JLU 2001 Fanfiction -World's Finest 9

wflg
The World's Finest Team...

JUST ANOTHER MUTHA-$%@&!-ING TEAM-UP STORY

World's Finest #9 - March, Year Four by Bertram Gibbs

BATMAN

SUPERMAN

APOLLO

MIDNIGHTER

NINE

The four shimmering rings that trapped the heroes illuminated the corner of the warehouse.

    Superman, on his hands and knees, breathed heavily, feeling the air in his lungs constrict as the Kryptonite poison flowed through him. He released a harsh bitter chuckle. If it weren’t for the fact that his elbows were locked he would have gone face first into the concrete floor. He slowly raised his eyes and saw Luthor standing outside the electric field, smiling down at him. Luthor turned and walked over to where the Joker and the two Myron Eugene Spazinski’s were and Superman watched the uninjured Spazinski explain the workings of the dimensional portal and that he was almost done activating it. The Joker grabbed the scientist by the neck and backed him against a wall, holding out his acid filled boutonnière at the man’s face, urging him to work faster.

    The Man of Steel inhaled and turned his head to the other cages. The simple movement was pure agony. It felt like his muscles were broken glass and the shards scraped against each other as he moved his head. He didn’t know how much longer he could stay remain conscious. It would b    e so easy to just close his eyes and stop fighting. A wave of anger went through him and he knew he would last as long and fight as long as it took to stop these madmen from taking over the multiverse.

    In the cage next to him, Midnighter paced back and forth, glaring at the master criminals and the scientists. His eyes would return to the upper rim of the ring above his head and gauged the distance, feeling his legs tense at the beginning of a jump. His legs relaxed as common sense dropped by his mind, realizing that he would never make it ten feet straight up to the five flimsy connecting wires that sparked with flowing power. He growled in his chest and looked over at his fallen partner.

    Apollo was duct taped and chained to a cot, a canister of the clown’s gas on the floor, connecting to a mask that was attached to the lower half of his face. The clown added a hot pink bow on his friend and life-mate’s chest. Apollo’s eyes swam in his head as he tried to move arms and legs that seemed to be asleep. He tried to push his chest and shoulders against the bonds but fell back nearly drained of strength. He slowly turned his head to his side and looked helplessly at the Midnighter. Midnighter released a stream of curses and rammed a shoulder into the electric barrier. He screamed and fell backwards, clutching the arm that now hung uselessly at his side.

    In the cage next to Apollo, Batman stared impassively. At this moment, he was unable to do little else.

    When he regained consciousness, the first thing he realized was he was upside down. His wrists were encased in iron manacles that were attached to a thick two-foot long link chain, its end bolted into the floor. The chain that was attached to the manacles around his ankles was pulled taunt, making him unable to bend his knees or elbows. And his utility belt was gone. So were his gloves. Only minutes earlier Batman had stopped dwelling on the fact that the Joker had painted his nails a frosted pink.

    The Joker hopped like a rabbit over to Batman and hunkered down so their faces were on the same level.

    “Hiya, Batsie!” he said, a wide grin on his face. “How’s it hangin’? Love your nails!”

    Batman did not reply. His opaque eyes regarded the criminal coldly.

    The Joker put a sad expression on his face. “Aw, don’t be that way!” he cried. “Just admit that for once there’s nothing you can do to stop me and you can go to your grave knowing that you failed!” His eyes glowed in the sheen of the force field. “I’ve won,” he whispered. “You’ve lost! Even if you were to get out of the chains and make it past the force field, you’d be too late!” he exclaimed, his voice rising two octaves on the final word.

    Batman continued to remain silent.

    Joker stood up and folded his arms across his chest. Luthor walked over and stood at his side.

    “Oh, look, Lexy,” he said. “You can almost smell the wood burning as he tries to think of a way out! Does a heart good, don’t it?”

    Luthor sniffed. “You amaze me,” he muttered.

    The Joker turned to him. “Well, that’s understandable,” he grinned. “I’m an amazing kinda guy.”

