Heroes of the Squared Circle 66: Buried
Jan. 3rd, 2016 07:16 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mithenTitle: Buried
Relationship: Bruce Wayne/Clark Kent
Characters: Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent, Kara Zor-El, Steph Brown, Tim Drake, Jason Todd
Continuity: Heroes of the Squared Circle, a DC/pro wrestling fusion.
Warnings/Spoilers: None
Rating: PG
Word Count 1920
Summary: In front of the cameras, Batman plots. Behind the scenes, Bruce Wayne does the same.
It was another of wrestling’s unwritten rules that when someone makes a mistake, nobody ever tells him about it. They just tell everybody else instead. It’s a confusing concept. --Chris Jericho
The Justice League stood triumphant in the ring at the end of the four-man tag team match: Superman, Batman, Green Lantern and Flash had all fought well against the representatives of the Injustice League, with Aquaman and Wonder Woman guarding against outside interference. Lex Luthor had just been handed another defeat “We couldn’t have done it without you!” Superman yelled to Batman, sweeping him up into a hug, and they all hoisted their chief strategist onto their shoulders as they celebrated.
Almost no one thought anything of it at the time, but later people looked back and noticed the close-up in which Batman looked down at his team members and at Superman specifically, his face opaque and unreadable.
Then Superman beamed up at him, and the corners of Batman’s mouth softened into the closest he usually got to a true smile once more, and the moment was past.
Metamorpho limped backstage, assisted by his friends Black Lightning, Geo-Force, Looker and Halo: the latest wrestler to accept Azrael’s open challenge and fail. It had been a good fight, but Azrael had pinned him clean in the middle of the ring. There were some enthusiastic whistles when he appeared on the Jumbotron: Metamorpho was a popular wrestler despite the fact that he had never won a title and his career in the DCW was mainly limited to losing to other wrestlers. He had come to wryly refer to himself as “Rex Mason, jobber to the stars.”
“Man,” said Metamorpho, stopping conveniently in front of the camera and rubbing his head, “We’re never getting anywhere, are we? I thought maybe, this time--but it’s no good.”
“Don’t say that,” said Halo, patting him on the arm. “It was a good fight.”
“I’ll try next week,” said Black Lightning. “One of us will get that break eventually. We’re good, we’re hungry, and we’re--”
“--Pathetically underfunded,” drawled a familiar voice. The arena noise peaked in delight as Billionaire Brucie, clad in a sleek tuxedo with a red rose in the lapel, strolled into range of the camera. “You have a certain…” He raised a skeptical eyebrow and took them in. “...raw ability, there’s no denying, but you’ll never get anywhere without some sponsorship. Money, dear children, not talent but money makes the world go round.”
The audience noises had subsided from cheers into muttering as many of them started to remember why Billionaire Brucie was one of the most hated heels in the business; watching on the monitors backstage, Clark saw a flicker of glee in Bruce’s eyes for a moment as his heat started to build.
“Are you offering?” Metamorpho asked with a weary sneer.
“As a matter of fact,” said Bruce, “I just might be.”
“It’s brilliant,” said Tim.
“I know,” said Bruce, not looking away from where Steph and Kara were sparring in his practice ring. Alfred hovered nearby with water bottles, towels, and protein bars.
“It’s brilliant,” Time repeated with more fervor. He started to pace, hitting his fist into his hand now and then for emphasis. “It’s basically an open secret that Batman and Billionaire Brucie are one and the same--I mean, it’s never been confirmed, but anyone paying attention at all over the years will have caught the resemblance, not to mention the two have the same moveset. So basically now Batman is leading the Justice League--uh, co-leading,” he said with a quick, apologetic glance at Clark, who shrugged and smiled. “And Billionaire Brucie is funding the Outsiders, both of which are stables fighting against Lex Luthor’s dominion. And at the same time the serious smarks, the people who read the dirt sheets and gossip rags, know that the real guy behind the two characters is legit furious at Lex Luthor for what happened to Dick Grayson.
“Man, that shit’s too complicated for me,” complained Jason Todd, emerging without warning from the stairway. He tended to somehow sense when there was a training session at the Manor and materialize there, insisting that no one had told him and certainly no one had invited him. “Give me mixed martial arts anyday, we don’t bother with all this bullsh--” He broke off at Alfred’s reproachful glance and started again, “--all this b.s. multi-layered storytelling and ironic reversals and wink-wink nudge-nudge. In MMA, we punch people until they fall down.”
