#clawnotes

No one could've predicted that Clark would actually have gone through with it. Not even he himself. But there he was, standing in a room full of men he never even bothered to even speak to, blood splattered across his chest from their attempt to destroy him.

The Gatling gun was a solid touch too.

Arguably this could've been spun as a case of self defense by any of Bruce's army of lawyers. They'd defended way worse. But really, there was real no reason to involve them, seeing how no one was left alive and no one was going to report lack of harassment from the local assholes. So it was win/win.

Bruce's dirty work was done. By someone willing to kill.

More specifically willing to kill for you, but semantics.

He picked up what Bruce asked for, looked at his phone and started typing.

Done.

It wasn't long before he got a response.

That was quick.

They weren't too bright.

They never are. Anyway, assuming you're headed to her apartment, I think it's wise to let you know that Y/N isn't there at the moment.

Clark stopped mid-flight.

Bruce's phone began ringing. Bruce exhaled.

"Where is she, Bruce?"

"She's at a high-rise on my side of town. A colleague of mine is entertaining her."

He neglected to tell him that Jason had her with him. Given Jason's record, Clark was likely to panic even more. Granted, telling him it was a colleague of his probably didn't ease his thoughts. It was quiet for a moment on his end before the phone hung up.

Shit.

He was angry. Angry and homicidal. He had to get to Jason first.

Which was going to be a challenge since Clark was now heading in that direction.

Broken shards of his phone rained into the river he flew over as he sped towards Gotham. He had no idea what Bruce had planned, but he was furious. Why did he feel the need to have you taken from your apartment when he'd already decided to do what Bruce had asked? He was doing far too much.

Had he not have crushed his phone he could've asked about why you were taken

Maybe Bruce didn't know about it

Then again, Bruce usually knew about everything.

So he didn't want to hear it.

He'd had enough of Bruce's bullshit.

As had you.

You eyed the masked man sitting across from you. He seemed very amused by your anger towards him. At that point, you hadn't said anything more to each other after his talk with Bruce, but he seemed pretty content about it. He was pretty well armored, so hitting him with anything in the room was probably useless. That and his reflexes were probably on point if he worked with Batman, so you knew it was useless to try.

In the first place, if he worked with Batman, he must have been a "good guy", so it was strange that he had decided to kidnap you. But you didn't know the motivations or morals of superheroes. In the back of your mind, you reminded yourself about Clark and his intent to "steal" Lois from what'shisface.

Y'all know his name

Anyway, it reminded you that Clark was just as human-like as the rest of you, despite his alien origins. He often hinted that Bruce was dangerous, but maybe your bae was dangerous too.

No, he was definitely dangerous

The thought of it excited you more than you wanted to admit. A powerful, deity-like being choosing you to be his everything didn't sound like a bad deal, but you had never really considered the baggage that came with it. It was also terrifying.

"Penny for your thoughts?" he interrupted in a tone that suggested he was definitely smirking. Your eyes rolled to him, but rolled back to the window that you half expected Clark to crash through any moment.

"Just thinking. What are you getting out of all this? Why abduct me for Bruce when you know 'Golden Boy' is probably gonna kill you for it?"

"So you acknowledge you're important to him. Interesting," he said in the same tone which made you want to smack him.

"You wouldn't have taken me if you knew I wasn't, so cut the shit. What's this whole thing about?" you demanded in a less edgy tone, as you did when you conducted your interviews.

"If I haven't made it abundantly clear, it's about you and Bruce. Like I said, you've been driving him to distraction. So much that his focus has been on Metropolis lately. Which isn't a problem, unless you're Gotham's protector. Whether you know it or not, you're a liability for us unless..."

"I'm here," you said, completing his thought. You couldn't believe this stupid ass plan. Was he seriously planning to make you choose between Clark and Bruce? The whole thing felt incredibly pre-school and immature, but this dude seemed as impulsive as they came. Especially since he was risking life and limb to convince you to choose his favorite.

He seemed content to your understanding of his goal in this, but you were still unsettled as to why he was so calm about a potentially murderous Superman heading there to destroy him and probably everything he loved. Something didn't sit right.

