Chapter 10: I'm Not Invincible

Bruce couldn't let the break-in at Arkham and the discovery of a powerful being go unchecked. So, as he usually did, he dove himself into research and attempted to figure out the red blur caught on camera.

What digging he did on the matter of the mystery man led to many dead ends, much to his own frustration. There were a few sightings of a strange red blur or a new super-person zooming through the sky. All the pictures were blurry and unhelpful. To his own concern, a lot of the sightings were in Gotham at the moment.

Dating back one week, the first mention of a man with a red cape popped up on social media. Most seemed to write it off as Superman or perhaps the Flash, but looking outside the United States, these sightings spanned across the world. In just a week. At first, the sightings were random, and written off as a hoax or some other superhero, but Bruce knew better. Tracking through his own satellites, he's able to view all flight travel as fast as Superman. Usually, he'd be able to see the many fast trips Clark did around Metropolis or around the country, however, he noticed that all locations where the red blur was sighted also had traces of Superman-level flight speed. They spanned all around the world, and just after the breakout in Arkham Asylum, what few posts about the mystery man were all centered in one place.

Gotham.

For some reason, this red-capped man decided to stay in Gotham, or perhaps he was looking for something in Gotham. He sighed, having a Superman-level threat fly around Gotham wasn't good. He wanted to ask Mark, he definitely knew the answer and Bruce knew he was connected to this man. After all, his power set was the same as Mark's. But, he made a promise, and so far, whoever this man was hadn't found whatever he was looking for. Bruce hoped the caped man wouldn't make a move til tomorrow.

Batman waited a day, just as he promised Steph. He understood where she was coming from, and despite Batman's logical brain insisting on interrogating and figuring out a major threat, he knew Mark was exhausted. He seemed a little better after having dinner at Kent's house, but Bruce knew he was having a rough time. Where the problems came from, he was still unsure. But he suspected it stemmed from his father, who the boy had trouble talking about and said was a Viltrumite. A tyrant species. He had his suspicions about Mark's father, whether he was abused or not. Either way, Bruce was living up to his promise and expected to ask Mark in the morning.

However that plan was thrown aside, as in the middle of the night, while Bruce was still in the cave and Tim was tinkering with a camera, he got an alert. Bruce paused, hands hovering over the keyboard as the bat symbol flashed on his screen. After hours of research and looking at sightings of the red blur, Bruce had set all his satellites to capture and record any movement at the speed of Superman. He hoped to catch the man on camera, and luckily, it seemed one of his satellites had succeeded. He clicked the notification, which then displayed footage caught from a satellite over the ocean. At first, nothing was there, just the vast expanse of water. Then a red blur flashed across the camera, the water forming waves underneath it. It left ripples in its wake, disturbing the sea and Bruce's hope for a quiet night.

"What's wrong?" Tim asked and leaned over his shoulder. He too saw the red blur, its second cameo on camera. "Again?" But this time, he could slow the footage down and see the perpetrator. Since his satellite footage was better quality than the asylum- and people's phones- he could get a clear view of his face and identify the threat. He slowed the video down and paused right as the red blur entered the screen. Bruce zoomed in, the pixelated footage slowly giving way to a clear image.

There he saw the face of a grown man. Black hair, white streaks within it, mustache, white skin, blue eyes, and wearing a… superhero suit. Colored red and white. His eyes were bloodshot and despite his attempt at apathy, rage glittered deep within his face. The man looked furious and his computer didn't recognize the face, there was no data or records of this specific man. Bruce pulled up a map depicting air travel. If he ignored planes and focused on an airborne object traveling about the speed of light, he could easily track the man and where he was heading, and it wasn't good.

"This man is heading straight for Gotham across the Pacific. He should reach our location in ten minutes," Batman muttered, or, if they were lucky, the man was heading somewhere else. But Bruce wasn't lucky.

Tim's eyes widened. "And… I'm assuming he isn't here for a nice chat?" Tim said, Bruce grunted in return. Unless he was mistaken, they should prepare for a fight. Wherever he lands, they need to be prepared, and he wasn't going to underestimate his opponent.

"Father, I'm ready for patrol," Damian appeared in the Batcave and went to stand beside him.

"Good, get Mark. Now," Bruce demanded, watching his saltalie track the man across the ocean, the red dot slowly making its way to Gotham. There was little time left. If he landed anywhere else in the US, it could spell trouble for the country.

