Chapter Five:

Overwhelmed

"Well she's asleep," Martha announced as she descended the staircase to join Clark and Lois  at the dining table where the couple were putting away the remnants of the half eaten Thanksgiving meal.

After taking Kara upstairs, it became clear that the person she was most comfortable with was not her cousin from Krypton but his adopted mother. This did not surprise Clark in the slightest. Martha’s kind and gentle nature was just the tonic needed by a young girl who had woken up to find her own mother gone. When it became clear that it was Martha that Kara responded best to, Clark and Lois withdrew, allowing Martha to care for Kara without overwhelming her with too many new faces.

“She’s still pretty shaken but at least I got her to rest. She’s emotionally exhausted,” Martha explained and lowered herself unto one of the chairs at the dining table.

“She’s had a rough time,” Clark commented as he retreated to the kitchen and started brewing Martha a cup of tea, heating the water with his heat ray vision.  He had no doubt that the comment was seriously underestimating the extent of Kara’s ordeal.  “As far as she’s concerned, she’s only left Argo a couple of hours ago, not twenty years.”

"The poor kid," Lois shook her head as she sat down across the table from Martha. "She must be scared out of her mind.”

Trying to empathize with Kara, Lois imagined what it was like to wake up one morning and find your entire world turned upside down.  She reached for Martha’s hand and squeezed it, a gesture of affection for the woman’s ability to soothe Kara’s fears. Not for the first time, Lois thought on how fortunate little Kal-El was to have been found by the Kents when he first arrived on Earth.

Then again, the Kents had welcomed a number of strays to their home over the years.

While Martha had been upstairs with Kara, Lois and Clark had the chance to talk about Kara. Was she really from Krypton? Was Clark absolutely sure on that? Her journalistic instincts made her incapable of simply accepting Kara’s story on face value and she wanted to make sure that Clark’s need for connection to Krypton did not affect his judgement regarding the truth of Kara’s origins.

Fortunately, it appeared Clark had also similar suspicions since it wasn’t the first time a girl named Kara had come to the Kent farm. Years ago, Jor-El had tricked him by sending a girl named Kara to the farm, claiming to be of Krypton. While he had learned that girl was called Lindsey Harrison, it was telling that Jor-El had chosen to name her Kara. Had Jor-El chosen that name to represent his brother’s daughter? That was too much of a coincidence for Clark to ignore, coupled with the authenticity of the ship she had come from. Besides, Clark did intend to take Kara to the fortress eventually. Right now however, it was more important to help her adjust to her new situation on Earth.

In the end, Lois silenced her concerns because she trusted Clark to make the right decision. If he said Kara was from Krypton, then so be it.

"There's that," Martha agreed with Lois about how frightened Kara was as Clark put a cup of tea in front of her. Giving him an appreciative smile, Martha continued speaking a moment later when Clark returned with coffee for himself and Lois. "And the fact that she's lost her family and friends. She didn't say very much but I managed to get that from her. Kyrptonian or not, at the end of the day she's a teenager who's lost everything she ever knew. That's a terrible shock to the system."

Clark didn’t disagree since that was the same story Kara had told him when he first found her in that ship. “I don’t think it helped that she thought she was coming here to help this Argo City. Her father told her to come find Jor-El. When she saw m that’s who she thought I was. I guess I must look like him,” Clark commented, drifting off for a moment as the realisation solidified in his brain.

Clark was so accustomed to thinking as Jor-El as the disembodied voice that had plagued throughout his youth, that it was jarring to think of him as a person let alone that they shared the same genetic material. It made him sad to think all that was left of Jor-El for Clark to know was a program that depicted none of the man’s warmth but only his intellect.

Noting his pensive gaze, Lois nudged his foot lightly under the table, a tiny gesture to tell him that she was here for him. Wanting to propel the discussion past that sombre pause, Lois made an attempt to get back on topic.

“Why would her father lie to her though?” She asked, not really expecting an answer although Martha had one to give.

“If I wanted my child to leave without me, I’d be willing to tell that lie,” Martha replied without hesitation. She knew herself that if it she was given the choice to save Clark, she would have made that choice a dozen times over. There was nothing a parent would not do to preserve the life of their child. On that point, Martha understood Zor-El  clearly.  “It looks like going above and beyond seems to run in the family,” she gave Clark a little smile. “Kara’s father was just as determined to save her as Jor-El was about you.”