You continued to mull over the thought until your eyes caught a familiar form in the distant sky. Clark. He hadn't seen you yet, but you guessed that all you had to do was say anything aloud and he'd hear you.

"You have something up your sleeve."

It was mostly to catch Clark's attention but it was a genuine theory that you were curious about. He didn't respond, instead looking at his phone. Clark hadn't budged either, but from the looks of things, he hadn't heard you.

"So now you don't have a smartass retort?" you provoked a bit louder, trying to catch his attention. You had no idea the range Clark could hear at, but apparently it wasn't as far as you thought.

"I mean, I could mention how your ploy to catch his attention isn't working, but I think you might be figuring that part out already," he said, still looking at his phone.

You're eyes flickered between him and the window. True enough, Clark hadn't budged, but you were realizing it wasn't because you were out of range.

"I'm broadcasting a high pitched frequency from several places that only he can hear. It doesn't do much, but it makes it a bitch to try and find you by listening for your voice. But seeing how he does that whole x-ray bullshit, I'd say we have a few minutes longer to hang out."

Your eyes floated to the phone in his hand, which was in a heavy, most likely shatterproof, case. He put it back into his arm plate, which closed it off from your access, so there was no point in trying for that either. Your blood boiled.

No. There was no use in losing your temper.

That'd only give him more of the upper hand. He expected that of you

You damn sure weren't in the habit of giving assholes what they wanted

You took a deep breath, straightening the skirt of your dress as you sat back in your seat. "Say I do choose Bruce. What's to say I don't change my mind?"

He was hesitant at your sudden cooperative shift. "Not my business. I'm only here to set the stage for you to choose. Bruce is a big boy. If you say enough, he'll back off."

You raised a brow. "If he's such a 'big boy', why'd you do all this instead of letting him approach me instead?"

Sensing you were levelling with him, he plopped down across from you again. "Bruce drags his ass. Especially when it comes to women. Sometimes drastic measures have to be taken to force his hand. To be honest, Bruce is the only choice here. Either you choose him, or I put an end to all this right now."

You didn't like the sound of "put an end to all this"

Not because of the grammatical phrasing either

His tone implied he had plans to keep you from "distracting" Bruce ever again

Was it really that deep???

Your eyes rolled to the side. "With friends like you-"

"Shit gets done," he finished, subtle laugh slipping from behind his mask.

As if on cue, the wall behind him violently seemed to be blown to pieces. The pictures and lamps fell with a helpless crash while you ducked as best you could on the sofa, covering your head for added protection. You were vaguely aware of your captor hovering a bit closer, shielding your unarmored body from any debris--not something a person bent on unaliving you might be concerned with--but your eyes were mostly focused on the figure walking through the hole in the penthouse.

"Clark," you breathed, a relieved feeling rushing over you. However, the Clark you knew wasn't there. This was Superman. A very pissed off Superman. His cold gaze swept over the armored man in front of you.

"Get away from her," he demanded, his tone sharper and colder than you'd ever heard from him. You've heard him be sarcastic, even a little cold and vindictive. But this. This was deadly.

"Easy, Flyboy. I haven't laid a single finger on her," Jason smirked.

He didn't respond. Instead, using his lightning speed, his powerful grip was around the man's throat, lifting him from the floor. You watched, polarized by the sight, unsure if he was bluffing or really about to snap his neck.

Sure, he'd abducted you and put you there and part of you was thinking he got what he deserved

But you didn't really want to see him die for it

Though, something wasn't right. Clark stumbled and his grip weakened around his throat until he'd dropped him altogether.

"Clark?!" you gasped, rushing to his side as the Red Hood corrected himself and caught his breath.

"See now that....That's why I prepared this little contingency," he said, one of the compartments in his wrist gauntlet overturned and revealing a glowing green stone in it. Kryptonite.

You'd heard and written about it's effects before, but it was the first time you'd seen it first hand. It looked radioactive almost. It was a sickening green, but you weren't the one feeling its effects. It was Clark.

His breathing was steady, but he looked drained, his forearms shaking from exposure to even that small bit. The chamber rotated shut again and Clark looked to breathe normally.

"You okay?"

He flashed you a soft, but brief smirk. "Are you okay?"

