Chapter 1: Chapter 1: Across the Hero-Verse
The world around him was gone. Blue skies, fluffy clouds, and the cold rock he laid in. Everything was gone except the harsh yell of his father and warm blood covering him. Some of it his own. Mark could hear his nose cracking, red flashing in his vision, and his dad slamming a fist into his face.
It hurt. Everything did, really. Mark wanted to reach out and stop his dad, to do anything. But his body betrayed him, too weak to move. Even breathing started to feel like a chore.
But why bother?
Dad made it clear he can't beat him. How weak and stupid he was for trying, thinking he could save lives. Mark heard his dad's voice shouting at him, his blurry form rearing back for another punch. His dad was stark red compared to the blue sky behind him.
"I could always start again!" With another punch, his vision blacked out for a second.
"Make another kid-" For once, his dad paused. Something cool clipped around his wrist, and he heard Dad smash something. It sounded metallic. "Fucking Cecil," he muttered.
Mark couldn't see anymore. His eyes were swollen shut, and it was hard to breathe. But he could hear. He could hear shouting and cursing from his father, he could hear a rush of wind whip past his ears. His body dropped, the cold wind biting into his skin. Mark knew he should fly, lift himself, but every movement was agonizing and all he wanted to do was sleep.
He could also hear talking. Once the wind died, a deep voice murmured. Mark coughed, blood spurting out of his mouth. Everything hurts. Dad beat him across the entire world, after all. He could feel the air, warmer than before. The ground beneath him wasn't rough rock, cracked by being thrown into it. Instead, it was smooth. Mark silently thanked whoever took him away from his dad, grateful for the silence and relief- what little there was. Their deep voice was comforting, in a way, not harsh like his dad's.
Though he couldn't thank them, he could hardly breathe.
"Thank…" he tried to whisper out if there was anyone there. But the world was fading fast, and Mark wondered if he was dying. Strangely enough, he wasn't too bothered by such a thought.
—-----
Superman, or Clark, loved helping people. He liked seeing their faces, happy and relieved. He liked feeling helpful, someone people could count on to save them. Knowing that if danger comes, Superman would be there. There was nothing more fulfilling than the life of a hero. It had its downsides, Clark couldn't deny that, but he wouldn't trade his life for anything. It was also strange being a hero, which is why Clark wasn't shocked to see a figure fall from the sky. He was a little shocked, admittedly.
Clark was doing his once-a-day patrol, to ensure Metropolis's safety. While also handing over a little girl's cat who was stuck in a tree. Before he heard a loud boom from the sky. Clark snapped his head up, seeing a flash of light before a small figure plummeting.
"Sorry, I've got to go," he said to the girl, before taking off to the sky. He quickly sailed under the figure, catching them in his arms. "Don't worry, I've got you-" Clark muttered, descending to a nearby building.
However, he was caught off guard by the state of the person. There was blood all over them. Their face was swollen beyond recognition, and they- or perhaps he- wore a hero-like suit. Clad in yellow, black, and blue. The blood covering him was slowly seeping into his arms, warm and fresh. Clark carefully laid them down on a rooftop, staring at the unknown man… or maybe a boy. He looked quite young, perhaps in his late teens. Luckily, Clark could still hear a strong heartbeat from the boy, he didn't know how long that would last.
"Thank…" the boy whispered, coughing up small spurts of blood. Before his entire body relaxed on the floor.
"Sir? Are you awake?" Clark asked, leaning over him. He got no further response. He must've passed out from his injuries.
A hospital would be a good option, but… Clark had his suspicions. The boy didn't look normal, and he fell from the sky. If he brought him to a hospital, who knows what they may find? He didn't want the boy to end up locked up by the government, he didn't have the same protections as a normal hero. Especially if he turned out to be an alien. "Ok, maybe not a hospital…" Clark groaned, this was getting difficult. He had to do something, he couldn't leave the boy to die. "Fine. Man, Bruce is gonna kill me," he muttered to himself, scooping the boy up and taking off to the skies.
If Bruce can't help him, then he'll give the boy to a hospital. He wasn't about to risk his life because Clark found him un-human. No human fell from the sky coated in blood… If all that blood on him was his.
Clark found himself in Gotham, landing just outside Wayne manor, where he knew a secret entrance to the Batcave lay. Clark sighed, "Bruce! Let me in!" He shouted, knowing there was a camera. There's always a camera. "I've… uh, got an issue."
Finally, the hedges parted, allowing him in. Clark walked down the long metal hallway before reaching the Batcave. Sure he could force himself in, but he wanted to be polite this time. Since he's dropping a kid off.
"Clark," he was greeted as soon as he stepped into the cave. Bruce was in costume too, eyes narrowing at the sight of the boy. An unsaid question in his posture.
"I... uh, I found him. He fell from the sky, and I don't know why. He needs medical care," Clark explained, to Bruce, leading him to the med bay.
"No hospital?"
"I'm not sure. He's not human, I think. I don't know if that'd be the best idea."
