Superbat: Rainy Days
hi, hello, hi
I wrote a thing to get back into writing. It’s for @superbatlvr1 <3
remember that scene with Aragorn in LOTR where he comes through the door all dripping wet? well, I was imagining bruce like that when it started raining on my walk the other day, so. yeah. ENJOY :D
Clark feels like hell. His body is aching in places he didn’t even know it was possible to ache. Granted, Superman doesn’t come home with aching joints most days so it’s not something he’s an expert in but today isn’t most days. Today is another one of those days where Clark wonders where the hell Lex keeps getting kryptonite from. At this point he’s suspecting that he produces it himself, but Bruce has assured him that Lex doesn’t have the technology to do so. Clark trusts Bruce’s word, especially when it comes to kryptonite. He’s the leading expert on it, and while that might’ve made Clark nervous when they first met, now he’s just grateful he has someone in his corner who cares enough about him to learn everything there is to know about the crystal.
Clark knows he should’ve called the League or even just Wally or Bruce, someone close by who isn’t deadly allergic (Wally’s phrasing) to the glowing green rock Luthor has been wielding around like a madman tonight. It turned out alright though, no casualties, and while Lex isn’t in captivity, he’s on the run. For now that’s all Clark can be grateful for as he moves around his apartment slowly. He barely made it back to his place what with the small crystals still embedded in his back. The pouring rain didn’t help either, making it even harder to fly. He was hit in the back - the back! Luthor is getting more unhinged with every battle - with a large piece but managed to pull most of it out. Key words: most.
He feels weak as he roams around in his kitchen for his favorite mug. It’s the one his Ma got him for his twentieth birthday, the one that says “I deserve a medal but all I got was this mug”, or well. It used to say that, now most of the writing is gone (medal and mug is still mostly visible as both words were painted in large glittery blue letters) but the mug is still his favorite. There’s a soft scraping sound and he tilts his head to the side to focus on the sound. The rain pouring down outside is making it hard to hear anything and it doesn’t help that his powers are muted with the kryptonite still in his skin. He shrugs - instantly regretting it as the movement of his back has the small shards move around - and goes about making his coffee. It’s probably nothing. He knows he wasn’t followed. Weakened or not, he would never risk exposing his identity.
As he adds a few spoons of sugar to his coffee, the sound returns. Louder this time. Like hinges protesting under the weight of something. Clark puts his mug down silently and walks to his bedroom. He peeks inside, trying to figure out where the noise comes from. He may not have been followed but he does have a few acquaintances who like to drop by his bedroom window every now and then. Mostly it’s one or more of the bat kids or their dad looking for information, but they usually have the decency to call first or at least knock on the glass before sliding it open.