Episode 8: Paint With All the Colors of the Wind

The two heroes reunite at the top of Wayne International Plaza for their usual lunch, and a debriefing after the party.

            Two days after the party, Bruce and Clark returned to their normal schedules. They even got Maragaret back from her brief sabbatical. After the incident with the butcher, party planning and general cooldown the two men hadn’t gotten together for lunch in a while. Clark was looking forward to this. He needed to return to what he thought of as status quo. He thought about it on his way up the elevator. He knew the party would come up, Bruce always liked to debrief after something like that. It was sort of sweet, after Justice League parties he would always say “Barry seemed out of it, you should check on him.” Or “Jon was off, you think he’s ok?” Clark was looking forward to seeing the caring side of his friend again, especially after seeing him so down at the party. His hopes were dashed however when Margaret opened the office doors and he walked in to see Bruce staring at him with all the rage of a mother saying “do you know what time it is.” Clark feigned ignorance when the door shut.

“Hey. What’s up?”

Bruce grabbed a bundle of papers off the table next to him.

“Do you know what this is?”

“No. A bill of some kind?”

“A subpoena.”

“The US Gov subpoenaed you?”

“No. They subpoenaed Batman.”

            Clark came forward and took the document from him. He skimmed the first page, checking for specific language. The US Government called for a hearing for “Batman” in front of the United States House of Representatives and a document seizing. They were demanding that Batman come forward and reveal his secret identity to the United States Government or face penalties. They didn’t specify what those penalties were, which made Clark suspicious. Everything else he saw made it seem official, but the lack of listed disciplinary action raised an eyebrow.

“They really sent this?”

“Oh it gets better.” Bruce said, standing from his chair and walking to the head of the table. An evidence box sat in the chair at the table’s head, which he retrieved and slid across the top to Clark.

            Clark threw open the box and started examining the files. They were all the exact same as what he just read, with one crucial distinction. Each one asked for a different Justice Leaguers name. Hawkgirl, Wonder Woman, Flash, Martian Manhunter, Green Arrow, him. The only names who weren’t there were the Green Lanterns, who have never hid their names and were both in the United States military. He stared down at this box of suspicion with confusion and despair. He never thought it would really come to this. He supposed it was only natural of any government to want this, but he thought they trusted the Justice League. He looked up at Bruce for hope.

“What are we going to do about this?”

“We’re going to completely ignore them, obviously.” Bruce said as he took the papers from Clark and put them back in the box. “I’ll have Margaret shred and burn every single one of these as soon as we’re done here.”

“We can’t just ignore the US Government.”

“Clearly you’ve never been a billionaire before.”

“What?”

“This is not the issue, Clark. I knew this day would come, of course it would. The issue is how it got here, and most importantly, why it got here.”

“What do you mean?”

“Did you notice that we are being subpoenaed by the US Gov? Not being brought before the United Nations? That means that either they are the only ones interested in this, or they are keeping it a secret from the UN.”

“Ok?”

“Second of all, this coming from the US and nowhere else means that something had to have provoked them. Either someone or something rattled their trust in us so much they decided they had to remove our secret identities out of fear.”

“I see?”

“You don’t see a problem with any of this?”

            Obviously Clark did see a problem with this, but he didn’t see any solution. As upsetting as it was, it was unreasonable to assume this would never happen. If you’ve spent the last five years saying you’ll cross this bridge once you come to it, you shouldn’t be surprised when the bridge is before your feet. He tried to find the larger point Bruce was arguing but couldn’t generate it before Bruce interrupted.

“The White House doesn’t trust you anymore.”

“I don’t know if that’s totally true.”

“Maybe. But it’s significant that they weren’t asking before and now they are.”

“…Yeah I guess?”

“Can you tell me why this might be?”

“…”

“…”

“…Can you just skip to whatever point you’re trying to make Bruce?”

“What happened in France?”

            Clark slowly shut his eyes and sat down in the nearest chair to him. He knew this was coming. He knew deep down it was fair of Bruce to ask what the Paris story was. He wasn’t even truly bothered by it, in fact he needed Bruce’s help. But the real truth was so hilariously stupid, and sounded exactly like what someone would say if they were lying. He wasn’t looking forward to having this argument about it.

“Bruce, I have an answer. But I don’t think if I told you you would believe me.”

            Bruce pulled the adjacent chair out and sat down. He looked Clark in the eyes with an expression of earnestness that honestly surprised the man of steel. He did his best to trust it, and responded.

“I swear. I swear to GOD. I swear on everything I hold dear. That wasn’t me.”

