#lex is coming...

Walking into work after missing a day was always a daunting experience. You’d become known as “that person” that didn’t deserve to work at LuthorCorp of all places. Of course, you were a bad employee across all types of businesses, but being a bad worker at the corporate empire? A place that people beg to be apart of? With paychecks to die for? You came off as arrogant at best.

Usually, you’d sadly scan in, take the elevator upstairs with your head hung low, and march your ass all the way to your managers office for a stern talking to and another write up. But today, weirdly enough, your keycard wasn’t letting you in? You swore that you only had one write up this past work year? You’d always get hurt and recover on your off day, minus the one time. You hadn’t warranted being fired??

Standing at the entrance of the elevator, you panicked whilst clenching your messenger bag filled with all the files you’d missed working on from yesterday.

You were beginning to feel the horrors of unemployment.

A kind soul tapped your shoulders. “Excuse me.”

He was a man with sunken eyes, fair skin that was clearly more pale than it should be, and too much hair. Definitely an engineer, you thought.

You moved to the side, and you let him scan his card. Getting on the elevator, you were confused as to how he wouldn’t have been able to ascertain what a malfunctioning card meant. Nothing “malfunctions” at LuthorCorp.

It was a silent ride to the top, and luckily the depressed engineer had enough clearance on his card to where you didn’t have to rescan yours to get to your department.

Arriving at your floor, you were greeted with a lot of looks, not all kind. Of course, you had the friendly neighborhood employees that were almost too kind to be there, and then you had the majority that made up the workplace culture you’d come to understand.

Passing through groups of cubicles, avoiding the staring, you walked to your superior’s office like you had done so many times before.

Knocking on her door, you stood, waiting for an answer.

…

It was taking a little bit longer than usual. Maybe she didn't hear you?

You knocked again, heavier handed.

…

How could she know it was you knocking? It’s not like this dark oak wood door was see through?? Was she a secret metahuman who could detect ungrateful employees through any surface???

Taking a deep breath, you momentarily stopped your mind spiral. You knew if you turned around, you see heads quickly swivel in the opposite direction, and that’s simply something you didn’t want to experience.

You frowned. So I just wait till she answers? Do I keep knocking?

“Hey genius!” You turned your head in the direction of the mean greeting. “She’s at a meeting! Quit knocking!”

Right! Meetings are a thing that exists! You brightened a little at this information. She wasn’t even on this floor! All the meeting rooms were in the upper levels, all you had to do was wait!

Skirting towards the elevator docking area, you stood, leaning against the left wall of the opening. You could wait until she gets back! Then you could have a chat about your employment, probably you mostly begging for another chance, at least until you found another job.

While waiting you were tempted to get out your phone and doom-scroll on the #ironwill tag on Twitter. It was always a great way to see how loved you were and gave you the boost you needed. But you had a feeling that it wouldn’t be so loving right now.

It was a grueling wait; you were tempted to give up—oh the door is opening!!

It’s a late employee, that was basically the less-worse you. Motherfucker had the audacity to glare at you as they walked in! Hmmph!

People are so rude, You scowled.

As you reached for your phone, the elevator closest to you opened.

You straightened up. It was your boss, your heart sank, but not because it was her, but she was with her boss.

You’d never seen Lex Luthor in person. He was more of a fictitious figure than a person in your mind. The self-made trillionaire that dabbles in every and all things science, technology, engineering, and mathematics.

His usual black pinstriped three-piece suit and his piercing gaze were so much more abysmal in person, and you weren’t even the one in conversation. His presence made an impression, as if the air got colder.

“Don’t disappoint me, Petra. I’m counting on you.” He spoke as your manager was leaving the elevator, folder tightly clasped to her person. His eyes momentarily glanced over at you, allowing you both to lock eyes for a moment. And for a split-second, his eyes seemed to have glared at you before immediately going back to his other employee.

You shivered in your stiffness. Did I just imagine that?

If you weren’t so focused on Mr. Luthor, you’d be able to see just how worried your superior looked. It was definitely not a positive meeting.

The elevator closed as quickly as it opened, leaving you and your employer shaken at varying levels. She didn’t seem to even register you were right there to the left of her. You debated if you should tap her shoulder.

Slowly reaching her frame as to not scare her, she noticed you inching along.

She backed away from you, almost startled, saying your name, “What the hell are you doing here?!”