“It’s not that simple,” said Tim.
“You’re right. Sometimes we kick them. Keeps things fresh,” agreed Jason.
Bruce ignored both of them, raising his voice: “Kara, you need to listen when you drop your elbow.” Kara and Steph stopped in the middle of a hold and looked at him. “There should be one clear sound when your elbow hits the mat. If you hear two sounds--like a thump and an echo--you’re hitting it wrong.”
Kara’s face scrunched up as she contemplated that, and Steph released the hold and scrambled to her feet. “Let’s try it,” she said.
“Anyway,” said Jason, “You haven’t even gotten to the lowest layer of your delicious crap cake that’s wrestling--no one except us and maybe Luthor himself knows that “Bruce Wayne” is really Bruce Wayne, the elusive heir of Gotham. You’re pretending to be someone pretending to be two people planning to take Luthor down, while actually planning to take Luthor down. That is some fucked-up shit, I approve.” He caught Alfred’s eye again and cleared his throat, reddening slightly. “Sorry.”
“I thought you didn’t like all that soap-opera stuff,” Tim said.
Jason crossed his arms. “With Bruce, it’s real. That doesn’t count.”
“Everything’s real,” Bruce said absently, his eyes still on the women in the ring. “That’s better, Kara. Try it a few more times.”
“Yes sir, Mr. Wayne, sir,” chirped Kara, making Steph snicker.
“And Steph,” added Clark, “Remember to practice in-character. How would Spoiler move from one spot to another? If you do it when you practice, too, it’ll become even more second nature in the ring.”
“So I should be doing all the facial expressions and nonverbal stuff too, got it,” said Steph.
“It’s as important as the actual spots--maybe more so,” said Clark. “That’s how you’re going to get over--not because Stephanie Brown does a beautiful DDT, but because Spoiler looks like she’s having the time of her life doing it.”
“Like this?” Steph dropped Kara to the mat, then skipped over her prone body with a twirl, grinning.
Clark applauded. “Perfect.” The women went through their moves, and Clark watched their motions match up and sync. The way Kara surreptitiously cradled Steph’s head when she dropped her into a DDT; the way Steph tapped her lightly on the shoulder to signal that she was about to do an arm drag. A whole language of feather-light, lightning-fast touches; an entire conversation woven with glances and fragments of words. So natural, so intimate.
“I know,” said Bruce beside him, and Clark didn’t even need to look to know what his expression was. “I know.”
“So,” said Jason, sidling up to them. “I hear rumors.”
“Do you now,” said Bruce.
“I hear things have been bad since Dick left, for some of the kids especially.”
Clark made a noncommittal noise.
“Steph hasn’t won a match in months,” Jason said. “And don’t give me that bull about how winning and losing don’t matter compared to stories. She’s been jobbing, brought out to lose pointless matches. She’s too good for that. Hell, Tim and Kon haven’t even been on television at all recently. They’re just sitting around in catering, hoping they’ll get a match that never comes. They’re getting buried, Bruce! What are you going to do about it?”
“Bide my time,” Bruce said. “Plan. Put things into place.”
“It’s taking too long,” growled Jason.
“You’re too impatient,” said Bruce.
“Damn straight,” said Jason. He raised his voice. “Alf! I’m gonna go raid the fridge, okay?” He took the stairs two at a time, followed by Tim.
“He misses wrestling,” Bruce said when he was gone. “It rips him up to be away from it, no matter how much he insists he’s happier doing MMA.”
“Does he hope if Lex is gone he can come back to the DCW?” Clark asked.
“I’m not sure that’s crossed his mind, to be honest,” said Bruce. “He’s more upset about Tim and Steph getting buried.”
“He’s a good kid,” said Clark.
“He’s a good kid,” Bruce agreed. “He deserves better. They all do. And someday, somehow, we’re going to make sure they get it.”
“Batman, what are you talking about?” Red Robin stared at his mentor. Following wrestling narrative convention, they both were oddly oblivious to the fact that a camera was filming their surreptitious backstage conversation and broadcasting it on the Jumbotron for all to see. “I can’t believe you just said that,” he went on. “Are you really telling me you don’t trust Superman?”