            Bruce continued staring, waiting for following sentences. That wasn’t him? What part? The man in the red cape flying away or the persuading the French president and prime minister to stop a civil war? The video footage wasn’t great, but it was all they had, and from it one could easily tell the figure flying away matches his height, and has no mode of propulsion. It just flew, like he does. Bruce stuck his hand out like he was searching for more of an explanation. Clark recognized the gesture and continued.

“It wasn’t me. I never went to France. I never spoke to Laurent. That video is of somebody else, I was never there.”

“…Never.”

“Never.”

“You didn’t enter French airspace a single time over the seven months the civil war was raging?”

“Never.”

            Bruce narrowed his eyes, either not comprehending what he was being told, or not believing that it was true. He found it unlikely that Clark would lie about something like this, if he regretted the decision he would’ve just said so.

“I’m going to ask you one more time” Bruce began, leaning forward to challenge Superman. “This is not ok. If you did that, and are lying to me, that’s going to ruin both of our entire lives. If you AREN’T lying to me, that means someone else was able to fake being you so effectively they persuaded the ruler of the fifth most powerful country in the world to stop his most passionate war effort. This is a big deal. I need the truth. So, for the last time, was that you in France?”

“No.”

            Bruce stared so deep into Clark he swore he was seeing the man’s soul. It too had a stupid swirl in it’s hair. There was nothing disingenuous about what Clark was saying. He genuinely believed it wasn’t him. So either it truly honestly wasn’t him, or he was mind controlled. Either way, Clark was not in France on purpose. Bruce prided himself on knowing when people were lying and this wasn’t it.

            This answer, while reinstating his trust in his friend, did nothing to quell the anxiety about the situation. If he wasn’t there, who was? Who was pulling the strings? There were lots of people who might want to frame Superman for that, but figuring out who was paramount. He stood up and took the box of documents over to the front door. He unsealed it and swung it open.

“Margaret, I need you to shred these documents and then burn the remains. Try not to look at them. After that, I need you to cancel my entire day. Something has come up that’s very urgent and its going to require my immediate attention for the foreseeable future.”

“Right away sir. Should I cancel tomorrow?”

“I’ll let you know. Thanks Marg.”

            Bruce closed the door and sealed it again, walking into the room and addressing Clark immediately.

“Alright Clark, I believe you. That wasn’t you in France. But it was someone, and whoever it is wanted it to look like you, and that’s not ok. We’re going to start debriefing. Crack open those sandwiches you’re going to be here for a while.”

“I have dinner with Lois at 8:00pm.”

“Cancel it.”

“I can’t.”

“Are you kidding me? This is important.”

“I know but…”

            Clark sheepishly lowered his gaze. Bruce’s rage clouded his thoughts until finally he realized what was happening. The embarrassed smile told it all. The fact that he couldn’t do Justice League business to do it. This was it. He was going to ask Lois to marry him.

“Clark…really?”

“Yeah…I love her. She’s my everything.”

“Clark oh my god, I… I’m so happy for you.”

“I really feel it with her. She’s the one.”

“You’re perfect for each other.”

“We’re going to her favorite restaurant. It’s where we had our first date. I called ahead, we’re going to have the same table and everything.”

“That’s fantastic.”

“I’ve been thinking about it all month.”

“Do you have the ring?”

            Clark reached into his backpack and pulled out the box. The tiny velvet case that held magnetically closed looked in his hands like such a frail thing. He held it like at any minute it could explode. He creaked open the lid and revealed the jewelry inside.

            Bruce didn’t have much experience with rings. In the hands of Superman it looked like absolutely miniscule. It had a thin silver band that expanded with gems as it went towards the crest. At the top was a single sapphire, beaming bright with pride as it completed the ring.

“She likes sapphires? That’s not what I would have guessed.”

“They’re her second favorite gem. Her favorite goes on the wedding band.”

“It’s great, Clark. Can you afford this? I can help out.”

“I’ve been saving for a while. I can afford it. You can do the wedding though, that can be all you.”

“I’m not that rich.”

            They laughed together. It was an ok joke, but they laughed hard enough to beat the band. Clark was so explosively happy he couldn’t contain himself. The moment was really here. He was really going to propose. Eight hours had never felt so long before. His optimism rubbed off on Bruce and he matched the energy. It was so restorative to see Clark doing well in life. It meant that there was hope for him. If Clark found a way to be Superman and still progress his pedestrian life meant it could still be done. It was good. It was right. It was exactly what Superman needed. Bruce wondered if he should still help with debriefing, or just take the day off. He floated the question to his friend.

“I’m really happy for you. I am. Can you still do this? You can home if you need to, this is a big deal.”