You began, “Ms. Petra, can you please forgive me?

“I know I’ve been a bad employee, taken hours long breaks, had way too many no call, no shows, and slept at my desk, but I promise you I deserve employment! I mean I’mateamplayerandIlove,justlove,myfellowemployees! SuretheymightbemeantomesometimesandthinkI’mungratefulbutIknowtheylovemedeepdowninside!—”

(For my dyslexic friends: I’m a team player and I love, just love, my fellow employees! Sure they might be mean to me sometimes and think I’m ungrateful but I know they love me deep down inside!)

“Please stop talking.” She said pathetically, lacking her usual spunk. She looked like a abandoned kicked puppy that just got out of the rain.

You shut up, waiting for her to gain her speech. “First of all, yeah you’re forgiven I guess, it’s only your second write up at this point and you mostly get your work in on time despite being terrible,” she paused, taking a breath and rubbing her temples, “Second of all, why are you begging this much? Usually your begging is like, half of that.”

You looked at her incredulously. “You… fired me?” You quirked a brow.

“No I didn’t.” She replied, deadpanned.

“Then why wasn’t my keycard working getting on the elevator today?”

She shrugged.

“Do people track who comes in?”

“Yeah, security, but that’s usually a.. well… security issue… ,” she slow blinked, “What I’m trying to say is that they wouldn’t be able to “cancel” your card.”

You looked down at your card, perplexed and even more horrified. Who locked you out?

“Look, I just had an important meeting and instead of thinking about it I want to drink the good Merlot that’s been aging in my desk, so I’m going to do that, ok? Now get back to work.”

You nodded your head, walking to your desk and sitting in your chair. Putting down your bag next to you, your hands shivered a little.

You wondered if LuthorCorp really did have malfunctions, and in that same thought, if they had employee tech support?

Who was on your case??

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔ 　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　 ੈ✧˳·˖✶ ✦

You’d carried the same worry all the way home. It made you paranoid in a way.

If someone had something against you, then they might just know your identity. And if they know your identity, and worked at LuthorCorp, AND you were injured? You’d never once said you were “cooked” until this very moment.

Closing the door to your apartment and locking it, you were tempted to put a chair up to the door handle in case your unemployment scaring assailant decided to meet you in person.

Would Batman take me seriously if I asked for help? You pondered, putting a chair up to your door handle.

Wait no, you could defend yourself! You might not be able to take a punch, but you could always just defend yourself with your ferrokinesis! There was nothing to worry about! You’d almost forgotten who you were, haha! You ARE Ironwill! Nothing could touch you and win without getting hurt first!

Changing into your undergarments, you crawled into your bed and debated your afternoon.

The smart thing to do would be to stay in and rest for the sake of your ribs, you did have an appointment with Dr. Rock tomorrow that you wanted to look good for. The passionate thing to do would be watching police scanners and returning to your young vigilante roots, hopefully catching some media coverage in the process. The dangerous thing to do would be to go back to LuthorCorp, and search for your meddling asshole.

For the sake of your nerves and your ego, you picked the second option. Whoever this person was, if they were watching you, you couldn’t dare show weakness by taking the easy route and staying in your apartment. You also needed to show the world you weren’t weak! It’s Ironwill not Graphitewill, ugh.

Getting up from your bed, you put on your “low key” clothes and mask, the stuff you wore before you had a costume. You’d never worn these clothes outside of your early hero days, never parting with them because of how much nostalgia they brought you. You hadn’t worn the clothes in almost a decade, that’s how long ago high school was.

Turning to the mirror in your room, you realized you definitely grew a little bit. Even feeling them on your body, the clothes were a little snug—they showed your form a little more boldly than you were comfortable with—, but otherwise they fit perfectly. You’d never thought you’d need them again.

Unfortunately for you, it was still daylight. Trying to be a hero in all black would grant you more individuality then you’d prefer.

You groaned, “Waiting for the sun to set was always the worst part…”

That’s was one aspect of being your neighborhood high school hero that you’d always hated.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔ 　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　 ੈ✧˳·˖✶ ✦

Taking a stroll around the city, you certainly got your steps in, but no crime was happening from what you could observe or hear from your little radio.

Usually as soon as the sun sets, folks would jump at the gun for a mugging, a high speed chase, an opportunity to burn an apartment complex, something! Not to say it was boring, which it should be! Boring cities are safe cities! Metropolis isn’t Gotham. But, it was boring.