Clark  could not refute Martha’s statement and added, “It makes sense. Kara said that her father was able to save their city after Krypton's was destroyed. Somehow, it lived for five years  until people starting to get sick.”

“I thought once they were away from their native star system, Kryptonians were pretty invulnerable. Everyone that you’ve run into on Earth seems to be that way.” Lois pointed out, having read Clark’s journal of his experiences with Jor-El and Krypton some years ago. “I mean I’m no science geek but they couldn’t keep the city in the system would they? I mean if we’re thinking about a Cloud City type scenario.”

Clark smiled faintly by her description but couldn’t give her a definitive answer. “I didn’t get that much detail from Kara about Argo but I can’t imagine they would be able to stay there. There would have been too much debris. It wasn’t just Krypton that was destroyed but Rao, their sun.”

“Clark,” Martha said ominously, a dark thought forming in her head. “What if the city was built on part of Krypton and it left the system?”

The realisation came upon him so hard and sharply, he stiffened in horror.

“Oh no,” he exclaimed softly, “it would have turned to kryptonite.”

Remembering how agonising it was just to be in proximity of the stuff for just a few minutes, Clark could not imagine being trapped indefinitely with that radiated material underfoot. Even though they had died twenty years ago, Clark suddenly appreciated how terrible it must be for Kara to know that she had been unable to help any of them, how helpless she must now feel because he felt the same frustration.  

"Those poor people,” Lois shook her head, trying to come to grips with all those lives lost and feeling for the two remaining survivors who could do nothing but mourn them.

“He must have known,” Martha said, feeling the emotion well up in her eyes. “That’s why he sent her away, it was the only way to save her, to get her away from it.”

“I’m glad you found her,” Lois said reaching for Clark’s hand and squeezing it. “But now that she’s here? What comes next? I mean she has your powers right?”

Clark hadn’t even thought that far ahead. He knew she hadn’t reacted to him flying them here but then again, she had been fairly distraught at the time. However, it wouldn’t be long if those powers manifested themselves and he knew from first hand experience how overwhelming that could be.

“She will,” he nodded. “I’ll have to help her with that but I don’t know how long it will take for it to show up. I mean most of my powers didn’t come all at once. I mean some things were always there...” he mused and then turned to his mother as she’d know better than him when he’d first started to show his abilities. “Mom?”

Martha couldn’t help but smile a little because she’s remembered everything about Clark’s formative years. She remembered the first day they brought him home. How he’d broken through playpens and smashed toys without meaning to. The first time, they’d taken him to get vaccinations (at a clinic out of town), he had bent the needles and when he started walking, they’d learned how fast he could be. When he started to run, it ended up with Martha and Jonathan chasing after him through the cornfields with the truck just to keep up with him.

“The strength and invulnerability were there from the first day,” Martha replied, “the speed came a little later, when you started walking.  A lot of your other powers, developed in High School, the super hearing, the x-ray vision and then there was the heat vision, remember that?” Martha glanced at him, a little mischief dancing in her eyes.

Lois saw Clark actually blush.

"Lois doesn't need to hear about that," Clark dropping his gaze to the coffee in his mug.

“What?” Lois stared at Martha and saw the older woman suppressing a smirk. “Oh come on, you’ve got to tell me now.” She nudged Clark.

“Its nothing really,” Clark cleared his throat and explained the details of how his first experience with heat ray vision had appeared when he had encountered Desiree Atkins, an extremely attractive and ultimately homicidal substitute teacher.

Lois laughed out loud.

Clark made a face at her and gruffed, “alright, alright, it’s not that funny.”

“Actually it kind of is,” Lois couldn’t help it and continued to snigger until Martha swatted her lightly on the shoulder to make her stop.  “Okay, okay, so Kara might have some time before it all hits her?” She said getting back on the subject again.

“I think so,” Clark said uncertainly. “It took me years to get used to it but I was only a kid, she’s a teenager, it might be different. I’ve got to help her though this.”