“I can stay for this. I have to leave by 5:00, but I can stay for this.”

“As long as I’m not forcing you.”

“You’re not. I want to help.”

            Bruce walked over to the far corner of the room and retrieved the white board on wheels from it. He rolled it until it was between their two chairs and uncapped the black marker. Clark tore open the sandwich bags and started setting things into place. He unwrapped his sandwich and swiveled his chair, so he could eat and watch Bruce write.

“Ok” Bruce began, taking a deep breath. “So you weren’t in France. Somebody was. There are two edge cases which state that the Superman we saw was a hologram, or it WAS you and you were just mind controlled or something. We’re going to ignore those theories for now as they seem much less likely than someone else pretending to be you. I find that if you want to find a perpetrator, nine times out of ten all you have to do is follow the money. Who stands to gain from you intervening in politics?”

“Somehow Lex I’m sure. The president maybe?”

“Lex for sure, the president I doubt. He didn’t seem to know much about it. I think he’s a pawn in a larger game.”

“A game larger than the president?”

“I’ve seen it happen.”

“Who could play such a game?”

“Lex is the most obvious answer. Amanda Waller is not above such things. Ra’s.”

“Who’s Ra’s?”

“Ra’s Al Ghul? The guy who trained me? I told you about him.”

“Oh yeah. Isn’t he dead?”

“Last I checked.”

            Clark glazed over the peculiarities in that answer and fixated instead on people at the party. The Secretary of State was a powerful person. Anyone in that seat would have more than enough resources to form a plan to overthrow the president. Or at least control him. Amanda Waller stuck in his brain like an itching bug bite. She always had some vendetta against him. Was she so cruel as to create a plan that turns her countries greatest ally into it’s enemy?

“Was Waller at the party?” He asked, searching his backpack for his notepad that night.

“She wasn’t.”

“That seems significant, no?”

“She wasn’t invited. So either the Metropolis Mayor is in on this scheme or she isn’t famous enough to invite.”

“She’s always had something against me. It could be her.”

“Not alone it couldn’t, but I agree, if someone were trying to turn you into a public enemy she would want in. Whoever did this made their version of you stop the war in France, which means they didn’t want to paint you as evil. They could have made you show up and kill civilians.”

“All they wanted then was to make it look like I was ready to invade in global politics, making domestic and international governments suspicious of me.”

“And if they’re suspicious of you, they’re suspicious of all of us.”

“They’re trying to kill Justice League support.”

“And succeeding.”

“Lex Luthor is the only name that comes to mind. How do we get information from him?”

“I’ll ask.”

            Bruce walked into his office and retrieved his laptop. He came back in and set it down between their two chairs on the table. He opened his mail app and started typing an email to lex-appeal@gmail.com subjected “looking for Superman.”

“You have his email address?” Clark asked, leaning in.

“Yeah we’re friends.”

“You’re friends?!”

“Keep your friends close but your enemies closer.”

            He hammered out an email detailing the president’s recent request to track Superman, and that he had stated Luthor was asked previously. He asked Lex to send over whatever documents he had and whatever advice/equipment he’d be comfortable discussing.

“There. That should get me a foot in the door to start asking deeper questions. If I play my cards right he might just invite in me to his evil scheme.”

“I’m not sure I’m comfortable with this.”

“You’ll get used to it. What else happened at the party? Anything big?”

“Depends. I interviewed everyone important, even John. They mostly blamed me for the peace in France. Most of them were ok with it, the more cynical were afraid of me intervening in global conflicts. There was this one thing though.”

            Clark flipped through his notepad and turned to the page with the symbol on it. He handed the pad to Bruce and explained where it came from.

“That is a drawing of a symbol I saw a congressman with. I always use x-ray vision on politicians to make sure nobody’s wearing a bomb vest or got Kryptonite or something. One of them had that as a tattoo on their back. Looked recent.”

            It was an extremely obscure looking thing. It was a large circle with several smaller circles drawn inside it smaller, like a target but much more lines than that. Two arcing lines were drawn outside the circle but intersecting it near the center. For such a simple design it had to have meaning, but what meaning could one derive from a repeating circle and two lines?

“It was oriented this way?”

“Yeah just like that.”

“What color?”

“It was green, a bright green. Do you recognize it?”

“No. Who had it?”

“Representative Alan McKinly from the state of California.”

“Did his date have this symbol?”

“He came stag.”

“And nobody else in the entire party had this on their body?”

“Not that I saw.”

“How big was it?”

“The circle covered most of the shoulder blade.”

