stands_for_hope | Firebrand, Superman, Lois Lane, and the Avengers in... Unfortunately Lex Luthor Is An Asshole

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Firebrand, Superman, Lois Lane, and the Avengers in... Unfortunately Lex Luthor Is An Asshole

That morning, there wasn't a paper that didn't have a variation of one headline:

Captain America Comes Out in Support of Superman

The quotes were all different, though: 'He's here to help, same as me.' 'I've never met a kinder, more civic-minded man.' 'I've fought beside him and I'd do it again; there's very few people I'd trust to have my back like Superman.'

The Planet was the only one who had a full interview to go along with the statement that had been distributed to the various publications, an exclusive as written by Lois Lane who was starting to get known as the woman to go to if you needed to talk to a harder-to-find superhero. Lois didn't mind that one bit, honestly, though Cat Graham had started to ask her if she knew any of their numbers to get herself a date.

Later, on another day, Clark might wonder if that had been as much of a catalyst as anything. Because that was the day that Lex Luthor decided to make his play.

The massive spider mecha seemed to appear out of nowhere, towering over parts of the downtown area that had only just begun to be rebuilt. The streets were suddenly filled with rolling war machines, filled to the brim with alien soldiers speaking a language that was unfamiliar and strange to anyone who might hear it. Strange flying ships made their way from the outskirts of the city inward, terrifying the people as they scattered them from the streets. And all of them, each and every one of them, wore red, blue, and gold... and sported the s-like curve as an emblem.

The invasion had begun.

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"Ooh, me," said Clint from his place in the floor. "My hands were a little too full to grab one on my way in here."

"I'm good anyway, punk," Jim answered, though without much bite.

"Jerk," came back automatically as he shook his head and made his way into the kitchen. Steve stopped by Clint's little spot to drop off the beer before making his way back, a couple of eggrolls in one hand along with his beer.

Jim leaned back in his seat, eating almost absently. It was something to think about, finding someone who felt like home. He'd fallen quiet - so it was Tony who spoke.

"Hate to drop a bomb on the party, guys, but I should ask - what's next on the schedule? Anything I should clear up my calendar for?"

Clark sighed a little tiredly and pulled up his phone.

"I don't figure so. I got a text from a friend down at the police station that Luthor's been indicted. Lois and I will be writing up the article, so if there's something you don't want included, let us know."

Lois grinned and it was a very very unpleasant expression.

"He's getting nailed to the wall, though."

Clark nodded, though there was still a bit of sadness in his expression. That that kind of hate had resulted in the loss of lives, that someone he'd called friend had felt the need to--

It was done. He tried to remind himself it was done.

"You're all welcome to stay another night if you need to, but I think the situation is under control. The Metropolis PD is processing all of the former soldiers, and apparently they went and rounded up the LexCorp 'army' that he'd assembled to come 'save' the city from the Kryptonians."

Clark shook his head tiredly and ran a hand through his hair.

"But that's all our problem, not yours."

Tony looked around at everyone and shook his head. "I don't know about you guys, but I really don't have anything pressing on my schedule for tomorrow - how about we stick around, move some furniture for Miss Lane here, and give our native Metropolis superguys a chance to kick back and rest?"

"I'm for it," Clint said. "Even if I'll probably do better liaising with the police, since I saw... well, I saw our end of it, anyway."

"Okay, you do that," Tony said. "The rest of us will take care of furniture and patrols." He clapped his hands and rubbed them together. "I was getting tired of just flying around New York until I rebuild back in California."

All Jim could do was stare.

Clark actually let out a little sigh of relief and shared a look with Lois.

"I can tell you the name of my contact at the police, if that will help, Clint," Clark offered with a raise of his beer.

Lois, on the other hand, outright slugged Tony in the shoulder with a bright grin.

"I take back... absolutely nothing I've ever said about you, Stark, but today, you won't read a negative word from me."

Thor nodded in agreement.

"I would be honored to help the lady Lois in reappointing her new space."

"Doing some normal stuff wouldn't bug me either," Sam agreed. Steve nodded, but didn't say anything.

"And the best part," Lois said with a little grin, "is that there'll be beds and a couch for the other apartment once it's all over here."

After a moment, he nudged Jim's shoulder.

"You're gonna catch a fly any minute there, Jim," Steve said, warm.