“Well you’re the only one who can,” Martha agreed. “You know what’s coming and she’s going to have a hard enough time adjusting to being on Earth as well as these powers.”

“Mom, I know it’s a lot to ask but she needs to stay here.” Clark said looking apologetically at Martha. “I’d take her to Metropolis with me and Lois but she’s too exposed out there...”

“Honey,” Martha stopped him from going any further. “Of course she can stay here and honestly, I think it’s a good idea that she does. She’s scared and alone. A big city is going to be very overwhelming for her right now. She can stay here and get her bearings a little. You can come home and teach her about her powers on the farm.”

“Thanks mom,” Clark leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.

Lois was about to comment when she saw the flickering images on the television set which was still on but on mute. Her eyes widened when she saw Bruce’s image on the screen.

“Clark,” Lois stood up immediately and walked over to the set, picking up the remote to turn the sound back on.

“What?” He asked and followed her gaze.

“....sources claim the police have not ruled out foul play. The Flying Graysons were well known throughout the country as the best flying trapeze act in the business. With their young son, Dick Grayson, John and Mary Grayson were the only trapeze artists capable of performing the quadruple somersault. Halys Circus had been performing at a charity event sponsored by the Wayne Foundation to raise funds for Gotham City Orphanage.”

The commentary was followed by an image of Bruce making a beeline for his limousine, escorted a young boy with a look of utter devastation on his face.

Those who knew him saw Bruce looking almost the same.

*****

What are you doing?

What do you think you are doing?

This isn't a puzzle or a crime to be solved,  this is a child.

For someone who had steered most of his life towards a predestined course, Bruce Wayne found himself navigating through uncharted waters with dangerous currents he had no power to predict. Every part of his adult life was carefully considered with an outcome was never in doubt. Bruce made his decisions based on quantifiable data, an ability to play the probabilities and absolute faith in his ability to push himself beyond the limits he set for himself.  He had learned the hard way, what happened when you gambled and after he had lost Chloe, he had sworn he’d never assume anything again

And yet as he carried Dick Grayson in his arms, an eight year old boy who had wrapped his thin arms around neck and allowed himself to be carried like a child, Bruce knew he was acting from a place he seldom gave time of day, his gut. Dick’s situation that spoke to him on such a fundamental level had touched Bruce more than he’d care to admit.  Here was a child, whose pain mirrored his own terrible night and something in Bruce wanted to make it better for Dick. There had to be something of value in being there before that would give him the insight on how to help this boy.

Dick had held up as they were ushered to the limousine through the chaos of exploding camera flashes, microphones thrust in his direction by reporters demanding their pound of flesh, none who seemed to possess the decency to leave the boy to his grief. It was only after they were safely in the stretched limousine, driving away from the media circus that made Haly’s pale in comparison that Bruce saw his resolve crumble and he had started crying again.

He'd buried his face in Bruce's chest and wept, each sob driving needles of heartbreak through the older man. Seeing Dick’s profound sorrow made Bruce remember his own. However, he also remembered how Alfred had consoled him and put a comforting arm around the boy’s slight shoulders and pulled him into a hug, letting Dick’s anguish bleed into fabric of his Brioni tuxedo.

At that moment, Bruce wished Diana was here. She’d know what to say to the child. She had that way about her, the calm, nurturing warmth that might have come from Gaea itself. It radiated from her like the sun. People never caught on to the fact that the most beautiful thing about Diana not her appearance but rather her kind, compassionate soul. Right now, Bruce thought Dick might have benefited from her presence.

By the time they arrived at the Manor, Dick had stopped crying but he clung to Bruce because he was eight years old and right now, he had no one else. It hurt to see the boy so broken, so wounded and Bruce was almost grateful when he saw Alfred waiting for them at the front steps. When they arrived at the manor, Bruce saw Alfred was already waiting at the front steps for them and didn’t have to ask if the man had seen the new coverage of the accident.

Alfred opened the door for them as soon as the limousine stopped. As Bruce carried Dick out of the car, Alfred retrieved the small bag that had been packed for the boy before he left the circus and then gave the driver his leave to depart.  Only when the vehicle was rumbling down the crushed gravel of the mansion’s driveway, did Bruce address the old butler. “Alfred, this is Dick, he’ll be staying with us tonight.”