Damian frowned, "For what-"

"We don't have time. Get him now," Bruce said, his voice leaving no room for argument. Damian scoffed but walked away, sensing the urgency in his tone. Bruce sighed, he couldn't handle this alone, even if he wanted to. It would be too risky to face an enemy who could be as strong as Superman without backup. He pressed a button on the computer, which instantly sent an emergency call to Oracle. Within a few rings, she picked up, her face appearing on the monitor.

"Jesus Christ B… do you know what time it is?" She groaned, rubbing a hand across her face and setting her glasses askew.

"We have an emergency. Contact everyone and tell them to convene at the Batcave. Call Superman as well."

"Do you need the Justice League?" Oracle said all tiredness was gone as she snapped to attention. It wasn't every day that Bruce wanted the whole family together, let alone Superman as well. But he had a feeling that Superman would be helpful.

"Put them on standby," he heard clicking from her end. Within just a minute, she turned back to him.

"Ok. Everyone should arrive within two to five minutes. Luckily, they all stayed in Gotham for patrol. B, what's going on?"

"Unknown anomaly. Possibly Superman-level threat," Batman said. Considering how easily this man broke into Arkham, killed everyone, and traveled at high speeds, he wasn't to be taken lightly.

"Shit. That's bad. I'll keep an eye out," he was eternally grateful for Oracle- Barbara. Bruce didn't know where he'd be without her.

"Thank you," he whispered and disconnected the call.

"Superman-level threat?" Tim muttered.

"Yes," Bruce said, staring at the pure anger on the man's face. Bruce assumed his gloves might be caked in blood if it weren't for them being red. It looked like it. But the camera could be wrong.

Tim ran a hand through his hair, "Mondays, am I right?" Bruce fought back a smile at the comment.

Four minutes passed and it felt like hours had gone by instead. Everyone was there except Mark. Bruce looked back at the map, which he couldn't stop checking every few seconds. It seemed every time he blinked the dot would move a little closer.

"Aren't you gonna explain?" Jason snapped. "I was in the middle of something."

"Not until Mark is here," he muttered, speaking of the devil the elevator dinged, Damian walked in first. His face twisted into a deep scowl, glaring at the ground as he walked.

"Apologizes, father. Grayson insisted on going to the restroom," he hissed.

"I had to pee! Is that a crime?" Mark argued before his eyes widened and took in the ensemble of heroes before him. "Woah, what's going on?"

Bruce sighed, "We have a problem. I believe you might know who it is."

—-----

Mark was tired of getting woken up in the middle of the night, especially by Damian. Who had almost slit his throat asking to go to the bathroom before heading to the Batcave. It wasn't his fault his body chose an inconvenient time to relieve itself.

Damian spat plenty of threats on his way down, much of which Mark ignored.

Mark, however, didn't expect the entire bat family geared up and Superman in the Batcave. All there, ready for a battle. Here he thought Damian was being rude, perhaps he wasn't kidding about this being serious. He blinked, trying to chase away the tired from his eyes. He couldn't be tired in the face of danger.

They all perked at his entrance and spared no time getting to the point.

"We have a problem. I believe you might know who it is," who? Mark furrowed his brow and Bruce gestured for him to look at the screen, Mark stepped beside his chair to look. He pulled up security footage from a satellite -this man owned a satellite- slowed it down, til a man came into view. He paused it and Mark felt all the air escape his lungs in one rattling breath.

He knows this man alright. He knows him all too well. Known him since birth, called him a father, and loved him till now. This man raised Mark and pushed him back down to the ground, and he hoped to never see him again. Yet upon the screen, his father lay displayed with fury across his face. Mark knew the look, it was the same look he saw when Dad was beating him to the ground. The same one that brought phantom pains of cracking bone and bloodied skin.

"Do you know him?" Bruce asked. For a second, he couldn't speak. Mark was stuck staring at the screen, his throat clogging up any words that wanted to spill from his mouth. Questions whirled in his head as he stood frozen, why was he here? How? What was he doing?

Then the fear gripped him like a python and threatened to consume him whole. His dad. Was here. His… dad? Mark saw the dried blood covering his gloves on the camera, it painted the bright red a dark brown. He remembered where that blood came from. From Mark, from crashing through a train filled with innocents, from a pilot's head. They all screamed and blood was everywhere. People were dying and thousands were dead, all at the hands of Mark and his father. Everything flashed before his eyes when he glanced at the face of his father on screen. Mark couldn't move, his skin prickled, and he felt warm liquid trailing down his entire body.