    “You do the same thing over and over again, Joker!” Luthor said. You’re a procrastinator! When you finally capture him (mostly due to dumb luck), you always prolong removing his cowl and revealing to the world the man behind the mask! You never do it when the moment is right in front of you!”

    The Joker’s eyes narrowed. “First off, Baldy,” he said pointing at the Batman’s blank face, “that’s what he wants us to do! He’s waiting for it. He wants us to come forward, remove the force field, and get within his reach.” He then smiled slyly. “Second,” he added, his eyes towards the cage holding Superman. “I don’t see you running off to show everyone who’s behind the spandex!” he said.

    Lex Luthor closed his eyes and counted to ten. Quickly. By fives. He opened his eyes and exhaled. “I,” he began, “After all these years, have come to grips with the concept that Superman has no other identity than Superman.” His eyes snaked to the cage. “His ego would never allow him to be anything else,” he muttered.

    The Joker walked over and cupped his chin with his gloved hand, his other supporting the elbow. He hmmmm’d a few times, one going up a pitch, then dropping down to a lower register. He turned and looked at Lex.

    “Maybe he combs his hair different?” he suggested. “Maybe he wears glasses?”

    Luthor’s relaxed posture did not change, but you could see every muscle in his body tightening.

    “Do you think me a fool, clown?” he whispered darkly. “Do you truly believe that my mind is as addled as yours? Do you think anyone would be fooled by him,” he said, his arm and extended index finger pointing sharply at Superman, “wearing a different hairstyle and glasses?!?!.

    Midnighter’s head turned slowly to the Man from Krypton. Superman was looking at him with a pained smile. He sighed and shook his head.

    “Five minutes!” called Myron Eugene Spazinski as he pushed his wounded self in his wheelchair toward the men. The seated Myron Eugene Spazinski’s head lolled on his scrawny neck and a string of drool hung from the corner of his lip. His eyes blinked as his mind registered his surroundings and situation, but was in too much of a state of pain and shock to allow his body to do anything else but be a motionless receptacle. After several minutes of pleading, Myron Eugene Spazinski was allowed to return the torn shimmering blue jumpsuit to cover his duplicate’s ravaged body. “Five minutes,” he repeated breathlessly.

    Luthor grinned triumphantly. He held out his hand to the Joker, who was grinning as well. The Joker looked at his own hand and deftly removed the joy buzzer from his finger, then raised his arm to grasp Luthor’s waiting hand.

    “I take it you didn’t happen to mention your plan to destroy the Multiverse?” asked Batman calmly.

    Both men froze. Luthor turned slowly to the Caped Crusader and glared at him.

    “His plan to do what?” he asked softly.

    “Destroy the Multiverses,” answered Batman simply.

    “But that will cause a chain reaction!” cried Myron Eugene Spazinski, moving away from his double. “All worlds will be destroyed!”

    Luthor slowly turned to Myron Eugene Spazinski. “Explain,” he said.

    Myron Eugene Spazinski’s eyes shook and widened behind his glasses. He tapped the edge of his upper lip with an Allen wrench several times before speaking.

    “For the sake of your limited understanding,” began Spazinski, not hearing Luthor’s knuckles crack when he tightened his fist, or the squeak of leather when the Joker closed his hand, “Say you are in a room with four walls, the floor and the ceiling composed of mirrors. What do you see? Multiple yous within your own frame, for the sake of a better word.” He began to walk around the portal and caressed the machine, running his fingers over every button, switch, lever and opening (especially the openings) as he continued. “This world, your universe, is the Universe Prime,” he began dramatically.

    In truth, he wasn’t entirely sure it was. His R&D had yet to pinpoint which universe began it all. He had said that knowing it would add to the importance of stopping the Joker before he started.

    “This universe is what is reflected back into the cosmic plain and what the other universes are created from. Now, each world will contain the basic information from the Prime, but because each universe is a reflection of the one before it (along with minor refractorary distortions made by the space/time continuum), each world may end up being similar as the Prime, but will be vastly different; each will have its own individuality. This is the Multiverse.” His pale face flushed and his eyes leveled with the Joker’s. “Now someone has decided,” he rasped, “to simply destroy each universe. This is what will happen.” He walked directly in front of Luthor and stared deeply in his eyes. Eyes that radiated a plea for help but were enveloped in madness. “You destroy any of the Multiverse at random and all other images behind it are destroyed. The reason why the Multiverses are intact is because it is reflections of reflections coming from one central point. A stream unbroken, if you like. Now you drop a rock in the stream. The destruction of a universe will begin a new reflection, and repeat itself over and over, causing a cataclysmic chain reaction that would result in destroying the Universe Prime. You can’t let him do this!” he said, his voice cracking in despair.

