This is a little something that I decided to attempt. This story has an alternate beginning and a couple of other well known players participating. In the beginning there is a lot of detail surrounding the other characters, but Lois and Clark are in there.
Super Friends
Clark Kent had graduated from Midwestern University’s Veterinarian school two years ago. It was here in Gotham City that he was doing his residency at Gotham Memorial Hospital for Animals.
Clark had wanted to do something in medicine but being in his ‘Super” situation, he couldn’t foresee being a physician and taking care of someone when his super senses kicked in and he would have to leave them. That just wouldn’t fly. Almost as an answer to a silent prayer, one day as Clark was leaving his microbiology class, he noted an advertisement for vet school on the bulletin board.
Clark knew from the word at MU that enrollment was down and the school was really struggling to keep the program. The standards for admissions had not been lowered by any means and MU had one of the best programs in the country, but nevertheless, the school was struggling with keeping enrollment up in the vet school.
When Clark applied it was no surprise to the rest of the school that he got an acceptance almost immediately. He was well known and well liked at MU. He had played college football, running back, and this made him also very popular. Though Clark was popular in college he was humble and didn’t seem to know how great he really was. Because he was such a handsome dark headed, olive skinned and brown eyed, stood at an erect six feet tall and definitely a gentleman in every sense of the word, the female population just adored him.
The day was over at GMH and Clark left to head home. He always walked home because it gave him a chance to clear his head, enjoy the sites of Gotham and suck in nature. It was also easier to make a quick exit to ’help’ on a super feat. Help is what Clark did in the form of his alter ego, Superman, because Gotham had it’s own hero…Batman. From what Clark could tell, Batman had no super powers but did have the ability to out think just about anyone. The ‘Caped Crusader’ is what he was dubbed. Clark could never get close enough to try to figure out exactly who he was and Batman was never still enough for Clark to ‘take a peek’. Clark was pretty certain that Batman didn’t know his identity either.
Clark walked his normal seven block route to his apartment on this bright spring day in April. About four blocks of Clark’s walk was through a very dangerous and run down part of Gotham but he was safe. The days were starting to last longer. The time would spring forward next weekend. He thought he would get home, take a shower and concoct one of his many creative dishes to eat. He would have to call his parents today. He hadn’t talked to them all week. He would have to do that before it got too late. They were early to bed and early to rise. They were always up early to tend their farm in Smallville, Kansas, where Clark called home for seventeen years, before going off to college at MU, in Wichita.
Just as Clark was about midway through the rough part of the walk, he heard a moaning noise, an injured human. He looked to his right which was looking into an alley between two buildings and there he saw him. It was Batman lying on the ground, gasping and moaning. Clark hurried to his side and got on his knees.
“Batman, I’m Clark Kent. I’m going to get you help…”
“No, you’ve got to help me. I cannot risk it…”, Batman started gasping for breath. “…if you could just make a phone call for me, my bu…someone will come for me…,” Batman continued to gasp.
“What happened?”
“Thugs, tried to mug an old man…they beat me…four of them…teenagers…”
“You need to go to a hospital, Batman. I’m a veterinarian. I don’t know what to do for you…”, Clark started to plead as he searched Batman’s wrist for the quality of his radial pulse. <Weak and thready…I have to get him help>
“No!” Batman yelled in a strangling voice. Then his head fell and he was not responsive.
Clark looked around. He didn’t know what to do. He knew that he had to get him help, but he suddenly understood why Batman was so resistant to going to a hospital. His identity would certainly be revealed. His effect on criminals would be no more. Clark had to think fast.
A thought occurred to him, but it would entail revealing Batman’s identity to himself. He knew how scary it could be to be exposed. He would have to do it and just assure Batman that his secret would always be safe with him. He had to find out who he was in order to try to help him. So without further ado, Clark did it…pulled back Batman’s cowl. Clark gasped at the surprise but knew exactly where he needed to go. Clark got up, scanned the area and found it clear of onlookers. He stepped back and did his trademark spin. Where Clark Kent once stood, Superman now stood. He picked up Bruce Wayne and headed to his estate, by air.
When he arrived, Alfred answered the door. Alfred became rushed when he saw who Superman was carrying.
“Oh my, Sir…” Alfred started with fear in his English voice. “…What happened?”
“I…a friend of mine, Clark Kent, found him…” Superman responded, “…lying in an alley after some teenagers jumped him. He managed to tell Clark that much before he went unconscious. Sir…”
“Just call me Alfred, son.”
“Okay…Alfred…he needs a doctor. I’m a…I have a friend…Clark said that he refused to go to a hospital because he didn’t want his identity to be revealed. Maybe if I get Clark he could do something. You see Clark is a veterinarian…and…”
“Very well sir…but you see, Dr. Kent would have to be…privy to…“ Alfred started.
“Alfred, Clark found him. He knows his identity, but I assure you, he’d never reveal it to anyone. He had to see who he was in order to get him home and not just drop him off to a hospital.“ Clark assured Alfred.
“Very well, Sir, do whatever you need to help Master Bruce,” Alfred responded with concern for Bruce’s well being.
After assuring Alfred that he would bring Clark Kent back shortly, Superman flew out of Wayne Manor.
Within five minutes, Clark Kent was at the door. When Alfred got to the door to summon him in, Clark yelled and waved, “Thanks, Superman.”
