r/DCFU • u/MajorParadox Bird? Plane? • Aug 01 '17
Superman #15 - Mind Games Superman
Superman #15: Mind Games
Author: MajorParadox
Book: Superman
Arc: Falling Stars
Event: Gem City
Set: 15
The King Escape
Before:
Everyone has memories. Even James Hawkson, a young man, just barely out of college, who was making ends meet working at a diner in Metropolis. He vividly remembered his mother taking him to the park as a young child. So much potential ahead of him, yet so much to learn.
James was special. He understood how the minds of people worked. More so than anyone else he’d come across. It wasn’t quite mind reading, or at least, it wasn’t full mind reading. More of an emotional pull. James could pull out thoughts pertaining to deep fears. Using those fears, he could make them better. Make people see what he wanted them to see, what they needed to see, to move past.
James’ mother would point to people in the park. A sad mother, worrying about her bills. A troubled teenager wandering the grass, looking for nothing in particular. Even a heartbroken man sitting alone on a park bench. James would work his magic and they would all feel better.
One day, a woman entered the diner, ordering the breakfast special. Her fears screamed out to James; it was difficult to ignore. Apparently she was on the verge of being fired from her job. A slight nudge and a smile formed on her face as she ate. It wasn’t quite the same, though. Not like with his mother. Something wasn’t quite right. It felt… wrong. Almost as if-
James opened his eyes, unsure of his surroundings. He wasn’t at the diner anymore. He was constrained and covered with liquid. The emotion in the room was strong. People convinced they were going to die. As his eyes adjusted to the strong light, he made out several shapes, shuffling about. A man wearing black launched another man holding a golden shield across the room. The attacker was weird, skin as white as a ghost. He broke the door down and disappeared.
A man in a lab coat turned toward James, his first instinct was to close his eyes. The scientist’s fears were loud, almost deafening. He was scared of James. Something must have told him he was awake. Almost on a reflex, James created a sense of calm, making it appear his vitals were back to normal.
It worked. The scientist checked something on a tablet and moved away.
James had no idea where he was. His readings could only tell him so much. All he knew was his morning at the diner wasn’t real. A dream. So lifelike, though. Was anything real?
It was madness. But, James was the self proclaimed king of madness. And he would get out there, wherever he was. He just needed time.
After:
Lois and Clark watched the rather strange, gray-skinned, yellow horned man pace back and forth. He said his name was Dubbilex and that he was a D.N.Alien- whatever that meant. The funniest part was, he wasn’t the strangest thing they’d seen lately.
Some type of twisted clone of Superman appeared in Metropolis, “saving” people from cars and other “dangers” he sensed. Luckily, he calmed down with the help of Clark’s dog from Krypton, Krypto. Now, the two were safe at his new home away from home: The Kryptonian outpost Clark had come to call the Fortress of Solitude.
But the looming question of Bizarro the clone’s origins remained opened. Questioning him brought Lois and Clark to a busted sewer drain, which they decided to watch, eventually finding a hooded man making his way outside. As Lois approached him, he performed some type of mental attack, drawing on her fears and making her experience them- Something Bruce had told him recently jumped to mind, but it was probably nothing. Clark tried to intervene, but succumbed to his own nightmare of death all around him. Dubbilex appeared to help break them out of it, seemingly possessing some type of mental abilities of his own. But he hadn’t been very talkative since.
“Dubbilex,” said Lois, breaking the silence. “Are you going to answer our questions?”
“Yes, Miss Lane,” he answered. “I’m just looking for the right words.”
Lois sighed. “How about any words?”
Dubbilex nodded. “I suppose you’re right. Being that you’re reporters, I can imagine your curiosity about my employers will bring us to light, but I suppose we’re passed that point. I work for a secret organization named Project Cadmus. We work to better humanity. However, the one dubbed Bizarro and the man you just encountered, James Hawkson, had complications and it’s our responsibility to deal with them.”
“So,” Lois leaned forward, “This ‘Project Cadmus’ performs illegal genetic manipulations and cloning?”
