Fic: The Beat of Bats Wings (8/10)
Jun. 10th, 2008 07:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
starsandseaTitle: The Beat of Bats Wings (8/10)
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Paring: Bruce/Kal, Martha, Lex Luthor, Lara
Word Count: 1363
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Author's Note: Previous parts can be found here. Lots of thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
jen_in_japan for the beta! :D
Bruce opened his eyes to darkness. He bit back a groan, feeling his head protesting. He opened his eyes again, slowly this time, blinking, trying to get used to the lack of light. Eventually he was able to make out a barred window, high up, far higher than he would be able to reach, even when he was standing.
It was very obvious he was in a cell.
He looked away from the window, and could just make out the shape of his basket. He quickly drew it close to him, amazed to discover its contents intact inside. There was a low whine, and his eyes went wide.
He crawled over to Ace's side, feeling tears prick his eyes. Loyal Ace... He stroked his fur, frowning when he touched matted parts, wishing he could speak to comfort him. He could see blood shining on his hands once he drew them away. Bruce swallowed. He removed his shirt and tore it into strips, bandaging the wounds as well as he could.
He carefully laid down next to Ace, an arm around him, stroking his belly and pressing his forehead against the back of Ace's head, feeling tears gathering once more. He cursed Lex Luthor and his hired muscle, cursed his step-mother for putting him here in the first place.
He couldn't lose Ace now, he couldn't, Ace had been loyally at his side throughout everything, he couldn't die now... Bruce stroked his soft ears, feeling Ace's trembling breathing, feeling his great heart beating. He bit down hard on his lip, struggling not to weep.
*****
Bruce lost track of how many days he was in darkness. He was fed daily, and the bucket that had mercifully been provided was swapped for another. He fed most of the food to Ace, and each day he grew a little stronger, to Bruce's immense relief.
He worked on Tim's shirt as much as he could, for some instinct told him time was short. He thought of Kal and his brilliant blue eyes, how they sparkled in the sun like precious jewels; how they gleamed in moon and fire light as they made love. And he thought of Martha, hoped that Luthor had not done anything to her. He hoped the Queen would protect her. While he knew Lara didn't like, or rather, didn't approve of him, the bond that Kal and Martha shared was obvious to all. And Bruce knew that the Queen would never do anything that would make Kal unhappy, it was why she disapproved of him so much, because she worried that he was going to break Kal's heart. She only wanted what every mother wanted for their child: happiness.
No, she wouldn't have ordered his imprisonment. Luthor had to be acting on his own. With Kal and the King gone, Luthor was in a very high position of power, could well have staged a coup. Bruce prayed that they had discovered Luthor's treachery somehow.
He had a feeling he was going to be dealt with before they returned, Luthor was just trying to wear him down by putting him in this cell, make him more susceptible to whatever he had planned. Bruce thinned his lips at the thought and re-doubled his work on Tim's shirt.
*****
He was at trial. Bruce worked on Tim's shirt while the people around him discussed his fate. The Queen was there, but was silent, dressed all in black. Luthor had spouted lies that the King and Kal were dead.
Bruce didn't believe him for a second.
Nor did many others, but they were all too happy to condemn him. They were saying how he had cursed them, and that was why they had suffered a run of bad luck. Bruce glanced up at each new 'witness'. He had never seen many of them before, the rest only glimpses now and then.
He had to get Tim's shirt finished, that was all that mattered.
Bruce was taken back to his cell for the night, for the verdict was going to be pronounced tomorrow, just before sunset. He knew why, of course.
They were going to burn him. Burn him alive. He didn't have to wait until tomorrow evening to know that. He had seen the eager gleam in Luthor's eyes.
He was going die.
Bruce sat against a wall of his cell, Ace against him, and bowed his head over Tim's shirt, trying to see in the dark so he could sew.
*****
Sunset was fast approaching as Bruce was led out of his cell, Ace loyally at his side. They were going to burn him too, for being his 'familiar'. Bruce held the basket of shirts, his head high and back straight, shoulders squared.
He was Bruce Wayne, the Crown Prince of Gotham, scion of many noble bloodlines, and he would not walk cowardly into death.
No, he would walk into death unblinking and defiant. He saw the people staring at him, doing double takes. He thinned his lips slightly. He hadn't acted much like a prince until now, but he refused to act otherwise.