“I didn’t say that,” Batman said quickly. “I just… When Nightwing lost, Superman tried to stop me when I went after Lex. He tried to stop me. I’ve watched it over and over again, and I don’t understand.”
Red Robin threw up his hands. “Maybe he didn’t want you to risk losing your job?”
The Dark Knight looked through Red Robin as if he didn’t see him. “You don’t understand,” he said. “Don’t forget, he’s been controlled in the past. What if Luthor could get to him again? What if he could be turned against me? If I can’t trust Superman to have my back when it really matters…” He broke off, shaking his head. “Can I really trust any of the League? They say they’re on my side, but when it comes right down to it, we’re all alone against the world.”
“That’s not true,” said Red Robin. “You’re sounding…”
“Cautious?”
“Paranoid.”
Batman glared at him. “I’m just asking you to scout Superboy and Supergirl. Find out what techniques they’re weak against, what the best way to defeat them would be if we were up against them. That’s just sound strategy.”
“You’re asking me to use my friendship to gather information on how to beat my friends,” Tim snapped. “You’re asking me to spy on them.”
“What’s the problem?” Batman sounded honestly curious. “You’re always so committed to doing research, to understanding--”
“This isn’t research, Batman! If I’m put into a match against Kon, I’ll do what I can to beat him, yes. But this thing you want me to do, sneaking around and tricking people into admitting their weaknesses--that’s exploiting their friendship and betraying their trust.” Red Robin crossed his arms. “I can’t believe you’d do that to your friends. To Superman.”
Batman gazed at him for a long moment. Then he smiled, but it seemed forced. “All right, Red Robin. You’ve made your point. You’re right, it was wrong of me to ask you. Don’t worry about it.”
Red Robin relaxed a little. “I’m glad,” he said with a smile, and left camera range.
The camera zoomed in for a close-up of The Dark Knight’s cowled face, stern and distant under the mask.
“I’ll just have to do all the work myself, I guess,” he said in a low voice.
Relationship: Bruce Wayne/Clark Kent
Characters: Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent, Kara Zor-El, Steph Brown, Tim Drake, Jason Todd
Continuity: Heroes of the Squared Circle, a DC/pro wrestling fusion.
Warnings/Spoilers: None
Rating: PG
Word Count 1920
Summary: In front of the cameras, Batman plots. Behind the scenes, Bruce Wayne does the same.
It was another of wrestling’s unwritten rules that when someone makes a mistake, nobody ever tells him about it. They just tell everybody else instead. It’s a confusing concept. --Chris Jericho
The Justice League stood triumphant in the ring at the end of the four-man tag team match: Superman, Batman, Green Lantern and Flash had all fought well against the representatives of the Injustice League, with Aquaman and Wonder Woman guarding against outside interference. Lex Luthor had just been handed another defeat “We couldn’t have done it without you!” Superman yelled to Batman, sweeping him up into a hug, and they all hoisted their chief strategist onto their shoulders as they celebrated.
Almost no one thought anything of it at the time, but later people looked back and noticed the close-up in which Batman looked down at his team members and at Superman specifically, his face opaque and unreadable.
Then Superman beamed up at him, and the corners of Batman’s mouth softened into the closest he usually got to a true smile once more, and the moment was past.
Metamorpho limped backstage, assisted by his friends Black Lightning, Geo-Force, Looker and Halo: the latest wrestler to accept Azrael’s open challenge and fail. It had been a good fight, but Azrael had pinned him clean in the middle of the ring. There were some enthusiastic whistles when he appeared on the Jumbotron: Metamorpho was a popular wrestler despite the fact that he had never won a title and his career in the DCW was mainly limited to losing to other wrestlers. He had come to wryly refer to himself as “Rex Mason, jobber to the stars.”
“Man,” said Metamorpho, stopping conveniently in front of the camera and rubbing his head, “We’re never getting anywhere, are we? I thought maybe, this time--but it’s no good.”
“Don’t say that,” said Halo, patting him on the arm. “It was a good fight.”
