FIC: Autumn Skies
Jan. 30th, 2009 03:02 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mithenTitle: Autumn Skies
Characters/Pairings: Clark, Bruce, Alfred
Rating: G (preslash if you squint but really gen)
Summary: Bruce is on his way to dedicate a statue of a true Gotham hero--Harvey Dent.
Word count: 1350
Continuity: Superman Returns/The Dark Knight crossover, set six months after the events of TDK.
"With all due respect," Alfred Pennyworth said as he peered in the rear view mirror at his passenger in the backseat, "I think you've probably practiced that speech enough."
Bruce Wayne made a noncommittal sound and continued mumbling to himself, staring at the pieces of paper in front of him.
"You'll do fine," Alfred said.
"I'm no good at this," Bruce muttered.
"Your evening alter ego does have little call for making eloquent speeches," Alfred admitted. "But you'll be perfectly fine. Smile a lot and read your speech and get it over with."
"It's important," Bruce said. "I have to get it just right."
Alfred made an exasperated sound. "You chose this path, sir. It's a bit late to be balking at reeling off a string of lies."
"It's not lies. Not in the ways that matter," Bruce said, but he sighed and set the speech aside for a moment, rubbing at his eyes. The inside of the limousine was warm, but outside it was late October and the air was crisp and touched with frost. The autumn sky was bright, a stunning blue of perfect clarity. Bruce turned his eyes from it, wincing at the memory it evoked of brilliant blue skies...and equally unclouded eyes, gazing at him with something like understanding.
It was eight long years ago, he thought fiercely, banishing the memory. Eight years since a scruffy young man had met an alien with eyes like azure daggers and helped him stop a pirate hijacking off the coast of Yemen. Eight years since Superman had pulled him from the burning wreckage of a sinking ship and lifted him aloft into a sky so blue it could hurt the soul, had looked at him in silence, suspended in perfect cerulean. A moment, a moment that had passed with their parting, and any unspoken promises had been entirely in Bruce's imagination.
Eight years since a nameless pirate and an alien superhero met.
Five years since Superman disappeared.
Eighteen months since Batman appeared in Gotham.
Six months since Harvey Dent died.
And one week since Superman's return to Earth, to Metropolis, and to the mind of Bruce Wayne.
He had half-expected Superman would join the chase for the murderous Batman. Many had called for it. But the Kryptonian had merely smiled his opaque smile, and Superman hadn't come looking for Batman at all.
Nor had he come looking for Bruce Wayne. And why should he? Why would feckless, careless Bruce Wayne have any connection to a soot-covered thug, met briefly almost a decade ago? Bruce had nothing to fear. He was safe.
He was lonely.
He was safe.
"We're here, sir," said Alfred, and Bruce stepped out of the limousine and made his way toward the Gotham City Courthouse and the new statue being dedicated in front of it.
It was a good likeness, he thought proudly, looking up at Harvey Dent's unscarred marble face. The statue gazed across the square in front of the courthouse as if admiring the statue of Justice on the other side, her scales poised in the moment of weighing. One hand was held out as if in benediction of the people crossing the square on the way to the court, kind and benevolent. A guardian in pure white stone, unblemished and perfect.
Bruce shivered a little, the sharp autumn air reaching through his wool coat, and he wrapped his cashmere muffler around his neck a bit tighter.
"Are you ready, Mr. Wayne?" Jim Gordon's voice was blandly polite, his face expressionless. Only a person who knew him very well indeed would be able to see his deep discomfort as he looked up at the looming statue of Dent.
"Ready as I'll ever be," Bruce said cheerfully, and Jim grimaced slightly. Bruce knew Jim liked him even less because of his tireless work to have a monument erected to Harvey, and he also knew Jim felt guilty for that resentment. In public Jim was unfailingly complimentary about the martyred D.A.. But Bruce knew him well enough to know he couldn't be sanguine about people idolizing a man who'd held a gun to his child's head.
I'm sorry, Jim, thought Bruce as he listened to his introduction. It's for Gotham. All for Gotham.