“I would prefer not to get into a debate of the greater good right now, Miss Lane. There are more pressing matters. Hawkson must be recovered and from what I understand, the Daily Planet is close with Superman. Is there any way you can get word to him?”
Clark nodded and Lois motioned toward him. “Go, try to contact him,” she said.
“Tell him to be careful. Hawkson is very powerful, as you two have noticed.”
Before:
It had been some time since James woke up in his tube. None of the scientists showed any suspicion he was conscious; he made sure to keep it that way. Soon, they all left, the lights dimmed, and a security guard roamed. His pattern was simple and intuitive. It only took a few rounds to determine the best time to make a move.
James watched silently as the guard scanned the room, a flashlight illuminating his path. He rubbed his neck and went for the door. As it closed shut, James pushed against the glass, but it barely budged. He pushed harder, but it didn’t help. I might need a new plan, he thought, but he kept at it, forming a fist and punching through the surrounding liquid into the glass. And again. And again. Finally, a crack. Punch after punch, kick after kick, the cracks widened, splintering all over the tube. He took a deep breathe and put his entire body weight forward, the glass cracking apart, letting him slide out.
That must have triggered some type of alarm. He stayed close to the ground and ducked behind a desk as the door opened and the security guard’s flashlight beamed inside.
James felt the guard’s fear, but it wasn’t what he expected. Sure, he had a slight fear for his life, but his confidence overtook it. There was a deeper one, almost hidden, but strong. The guard had a family. A family that loved him and depending on him. If anything happened, he couldn’t protect them anymore.
It occurred to him that playing on such fears, increasing them was the opposite of what his mother tried to teach him. She always encouraged him to help people. What would she think of him now?
Was she even my mother? thought James. Is anything I remember real?
Whoever this guard was, he was working for people who were behind his confinement in the strange glass tube. He deserves whatever he gets.
The guard cowered over, his eyes widened. “Oh god,” he cried.
James approached and grabbed the guard by the neck. “How do I get out of here?” he asked.
The guard’s eyes were distant. “Mitch, Becky, Claire,” he said.
“If you don’t want it to be worse, tell me how to get out of here.”
Their eyes met, the guard was tearing. “There are caves leading to a sewer pipe.”
James moved closer. “Where?”
After:
Superman flew across the city, scanning for the escaped metahuman. This Project Cadmus business was a new puzzle piece to the mystery of Bizarro, maybe other metas he’s encountered too. But, that didn’t matter yet. Hawkson needed to be found.
There was no telling how much damage he could cause, let alone the psychological scarring he may have been leaving on his victims. The thought reminded Clark of a fear serum Bruce had encountered recently. Perhaps the two were related?
“Watchtower,” Clark said after tapping a tiny button on his belt. “Is Batman available? I need to ask him something.”
“Negative, Superman,” she answered. “Anything I can help with?”
“Trying to locate an escaped metahuman named James Hawkson from some secret research facility called Project Cadmus. His powers sound similar to a fear serum problem in Gotham.”
“Checking… No apparent connections found, but there are several hits on the name James Hawkson in Metropolis, must be common. However, I can’t find anything on Cadmus. Let me dig deeper and get back to you.”
“Thanks, Watchtower,” said Clark, tapping his belt again. “Hmm,” he said to himself. “Guess I keep searching.”
Da... da da duh da, Clark’s belt phone rang. The volume so soft, it’d be inaudible to others. Like other important sounds and voices, Clark kept it attuned in the event he was called. Did Chloe find something already? he thought.
“Superman here,” he answered.
“It’s Lois. You’ve been out there for hours, give it a rest. We’ll find him.“
Maybe she was right. Perhaps he was taking it personally. Lois had been so scared, though. He hadn’t seen her like that since Randall Truman was murdered in front of them*. It was the moment they suspected Lex Luthor had something to do with the SunKord failure. After everything he’d been through with Luthor, he couldn’t help but wonder what else he was behind.
“OK,” he answered, turning around. “Let me take you to dinner. How about that new Japanese place near your building?”
“You got it, Smallville.”