He didn't blink when Luthor pronounced him guilty, though he saw Martha gasp, saw the tears on her cheeks. Bruce nodded at her, a small smile on his face, thanking her, in his own way, for all she had done for him. He nodded at the Queen too, saw the flash of regret on her face. That made him smile wryly for a moment.
He was walked along, in a path between the crowd, where the shape of a huge bonfire could just be seen as the sun slipped beyond the horizon. Torches were lit, so everything could be seen. Bruce took a deep breath as he was led up to the thick, upright trunk of wood, and was tied to it, hands in front of him.
His eyes were watching the skies. His basket of shirts was placed at his feet, and Ace was tied next to him. He was barking, biting the men who had tied them.
Bruce felt anticipation flutter in his chest, tighten around his heart. An uneasy silence seemed to settle over the crowd. He kept his eyes on the skies, testing his bonds, discovering that he was able to move his arms quite a bit. Ace's barking grew crazed, and he jumped up on Bruce, his paws on his chest.
Bruce smiled, and the fire was lit.
*****
The first dark shape descended from the sky, wings spread, its screams piecing the night and the minds of all who were present. It was swiftly followed by others, until there were six shadows, the size of swans, in the sky, blotting out the stars, their cries going beyond hearing, echoing through everyone's heads.
Two men on horseback appeared at the back of the crowd, but no one paid them any heed. Their eyes were all on the sky. Bruce reached for the basket of shirts as smoke started to swirl madly about him, felt heat licking at his back. He could hear the sound of mighty wing beats now. He threw the first shirt into the air, heard a scream as Dick caught it, threw the others up as swiftly as he could, hearing cries from each of his siblings as they caught them.
He threw Tim's shirt up last, the needle and thread still in it, only one sleeve attached. Please. Let it be enough. It has to be enough. Please.
Bruce felt tears streaming from his eyes as the smoke clouded around him, heard Ace barking, pressed up close against him, felt the fire licking at his feet, at his skin and clothes and hair, heard the cry from above, Tim's cry, then heard the crowd screaming, in fear and surprise.
He closed his eyes, feeling the world starting to slip away, then heard Kal yelling his name - the name he had given him. He felt strong arms about him as the ropes snapped, felt the sudden coolness of a gentle breeze caressing his skin, heard Ace barking at his side. Then everything slipped away at last. He fell utterly into darkness.
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Paring: Bruce/Kal, Martha, Lex Luthor, Lara
Word Count: 1363
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Author's Note: Previous parts can be found here. Lots of thanks to
jen_in_japan for the beta! :DBruce opened his eyes to darkness. He bit back a groan, feeling his head protesting. He opened his eyes again, slowly this time, blinking, trying to get used to the lack of light. Eventually he was able to make out a barred window, high up, far higher than he would be able to reach, even when he was standing.
It was very obvious he was in a cell.
He looked away from the window, and could just make out the shape of his basket. He quickly drew it close to him, amazed to discover its contents intact inside. There was a low whine, and his eyes went wide.
He crawled over to Ace's side, feeling tears prick his eyes. Loyal Ace... He stroked his fur, frowning when he touched matted parts, wishing he could speak to comfort him. He could see blood shining on his hands once he drew them away. Bruce swallowed. He removed his shirt and tore it into strips, bandaging the wounds as well as he could.
He carefully laid down next to Ace, an arm around him, stroking his belly and pressing his forehead against the back of Ace's head, feeling tears gathering once more. He cursed Lex Luthor and his hired muscle, cursed his step-mother for putting him here in the first place.
He couldn't lose Ace now, he couldn't, Ace had been loyally at his side throughout everything, he couldn't die now... Bruce stroked his soft ears, feeling Ace's trembling breathing, feeling his great heart beating. He bit down hard on his lip, struggling not to weep.
*****
Bruce lost track of how many days he was in darkness. He was fed daily, and the bucket that had mercifully been provided was swapped for another. He fed most of the food to Ace, and each day he grew a little stronger, to Bruce's immense relief.
He worked on Tim's shirt as much as he could, for some instinct told him time was short. He thought of Kal and his brilliant blue eyes, how they sparkled in the sun like precious jewels; how they gleamed in moon and fire light as they made love. And he thought of Martha, hoped that Luthor had not done anything to her. He hoped the Queen would protect her. While he knew Lara didn't like, or rather, didn't approve of him, the bond that Kal and Martha shared was obvious to all. And Bruce knew that the Queen would never do anything that would make Kal unhappy, it was why she disapproved of him so much, because she worried that he was going to break Kal's heart. She only wanted what every mother wanted for their child: happiness.