“I’ll try next week,” said Black Lightning. “One of us will get that break eventually. We’re good, we’re hungry, and we’re--”
“--Pathetically underfunded,” drawled a familiar voice. The arena noise peaked in delight as Billionaire Brucie, clad in a sleek tuxedo with a red rose in the lapel, strolled into range of the camera. “You have a certain…” He raised a skeptical eyebrow and took them in. “...raw ability, there’s no denying, but you’ll never get anywhere without some sponsorship. Money, dear children, not talent but money makes the world go round.”
The audience noises had subsided from cheers into muttering as many of them started to remember why Billionaire Brucie was one of the most hated heels in the business; watching on the monitors backstage, Clark saw a flicker of glee in Bruce’s eyes for a moment as his heat started to build.
“Are you offering?” Metamorpho asked with a weary sneer.
“As a matter of fact,” said Bruce, “I just might be.”
“It’s brilliant,” said Tim.
“I know,” said Bruce, not looking away from where Steph and Kara were sparring in his practice ring. Alfred hovered nearby with water bottles, towels, and protein bars.
“It’s brilliant,” Time repeated with more fervor. He started to pace, hitting his fist into his hand now and then for emphasis. “It’s basically an open secret that Batman and Billionaire Brucie are one and the same--I mean, it’s never been confirmed, but anyone paying attention at all over the years will have caught the resemblance, not to mention the two have the same moveset. So basically now Batman is leading the Justice League--uh, co-leading,” he said with a quick, apologetic glance at Clark, who shrugged and smiled. “And Billionaire Brucie is funding the Outsiders, both of which are stables fighting against Lex Luthor’s dominion. And at the same time the serious smarks, the people who read the dirt sheets and gossip rags, know that the real guy behind the two characters is legit furious at Lex Luthor for what happened to Dick Grayson.
“Man, that shit’s too complicated for me,” complained Jason Todd, emerging without warning from the stairway. He tended to somehow sense when there was a training session at the Manor and materialize there, insisting that no one had told him and certainly no one had invited him. “Give me mixed martial arts anyday, we don’t bother with all this bullsh--” He broke off at Alfred’s reproachful glance and started again, “--all this b.s. multi-layered storytelling and ironic reversals and wink-wink nudge-nudge. In MMA, we punch people until they fall down.”
“It’s not that simple,” said Tim.
“You’re right. Sometimes we kick them. Keeps things fresh,” agreed Jason.
Bruce ignored both of them, raising his voice: “Kara, you need to listen when you drop your elbow.” Kara and Steph stopped in the middle of a hold and looked at him. “There should be one clear sound when your elbow hits the mat. If you hear two sounds--like a thump and an echo--you’re hitting it wrong.”
Kara’s face scrunched up as she contemplated that, and Steph released the hold and scrambled to her feet. “Let’s try it,” she said.
“Anyway,” said Jason, “You haven’t even gotten to the lowest layer of your delicious crap cake that’s wrestling--no one except us and maybe Luthor himself knows that “Bruce Wayne” is really Bruce Wayne, the elusive heir of Gotham. You’re pretending to be someone pretending to be two people planning to take Luthor down, while actually planning to take Luthor down. That is some fucked-up shit, I approve.” He caught Alfred’s eye again and cleared his throat, reddening slightly. “Sorry.”
“I thought you didn’t like all that soap-opera stuff,” Tim said.
Jason crossed his arms. “With Bruce, it’s real. That doesn’t count.”
“Everything’s real,” Bruce said absently, his eyes still on the women in the ring. “That’s better, Kara. Try it a few more times.”
“Yes sir, Mr. Wayne, sir,” chirped Kara, making Steph snicker.
“And Steph,” added Clark, “Remember to practice in-character. How would Spoiler move from one spot to another? If you do it when you practice, too, it’ll become even more second nature in the ring.”
“So I should be doing all the facial expressions and nonverbal stuff too, got it,” said Steph.
“It’s as important as the actual spots--maybe more so,” said Clark. “That’s how you’re going to get over--not because Stephanie Brown does a beautiful DDT, but because Spoiler looks like she’s having the time of her life doing it.”
“Like this?” Steph dropped Kara to the mat, then skipped over her prone body with a twirl, grinning.
Clark applauded. “Perfect.” The women went through their moves, and Clark watched their motions match up and sync. The way Kara surreptitiously cradled Steph’s head when she dropped her into a DDT; the way Steph tapped her lightly on the shoulder to signal that she was about to do an arm drag. A whole language of feather-light, lightning-fast touches; an entire conversation woven with glances and fragments of words. So natural, so intimate.