The ever-looming threat of your work nemesis wasn’t helping either. You were beginning to think you should’ve picked the dangerous option, anxiety be damned.

—“PETTY THEFT ON PUNNET DRIVE AT THE BP GAS STATION! HAS ESCALATED TO A HOSTAGE SITUATION! CODE RED, BACKUP NEEDED!”—

Now that was something up your alley!

Running, well more like a brisk jog for the love of your ribs, you arrived at the scene from the back. You heard police presence and some nosy pedestrians that were probably recording. You honed in on chatter about a male, presumably high school aged, having holed himself in the gas station like a fortress, taking the cashier as collateral. The demand he proposed was if the police left, and he was safely allowed to leave, he would release the cashier, and no one would be harmed.

This was perfect! A job that you were made for, kind of.

You could easily manipulate metal with some drawbacks of course —the brain tearing— but it got worse when the metal was dispersed in a substance. Humans, for example, have metal in them, but aren’t made of metal. So, if it’s hard to manipulate metal period, it’s harder to concentrate on where specific metals are located. Especially enough to apprehend people, which they could fight against, making it worse.

Please don’t let this be how I get a stroke and die. You thought, taking a deep breath.

Ideally there would be something you could hit the criminal with that was metal, but that always carried a risk of reaction time. You might not be fast enough to whack the kid before they realized, which put the hostage in danger.

Now, in order for your powers to work at all, you needed to see what you were manipulating. This is hard to do when a gas station only has windows in the front and left and right sides where you have to be almost completely visible just to look through them.

Taking a deep breath, you proceeded to the right side of the gas station slowly. It was the side that was less visible, allowing you to peak through the window.

The kid seemed to be pacing, looking more scared than the hostage, an underpaid alternative woman from what you could see.

You began to sense where the metal was in his body, squinting as you did so like it made a difference. Getting to a point where you had a grip on the guy, you began to make him surrender.

You had him put down his weapon and open the door with his hands up as he looked in horror at his body not responding to his commands. He gave no fight towards your manipulation, and if he did, it felt like nothing.

It was still draining all the same, but you felt better about how draining it was, so it made you feel better.

Only after the police got a hold of him did you let him go, almost collapsing as you did. Manipulating humans took a lot of your energy and brain power, literally.

A voice broke through the crowd of civilians you didn’t know was there. “Look over there! There’s someone dressed in black!”

“They must’ve stopped the mugger!” Another one gasped.

“That person! It’s a new hero!”

In an instant, phones were on you like ants on food. Before they could get a good look, you flew the scene. You couldn’t let your doctor find out you were using your powers while on bed rest. Vigilantes are “low key” for a reason.

After you got a far enough distance away, the adrenaline wore off, and your ribs were screaming at you. You leaned against the wall of the dark alley you landed in. The pain was a tad dizzying, but nothing you couldn’t stave off! You just… needed a minute…

Taking a couple deep breaths, you took off your mask, finding yourself hot. Gently caressing your left side, you rested your head fully against the wall, tilting your head up towards the night sky.

When you finally got to a spot where you could get up, you used the wall to pull yourself up, deciding to walk the rest of the way back home. You were satiated for tonight. No doubt “that person” would be trending, maybe some smart cookies would connect the manipulation to your known skill set. You sure hoped so. Your side hurt like a bitch and a half.

Trying your hardest not to limp, you started—

BZZZZT!

You felt the shock in your bad side, sending shocks through your entire body, and pain enough to bring you to tears. You tried to swing around to your left to meet your attacker, but they tripped you before you could fully meet their face, falling on your right side, feeling something had broken there too. Your ribs couldn’t catch a break.

Your potential kidnapper reached down to meet you, brandishing something you assumed was a syringe from the metal glare it emitted, but it was hard to see with the little light that surrounded you.

“You-agh! You couldn’t have thought t-to do this when I was already down—ah! get OFF ME—!” You yelled, fighting whoever the hell this was from sticking whatever they had in your flesh.

Unfortunately, you were worn mentally, and this was not helping. Your mind was spinning from a mixture from exhaustion and pain, and it was getting harder to defend yourself on whatever never-ending strength your attacker had.

You felt something small stick itself into your shoulder, feeling something seep into your veins.

You were out in a blip.

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a/n : can you tell my wattpad habits are still with me? XD Hope you enjoyed!