Bruce grunted, allowing him to walk into the med bay first. He laid the boy down, seeing his face twist in pain before relaxing again. "I don't allow metas in Gotham."
"Well, I don't allow people to die, Bruce. So are you gonna help him or not?" Clark muttered, he already knew the answer. Especially with how Bruce stared at the boy. "He's just a kid, Bruce." The man turned his head away.
"Fine. I'll call Leslie. See what she can do."
Clark smiled, "thank you."Bruce turned around, cape whipping behind him. Always dramatic, huh? Clark on the other hand, stayed, looking at the boy who fell from the sky. Was he an alien? Or a superhero? He sighed, deciding to tend to the boy, what little he could do. Whipping the blood off of his face and dirt littering his body.
For now, it didn't matter where the boy came from. All that mattered was his survival.
—----
"Bruce, I can't keep stealing medical supplies," Leslie chided, tending to this random boy Clark brought in. Bruce grunted, he knew that.
"I stocked the med bay. There should be plenty," he's dragged Leslie into here so much that he kept the med bay stocked with medical supplies, much to her own disdain.
"He needs a blood transfusion, a cast on both of his legs, and he has multiple bone fractures," Leslie sighed, standing up to face him. "This is… crazy Bruce. He's lucky he doesn't need surgery, otherwise, this would be out of my league. But the damage is… severe."
"Can you help him?" Clark asked, just outside the med bay. Hovering like a concerned father, Bruce fought down a smirk at the thought.
"I can try. Now leave me alone, I don't need you two meddling-"
"Leslie," Bruce rumbled, stepping forwards.
She glared at him, "Bruce," she responded, and he kept her gaze. She knew what he wanted. Then her shoulders fell, "here," she set a small syringe filled with blood into his hand. Bruce nodded, walking out of the med bay.
"A blood sample?" Clark asked, following him to the Batcomputer. Bruce didn't answer that question, especially when the answer was obvious. "Right. Of course," Clark muttered, clearing his throat. He deposited the blood into his DNA scanner, watching the loading bar appear on the screen.
"You want to know if he's human?" Bruce said, gesturing to the screen. "This is how."
Over the past two weeks, Bruce found himself tending and experimenting with the boy and his strange blood. It seemed nothing could hurt the cells, nothing. They were practically invincible. Clark was right in his assumption, the boy wasn't human. Which then begged the question, what was he? All searches of his DNA brought up nothing, he was part human and part something else. Alien? Meta? Bruce doesn't know.
"He's not Kryptonian, right?" Clark asked, the two standing in the med bay. Watching over the sleeping boy. Who had healed faster than a normal human, Bruce would add a healing factor to his invincibility.
"No. Kryptonite had no effect on his blood," Bruce answered. That had been the first thing he tried after testing the blood's invincibility. It was his first guess, maybe another clone. Since Clark liked to hand out his DNA like candy.
"Then what…?" Clark trailed off, his face becoming pinched. He walked over to the boy, leaning his ear to him. Faintly, Bruce could see his lips moving.
"Clark?" Bruce asked, stepping beside him. It was then that he could hear muttering from the boy. Too faint for him to hear. "What's he saying?" He demanded.
Clark's face went pale, "he's… begging someone to stop. To not hurt anyone," He whispered, eyes flickering to Bruce. He hummed, leaning away from the boy.
"I'm not surprised. He's covered in blood, and it's not just his," Bruce said. Of course, he wasn't covered in blood now. But when he first came in, Bruce was sure he bathed in blood before arriving here.
"Then who is he? Whose blood does he have on him?" Clark said, looking at him for answers.
Bruce shook his head, "That's the thing, Clark. I have no clue. The computer came up with nothing regarding him or the multiple DNA samples on him."
"Multiple?" Clark exclaimed, jolting upright. His raised voice had the boy twisting his head, sweat beating down his forehead. Bruce pressed a finger to his lips, Clark muttering an apology.
"Too many to differentiate," Bruce said, glaring at his patient. The boy mumbled a few more words, twitching a little before going still once more. Relaxing into the sheets.
Clark thinned his lips, "he was calling for his mom," he whispered. Bruce didn't like how Clark looked at him, the sympathy that painted his face. Clark was concerned, and, hovering.
Bruce turned away from the boy, "Go home Clark. I can take care of him."
"But what about the blood-"
"I'll update you if I find out anything else," Bruce cut him off, turning to his friend. It was best for Clark to leave this to him, he had a family to look after. He didn't have time to worry about a mystery boy. "Lois doesn't appreciate you being late for dinner."
Clark jumped, "wait, is it six already?" He stammered, rushing out of the med bay. That put a pep in his step. "Tell me when he wakes up, ok?" Bruce grunted, and Clark disappeared in a flash. He spared the unconscious boy one last glance.
"I have a feeling you aren't from around here…" Bruce muttered, before quickly leaving the med bay. He wouldn't get any more information until the boy finally woke up.
Weekly Power Status
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