Even as he said those words, something told Bruce that wasn’t going to be true.

"How do you do Master Dick," Alfred greeted very properly, prompting Dick to peer past Bruce's shoulder to take a peek. "You must be chilled, let's get you covered up shall we?" Alfred said wrapping  the blanket draped across his arm around Dick's shoulders.

"Thank you Alfred," Bruce said and realised he was thanking the older man for more than just the blanket. This evening had been a revelation not just because of Dick but for the first time, Bruce could appreciate what Alfred had felt that night when he was brought home after his parents’ murder. The man was probably experiencing a sense of deja vu.

Their eyes touched and Alfred acknowledged the thanks with a little nod he got back to the business at hand.  “Master Bruce, I’ve prepared a room Master Dick,” he said turning on his heels and leading the way up the manor steps. “I thought it prudent that it be situated close to your room, just in case.”

The boy wasn't going to sleep well tonight; that was a given. Even if he did, Alfred didn’t imagine it would be a restful sleep. The boy had seen his parents die and that image was going to plague him as merciless in slumber as it would in his waking hours. Certainly that was how it had been for Bruce and it had been worse for Bruce who was convinced the murder of Thomas and Martha Wayne was his fault.  It had taken Alfred weeks to coax that information out of him and the butler doubted he had ever really managed to convince Bruce that it wasn't the truth.

Little was said as they took Dick upstairs. The child had cried himself out and now was simply exhausted.  Like all the rooms at Wayne Manor, this one was similarly large and opulent. It contained a four poster bed and the accompanying pieces of furniture that sat on an expensive Persian rug, surrounded by pieces of artwork that should be in a museum. The adjoining ensuite came with brass fittings and expensive marble tiles.

Too extravagant for a child, Bruce thought and felt a wave of embarrassment at having to place Dick there because this kind of luxury seemed vulgar in the face of what he lost.

Alfred had warmed the room and drawn the covers, dimming the lights to make it look less foreboding. The old butler stood back and let Bruce deal with his young charge, watching in silent contemplation.

Bruce lay Dick against the sheets and drew the covers over him. Dick rolled over, back facing his new benefactor, curled up in a little ball.  The boy wanted to shut the world out for awhile and deal with his pain, Bruce could relate.  

“I’ll have Alfred bring you some cocoa,” Bruce offered. “He makes it pretty good.”  Bruce knew this from experience. “Are you hungry?”

Dick shook his head in response.

“Alright,” Bruce said taking the hint that he ought to leave the boy alone for now. “If you need anything, I’m just down the hall.”

Another slight nod followed.

Bruce sighed and left the room, not knowing what else to do.

******

“He says he’s not hungry,” Bruce told Alfred after he shut the door behind him and drew away from the room.

“I’ll fix him something light anyway,” Alfred replied not to be deterred. “Young boys are often hungrier than they think.”

They walked a few more feet with Bruce saying nothing, deep in thought and unaware that Alfred was observing him closely. For the first time in years, Alfred realised Bruce had no idea where to go next. It was obvious to the old butler why Bruce had brought Dick home. However, Bruce was not one to act purely on instinct. He’d become slave to his logic and his control over the years and while there were glimmers of humanity in his interactions with Miss Diana, Mr. Kent and Miss Lane, he had never been as wholly human as he’d been with Chloe Sullivan.  Now Bruce had brought this boy home who didn’t need a Batman to help him but someone who had understood his pain on an intimate level.

“Master Bruce,” Alfred finally broke the silence, “what do you intend by this?”

“I don’t know,” Bruce answered honestly, trying to make sense of the action he had taken tonight. “I saw him up there, looking at them, seeing them dead and I knew I had to take him away from all that, I had to protect him.”

“Protect him, Master Bruce?” Alfred eyed him. “Protect him from what?”

“From what comes next. He doesn’t have anyone else Alfred,” Bruce declared, like he was trying to convince not just Alfred but himself. “He’s alone. I couldn’t stand the thought of him going to foster care. I just wanted to take him away...to make it easier for him...somehow.”

“Master Bruce,” Alfred said kindly, “you know better than anyone that nothing can make it easier.”

