Dick," Bruce said gently.

Dick raised his chin at the voice and met Bruce's gaze. "Mis....Mister Wayne."  He stuttered, his lower lip trembling.

He was so young. Bruce found it hard to believe that he too, had been that young once, that devastated. "We're friends Dick, you can call me Bruce."

Dick Grayson nodded mutely, looking at Bruce with blue eyes filled with anguish and fear. "My mom and dad...." he stuttered, "they....they....fell."

Bruce blinked, feeling his emotions well up hearing that tiny voice making that childlike admission. "I know," he nodded. "I'm so sorry Dick." He said touching the small shoulder.

"They....they...never fall. Not...not even at practice...why....why did they fall?" Dick demanded, needing answers, confusion etched in his face as he tried to wrap his mind around how it had happened.

"I don't know," Bruce answered and hated that he had to lie. He had heard enough to know that the ropes holding the trapeze that hadn't just given way, they had been cut. However, Dick wasn't ready to hear the word 'murder' associated with his parents’ death. That would come soon enough. "No one has the answers yet. It will take a few days for them to know for sure."

"What...what...about me?" Dick asked, sniffling loudly with fear exuding from every pore. "Can I stay with the circus?"

"No," Bruce shook his head slowly. " I'm afraid not Dick. Until they know what happened to your parents, you can't stay here."

Anguish became despair and he burst out, a litany of childish fears passing his lips as he stared at Bruce, needing help and not knowing how to get it. "But...I don't know...anyone...else... we never had...a real... home...I don't have any uncles...or aunts...or grandparents. Everyone I know is here!" He looked around the circus. " I don't want to go away where I won't see Mr. Haley and my friends!"

More anything Bruce wanted to tell him that he was going to be safe but that wasn't a promise he was prepared to make. "No one's going to stop you from seeing them," Bruce assured him but you can't stay here tonight. Not until the police figure out what happened tonight."

Dick didn't look like he understood as he sniffled again, wiping away his tears with the back of his hand. However, he nodded, resigned to the fact that was going to happen to him was going to take place whether he had a say or not. That defeat nearly broke Bruce's heart.

"Dick," Bruce drew in a breath and asked, "would you like to come home with me? Just for tonight? I promise I'll bring you straight back here as soon as they tell me its okay too. If that's what you want."

The offer caught the boy off guard and he stopped sniffling, looking at Bruce as if he were seeing the man for the first time. Mr. Wayne didn't tell him everything was going to be okay, he seemed to tell Dick the truth. He'd only met Bruce tonight but there was something in the way the man spoke to him that gave Dick the sense that Bruce might be okay, that he understood what Dick was feeling. That saying he'd feel better wouldn't make it so.

Nothing would make it better. Not ever again.

Hesitantly, Dick nodded. The momentary pause between sobs had ended and the pain swelled up inside him again, forcing the grief to completely overwhelm his emotions.  With nowhere else to go, the despair escaped him in loud wracking sobs and as dam broke, the torrent of anguish drove him to wrap his small arms around his new friend's neck.

He didn't even notice when Bruce Wayne hugged him back.

******

Lex felt perfectly justified in his fury when he and Lana finally arrived at Miller’s Field.

A small crowd of onlookers had formed at the perimeter of the property, held back by a mixture of LexCorp security and a dwindling number of Smallville deputies. Emergency vehicles that had rushed to the scene in anticipation of wreckage and casualties had been assured that nothing so calamitous had taken place and the crash had not resulted in any deaths or damage. His PR people had concocted an appropriately acceptable story that had them on their way once they had verified the details.

The ‘official’ story was LexCorp was testing a prototype military drone that had gotten away from them.

Accustomed to Luthor eccentricities over the years, the explanation satisfied the local authorities who were happy to hold the line until a LexCorp’s retrieval team could arrive to remove the drone themselves. In an effort to minimize the risks of their cover story being blown, LexCorp didn’t any waste time arriving on site and were in place in less than thirty minutes. A security team led by Shaw Madison, a former LuthorCorp, now LexCorp employee, had erected barricades around the ship to ensure the public did not get too close a look at the thing.

Despite the spin however, there was no denying the situation which should have been a covert night time operation had degenerated into a fully-fledged fiasco.