"A little rattled, but nothing I can't handle," you joked smoothly, not wanting the masked asshole to think he'd gotten the best of you.

Jason straightened himself and plopped on the sofa across from the both of you again.

"Now. Since I have your attention-"

"Jason," Bruce's voice called from across the room with every authority of a father. Jason didn't seem deterred a bit. In fact, he relaxed further into his chair.

"Bout time you got here."

"What you're doing isn't necessary," Bruce said evenly. Not unlike someone talking someone from a ledge.

You got the sense that you were a subject that was talked about before, though you didn't really know the context.

This time, he took his mask off, his eyes fiercely aimed at Bruce. He tossed a bitter chuckle at him.

"It's not necessary? Funny, for a while there, I thought this little tryst was all you seemed to fuckin' care about. You couldn't even come to see her when she called you."

You looked between them. Was he referring to Selena Kyle? Whoever that was.

Bruce exhaled. "I was busy-"

"Right. We're all supposed to understand how you piss off to play playboy while she's fighting for her life right now-"

You jumped when he screeched suddenly, his body stiffening as a jolt of electricity hit him. As he collapsed, a smaller, curvier form stood just behind him, taser in hand. Catwoman.

"Tantrum's over, Junior," she said, stepping over his body and meeting Bruce across the room.

"I might've known you'd keep your eye on him," Bruce said, eyeing her with an eerily similar look he was giving you in the park.

Your reporter senses were tingling, sensing the obvious history the two of them had.

The soap opera had taken a sudden left turn

At this point you didn't care anymore

You had a headache

(was Jason okay, or...?)

(he's breathing. it's fine.)

"So I take it the dress-" Bruce said, his eyes flickering over to you. You suddenly felt self conscious and exposed being brought back into the conversation.

"His idea, my execution. I mean. I couldn't very well let him undress an unconscious woman like a creep," she said.

You found yourself liking Catwoman quite a bit

Of course, you wondered why she'd help him if she knew what he was doing was wrong in the first place

But, truly like a cat, she had her own logic and reasons

Still, you were relieved that Jason hadn't seen all your business while you were out cold

"After I heard he was speeding off towards Metropolis, I couldn't bring myself to let him make a dumbass of himself. Call it a favor for my favorite Bat," she winked, though he looked less than amused to be owing her anything. She tapped the tip of his nose before exiting through the generous hole in the room made by Clark.

Then it was quiet. You helped Clark to his feet, though he seemed to be regaining his strength fairly quickly after the stone was securely back inside Jason's armor.

"You must think the worst of me," Bruce said, running a hand through his hair.

"I never really though much of you to begin with, but I'm sure you have an explanation," Clark said, still sounding thoroughly pissed.

Though not homicidal, so that was something

Bruce seemed to be wrestling with idea of telling you everything, but given the situation, it couldn't be helped. Jason had forced his hand.

"Strange's goons poisoned Barbara with a synthetic drug."

"I'm guessing that's why you needed this," Clark said, handing Bruce a vial.

Bruce took it, immediately scanning it with his watch. "The compounds in the poison is the only way to create an antidote. She left a tracker with one of them as they fled the scene and it pinpointed them being in the outskirts of Metropolis. Going in alone might've meant suicide, or worse, them smashing the vial. I needed to send someone they weren't expecting."

Your eyes drifted to Clark, who looked to have simmered down considerably. He was definitely not someone you'd expect. Your eyes swept down his solid form in his blood-stained spandex- Wait...

Did he kill for that vial?

When you'd imagined Superman, you always pictured a dude that always knocked out bad guys and sent them to jail, not to the cemetery

"What did you do?" you asked quietly, turning towards him. He didn't look at you immediately, instead taking a deep breath.

“When I saw you two on the street, I knew it was the perfect way to get him to do what I needed,” Bruce spoke up, sounding oddly like he was trying to defend him.

Clark’s eyes narrowed dangerously and Bruce didn’t say anything more, surrendering the situation to him.

Clark turned to you, his eyes softening considerably.

You knew what he wanted to say. What he was ashamed to admit. But you were done.

“Take me home," you said before he could even find the words to offer.

He quietly lifted you in his arms and effortlessly sailed from the window, leaving Bruce and Jason behind.