Author’s note: I reworked this already written part considerably but think everything I want to say is there. For now anyway. After this, I have to actually write more, so be patient. wink

CHAPTER 2

Even though he was prepared for it, Bruce still barely had time to pop the cap on the canister in his hand holding a kryptonite capsule before Clark was across the yard and reaching for the man’s throat. It almost unleashed Bruce’s own demons to watch his friend double over while the man claiming to be Tempus, an individual from the future who’d wrecked such havoc over and over in their time, watched with avid interest and maybe even a little enjoyment. For all their sakes, Bruce sincerely hoped Tempus didn’t push too many of the wrong buttons all around.

Focusing on his friend again, he touched him on the shoulder and repeated clearly, if gently. “Clark, you can not kill him.”

“Why?”

Well, there was the billion dollar question. Where to start? When in doubt, always begin with the most immediate issue. “I’m using the kryptonite so you won’t kill him without listening to him first. Then we’ll talk it over and see.” Tempus’ head swung in his direction at that last and Bruce gave him his most menacing version of the Batman grin before adding softy. “Promise you’ll control yourself and I’ll put it away.”

“Why should I believe you?”

Okay, apparently, they’d moved on to betrayal if that pained hiss was any indication. And maybe even a little bit of acting because the piece of kryptonite he carried wasn’t even that big, just enough to slow Superman down, if and when necessary. Small enough to be swallowed, as a matter of fact, but he tried not to dwell on that. In this case, it WAS necessary to slow his friend down until he was thinking clearly. “Clark, look at him. Really look at him. Are you sure this is Tempus?”

“Of course, I’m sure. I’d know-“ Clark’s head came up and he studied the man’s face more closely before turning to Bruce in confusion. “What’s wrong with his-“ He doubled over again, “OW! Will you shut that thing already?” When Bruce didn’t immediately respond, Clark clarified as he attempted to straighten and get an even better look at the man from the future. “Okay, I’m listening. For now.”

Sighing in relief, Bruce snapped the tiny lead canister in his pocket closed. Then he reached over to grab Tempus’ arm and begin dragging him towards the house and better lighting.

Tempus immediately objected, loudly. “Hey, you don’t have to be so rough. And while we’re on the topic, he almost grabbed me, you know. That was not part of the deal.”

“And he still could. Or I might. I’d remember that if I were you.” Once Tempus was positioned in a fairly bright beam of light, Bruce motioned for Clark, who was still shaking off the effects of the kryptonite, to move closer. “And besides, that WAS part of the deal. You knew there was a distinct possibility that he’d try to kill you on sight. I’ve told you repeatedly what he believes you did.”

Tempus actually flinched, then whined. “Well, yeah, that’s what YOU said, but I don’t really think I believed it of Superman.”

“Oh, but he’s no longer Superman.” Bruce tried but couldn’t quite keep the gleeful tone out of his voice, earning a sharp glance from Clark.

“So I see.”

After Tempus’ disgusted mutter, silence fell as the two opponents stared at each other. Well, this was better than Clark trying to kill Tempus. Wasn’t it? Bruce hoped that if he kept telling himself that, he might actually start believing it. As it was, he was still left wondering how in the world he’d ended up protecting the man who’d essentially destroyed Clark’s life from what might literally be the only true justice he’d see for his crimes, past, present and future.

Sometimes life was just complicated that way and time travel had a way of complicating even the simplest of matters. Like who did what and that brought him right back to square one and the present.

“The problem, in a nutshell, is that he claims he didn’t do-“ at Clark’s tensing, Bruce laid a hand on his shoulder and squeezed before continuing. He had to keep Clark calm for this next even trickier part. “That he’s just as much a victim as you are. And if we believe that, he also wants to help set things right.”

Clark’s eyes, which had closed, popped open and he started reaching for Tempus again, albeit more slowly this time. “I’ll show him how to set things right.”

Tempus took a hasty step out of reach and moved slightly behind Bruce. “You said you could control him.”