“Dr. Kent, I presume…?”
“Yes, Sir…Clark, please…”
“I was informed that you know…uh…shall I say…”
“Yes, Sir, I found him,” Clark assured Alfred.
“Master Clark, right this way. And I’m Alfred, not Sir,” Alfred instructed Clark.
Clark just smiled at Alfred’s Old English manners.
When Clark saw Bruce, he noticed that he actually looked worse. He had multiple bruises and deep cuts which continued to bleed more than Clark was comfortable with. He was still breathing, shallow, and his pulse was weak. It appeared that Bruce may have had some blood loss. He didn’t have any obvious injuries to his head. The thick rubber of his cowl must have protected him. Clark had some suturing supplied with him and some low dose Morphine. He also had some IV fluids. He first asked Alfred to help him to get Bruce undressed and he could have better access. Alfred did as he was asked.
Clark started suturing cuts using local anaesthesia for the pain. The cuts seemed to have been made by a sharp weapon of some sort, like a knife or another sort of blade and not a fist. Clark sutured seven deep cuts and finally got the bleeding under control. But Bruce was pale. He needed some volume. Clark had the IV fluids but, Clark was not exactly practiced at giving humans IV fluids. He was thinking as he was suturing Bruce. Then a thought occurred to him.
“Alfred…there is a nurse who lives in my building. I need her help. Now she will think she’s helping Bruce Wayne. She doesn’t have to know anything else, since we got rid of the suit. Her name is Vicky. She can help with the IV stuff and with her help, we may be able to get Bruce better, quicker.”
“Shall I summon her, Sir?”
“Wait, let me call her first. I have to find her number. Do you have a phone book?”
A couple of minutes later, Alfred returned with a Gotham phone book. “Here, Sir…”
“Let’s see, Vicky…Victoria Vale…ah…here…I found it.”
Clark called Vicky and asked for her help. When she agreed, Clark didn’t go into detail, but told her that a car would pick her up shortly.
Twenty minutes later, Alfred returned to Wayne Manor with Vicky, a petite hazel eyed brunette who stood about 5’1” tall. She wore her hair in a ponytail and styled jeans and a tee shirt that displayed a caduceus and some nursing jargon. She was beautiful and feisty.
When Vicky saw Clark she went into confrontational mode. However, Clark wasn’t intimidated.
“Clark Kent, what’s going on? Do you know who this guy is…Bruce Wayne…the richest, most eligible bachelor in this country. Why am I here…”, Vicky tiraded.
“Vicky, calm down. Bruce is injured and refused to go to a hospital. He was attacked by some teenagers. He need medical help and I’ve done what I know how but I needed a nurse to start him some IV fluids and help to watch him. You’re the only nurse that I really communicate with often enough to know will keep this under wraps…right?” Clark asked.
“Okay…Kent…right,” Vicky confirmed.
“Now do your thing…”
Clark and Vicky took shifts to watch over Bruce, Clark at night and Vicky during the day. Through Alfred’s stories, Clark found out how Bruce became the Batman. Clark was surprised to know that Bruce was only six years older than his 27 years, at 33, and had taken over his father Thomas Wayne’s company, Wayne Enterprises, which made him a billionaire upon his parents’ deaths. Rather than have Bruce become a ward of the state, Alfred had become his guardian and continued to raise Bruce to an adult and had been with him since.
Vicky studied Bruce the first couple of days she cared for him. She figured that he had to be about 6’3” and approximately 220 pounds. She noticed his fat free physique, his masculinity. She placed in memory his strong chiseled face and the dark hair that flopped over his forehead. He was clean shaven most of the time when she saw him on TV, but now had a shadow of black facial hair. His skin was slightly tanned and she noted his dark…brown eyes when she would open his lids to check his pupil reactions. He had big strong hands and a strong chest. His abdomen was sculptured perfectly and she noted a trail of black hair that disappeared under the waist band of his boxers. Then Vicky would realize what she was doing and then her cheeks would flush. She would then seek refuge at the window facing Gotham Bay.
When Vicky cared for Bruce, mostly during the day, Alfred busied himself mostly with chores. Alfred thought to himself, ‘Just what Master Bruce needs…a woman in his life’.
When Vicky would leave in the evenings for Clark to take over, she would lay a soft kiss on Bruce’s forehead and promise him that she would return the next day. When Clark would appear in Bruce’s bedroom, Vicky would up and gather her things to leave just like parting from another work day. Clark nor Alfred missed the glow that seemed to just appear over Vicky shortly after she started to care for Bruce.
Bruce was getting better. His bruises were clearing up, the slight fever he had run was gone and his wounds were healing. He wasn’t requiring much pain medication at all now, a week later. He still wasn’t completely awake, but stirred occasionally.
One of the nights that Clark sat with Bruce, his super hearing kicked in. Alfred had just approached the doorway to offer him dinner when he noted Clark‘s faraway look.
“Uh, Alfred…I…Vicky…” Clark started nervously.
“Don’t you think you need to go and take care of that, Sir. After all, Batman is…shall we say…ill. Gotham needs at least one of you to carry on. Don’t worry, I’ll see to Master Bruce until you return,” Alfred reassured Clark.
“But…but…how did you…” Clark stuttered.
“Oh, rest assured, Master Clark. Your secret is safe with me. Just be careful,” Alfred instructed.
tbc...