“I know,” Bruce answered with a sigh before continuing “but there was so much rage in me for so long. It was unfocussed and feeding on itself if I didn't do something about it. I couldn’t breathe for how angry I was. That kind of anger can take you to dark places Alfred.  I know because I’ve been there. I don’t want that for him.  What I went through, there has to be some reason for all that pain, something more than just me being Batman. If there’s chance I can make it better for him, I have to try.”

******

The only thing that Grace disliked more than the city was the country.

Her nose curled with the stench of what she was certain was an animal by-product of some kind. Probably dung, she thought. The country air reeked of it and despite her best efforts to keep the windows on her car up, the pervasive odour filtered through her vehicle and was probably stuck to her clothes now. It was a scent she abhorred, one that screamed the natural world, raw and unprocessed, not to mention lacking design or purpose. In a word; undisciplined.

The country crystalized the worst aspect of the Earth; its lack of order.

Not like home with its machinery perfection. Every creature apart of a grand plan, a perfect engine of purpose, working to a common goal. There was no indecision, no scattershot thinking, just a singular understanding of one’s place in the order of things. No one in her world questioned their existence. No one was presumptuous enough to dare. God was in their midst and he had only one expectation of them that could not be doubted.

Obedience.

After she’d been given the order by Godfrey that Granny's best would be arriving soon to take charge of the search, she chosen to track the signal back to its source. Grace had driven out of Metropolis, using technology far beyond Earth's primitive capabilities to lead her to her Kryptonian prize. If she could locate it first, then perhaps she could tell Godfrey that they didn't need the Swan to track the ship.  Granny's Furies were not trained to be subtle and Grace couldn't see any outcome where they could do so without alerting the Kryptonian.

The signal led her Lowell County and Smallville, the name given to the rural backwater located in the heart of the area the ship had purportedly come down. Surrounded by cornfields, farmers and dung, Grace supposed that there were worse places on Earth that the ship could have elected to land. However, she wished it was not so populated. Thanks to her monitoring of the police band, Grace was able to pinpoint the exact location of the craft's descent. Unfortunately the method by which she had come by this information ensured her that other parties would surely be involved to complicate the situation.

As it stood, the ship had been seen by numerous people as it flew across Lowell County. Enough so that the police and appropriate emergency services had been alerted by terrified phone calls were now mobilised to act. Reports from the public and eye witness sightings had given the authorities enough information to follow the ship to its crash site. Thus were soon approaching the ship with enough fanfare to ensure the presence of locals so that when she reached Miller's Field, there was a decent sized crowd in attendance.

She parked her SUV at the top of a hill frames by more damn corn, to ensure she could observe what was happening without being seen herself. Her mission on Earth required she remained unseen as there was a grander scheme at play. Its success demanded the maintenance of that secret. Her anonymity that would almost certain be destroyed if Granny's Furies weren't given a specific target to hunt.

She was also mindful of the possibility that this commotion might bring the Kryptonian. After all, this was a ship from his destroyed home world. Why wouldn't he investigate?  The same signal that had brought the craft to her attention would have surely reached him. It puzzled Grace why he hadn’t appeared to claim it?  Brainiac had stated that the ship held something of vital importance to her master and the Kryptonian had destroyed the ancient AI, possibly because he knew what it was. If so, then where was he?

Grace frowned as she saw a new set of vehicles appear and these were definitely not attached to the local authorities. One of the large, semi-trailers was emblazoned with a logo she knew all well from her association with Braniac. LexCorp. Of course, she'd known it when the company was called LuthorCorp and Brainiac had been impersonating Lionel Luthor who he'd murdered five years before. Since the destruction of the Construct, the son had been released from prison and had systematically began the process of reclaiming the company, beginning with its new self-aggrandizing moniker.

Once LexCorp personnel had arrived, she noted the slow departure of the local authorities. Men in dark suits and stern faces took the place of the cops from the sheriff’s department and began ushering away the gawkers. In less than an hour after the arrival of Luthor and his wife, there was no longer anyone in Miller's Field who didn't have a right to be. Whatever they intended, LexCorp had no attention of tolerating an audience doing it.

Damn, she cursed.