Bruce rolled his eyes at the very audible whisper, especially considering who he was supposed to be controlling. “Then shut up and let me try. Otherwise I’ll stop trying because frankly I don’t care whether you’re guilty or not because we all know you’re guilty of something in some time or other.” Clark’s eyes got a distinctly unhealthy for Tempus gleam in them at that admittedly poor choice of words and Bruce hastened to regain some ground and maybe remind Clark of his own principles. “Clark, on the other hand, has always been big on truth.” Suddenly realizing that it would probably be a good idea to leave justice out of the equation for the moment Bruce stuck doggedly to the most important issue. “We need to figure out a way to determine the REAL truth here.”

Clark stared at them both for a long moment then nodded. “Okay, we can do that but that’s all I’m promising.”

It was a start and Clark’s reaction to Tempus’ physical appearance gave Bruce hope that maybe, just maybe, he hadn’t made a complete mistake in bringing the man to his friend’s attention. He’d known immediately that the badly scarred individual who’d come to him for help certainly looked considerably different from the archived photos of Tempus he’d been able to find but that could be a purely surface disguise. His story was almost too wild to be believed, even when one knew time travel was possible. Only all of Batman’s resources hadn’t yet been able to disprove anything Tempus has said yet. He was hoping Clark could verify things one way or another but what he was going to do if it turned out Tempus was pulling something, he didn’t dare contemplate. Yet. While the immediate goal might not be to bring Superman back, Bruce certainly didn’t want to push Clark into emotional territory where it would become impossible to do so.

While Bruce was lost in thought, Clark was suddenly directly in front of Tempus, holding the man’s chin and angling his face upwards and he wasn’t being particularly gentle, either. Startled, Bruce straightened only to relax again as he realized Clark was checking out the same things he had in the unique way only Superman could.

Tempus on the other hand was far from relaxed, his eyes darting from one to the other. “Hey! Cut that out.”

“It’s real, Bruce. Or at least it’s not a mask. As far as I can tell it’s deep scar tissue.” Clark let go of the other man and moved back several steps. Then as if sensing Bruce’s other nagging doubt, he shrugged and added without taking his eyes off Tempus. “And it’s also really him.” An agonized look came over his face and he turned away, muttering softly. “Forget it, Bruce, I can’t do this. I don’t want to do this.”

“Even if I might be able to help you find out what really happened that day?”

The whispered words from Tempus were so different from the loud bravado the man usually tossed around that both Bruce and Clark looked at him in surprise. Then Clark’s eyes narrowed. “So you were there.”

“Oh, yes, I was there. I’m not denying that part.” Tempus’ hand slowly rose to rub the scars on the right side of his face then sift through his still thick but considerably grayer hair. “I know your instincts are screaming to not believe a word I say and, for what it’s worth, I can’t honestly say I blame you. But, Clark,” he swallowed hard before continuing, “Clark, in all the times we’ve dealt with each other, have you ever known me to willingly put myself in danger?” When Clark’s eye widened, he nodded. “I see you take my point. The simple truth is that the only reason I’m alive right now is that I was trying to get away using the time machine and it muted the effects of the blast.” He paused then added softly. “It may also have done more than that.”

Seeing Clark’s eyes begin to glaze over, Bruce hastily stepped between the two men, creating a shield both ways. “Clark, listen to me. You’ve got to hear the rest of his story.” He tossed a warning glare over his shoulder at Tempus. “Then if you still want to beat him to a pulp afterwards, I’ll do it for you.”

That earned a glare from Tempus but Clark raised a shaking hand to remove his glasses then rubbed his arm across his eyes before whispering. “It’s just so hard to see him standing there, Bruce, when-“

“I know, but if there’s a chance that he really does know something about--something useful . . . well, can we afford not to investigate it?”

“I suppose not.” Squaring his shoulders and taking a deep breath, Clark nodded. “Okay, okay.” He glanced at Tempus then away. “But not right this moment. I need a few minutes to adjust to this. Can you-?”

When his hand waved vaguely in the general direction of Tempus, Bruce grinned. Widely. “Consider it done.” With that, he touched the side of Tempus’ neck and the man crumpled. Bruce supported his slumped form easily but looked to Clark for directions. “Where do you want him?”