"...the man behind this project, our benefactor, Bruce Wayne!" There was polite applause as Bruce stepped up the podium, nothing too enthusiastic. They weren't here to see him, they were here for Harvey. Bruce cleared his throat and shuffled his papers slightly, then began:
"Once I said that I believed in Harvey Dent," Bruce started. "And death hasn't dimmed that belief. More than ever, I believe in what Harvey stood for. Justice. Fairness. The passion to right wrongs. The dream of a new and better Gotham." He looked up briefly at the crowd. "Harvey will never see his dream realized, but I've seen it coming true, bit by bit, every day. Every day when someone does a small kindness, every day that someone stops the tiniest of injustices. And that's every day here in Gotham." He looked up at the statue, its blind marble eyes staring endlessly at the city, and addressed it directly: "Harvey. I promise you that I'll do everything I can, everything in my power, to live up to that vision. Harvey and his fiancee, Rachel Dawes--" It hurt to say it, but he could give Harvey that, surely, "--they wanted to see better men and women in the DA's office, better people in the legal system. So in their names, I'll be establishing a scholarship for gifted kids to study law if they promise to stay in Gotham, use their gifts for Gotham. I can't be the kind of hero Harvey was, the kind of hero this city deserves--" Without warning, he felt his throat burning and realized he was alarmingly close to tears; he brushed at his eyes with his kidskin gloves, hearing the crowd murmur and knowing his break in composure would be in every newspaper story. "But I hope maybe someday I'll have helped someone to become a hero like him. It won't ever be enough, my friend. But I hope it's something."
He stepped down to take his seat next to a stoically applauding Jim Gordon, wiping his eyes again and feeling foolish. Sentimental, maudlin fool, he thought fiercely. He was no hero. Not like this image of Harvey, frozen in marble; not like the Man of Steel in Metropolis. He had chosen his life, chosen not to be a hero.
He had no regrets.
Other speeches went by and Bruce applauded politely over and over until they were done at last. The crowd dispersed slowly, but Bruce found himself standing in the square, staring up at the image of Harvey Dent, solid and pure against the dazzling blue sky. So blue. So far away.
Alfred would be waiting for him. He should go.
He stayed.
Slowly, gradually, he became aware that he was nearly alone in the square. One man had stayed by him, also looking up at the statue; Bruce assessed him quickly, involuntarily, his mind elsewhere. Trenchcoat, fedora, press badge, heavy horn-rimmed glasses hiding his eyes. "Beautiful statue," the man said conversationally.
"A true hero of Gotham," Bruce agreed.
The man chuckled a little, shrugging. "It'd be a hell of a story, if anyone could get the full story. Too bad I'll never be able to write it." He looked down at his feet, back up at the statue. "But someone once said a hero is the one who finds the strength to persevere and endure in spite of overwhelming obstacles." Then he turned to face Bruce, slipping his glasses down to gaze over them. "I know who the real hero is," he said.
Bruce stood still, transfixed by eyes the color of a clear autumn sky, over a smile as warm and hopeful as spring. Then the man turned and walked away, leaving Bruce alone in the square.
No, he thought as he walked toward his car, the wind lifting his scarf. Maybe not so alone after all.
Characters/Pairings: Clark, Bruce, Alfred
Rating: G (preslash if you squint but really gen)
Summary: Bruce is on his way to dedicate a statue of a true Gotham hero--Harvey Dent.
Word count: 1350
Continuity: Superman Returns/The Dark Knight crossover, set six months after the events of TDK.
"With all due respect," Alfred Pennyworth said as he peered in the rear view mirror at his passenger in the backseat, "I think you've probably practiced that speech enough."
Bruce Wayne made a noncommittal sound and continued mumbling to himself, staring at the pieces of paper in front of him.
"You'll do fine," Alfred said.
"I'm no good at this," Bruce muttered.
"Your evening alter ego does have little call for making eloquent speeches," Alfred admitted. "But you'll be perfectly fine. Smile a lot and read your speech and get it over with."