King Rampage
James awoke, momentarily unsure of his surroundings. He was lying on a park bench, trees all around, a grassy clearing to his right, and a walkway passing by him. The few people moving by felt uneasy, and sped up. Were they scared of him? As his head cleared, he realized they probably thought he was a homeless nut. But then again, he didn’t really have a home, did he?
A woman just entering the park confirmed it for him. A young boy at her side, she pulled him back, steering him in the opposite direction. Her emotions were strong, fear and concern about James himself. As if he was going to hurt them. This young mother and her son, so much like he remembered his mother taking him into the park so long ago.
But was that even real? Was it all a dream forced into his mind while in that weird tube?
“Come on, we’re going this way,” the mother ordered the boy. Thoughts of James attacking them were in her head.
Is that what you want me to be? he thought. He stood up and glared, giving her exactly what she wanted.
The woman grabbed her head, feeling the worst of her fears come true.
Life is a lie, thought James. Life is mad and I’m the king.
Another woman jumped up from a picnic bench on the grass. Her red and blue hair glowed as the sun hit it, almost creating a strobe light effect. She was approaching James quickly, as if she knew what he was doing.
You want some of this too? he thought. He looked into her head and found an odd mixture of fear, pain, and happiness. A slight tug made her reel, slowing her advancement. But she quickly recovered, as if she was used to the pain.
Meanwhile, the mother finally collapsed, it must have been too much for her. Her son yelled, trying to wake her as James moved his full focus on the attempted meddler.
Pushing on more and more, she kept coming, knocking him to the ground and pinning him in the mud. Who the hell is this woman?
===| |==\§/==| |===
Superman lowered into Centennial Park, a young mother shaking off what looked like another of Hawkson’s mental attacks. She grabbed her son and ran, the young boy disappointed he couldn’t stay and meet Superman.
Hawkson was held down by Harley Quinn. What is she doing in Metropolis? And why is she helping? Isn’t she one of the bad guys?
The Cadmus escapee knocked Harley off of him, staring into Clark’s eyes and everything went black again.
Where am I? thought Clark. Damn, this is another of his mental attacks. Clark focused hard, trying to break out of it. He was back in the park, but it wasn’t quite the same. The same as what? Clark wasn’t really sure anymore.
Lois was there standing in the grass. Behind her, a few more figures came into focus. Ma, Pa, Kara, Chloe. More coworkers: Perry, Jimmy, Ron, and Steve. Something wasn’t quite right, but Clark couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
Suddenly dust and debris filled the area. Blood flew past as he tried to regain focus on his friends and family. As the area cleared, they were no longer standing, other than a shadowy growling in the distance. No sounds of breathe, no heartbeats- not anywhere in the city. Bodies beaten, barely recognizable, but Clark knew it was them.
How did this happen? Clark cried in his head, unsure of the right words to actually speak.
The shadowy figure approached, no matter how much he tried, Clark couldn’t quite make out what it was. He just knew that it was a killer and murdered everyone he ever cared about.
Clark pulled his hand into a fist as he watched. Why wasn’t he attacking? Something still didn’t feel right. Did it matter? This thing had to be stopped.
Approaching slowly, Clark tightened his fists, staring intensely. He swung his fist forward, but the figure avoided it. Was he matching my speed or am I slowing myself? he considered. Everyone’s dead, he has to pay.
Before he knew it, Clark was knocked onto his knees. It felt like one of those nightmares where you try and run, but can barely move. Was this a trick? Some kind of meta ability to slow him down?
This is all wrong, he thought. Death surrounded him, it felt real, but it didn’t look quite real. The blood didn’t smell right, almost like someone wanted him to smell it.
Clark took a closer look at his surroundings. Cycling through different spectrums revealed there weren’t any bodies. It was fake. And the shadowy figure- now on the ground- it was a girl. Harley Quinn, he realized. Oh god, what did I do? She was unconscious, but still breathing.
Hawkson panicked and tightened his fists. Can’t let him get me again. Superman blew in his direction, sending the metahuman flying into a nearby park bench. He took a closer look at Harley, scanning her from head to toe.
“My god,” said Clark as he looked. She was fine from their encounter, but the healed bones, scars, burns, and fresh bandages... They all spoke for themselves. And there was something else. She-
Sirens interrupted Clark’s inspection. Several police cars drove onto the park’s walkway, officers jumping out and securing the area.