Fingers curled into his arms, he remembered the pain of being hit over and over and over and over and over-

"Mark?" He gasped and flinched away from a hand that landed on his shoulder. It was Clark, who pulled the hand away as if he touched something hot. His face twisted with guilt. "Sorry," he mumbled and stepped away as if Mark were a frightened animal. Perhaps he was. Mark sighed and ran a hand through his hair, which slowly began to tremble. Don't panic. Calm down. Just explain who he was, don't think about the past. He told himself and grabbed his hand to stop its insistent trembling. Mark buried all his emotions down and let the hollow feeling absorb him. It helped him breathe again, pretend like nothing happened, and ignore each emotion clawing at him. It helped his hand still in his grip, some semblance of control in himself.

"You know him," Bruce stated, pure white eyes burning right into his face. Mark wanted to shrivel away and die, or for Bruce to take off the damn cowl. Just to see any warmth of life in his eyes, rather than the cold white. He said no such thing and pushed down his emotions further. Ignore it. Explain, he hissed at himself.

"That's my dad," Mark said, his voice wavered despite his attempt at keeping it neutral. Bruce's eyes narrowed, probably noticing every bit of emotion whirling inside him. Mark wanted him to stop looking, he didn't want him to see.

"I see," Clark mumbled, his arms crossed and he scrutinized the image of his father on screen. There was a ripple of surprise across the heroes, something Mark expected. This wasn't the most flattering image of his dad.

"I have so many questions," Duke said.

"We don't have time, he'll be here any minute," Mark almost choked on his own fear at those words. Any minute- he'll be here?? No. No, he can't face him. He can't- "Suit up. We're heading outside into the courtyard," Batman said, Mark gave a stiff nod, even when he wanted to run as far away as he could. He took one long deep breath to gather himself once more, to shove down his riding panic, and made himself move.

It felt surreal to put on his suit, it felt like he was a strung-up puppet. Someone else was moving his wooden limbs and body, not him, they pushed his limbs through the tight fabric and pulled on his cowl. Mark wasn't there, he was just watching, watching the vigilantes gather in the courtyard ready to fight. Then reality set in, and he too was standing beside them. The manor was away from the main city of Gotham, which Mark was glad for. He couldn't handle seeing innocent citizens die again. If anything, Mark didn't know how he would react…

Mark wasn't ready to see his dad either.

"Will he fight us?" Steph asked him, the first to question.

Mark nodded, "Definitely," the anger on Dad's face said enough, he wasn't here for a friendly visit.

"Ok… fun," she whispered.

"Do Viltrumites have any weakness?" Bruce asked and stood beside him, shoulder to shoulder. The presence of Bruce- Batman, was enough to have his shoulders relax. Even at the impending doom soon to arrive at their feet. Mark frowned and stared at the sky, waiting for his father to appear. To fight. Again. His throat constricted, he didn't want to. Like a child, Mark was tempted to fall to the ground and throw a tantrum, cry, and sob about wanting to be left alone. He was tired, still exhausted from fighting his dad once, to do it again would be overkill.

Mark felt his eyes water a little, "no," he got out, his voice cracking. "Viltrumites have pure blood, no known weakness."

"Mark…?" Dick whispered, his brows furrowed with concern. He didn't look at him, it would only make speaking harder.

"Well that's not fucking good," Jason said. "Why would your dad attack us anyway? Can't we just explain that we're friends? Pals?"

"Oh then we'll sing kumbaya and hold hands next," Tim stated in a dry tone.

"Shut up," Jason hissed.

"Mark," Dick said again and cut the two off. "What's… going on?"

Mark swallowed the lump in his throat. He'll have to talk about now, then. Mark didn't want to, his entire being wanted to curl up and hide forever. But the words were tumbling out, a waterfall spilling from his mouth. There was no turning back. "Viltrumites are planet conquerors, for the empire Viltrum. Dad raised me as a human, I didn't know the truth of my lineage. My dad lied and told me he was here to help and protect the earth. But it was all a lie," Mark clenched his fist, feeling anger thrum through his veins. It helped ease the terror running through him.

"Then, why was he there?" Steph asked.

"He was there to weaken Earth, to prepare it for take over. He killed the Guardians, and once I found out, I fought him," his voice cracked. "He's insane, spouting nonsense about how useless and worthless humans are, about my mom being nothing more than a pet." Mark practically spat out the word, to this day, he still can't believe it. Dad loved Mom, that was a fact to Mark for his entire life, but apparently, his whole life was a lie.