"It's important," Bruce said. "I have to get it just right."
Alfred made an exasperated sound. "You chose this path, sir. It's a bit late to be balking at reeling off a string of lies."
"It's not lies. Not in the ways that matter," Bruce said, but he sighed and set the speech aside for a moment, rubbing at his eyes. The inside of the limousine was warm, but outside it was late October and the air was crisp and touched with frost. The autumn sky was bright, a stunning blue of perfect clarity. Bruce turned his eyes from it, wincing at the memory it evoked of brilliant blue skies...and equally unclouded eyes, gazing at him with something like understanding.
It was eight long years ago, he thought fiercely, banishing the memory. Eight years since a scruffy young man had met an alien with eyes like azure daggers and helped him stop a pirate hijacking off the coast of Yemen. Eight years since Superman had pulled him from the burning wreckage of a sinking ship and lifted him aloft into a sky so blue it could hurt the soul, had looked at him in silence, suspended in perfect cerulean. A moment, a moment that had passed with their parting, and any unspoken promises had been entirely in Bruce's imagination.
Eight years since a nameless pirate and an alien superhero met.
Five years since Superman disappeared.
Eighteen months since Batman appeared in Gotham.
Six months since Harvey Dent died.
And one week since Superman's return to Earth, to Metropolis, and to the mind of Bruce Wayne.
He had half-expected Superman would join the chase for the murderous Batman. Many had called for it. But the Kryptonian had merely smiled his opaque smile, and Superman hadn't come looking for Batman at all.
Nor had he come looking for Bruce Wayne. And why should he? Why would feckless, careless Bruce Wayne have any connection to a soot-covered thug, met briefly almost a decade ago? Bruce had nothing to fear. He was safe.
He was lonely.
He was safe.
"We're here, sir," said Alfred, and Bruce stepped out of the limousine and made his way toward the Gotham City Courthouse and the new statue being dedicated in front of it.
It was a good likeness, he thought proudly, looking up at Harvey Dent's unscarred marble face. The statue gazed across the square in front of the courthouse as if admiring the statue of Justice on the other side, her scales poised in the moment of weighing. One hand was held out as if in benediction of the people crossing the square on the way to the court, kind and benevolent. A guardian in pure white stone, unblemished and perfect.
Bruce shivered a little, the sharp autumn air reaching through his wool coat, and he wrapped his cashmere muffler around his neck a bit tighter.
"Are you ready, Mr. Wayne?" Jim Gordon's voice was blandly polite, his face expressionless. Only a person who knew him very well indeed would be able to see his deep discomfort as he looked up at the looming statue of Dent.
"Ready as I'll ever be," Bruce said cheerfully, and Jim grimaced slightly. Bruce knew Jim liked him even less because of his tireless work to have a monument erected to Harvey, and he also knew Jim felt guilty for that resentment. In public Jim was unfailingly complimentary about the martyred D.A.. But Bruce knew him well enough to know he couldn't be sanguine about people idolizing a man who'd held a gun to his child's head.
I'm sorry, Jim, thought Bruce as he listened to his introduction. It's for Gotham. All for Gotham.
"...the man behind this project, our benefactor, Bruce Wayne!" There was polite applause as Bruce stepped up the podium, nothing too enthusiastic. They weren't here to see him, they were here for Harvey. Bruce cleared his throat and shuffled his papers slightly, then began:
"Once I said that I believed in Harvey Dent," Bruce started. "And death hasn't dimmed that belief. More than ever, I believe in what Harvey stood for. Justice. Fairness. The passion to right wrongs. The dream of a new and better Gotham." He looked up briefly at the crowd. "Harvey will never see his dream realized, but I've seen it coming true, bit by bit, every day. Every day when someone does a small kindness, every day that someone stops the tiniest of injustices. And that's every day here in Gotham." He looked up at the statue, its blind marble eyes staring endlessly at the city, and addressed it directly: "Harvey. I promise you that I'll do everything I can, everything in my power, to live up to that vision. Harvey and his fiancee, Rachel Dawes--" It hurt to say it, but he could give Harvey that, surely, "--they wanted to see better men and women in the DA's office, better people in the legal system. So in their names, I'll be establishing a scholarship for gifted kids to study law if they promise to stay in Gotham, use their gifts for Gotham. I can't be the kind of hero Harvey was, the kind of hero this city deserves--" Without warning, he felt his throat burning and realized he was alarmingly close to tears; he brushed at his eyes with his kidskin gloves, hearing the crowd murmur and knowing his break in composure would be in every newspaper story. "But I hope maybe someday I'll have helped someone to become a hero like him. It won't ever be enough, my friend. But I hope it's something."