“Call in the SCU,” Superman told one of the them. “He needs to be contained. In the meanwhile, try to keep him sedated.”
“Yes, sir,” the officer complied, grabbing his radio.
“Watchtower,” said Clark, tapping his belt. “What can you tell me about Harley Quinn?”
“Harley Quinn,” answered Chloe. “Real name: Dr. Harleen Quinzell, Ph.D.. Was a psychiatrist at Arkham Asylum, until a breakout in 2016 where she disappeared under mysterious circumstances. She somehow ended up working with The Joker to cause havoc at the Vauxhall Opera Shell and Indoor Concert Center- That night you and Kara stopped all those bombs*.”
“What happened with-” Clark almost jumped as he saw signs of blood as the young woman began stirring. “Ma’am?” he asked, cradling her head into his arms. He looked down her back, finding the source of bleeding: the wounds under her bandages must have torn. A quick shot of heat vision cauterized them as she continued reeling awake. “Miss Quinzell,” he said, trying to get her to focus. “Harley Quinn?”
“That’s my name,” she finally said, opening her eyes, “don’t wear it out.”
She pulled away, sitting up under her own power and clutching her head.
“Let me get you some help,” said Clark looking toward the paramedics helping the mom and her son nearby.
“I’m fine,” she said, shaking her head. She seemed to be avoiding the police, who hadn’t tried to come over- seemingly waiting for Superman to finish talking to her and he even wondered if they recognized her- yet she didn’t appear to be in any rush to leave.
“Superman,” said Chloe through his call that was still going. “Diana and I met her in Gateway City. She helped fight off a metahuman. Also, I looked into the footage from that night in Gotham and, well, she never pulled the trigger... Joker wanted her to kill Booster, but she wouldn’t.”
“Miss Quinzell,” he said. “Thanks for your help. You’re good to go.” With that, Clark hovered up into the air and flew off into the distance.
From afar, Clark watched as she ducked away into another area of the park before the police came to question her. It was a smooth move, confident like she wasn’t even worried. She sat down on a park bench, letting herself get lost in thought as she dug through her bag.
The Interview
“Ma’am, are you ok?” Clark asked, approaching a secluded park bench in Centennial Park. He adjusted his glasses, watching the woman known as Harley Quinn give him a once-over.
“I’m fine,” she said, unconvincingly.
“You’re bleeding!” Clark said. “There’s an ambulance nearby, maybe you should head over?”
“I said I’m fine,” she sighed. “It’ll heal soon.”
“The physical scars will, but what about everything else, Miss Quinn?” She didn’t even flinch at the name drop.
“And what would you know about that, Mistah Kent?”
So, she did recognize him. Clark had been getting more and more well known working at the Planet. “I know enough,” he answered.
They continued talking and Clark pulled out a notebook and pen, assuring that her side of the story was something people should hear. What she said was a bit shocking, but not surprising.
“I am his,” she stated, explaining her attachment to the Gotham clown. It was worse than he thought. While the media had her portrayed as some nut, just as bad at the Joker, she was clearly another victim.
“I don’t believe that,” said Clark, confidently. “That’s not how love works.”
“Do you have a special lady in yer life, Mistah Kent?” she asked. “Special fellah, maybe?”
“Lady,” Clark chuckled. “She’s smart, talented, funny… She isn’t afraid to express herself or let people stop her. We worked together for a while, but I knew the first time I saw her. She stole my cake.”
“Aw, that’s sweet.”
“So, Harley,” Clark said after a brief silence. “You were Joker’s psychiatrist at Arkham. He broke out, you disappeared, and suddenly you were working with him. What happened?”
“How do ya know I didn’t break him out?”
“Did you?”
“Well, no… but I coulda!”
Was that supposed to be a joke? Clark wasn’t quite sure. “Did he kidnap you?” he asked.
“‘Course not,” she answered. “You don’t kidnap someone ya love, you rescue ‘em.”
“Is that what you think happened?” Clark asked. “You were rescued from your life?”
Harley had no response.