He had never loved them.

"Fuck kid…" Jason whispered.

"I'm sorry," Duke muttered. "I mean, that's fucked up. To find out your dad is some…"

"Monster?" Mark supplied, tilting his head towards Duke.

"Yeah. That," he whispered.

"That's why you came here beaten to shit," Tim whispered. Despite not looking at them, he could feel the pity from them, he wanted to shrivel up and die. Mark clenched his jaw, there was no going back now.

"Yeah. Dad didn't take kindly to me resisting him. I was teleported away before he could do more… maybe kill me? I don't know," Mark shrugged and ran a hand through his hair. He didn't dare look at them, staring at the sky instead. Mark didn't want to see their faces, if he did, he'd end up crying. He'd become a blubbering mess, exposed and weak.

"But that blood wasn't just yours," Bruce said, and he may have imagined it, but his voice was trembling as well. He spared a glance to the stoic figure beside him, whose head was tilted to the sky as well. For some reason, despite Batman, for all Mark knew, being a regular human, Mark felt comfort in his presence. How he held himself in such a way that made him seem immovable, however ridiculous it was, considering Batman wouldn't stand a chance against his dad.

He'd be just like Darkwing. Mark clenched his teeth at the thought.

"No. I'm… sorry," Mark could feel his cracks grow, about to shatter again. His shoulders rose and his chest twisted with guilt. He didn't want to disappoint them, he really didn't- "I tried to stop him, I tried to save them. But he just… killed them. Made me kill them. He didn't care how many people died, I…" Mark sighed and blinked furiously to keep the tears at bay. He swallowed the lump in his throat and silence stretched across them, Mark didn't move to fill it. He didn't want to. If he talked anymore, he'd break.

"This is fucked up," Jason was the first to speak. "That's saying something coming from me."

"... Inexcusable. Your dad is scum," Cass whispered, she sounded furious, her voice shaking as she spoke.

"So the train… that nightmare-" Tim whispered. "Was it all real? That happened, didn't it?"

"Yeah, it was similar to that," he muttered. What else was he supposed to say? That he had nightmares almost every night? That he could still taste and smell blood, even when there was none there? Mark knew he wasn't mentally well. But he wasn't here to drop his trauma, explain each and every fucking thing he went through as soon as he got his powers. How in reality, getting his powers was perhaps the worst thing to happen to him.

"I'm so sorry, Mark. I'm sorry," Steph whispered. Mark didn't say anything, if he did, his voice would surely crack and his facade would crumble into dust.

Mark frowned, seeing a faint dot in the sky. Was that-

In a boom, his father appeared in front of them. Before anyone could so much as blink or say anything. His red cape flowed behind him, and he stood in front of Mark, still hovering in the air. It was strange to be faced with such anger again, a face he used to find comfort in. Not fear. Their relationship did grow strange once he got his powers, and even more once he beat the living hell out of Mark. At this point, he was unsure how to feel or what to say.

"Hi Dad," he muttered, refusing to so much as flinch in his presence. He wouldn't be weak, not now. Mark's heart began to beat like a drum, every part of him wanting to turn tail and run.

"Mark," he simply said, perhaps he too was at a loss of what to say. He looked at him, Mark could see the bags under his eyes, how exhausted he appeared. He probably wasn't much better than Mark. But he felt little sympathy for him.

"How did you get here?" Mark decided to ask before they fought- or Mark got his ass handed again. He was expecting it. Why else would Dad be here if not to teach him another lesson?

"I could ask the same thing," his dad said, and when his face became pinched, Mark knew he was going to start. Mark tensed, not prepared to fight again. "You ran away."

"I didn't run," he found himself saying, not a thought behind his words. Mark was already scrambling, rushing to explain himself. "The watch it- it teleported me away, I didn't mean to leave," Mark cursed himself for stuttering, for being afraid.

"Doesn't matter, you're coming with me," Dad floated towards him, Mark's fists curled, he was about to protest again, only for Bruce to speak up.

"I don't think so," he said and put an arm in front of him. They were going to die. His dad was going to kill them all, and Mark would be helpless to watch. Again. His breath caught in his throat, a sob trying to force its way through his mouth. He didn't want to fight again. He didn't want to. It would hurt. People would die- his friends would die-

His dad scoffed, "Mark, who are these people?" His eyes bore into him, Mark's shoulders rose and he pushed down his growing panic in favor of protecting the family behind him.