Studying both of them for a second in consternation, Clark shrugged then turned to go into the house. “Well, since I didn’t want to see him in the first place, I don’t know. I’m not ready to welcome him into my home, that’s for sure.”

“Okay.” With that, Bruce let Tempus fall, uncaring of where he landed, before following his friend through the door. “Personally, I could use some hot tea. Got any of that herbal stuff we both like?”

* * * * *
“Clark, I really didn’t expect you to decide now was the time to catch up on the news.”

At the question, Clark looked up from the newspaper he was flipping through and directly into Bruce’s intense stare. Apparently his pretend solitude was up. They’d been sitting at the kitchen table, drinking their tea for almost thirty minutes, completely ignoring the fact that a known criminal they both distrusted immensely was lying unconscious on the back patio. Of course, Bruce was adamant that whatever he’d shot Tempus up with would keep him that way at least an hour, three at the most, and leave an interesting headache in its wake. The way he said it made Clark almost afraid to ask what he meant by interesting.

On the other hand, Clark couldn’t really care what it was as long as it gave him some time to think without interruption, although, it did cross his mind, and not for the first time, that somebody, somewhere, should be more than a little worried about the things Bruce carried around routinely, even when not in costume as Batman. At the moment, though, he had more important things to be concerned about.

“Clark!”

Clark sighed at his friend’s uncharacteristic testiness. He kept forgetting Bruce was relatively new to this time travel business and especially new to dealing with Tempus. Not to mention, probably feeling just a tad guilty over bringing the man here in the first place unannounced. “I’m not checking the news; I’m checking the headlines to see if any of them have changed in the last few hours.”

Bruce sat up straighter. “This is possible? How?”

“Well, it’s been our-“ he had to stop and take a deep breath before continuing “-my experience that when the timeline is altered on the level that he’s capable of, things become extremely fluid.”

“Visibly so? I mean, again, how would we know?”

“You wouldn’t.” At the other’s raised eyebrows, Clark elaborated. “Apparently, my brain is different enough that, yes, sometimes I can catch the changes. Not always, but it is possible. I can be affected by them and still remember something of the way things are supposed to be. At least enough to know something is seriously off.”

“And are you seeing that happening now?”

“No, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t. I’m simply making sure he isn’t doing something obvious right under our noses.” At Bruce’s skeptical expression, Clark shrugged. “Okay, and maybe putting off the inevitable a little longer. Whatever. Look, Bruce, I know you had good intentions bringing him here, but with Tempus there’s always a hidden agenda, even if what he tells you is the gospel truth. With him it’s always better to be prepared for anything.”

“When am I not?” Bruce smiled and it wasn’t one of his pleasant playboy Bruce Wayne smiles either. “Why do you think I brought an extra large supply and variety of tranquilizers?”

And lord knows what else that didn’t warrant consideration, either. Clark smiled for the first time since Tempus had stepped out of the bushes. “Okay, okay. I get it. I also understand why you brought him here, although why Diana didn’t convince you to warn me first is a total mystery.”

“Because she couldn’t figure out how to do that painlessly any more than I could, maybe?”

Sighing heavily, Clark slumped back in the chair. He tapped his glasses on the table thoughtfully. “Yeah, I can see that, I suppose. It’s just that it’s so difficult to look at him and not literally see red. And it’s not just about that- that day. It’s about ALL the times he’s interfered in our lives.”

“He has an interesting story to tell, Clark. I mean, I’ve listened to you talk about time travel before but this is way more mixed up than that if what he’s saying is in any way true.”

Clark frowned. “Would you care to elaborate on that or do I have to wait for him to do it? Because, I’m not sure I have the patience to sit through one of his grandstanding sessions without some major incentive.”

“Fair enough. Basically, he’s claiming or at least suspects that whatever happened that day caused him to get stuck here. Here in this time, I mean. More or less.”

***end of Chapter 2


BevBB :-)
"B. B. Medos"