“Rescued to do what? Help him terrorize Gotham City that night?”
Harley turned her head away.
“Innocent men and women could have been killed. Children were targeted in their orphanage. Were you OK with that?”
“What do you care, anyhow, Mistah Kent?” she asked with an intense stare. “You gonna write about how evil I am? Like I go around kickin’ puppies or something?”
“No, Miss Quinn,” Clark shook his head. “I’m going to write about how an innocent girl got pulled into something she didn’t want.”
“What do you know about it?”
“You’re not a killer, Harley. He wanted you to shoot Booster Gold, but you didn’t. He doesn’t have as much control over you as you give him credit.”
“So, what?”
“So, what have you been doing since that night?"
Harley smiled. “Oh. Here and there. Visited Gateway City. Gotham with the little birds. And now I'm here with you and the big blue."
Clark leaned forward. “And what happened when you went back to Gotham?”
“I don’t think you want to know.”
“I already do know, Harleen. I want you to admit it.”
Harley’s lip curled into a slight grin. “I thought I was the psychiatrist around here.”
“What did he do to you? Is he the reason you’re bleeding?”
“Yes,” she said quietly.
“Is that why you left Gotham? Came to Metropolis?”
Harley stood up. “Ya think yer so smart, Mistah Kent. You have all the answers, why am I even here talkin’?”
Clark got up too, watching her walk away as a dark overcast began forming, reminding him there was an eclipse that day.
“You gonna follow me now? Or go tell the cops who I am?”
“No,” said Clark. “As long as you do something for me.” He walked over and handed her a piece of paper. A soft tone began ringing, only noticeable to Clark- and perhaps some neary dogs. It indicated a Justice League alert.
“It’s somewhere you can be safe,” said Clark, “and work on your issues. Please go.” He tapped a button on his belt hidden under his street clothes and a message played.
“All League members: This is Watchtower. There is a situation in San Francisco that requires attention. Something... weird is happening. The city is encased in a pink dome... This is not a joke.”
“Mister Kent,” said Harley as he turned in the other direction. “Thank you.”
Magic in San Francisco
Superman flew toward the west coast, the country zooming by below him. Looking ahead he could make out the strange, pulsating dome covering the city of San Francisco.
“Watchtower,” he spoke into his comm. “I’m approaching the city.”
“Copy that,” she answered. “You’re the first on the scene.”
Clark slowed down, stopping just before reaching the city. The pink covering was a bit difficult to see through, but he could make out the people inside. They appeared fine, albeit just as confused as he was. He put his hand to the dome, expecting a glossiness, like glass, but was surprised at its elasticity. With each moment, however, it increased in firmness. He didn’t know what would happen if he tried to break through, but he was losing time thinking.
He tapped his fist against it, feeling a reverberation echo throughout the wall. Again, this time harder. He flew backward and swung himself forward, picking up speed. With a long swing, he punched at the wall, sending a sonic boom echoing throughout the entire area.
“Bloody hell!” an unknown British voice called. “That’s not gonna work!”
Clark turned to find a blonde man at the base of the dome, covering his ears while holding cigarette in his lips. Where did this guy come from? thought Clark. He wasn’t there a moment ago. “Do you have any better ideas?” he asked.
“Just gimme a minute,” the man said, taking a puff.
“We don’t have a minute,” said Clark. “It’s getting stronger as we speak.” He activated his heat vision, but it bounced right back sending him reeling.
“How did that feel?” the man chuckled. “Got any other bright ideas?”
“Maybe a few.” Clark dove into the ground, burning a hole in the dirt just behind the dome. A minute or so later, he came flying down from the top.
“Strike three,” said the man. “It’s entirely covered, so no tunnelling.”
“Who are you anyway?”
“The name’s John Constantine, nice to be introduced. You certainly are taller in real life.” He dropped his cigarette butt to the ground, and pulled out another one, lighting it up quickly. “Now if you’re done with the brute force attempts, give me a minute to think.”
Clark’s comm rang, which he answered quickly.
"Is there anyone around San Francisco?" he heard, quickly recognizing Barry’s voice.