            Bruce took out the green marker from the whiteboards stand and recreated the symbol on the board. The simplicity made it easy and quick to replicate. The two men stared at it, trying to extrapolate meaning from this inflated version of the drawing. They wracked their brains for something significant but what significance can one draw from a big circle and two lines?

“Is it incomplete?” Clark asked, trying to come up with anything to get the ball rolling.

“Who leaves halfway through a tattoo?”

“Well just finish the arcs anyway and-“

            Superman was cut off by the sound of a ding at Bruce Wayne’s laptop. They both turned around to look at it and found the notification to be a new email. It was from Lex Luthor and it was a reply to “looking for Superman.” Attached was a zip folder containing 96 documents of various file types, including .mov .png .txt .sbp and so many more. The body of the email read “sure bestie” with a kissing mouth emoji and nothing more.

            The two men stared fixedly at this email for an entire minute. They were completely bewildered at Lex Luthor’s speed in retrieving these documents and the relative lack of professionalism in his emailing.

“I don’t like you two being friends at all.” Clark said.

“How much intel did he get on you?” Bruce said scrolling down the .zip folder in sheer horror.

“I tried to ignore the whole ‘D’ thing but I swear your social circle confuses me more every day.”

“’Supermans_favorite_ice_cream_parlor.txt?’”

“Can a man not have preferences anymore? Good Lord.”

 “I’m not sure what to make of all this.”

“We need to make something of this.” Clark said, standing and approaching the white board. He finished the arc of the two lines in a different color so it was obvious where the incomplete part began. They weren’t perfect lines but they were good enough to wrap one’s head around. The completed picture didn’t tell the viewer any more, how could it? The difference between two lines and a circle is minimal compared to a big repeating circle and a smaller one that repeats more.

            The two men stared at the symbol and the rest of the data for another two hours, idly nibbling on their meals as they went. Theorizing continued and facts piled up, until the men had formulated the best course of action they were ever going to in one evening. They listed everything numerically and wrote what they knew, and what they would do about it, to be completed in the order listed.

1)      Lex Luthor was the prime suspect in the case of “who framed Superman.” Lucious Fox would look over the library of Lexcorp documents and come up with his findings.

2)      To make 100% certain, and to rule out all possible candidates, Bruce would visit the Lazarus Pit and ensure that it’s master was either dead already, or was about to be.

3)      Bruce had to begin tapping Amanda Waller’s conversations and happenings, to either rule her out, or see what she knows.

4)      Clark and Lois were to do as much research into the symbol as possible. If Bruce found time he was to fly out to California himself and ask the congressman directly.

5)      Remove the mailbox from the Hall of Justice so that they cannot receive any more subpoenas.

“I’m not sure I’m comfortable with number 5.” Clark said, watching Bruce write it on the board.

“I am.”

            The two men stared at the list making certain everything on it was correct, and that they didn’t miss anything. They stared for long enough for their vision to crystalize on the board, to no avail. That was all the information they had to go on.

“I guess that’s it.” Clark sighed, resigning. “Except for one last thing.”

“What?”

“It’s stupid, and also horrible, but I can’t quite shake it, and usually my intuition is right about this stuff.”

“What?”

“Is there even a one percent chance Joker is involved?”

            Bruce looked back at the board. He took a few glances at his laptop, and a few at Clark. He poured over every aspect of the case, shaking it like a bully looking for lunch money. There had to be some surefire explanation as to why it definitely isn’t Joker. He explored every angle, every possible combination. It didn’t exist. There was no proof that it definitely wasn’t the clown prince of crime. It had to be thought of.

“I’ll check on him.”

“Are you sure?” Clark asked, trying to be compassionate. “I can do it, I just think someone has to.”

“I’ll do it.”

            Clark was ashamed to admit he wanted to take the easy out. Returning to Arkham Asylum was not something Clark Kent ever wanted to do again. He doubted Joker would tell him anything anyway. Clark decided the best thing to do was change the subject.

“So where does this leave us?” He asked.

“With several leads and no evidence.”

“So in other words, nowhere.”

“Nowhere but also spinning in circles.”

“Awesome.”

“You should probably go. You have six hours before your reservation. It has to take that long to set your hair into the shape of a soft serve.”

“It doesn’t take six hours.”

“More than that?”

“Less! Less than that!” Clark laughed as he packed up all his things. He took a step to leave when he was interrupted.

“Hey!” Bruce said, stopping Clark in his tracks. “Good luck. I mean it.”

            Superman smiled his massive radiant smile, lighting the whole room up.

“Thanks. I’ll let you know how it goes.”

“My hope is you’ll be too busy to be texting me.”

“You and me both.”