He stepped down to take his seat next to a stoically applauding Jim Gordon, wiping his eyes again and feeling foolish. Sentimental, maudlin fool, he thought fiercely. He was no hero. Not like this image of Harvey, frozen in marble; not like the Man of Steel in Metropolis. He had chosen his life, chosen not to be a hero.
He had no regrets.
Other speeches went by and Bruce applauded politely over and over until they were done at last. The crowd dispersed slowly, but Bruce found himself standing in the square, staring up at the image of Harvey Dent, solid and pure against the dazzling blue sky. So blue. So far away.
Alfred would be waiting for him. He should go.
He stayed.
Slowly, gradually, he became aware that he was nearly alone in the square. One man had stayed by him, also looking up at the statue; Bruce assessed him quickly, involuntarily, his mind elsewhere. Trenchcoat, fedora, press badge, heavy horn-rimmed glasses hiding his eyes. "Beautiful statue," the man said conversationally.
"A true hero of Gotham," Bruce agreed.
The man chuckled a little, shrugging. "It'd be a hell of a story, if anyone could get the full story. Too bad I'll never be able to write it." He looked down at his feet, back up at the statue. "But someone once said a hero is the one who finds the strength to persevere and endure in spite of overwhelming obstacles." Then he turned to face Bruce, slipping his glasses down to gaze over them. "I know who the real hero is," he said.
Bruce stood still, transfixed by eyes the color of a clear autumn sky, over a smile as warm and hopeful as spring. Then the man turned and walked away, leaving Bruce alone in the square.
No, he thought as he walked toward his car, the wind lifting his scarf. Maybe not so alone after all.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-30 06:24 am (UTC):content sigh:
Yeah, both of them should never be alone again!
I really loved this little thing, full of beautifully painted images - and I love Bruce being uncomfortable speaking in front of crowds, it shows that he's just a human after all and vulnerable, especially without all the kevlar around him.
Soooo good! :D
(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-30 07:08 am (UTC)Bruce looks quite sad in the begining but I really like the ending. I know he will be fine.
Well-done! I love it. :)
(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-30 09:40 am (UTC)I don't need to sqint to see the preslash... Maybe thats me.
*takes off her glasses*
Maybe these have slash tinted lenses :P
(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-30 09:44 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-30 09:51 am (UTC)I'm glad you liked it!
(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-30 09:53 am (UTC)Keep those glasses, I love the effects they have on your writing! :D
(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-30 09:58 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-30 11:29 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-30 11:46 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-30 12:26 pm (UTC)But I like the idea of the glimpse of sunny blue sky for Bruce here. :) Any plan for a sequel? *giggles*
(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-30 12:48 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-30 12:52 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-30 02:20 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-30 04:48 pm (UTC)Every time I've seen TDK, I sort of keep hoping that in the scenes we don't see, after Batman is being chased by the GCPD, there's Superman up there somewhere and he'll help make it better. Has to... can't leave Bruce like this. Too sad. :(
(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-30 05:08 pm (UTC)Angeloz
(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-30 05:14 pm (UTC)Angeloz
(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-30 05:15 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-30 06:42 pm (UTC)Bruce's loneliness is very evident in the movies. In comics, he does have that big family surrounding him.
Clark is ethereal here, with that serene smile and the knowing.