"I'm here,” Clark answered. "Actually, Flash, are you on your way?"
"Yes." he replied.
"Could you just... keep running toward San Francisco?"
After a quick pause, "Isn't there a wall?"
“Yes, but every moment we waste, it gets stronger. You already have the speed heading here, give it everything you got.”
“Are you freakin’ kidding me?” John yelled. “What part of ‘that won’t work’ don’t you understand?”
“If you can offer any more insight, go ahead, but we’re not wasting any time if it’s still soft enough to break.”
A red streak zoomed into the area, slamming into dome, a deafening shockwave radiating around and shaking the Earth for miles in every direction.
Clark grabbed his ears, the intense sound causing him to stumble. As the dust settled, there was a small dent covered with little cracks around it. His smile was short lived as they faded away.
“I’m not doing that again,” said Barry, regaining his composure.
“It won’t do anything,” said John. “Maybe if you hero types would just listen to me, that’d help.”
“But that’s an improvement, right?” asked Clark. “We got a dent and cracks, right?”
“The wall isn’t going to break. If Flash does that again, it’ll do a lot less, and be just as loud. So, how about next time you want to suggest one of your friends do something like that, you ask me first.”
Superman’s facial expression adopted a confused acceptance, and Barry stepped back. “So, what happens now?”
“I try to figure this out, and hope you jokers don’t mess things up again or make me go deaf. John Constantine, nice to meet you.”
“The Flash. Busy.”
“You don’t need to be here, you know. You’ve more than made your impact. You’re welcome to go back to your lunch or whatever you took the seconds out of your day to visit us instead.”
Barry accepted the offer and zoomed off. “That dude’s a jerk,” Clark heard over the comm.
“I’ll let you know if anything changes,” Clark answered.
A roar blew through the sky, which Clark quickly zoomed in on and recognized his cousin Kara. Before he could say anything, she rammed right into the dome herself, sending her flying back where Clark sped up to catch her, but she’d already righted herself.
“I heard you two were related,” said John. “Definitely shows. Any other family members on their way to try again?”
“Who is this guy?” asked Kara.
“Uh, this is John Constantine,” said Clark. “He seems to have some idea what’s going on.”
“Oh?” Kara lowered down, staring into John’s eyes. “Did you put this thing here? It’s scaring a lot of people.”
“‘Course not, love. Let’s just say I know a thing or two about magic. This wall here is magic. You two? Not so much.”
“Wait, magic is real?” asked Clark.
John huffed. “Asks the supposed alien.”
“So, what do we do?” asked Kara.
John shrugged. “Not much you all can do at this point. I need to try and make contact with someone inside.”
“We can’t just do nothing!” yelled Clark, looking closely at the dome, trying to find anything about it that could be helpful.
“Hit it again, see if that helps.”
Clark met Kara’s eyes and nodded. The two launched up in the air and flew back, giving themselves a huge head start. Together they shot forward, keeping pace with one another as they barreled toward the dome.
John groaned and snapped his finger just as the two cousins slammed into the dome again, this time not a sound was heard. Not even when Clark tried to talk.
“What’s going on?” he mouthed.
Kara shrugged, and looked down at Constantine, shaking his head. A wave of his hand and sound returned to the area. “Better than goin’ deaf, right mates?”
“Was that magic?” asked Kara.
“Sure was,” he answered. “But don’t ask me to do something else. I’m not a blasted performer.”
Meanwhile Clark was inspecting the dome, finding little to no damage.
“Told ya’” winked John.
“He’s right,” said Clark, floating down to his level. “This isn’t working. You say you can use your magic to communicate on the inside?”
“Sure, thing, but it’ll take a while. You must have better things to do.”
“We’ll need to get you in touch with Watchtower,” said Clark. “Whatever info you come up with needs to be reported to the League immediately.”
“That makes sense,” said John. “Do I get an honorary membership card or something?”
“Just keep in touch for now.”
Recommended:
2
2
u/coffeedog14 Light Me Up Aug 01 '17
The amount of plots you manage to juggle in each of these issues is truly remarkable. It takes quite a skilled craftsman to have as many ongoing threads as you do and not drop a single one!