“I know,” said Bruce beside him, and Clark didn’t even need to look to know what his expression was. “I know.”
“So,” said Jason, sidling up to them. “I hear rumors.”
“Do you now,” said Bruce.
“I hear things have been bad since Dick left, for some of the kids especially.”
Clark made a noncommittal noise.
“Steph hasn’t won a match in months,” Jason said. “And don’t give me that bull about how winning and losing don’t matter compared to stories. She’s been jobbing, brought out to lose pointless matches. She’s too good for that. Hell, Tim and Kon haven’t even been on television at all recently. They’re just sitting around in catering, hoping they’ll get a match that never comes. They’re getting buried, Bruce! What are you going to do about it?”
“Bide my time,” Bruce said. “Plan. Put things into place.”
“It’s taking too long,” growled Jason.
“You’re too impatient,” said Bruce.
“Damn straight,” said Jason. He raised his voice. “Alf! I’m gonna go raid the fridge, okay?” He took the stairs two at a time, followed by Tim.
“He misses wrestling,” Bruce said when he was gone. “It rips him up to be away from it, no matter how much he insists he’s happier doing MMA.”
“Does he hope if Lex is gone he can come back to the DCW?” Clark asked.
“I’m not sure that’s crossed his mind, to be honest,” said Bruce. “He’s more upset about Tim and Steph getting buried.”
“He’s a good kid,” said Clark.
“He’s a good kid,” Bruce agreed. “He deserves better. They all do. And someday, somehow, we’re going to make sure they get it.”
“Batman, what are you talking about?” Red Robin stared at his mentor. Following wrestling narrative convention, they both were oddly oblivious to the fact that a camera was filming their surreptitious backstage conversation and broadcasting it on the Jumbotron for all to see. “I can’t believe you just said that,” he went on. “Are you really telling me you don’t trust Superman?”
“I didn’t say that,” Batman said quickly. “I just… When Nightwing lost, Superman tried to stop me when I went after Lex. He tried to stop me. I’ve watched it over and over again, and I don’t understand.”
Red Robin threw up his hands. “Maybe he didn’t want you to risk losing your job?”
The Dark Knight looked through Red Robin as if he didn’t see him. “You don’t understand,” he said. “Don’t forget, he’s been controlled in the past. What if Luthor could get to him again? What if he could be turned against me? If I can’t trust Superman to have my back when it really matters…” He broke off, shaking his head. “Can I really trust any of the League? They say they’re on my side, but when it comes right down to it, we’re all alone against the world.”
“That’s not true,” said Red Robin. “You’re sounding…”
“Cautious?”
“Paranoid.”
Batman glared at him. “I’m just asking you to scout Superboy and Supergirl. Find out what techniques they’re weak against, what the best way to defeat them would be if we were up against them. That’s just sound strategy.”
“You’re asking me to use my friendship to gather information on how to beat my friends,” Tim snapped. “You’re asking me to spy on them.”
“What’s the problem?” Batman sounded honestly curious. “You’re always so committed to doing research, to understanding--”
“This isn’t research, Batman! If I’m put into a match against Kon, I’ll do what I can to beat him, yes. But this thing you want me to do, sneaking around and tricking people into admitting their weaknesses--that’s exploiting their friendship and betraying their trust.” Red Robin crossed his arms. “I can’t believe you’d do that to your friends. To Superman.”
Batman gazed at him for a long moment. Then he smiled, but it seemed forced. “All right, Red Robin. You’ve made your point. You’re right, it was wrong of me to ask you. Don’t worry about it.”
Red Robin relaxed a little. “I’m glad,” he said with a smile, and left camera range.
The camera zoomed in for a close-up of The Dark Knight’s cowled face, stern and distant under the mask.
“I’ll just have to do all the work myself, I guess,” he said in a low voice.
(no subject)
Date: 2016-01-04 07:26 am (UTC)Intrigued to see where all this goes, this had the brisk read pace and overall feel of a connecting chapter - the gems here were Bruce's advice to Stephanie and Jason being himself, but really it just left me hoping you'll post the next one too so I can see how Bruce's plans pan out!
(no subject)
Date: 2016-01-18 07:54 am (UTC)