No, she wouldn't have ordered his imprisonment. Luthor had to be acting on his own. With Kal and the King gone, Luthor was in a very high position of power, could well have staged a coup. Bruce prayed that they had discovered Luthor's treachery somehow.
He had a feeling he was going to be dealt with before they returned, Luthor was just trying to wear him down by putting him in this cell, make him more susceptible to whatever he had planned. Bruce thinned his lips at the thought and re-doubled his work on Tim's shirt.
*****
He was at trial. Bruce worked on Tim's shirt while the people around him discussed his fate. The Queen was there, but was silent, dressed all in black. Luthor had spouted lies that the King and Kal were dead.
Bruce didn't believe him for a second.
Nor did many others, but they were all too happy to condemn him. They were saying how he had cursed them, and that was why they had suffered a run of bad luck. Bruce glanced up at each new 'witness'. He had never seen many of them before, the rest only glimpses now and then.
He had to get Tim's shirt finished, that was all that mattered.
Bruce was taken back to his cell for the night, for the verdict was going to be pronounced tomorrow, just before sunset. He knew why, of course.
They were going to burn him. Burn him alive. He didn't have to wait until tomorrow evening to know that. He had seen the eager gleam in Luthor's eyes.
He was going die.
Bruce sat against a wall of his cell, Ace against him, and bowed his head over Tim's shirt, trying to see in the dark so he could sew.
*****
Sunset was fast approaching as Bruce was led out of his cell, Ace loyally at his side. They were going to burn him too, for being his 'familiar'. Bruce held the basket of shirts, his head high and back straight, shoulders squared.
He was Bruce Wayne, the Crown Prince of Gotham, scion of many noble bloodlines, and he would not walk cowardly into death.
No, he would walk into death unblinking and defiant. He saw the people staring at him, doing double takes. He thinned his lips slightly. He hadn't acted much like a prince until now, but he refused to act otherwise.
He didn't blink when Luthor pronounced him guilty, though he saw Martha gasp, saw the tears on her cheeks. Bruce nodded at her, a small smile on his face, thanking her, in his own way, for all she had done for him. He nodded at the Queen too, saw the flash of regret on her face. That made him smile wryly for a moment.
He was walked along, in a path between the crowd, where the shape of a huge bonfire could just be seen as the sun slipped beyond the horizon. Torches were lit, so everything could be seen. Bruce took a deep breath as he was led up to the thick, upright trunk of wood, and was tied to it, hands in front of him.
His eyes were watching the skies. His basket of shirts was placed at his feet, and Ace was tied next to him. He was barking, biting the men who had tied them.
Bruce felt anticipation flutter in his chest, tighten around his heart. An uneasy silence seemed to settle over the crowd. He kept his eyes on the skies, testing his bonds, discovering that he was able to move his arms quite a bit. Ace's barking grew crazed, and he jumped up on Bruce, his paws on his chest.
Bruce smiled, and the fire was lit.
*****
The first dark shape descended from the sky, wings spread, its screams piecing the night and the minds of all who were present. It was swiftly followed by others, until there were six shadows, the size of swans, in the sky, blotting out the stars, their cries going beyond hearing, echoing through everyone's heads.
Two men on horseback appeared at the back of the crowd, but no one paid them any heed. Their eyes were all on the sky. Bruce reached for the basket of shirts as smoke started to swirl madly about him, felt heat licking at his back. He could hear the sound of mighty wing beats now. He threw the first shirt into the air, heard a scream as Dick caught it, threw the others up as swiftly as he could, hearing cries from each of his siblings as they caught them.
He threw Tim's shirt up last, the needle and thread still in it, only one sleeve attached. Please. Let it be enough. It has to be enough. Please.
Bruce felt tears streaming from his eyes as the smoke clouded around him, heard Ace barking, pressed up close against him, felt the fire licking at his feet, at his skin and clothes and hair, heard the cry from above, Tim's cry, then heard the crowd screaming, in fear and surprise.
He closed his eyes, feeling the world starting to slip away, then heard Kal yelling his name - the name he had given him. He felt strong arms about him as the ropes snapped, felt the sudden coolness of a gentle breeze caressing his skin, heard Ace barking at his side. Then everything slipped away at last. He fell utterly into darkness.