    In his heart of hearts, Myron Eugene Spazinski had planned to do the same thing the Joker was planning to do, but only if he was denied his rightful place as the ruler of the Multiverse. He wanted to rule, and would rule, but saw his dreams ending in an insane smile.

    Lex Luthor swallowed his rising bile. “How do you know this to be true?” he asked softly.

    Myron Eugene Spazinski swallowed as well, but his bulging Adam’s apple made it more obvious. “It was an opinion I made in my final report on the portal,” he said. “It was based on years of scientific research, and concurred by my research team, but it’s not conclusive.”

    Myron Eugene Spazinski was about to add a point or three, but realized his words remained in his chest and mind because Luthor’s hand was wrapped tightly around his throat.

    “You expect me to believe that the Multiverse is done with mirrors?!?” he barked, his nose merely inches away from Spazinski’s. “And that destroying a single universe will cause an end to our existence? You expect me to buy this science fiction?”

    What happened then in the warehouse (they say) is that Myron’s wee nads grew three sizes that day.

    Spazinski’s eyes narrowed behind his wide-lens glasses and he smiled as best he could despite the lack of oxygen going to his brain. “Do you want to take the chance and prove my theory correct?” he croaked.

    Lex Luthor stared at Myron Eugene Spazinski for only a moment and nodded his head once. His hand relaxed and he turned towards the Joker, who had backed away several feet.

    “Joker!” whispered Luthor.

    “He’s making that up!” Joker said, putting on a wounded expression and pointing at the Dark Knight. “He’s trying to stall us!”

    “No,” replied Batman. “I’m not.”

    The Joker grinned and held out his arms to Luthor. “Lexy, baby, sweetie!” he said, his face a mask of innocence. “Who you gonna believe?”

    Both men locked eyes for several seconds. The Joker’s shoulders slumped and he wore a hangdog expression. He looked wearily at Batman.

    “You’re a tattletale, you know?” he said. A nagging thought entered his head, causing him to frown. As the thought cleared its focus, his face slid into a mild, but wide-eyed, shock. “Wait a minute,” he said slowly. “You were in dreamland! You were unconscious! You couldn’t have heard me!”

    Batman smiled darkly.

    The Joker’s face tightened. “You played me!” he whispered, DANGER lights flashing in his eyes.

    Batman’s smile broadened by a fraction of an inch.

    “Ha-ha-chuckle-chuckle-fudge-you,” the Joker said flatly. Suddenly his smile shone on his face and his eyes lit from within. “But if Myron’s Domino Theory is right, it’ll definitely save time!”

    Myron Eugene Spazinski ran up to the Joker and grabbed his shirtfront. “You crazy mother fucker! You’ll kill us all!”

    “Again with the potty mouth,” sighed the Joker as he rammed a knee into the man’s groin, sending him to the floor. He reached down and slapped a toggle on Spazinski’s leather belt. Both Myron Eugene Spazinski’s images shimmered like a disturbed pool of water and each man screamed in pain. The Myron Eugene Spazinski in the wheelchair’s eyes widened and his image dissipated into a stream of electrically charged mist and flew across the room and into the Myron Eugene Spazinski who was in a fetal position on the floor. A ghost of Myron Eugene Spazinski formed over Myron Eugene Spazinski, who screamed like every nerve ending was on fire.

    And in truth, it was.

    Solid bones mixed with bones containing multiple fractures and jagged breaks. Torn and bruised flesh merged with whole clear skin. An abused and torn psyche merged with an already damaged mind.

    And Myron Eugene Spazinski screamed until his voice gave out. He writhed on the floor, his body shuddering with each localized reformation. His fingers scraped the air and several veins in his eyes burst. Suddenly his body stiffened and he collapsed, breathing heavily.