She was too late. Even as she watched them, she knew that they were going to move the ship and hide it somewhere she’d most likely never have access to, not without the help of the Furies. Any chance of subtlety being employed would be gone. The Furies would lay waste to everything to achieve their goals and their methods meant a lot of collateral damage. Her suspicion was confirmed when she saw the heavy machinery roll onto the scene. Realising that time was not on her side, Grace conceded to the fact that she had to contact Godfrey and tell them that they needed the Furies now.

******

Less than an hour later, in the middle of the empty field not far away from Miller's Field and certainly out of sight of any other living soul in the vicinity, Grace waited for the arrival of her master's elite warrior force. She did not have to do so for long. Once she had transmitted her location, she knew that it would be a short time before they arrived. She'd sought out the most remote location she could find to transmit and now sat on the hood of her car among the stalks of corn, bracing herself.

She could tell immediately when the portal began to form. The air became charged with electricity. She could almost smell the heavy, burning smell that preceded the lightshow that would bridge two worlds. The explosion was loud enough to flatten all the vegetation around it. Heat and concussive force had cleared the land in a second and out of the rippling circle of energy hanging in mid air, stepped three figures shrouded in the radiating light of the wormhole.  Even from minimum safe distance, Grace could tell who Granny had sent.

The first, a tall, statuesque woman covered almost head to toe in a duraskin bodysuit armoured in all the appropriate places, was Lashina. She wore a helmet that allowed only her eyes to be seen. Clinging to her belt were the weapons that had earned Lashina her name. Lash, as she was called, was known to Grace was the field leader who had commanded hundreds of mission for Granny and Darkseid. It was rumoured that she'd died once but Darkseid had seen such her value in her that she was regenerated. Such was the power of Darkseid.

The second was not so valued but tolerated and Grace shuddered seeing Mad Harriet stepping through the portal behind Lash. Harriet was deranged and a loose cannon but she was such an agent of chaos that it was difficult to argue with her results. Still there were occasions when only Granny's entreaty kept Darkseid from obliterating her to the solar winds for her insolence. Slightly bowed in her posture, her head seemed too small for her wide eyes and with her wild, red hair flowing in the night air, she did appear a little mad.   Especially when she wore gauntlets that held razor sharp blades on every digit, looking like a Freddy Krueger clone.

The last of the Furies to be sent on this mission was one Grace knew only be reputation. The Swan was easily the most powerful of the three. She was a dazzling beauty that always seemed out of place among the harsh, cruel world of Granny's Orphanage.  Flowing golden hair, flawless peachy skin and intense blue eyes, she stood head to head with Lash in height. Her costume was cut to accentuate her figure, even down to the wings that were attached to her back to give her flight.

Grace wondered if the Swan remembered that she was once human.

Once the portal had closed behind them, she jumped off the hood of the car and approached them. "In the name of Darkseid, I welcome you Lashina, Mad Harriet and Silver Swan," Grace greeted, head bowed in the repose of the supplicant.

"Amazing Grace," Lashina acknowledged the greeting. "You look well."

"You mean soft," Harriet tittered derisively. " You look so pretty. Tell me, do you present to the humans with a bow tied around your waist?"

"Shut up Harriet," Lash warned, not about to tolerate Harriet's prattle since Grace was their guide on Earth. "Where is the ship now?"

"Its being moved as we speak," Grace replied, "its not far from here."

"Then we should proceed quickly," Lash declared, "In which direction?"

"Over the hill," Grace indicated westward and then added, “Please remember there are plans afoot for this planet that is still in progress. Darkseid will not be impressed if we're exposed to the humans far sooner than we should be."

"I have been made aware of this planet's importance," Lash retorted, a little offended at the implication that she did not know how crucial Earth was to Darkseid's agenda. "Swan. A quick reconnaissance if you will..."

The Swan did not respond. She was staring at the cornfields, suddenly revisited by nagging little sensations she couldn't quite discern. They were like flies buzzing around her face, she couldn't get rid of.

"Swan!" Lash snapped again and Harriet tittered that maddening laugh.

"Yes, I heard you," the Swan’s head lifted sharply and retorted coldly, "Recon. I heard."

With that, her wings extended outward and with a single powerful flap and she was in the air, searching for the ship in this place that felt so familiar.

Almost like she'd been here.

TO BE CONTINUED