Lex had managed to keep secret that a handful of LexCorp employees had lost their lives that night because Dr. Groll had prematurely activated the ship when he came into contact with it. Lex had recalled Fine having some kind of security in place that kept the craft from being tampered with and Groll should have known better. The doctor was presently recuperating in a LexCorp medical facility but Lex wished he could say the same for the men on the boat who had been caught in the ship’s engine burn to fatal consequences.

Driving themselves to the site, Lex and Lana arrived at Miller’s Field to find LexCorp Security politely giving the local authorities leave to go. As the ship had been deemed LexCorp property, there was no need for the deputies to remain. As they departed, Lex heard some of the policemen advising the bystanders to go home. Of course, a downed aircraft, especially a prototype one, was bound to draw substantial interest in a small town. As long as the locals remained behind the barricades, Lex saw no reason for his security team to get heavy handed.

It would only imply they had something to hide. Which they did.

“Mr. Luthor, Mrs. Luthor,” Shaw Madson greeted them when they stepped across the barriers and proceeded towards the ship. The area around the craft was illuminated by strobes of light radiating from hastily erected outdoor lighting.

“What’s the situation?” Lex demanded as Shaw led them towards the ship.

Lana swept her gaze across the landscape and saw that the tall grass had been crushed into the dirt thanks to the heavy vehicles that had been traipsing across the field in the last hour. The ship itself had ploughed deep grooves into the ground, leaving clumps of grass and earth in two long lines behind it. The heat from the craft had created a thin veil of steam across the ground and made even more spectral by the bright glare of the lights.

“The locals bought our cover story,” Shaw explained. “We’ve told them that we had some kind of guidance system failure. We implied that LexCorp technicians were able to bring it down in the field to keep it from crashing into a populated area and there could be some possibility of radiation leakage.”

“Is there any such leakage?” Lana asked, concerned not only for herself and Lex but also because Miller’s Field was surrounded by several other working farms and she did not wish to see those properties contaminated.

“Not to any level that could be considered dangerous, Mrs. Luthor,” he answered. “We’ve had our technicians go over the ship for any such indications, just to be safe.” He assured her.

“Are the engines still running?” Lex asked as he saw the silhouette of the ship appear in the distance. There seemed to be no signs of it from his initial observation but he wasn’t a scientist.

“No,” Shaw shook his head, repeating the data given to him by the technicians, “the ship is completely inert now except for one thing.”

“What?” Lex demanded, shooting him a hard stare. This whole situation had escalated so beyond his comfort levels that he did not want to imagine something worse could happen. As it was, he was grateful that Lana was taking it the way she was, that she was proving true to her word that they were partners in this.

Shaw couldn’t meet their eyes and said simply, “Its better if you look for yourself.”

That didn’t sound good, Lana thought and exchanged a glance with Lex as the technicians surrounding the ship stepped aside to give them an unobstructed view of the craft.

Lana let out a soft gasp, immediately revisited by images from seven years ago when she had first seen the Black Ship. It was almost exactly alike in design, except this one had a red tinge to its hull rather than being wholly black. Upon seeing her reaction, she felt Lex’s fingers around hers and she looked down to see him looking at her with concern. A soft smile crossed her lips to reassure him she was alright before she faced front again.

The ship sat in the middle of the field and as Shaw stated earlier, showed no signs of life. The hull which had been illuminated to a bright red when its engines had ignited was now a dull, ashy colour. Even the symbols splayed across the hull were barely discernible now. However, Lana knew immediately that it wasn’t this that had concerned Shaw so much but rather what was revealed by the open hatch.

It was the hatch to the cockpit and its occupant was gone.

Now it was Lex’s turn to have his breath catch in his throat and standing next to him, Lana shared his concern. She knew what he was thinking of when he saw that empty cockpit. The Black Ship had unleashed Milton Fine into the world, an alien whose intent was to remake the Earth in the shape of another world, to prepare it for domination by his master, Zod. For Lex, Fine was still at large. He knew nothing of Brainiac’s destruction by Superman because Lana’s promise to Clark prevented her from revealing the truth to him. So she could imagine what was in his mind at this moment.

Did this ship belong to Fine as well and was it him that emerged from it?

TO BE CONTINUED