"My friends," he stated, sparing them a single glance before focusing back on his dad. He could stand between them. He could at least distract his dad.

"Friends? Did you listen to anything I said?" His dad sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was disappointed. He looked frustrated, he was going to kill them- "You'll live for thousands of years Mark. They'll die before you can blink. Why bother? It's a waste of time," his heart twisted at the thought, at his words. He remembered. But Mark didn't care. He took a deep breath and pushed past the fear growing within him.

"Dad, let's not fight. Batman has been helping me find a way home, he can take us both back," Mark pleaded. Perhaps some reason could be found, a middle ground, where they didn't have to fight- not until they returned home. He didn't want this world's greatest heroes to be slaughtered like they were back home.

"Batman?" Dad snorted. "What is he supposed to be, Darkwing? Come on Mark. Let's not waste our time here-"

"No," the word tumbled out of his mouth before he could even think. Mark watched his dad's brows lower, his heart stuttered, but he continued. "We'll stay here and wait til Batman finds a way home, and then we'll leave. No one has to get hurt," Mark took his stance, looking his dad in the eye. He wouldn't waver, not when his friends were in danger.

"Is that what this is about? Don't tell me you care about them," his dad said. "Friends Mark? With humans? Maybe you need another lesson," Dad's eyes darkened, and Mark's entire body froze. No. Not them. Mark wouldn't let him.

But could he stop him?

"Does that lesson involve our death? If so, I don't want to die again," Jason said and pulled out a gun.

His dad chuckled, "It's cute that you think that'll hurt me," Dad said, before turning to him. Mark couldn't suppress the flinch that escaped him, he almost expected a punch. "You need to grow up-"

"I don't think he does," the next thing Mark knew, he had Clark standing between him and his dad. He stepped aside, further from them both. A look of pure anger was on Clark's face that he had never seen before. If Mark didn't know better, he'd think he and his dad were arch-nemesis.

"Who are you?" Dad said, looking him up and down.

"Superman," he said, voice as cold as an icy tundra.

"Superman? Really?" His dad chuckled and looked back at him. "What a crew you've got here Mark. Anyways, step aside superboy. I'm talking to my son."

"No, you're not talking to him. You're threatening him. How can you call yourself a father?" Superman spat out and his dad sighed, rubbing his face. He was provoking him, Mark could see a vein begin to pop out on his forehead. His dad was going to attack, Clark knew what he was doing, right?

"Alright, I'm done talking. Let's get this over with," Mark wanted to cry.

"I'm not done," Superman hissed. "But I can make an exception," the next thing Mark knew, the two burst into the air. Mark stumbled back and watched as two blurs of red and blue began to clash. It trembled the sky with each hit, and he feared Clark didn't know what he was getting himself into.

"I've got to-" Mark started, feet lifting off the ground, before he was pulled back by Batman. A hand on his shoulder that kept him glued to the ground.

"No."

"But my dad could.. he could-"

"I'm sorry, but your dad is no match for an angry Supes," Dick said, a pleased grin on his face. The idea was absurd to him, Mark couldn't help but stare at Dick as if he were crazy. His dad was the strongest person on Earth, not even the Guardians or any other hero could take him down. How would Clark do it? Actually… How strong was Clark anyway? "Even then, he doesn't know Superman's weakness."

"He has a weakness?" Mark muttered and looked back to see the two dance around in the sky before they suddenly burst away with an Earth-shaking boom. Mark swiveled around to watch, but they were already gone. "Shouldn't we go after them? Just.. just to be sure?"

"They'll be back once Superman is done," Batman said, a small smirk on his lips.

"What makes you so confident Superman will win?" Mark demanded. He couldn't understand their confidence, were they not aware of his dad's power? Mark should help him! He- he could help…

"You can bleed, right Mark?" Batman said, he shrugged.

"Well, yeah. But it takes a lot," he could definitely bleed. Mark was well aware.

"Superman can't."

"Wha…?" That didn't make sense. How could he not bleed? If he can't bleed, then how could his dad damage… oh.

"He's a man of steel. Nothing can pierce his skin, nothing. Except one thing. One Weakness. But trust me," Batman smirked at him. "Your dad won't find it lying around. So don't worry," Mark sighed, still looking at the sky with worry between his brows. He didn't want Superman to get hurt, but he also didn't want his dad to get hurt as well.

It was a conflicting thought to have and all Mark could hope was that Clark wouldn't kill him… he wouldn't. Right?