    The Joker looked down and smiled softly.

    “Well,” he said, “I for one feel better.”

    Luthor’s hands wrapped around the Joker’s neck. The three burly henchmen moved forward, followed closely by six of Luthor’s men; all holding handguns and knives, who suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

    “Surely we can talk this out?” the Joker squeaked.

    Luthor released the Clown, who dropped to one knee. His eyes looked up at Luthor with an insane hatred.

    “You and I are going to have a talk,” Luthor said darkly. “This operation needs control, and you are going to do everything I say.”

    Joker straightened out his jacket and cocked his head towards the hanging Batman.

    “Not in front of the B-A-T,” he said, his voice rising and sing-songing at the end. “It is just too James Bond to talk about your evil plans in front of the hero.”

    Luthor’s hands clenched and he looked over at Batman, who was staring back with a empty expression. He turned and walked away from the Joker and to the office on the far side of the warehouse. Luthor’s men, who were still aiming their weapons at the Joker’s men followed, covering their employer should they make any move deemed suspicious.

    The Joker stared at Batman, his eyes burning in gleeful rage.

    “You always spoil my fun,” he said softly shaking his head. “No matter what I do, you’re always there, playing the killjoy. Time after time, I plot, I plan, and you waltz in and ruin it! Would it kill you to ignore me for once? Go hunt down Eddie, fer chrissake! He’s easy pickings! Go after Harvey! Just leave me alone to senselessly kill thousands! Please! In the name of all that’s holy, I’m begging you!” he said, holding his hands together in front of his chest. The Joker stiffened and stepped to one side. “The envelope, please!” The Joker mimed receiving an envelope and opening it. He pulled out an imaginary card and did a double take as he read its invisible inscriptions. His eyes widened and he blinked his eyes. “And the winner in the Best Actor category is . . . me?” He then mimed clutching an award to his chest. “I want to thank all the little people!” he cried. “The ones I’ve brutally killed,” his eyes went dark and he looked down at Batman’s face, his smile wide, “And the ones I’ve yet to slaughter.”

    “JOKER!” screamed Luthor from the other side of the warehouse.

    He dramatically flinched and squinted in pain. “Sounds like the old ball and chain needs me. See ya around, Batsie!” he said grinning. “Come to think of it, I probably won’t, since we’ll all be part of that multiverse omelet!”

    “Why?” asked Batman. “Why destroy billions of lives? What do you get?”

    The Joker grinned. “Why, the ultimate Kodak moment!” he said and walked away. The men stared at the four glowing cages for a moment and then turned and followed.

    After a beat, Midnighter turned to Batman. “Okay,” he said. “Now what do we do?”

    “You shut up,” Batman said, pulling on the manacles. The iron band began to cut into the underside of his thumbs.

    “Look mother fucker,” snapped Midnighter. “I’ve had it up to fucking here,” he said making a slashing motion with his hand at eye level, “with you and your attitude. You may scare these Neanderthals, but . . . “

    “I said shut up!” Batman snapped through grit teeth. “I do not like you or your partner. I do not like your methods. You may be free to take a life in your world, but this. Is. Not. Your. World!”

    Blood trickled down the Batman’s fingers and then the chain as he pulled against the manacles. He looked around the makeshift laboratory and spotted his belt and his gloves on a metal rack several feet away. He looked up at the top of the cage and saw a grouping of wires leading to the metal rings. He shut his eyes for a moment, then opened them. Not being able to see Midnighter from his vantage point, he spoke straight ahead, flexing his thumbs. He turned his wrists, coating them with his own blood.

    “I am only working with you to remove a potential threat to my world,” he said. “That’s all. We’re not partners. We’re not comrades fighting the same cause. I understand what you do, but I despise what you do. Now be quiet and let me get us out of here before they come back.”

    Midnighter’s face tightened, but he said nothing.