And Jim's position is awkward at best, poor guy. If he hadn't been so shell-shocked at the time, he would have given Batman a helluva argument against choosing to lionize Harvey and demonize the Bat, because Gotham does deserve a hero to give it hope, and a murderous Bat gives no hope at all. And eventually Harvey's madness will come out. Stuff like that always does.
Wonderful imagery of the blue skies and eyes and the pure marble statue of a man hardly pure at all.
The end scene is so quiet and lovely! :)
(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-30 07:21 pm (UTC)"With all due respect," Alfred Pennyworth said as he peered in the rear view mirror at his passenger in the backseat, "I think you've probably practiced that speech enough."
Eeee! Alfred! I could so hear Michael Cane's voice with everything he said here. :)
"It's important," Bruce said. "I have to get it just right."
*pets Bruce*
Eight years since a scruffy young man had met an alien with eyes like azure daggers and helped him stop a pirate hijacking off the coast of Yemen.
Oh, I loved the way you described Superman's eyes there! *hearts it*
He was lonely.
Woobie!!!!! *huggles Bruce*
The statue gazed across the square in front of the courthouse as if admiring the statue of Justice on the other side, her scales poised in the moment of weighing. One hand was held out as if in benediction of the people crossing the square on the way to the court, kind and benevolent. A guardian in pure white stone, unblemished and perfect.
I loved the description of the statue! I can see it so clearly in my mind. :)
I'm sorry, Jim, thought Bruce as he listened to his introduction. It's for Gotham. All for Gotham.
Jim, yay! :D *pets Bruce* Such a woobie.
Without warning, he felt his throat burning and realized he was alarmingly close to tears; he brushed at his eyes with his kidskin gloves, hearing the crowd murmur and knowing his break in composure would be in every newspaper story.
*huggles Bruce* Oh, poor baby.
He was no hero. Not like this image of Harvey, frozen in marble; not like the Man of Steel in Metropolis. He had chosen his life, chosen not to be a hero.
Oh, you are, Bruce. You are. *hearts him*
"But someone once said a hero is the one who finds the strength to persevere and endure in spite of overwhelming obstacles." Then he turned to face Bruce, slipping his glasses down to gaze over them. "I know who the real hero is," he said.
*hearts Clark*
No, he thought as he walked toward his car, the wind lifting his scarf. Maybe not so alone after all.
Eee! *glomps Bruce and Clark*
This was wonderful! You know how much I've been looking forward to seeing your post TDK fic, and it didn't disappoint at all. :) *glomps you*
(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-30 07:27 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-30 08:26 pm (UTC)I was a little leery about Alfred's role in The Dark Knight. He seemed to be... approving of Batman? And at times pushing Bruce further into the role.
Bruce had nothing to fear. He was safe. / He was lonely. / He was safe.
Good turn of phrase!
So in their names, I'll be establishing a scholarship for gifted kids to study law if they promise to stay in Gotham, use their gifts for Gotham.
Run, kids!!! Get out while you still can!
Jesus, my fight/flight reaction just went mad with that one.
In public Jim was unfailingly complimentary about the martyred D.A.. But Bruce knew him well enough to know he couldn't be sanguine about people idolizing a man who'd held a gun to his child's head.
One can only imagine what Jim's children themselves are going through, forced to keep that secret.
A guardian in pure white stone, unblemished and perfect.
One of the most fascinating things about the DCU is that the heroes are the ones with secrets. The villains let it all hang out. Harvey was called Two-Face before he was scarred, but as soon as his outer face matched his inner one, he became that inner tendency. Now that he's dead, Bruce is taking that back, forcing Harvey back in the supervillain closet, as it were.
I feel worse about Rachel Dawes, though. Fridged, with some of the best of our time.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-30 10:07 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-31 12:10 am (UTC)I loved it. Bruce feels far more human in this than I got from the Nolan movies.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-31 03:41 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-31 03:52 am (UTC)I've had such a hard time writing anything post-TDK because on the one hand I really respect the ending, sad as it is. On the other hand I desperately want Superman to swoop in and save Bruce from woobieness. :) THis was the closest thing I could come up with that balances the twin impulses.