    Batman inhaled deeply, then exhaled, blowing all the air out of his lungs. He did that two more times and locked his jaw. The twin sounds of snapping filled the area as he dislocated both his thumbs. He slowly pulled his right hand through the manacle, part of his skin coming away in the process. Once his hand was free, he snapped his thumb into place and rolled it on its joint. He reached down and held the cuff in place as he pulled his left hand free. Once that was done, he repeated the painful action and flexed his hand. He released the manacle and held his breath as it and its lead chain hit the floor. He paused and did not move a muscle. He heard raised voices in the distance, but it was Luthor screaming at the Joker.

    Batman bent at the waist and reached up and grasped his left boot with one hand and prodded the sole with the other. The thick rubber lifted and he removed a folded bat-a-rang which he placed between his teeth. He went to the heel of the right boot and pressed a hidden catch, sliding the heel away to reveal a recess. Batman reached in and removed a pick and went to work on the manacle’s lock while holding the chain that led to the warehouse ceiling. In seconds, the cuffs snapped open and his legs dropped. He hung in space for a few seconds to do a few deep inhalations. He pulled himself to the top of the cage and looked out at the connections to the others through the shimmering barrier. He looked up at the cluster of wires and saw that there was a small opening that wasn’t encased in the electrical field. He locked his legs around the chain and held himself up as high as he could go with one hand, while the other plucked the bat-a-rang from his teeth. He flicked his wrist and snapped it open. He angled his arm through the opening and stretched it as far as it could go, being careful not to hit either the exposed wires or let the edge of the weapon dangle too close to the field. He held it between his thumb and two fingers.

    Below, Midnighter stared in rapt silence, completely absorbed in Batman’s every move. “How are you going to get yourself out that way?’ he asked.

    “I’m not,” Batman replied and with the flick of his wrist, threw the bat-a-rang into the distance, away from the cages.

    Midnighter’s jaw dropped open. He watched the projectile fly through the air, then suddenly arc and come back several feet away towards the cage that held the Man of Steel. The bat-a-rang sliced through the dangling wires and the green Kryptonite rays shut off. It imbedded itself in the wall behind the cages.

    “Holy shit!” whispered Midnighter.

    “Get it together Superman!” hissed the Dark Knight.

    Every taut muscle in Superman’s body relaxed in relief. He lifted his head, his jaw set, his eyes glowing an angry red. He pulled himself to his feet and rolled his shoulders.

    “Today,” Batman added in a very flat tone.

    Superman glared at him, then shot bursts of heat vision, melting the wiring to each cage, shutting off the force fields. Midnighter quick-stepped to Apollo and removed the mask from his face. In seconds his eyes cleared and Apollo pulled himself up on his elbows.

    “You okay?” asked Midnighter.

    “Where the fuck is that son of a bitch clown?!?” he growled.

    “You’re okay,” replied the Midnighter.

    Batman had walked over to the metal rack, had snapped his belt around his waist and was pulling on his gloves when Superman joined him at his side.

    “Thank you again,” he said.

    “Yes,” Batman replied.

    Midnighter joined them. Apollo was a step behind him, his gait becoming stronger with every step.

    “Got to tell you,” he said to Batman, “That impressed the shit out of me.”

    “I’m happy for you,” Batman replied, immediately dismissing him and turning to Superman. “Shall we?” he asked.

    It was Superman’s turn to smile darkly at his longtime friend and partner. “After you,” he said with a half bow.

    “Don’t destroy the portal,” said Apollo.

    Batman eyed the silver haired man suspiciously. “So you and your people can take over the multiverse?” he asked.

    “No,” Apollo said, insulted by the question. “We need it for the judicial hearing.”

    “Right before the execution,” added Midnighter.

    Superman glared at the both of them. “No decapitations,” he warned. “No dismemberment. No fatal wounds. No killings. Am I understood?”

    Apollo and Midnighter shared a glance. “We’ll try,” Apollo said, his eyes smiling.

    “You’ll do it,” said Batman in a tone drawn in finality.

    “And if we don’t?” asked Midnighter.

    “We’ll take you down as well,” replied Superman.

    Four sets of eyes locked. Apollo and Midnighter nodded slightly. Superman nodded back. Batman stared.

    “Then let’s go,” Superman said turning to the end of the warehouse.

To be continued…