"I think I could use some sleep tomorrow," he said, managing not to take offense. This was more than he'd expected by any measure, that was for sure. "Thanks."

"We were getting bored," Tony said with a froggish smile. "Moving furniture and keeping an eye on your town isn't a problem at all."

"Oh, rest assured," Lois said with a snort, "I'm sending in our article, and then I'm passing the hell out for a bit. I trust you guys with the keys."

Sam laughed and gave her a nod.

"You definitely earned it, girl."

Lois shot off a quick salute.

Clark watched everyone for a moment before starting to neaten up the kitchen. Steve, for his part, glanced around the room before giving everyone a smile.

"I'm going to head to bed early, then, if we've got a full day tomorrow."

He brought his (very empty) containers to the garbage, quickly washed the utensils he'd used, and slipped down the hallway. Clark watched him go, shared a look with Lois, and shrugged. Clark turned to Tony, then.

"I really appreciate it. And for what it's worth, I would like to do some tests with you. My, er... my biological father told me that I should test my limits. No reason why I shouldn't do it scientifically."

While they talked, Jim stood up and puttered, gathering things to throw out, other things to wash, and he started a quick round of washing up - just a few bits of silverware and one plate. Clint, meanwhile, was stowing leftovers in the fridge while humming to himself.

"You send me what you do know about your limits, if you know any of 'em, I'll try and get some equipment worked up for a little past that, and we'll see what we can find out. You can use the landing pad near the top floor - I'm sure you know where that is. Just, uh. Call first? I put in some new security systems after we had some definitely hostile flying invaders, and I'd like to not accidentally attack a friendly," Tony agreed. "I'm not sure how I'll measure your speed, though - I did catch that little trick of yours earlier, and I don't think radar would help. Or GPS. I'm going to have to come up with new stuff just for you."

A smile spread across his face. "Finally, something to tinker about that Pepper won't fight."

"I'll give you what I have, but it's not much," Clark admitted, "But I'll certainly call first. After all, I don't want to interrupt your business. I do understand you have a business, Mr. Stark."

"Oh, don't worry, I've got it all set up, I just come up with new ideas and pass the blueprints down - I just spent a few years doing not much of anything, honestly, and the business kept going. It sounds horrible, but I flew to another universe or something, I figure I owe myself the time off." He waved it off. "And please. Tony. I don't want father flashbacks."

Jim snorted softly, but as he saw things were mostly done, he shrugged to himself. "I'm going to get a shower," he said, "then I'm going to get some sleep, too. Since we have two bathrooms now, anybody needs it, go to the other one."

And that, he figured, was the only statement he needed before he headed to do just what he said he'd do.

Clark smiled a little.

"Tony, then. I'll have to tell my mother that I'm on first name terms with Tony Stark. She'll excited as anything for me."

"Give me her address," Tony said with a shrug. "I'll send her... something. I don't know. Does she need a car? I've got a few that don't do anything for me anymore. I've been looking into those tiny giraffes like on the commercials, but I've not been able to get far on that yet, or I'd send her one of those."

"For fuck's sake, Tony, if you can't make tiny giraffes, what good are you?" Clint snorted with a roll of his eyes.

"Your arrows, Mister Insanely Specific Ammunition."

Clark smiled at that but shook his head.

"I got the truck working again after it went through the roof, which just goes to show the kind of durability the thing has going for it. She wouldn't mind an email, though. My aunt's driving her batty while she's staying at her house during the repairs, and she lives on her computer for most of it."

"...I can definitely do something about that," Tony said. That was his milieu.

Meanwhile, it didn't take long for the shower to cut off, Jim having washed himself off to his satisfaction. He walked out of the bathroom in his bathrobe, with a towel around his neck. "Whoever's next," he said, but headed on toward his bedroom. He was overdue for sleep. To say today had been busy was an understatement.

He got a few waves and there was some muffled discussion about who was next and who wanted to be next and who was bunking where and Clark side-eyed Tony just a little because What Are You Planning...

Inside Jim's room, Steve had changed into a t-shirt and a pair of pajama bottoms and was reading a rather tattered copy of The Hobbit on top of the other man's bed.

He was rubbing his hair further dry when he padded in and started digging in his chest of drawers to find clothes to sleep in - he went through more clothes on fight days than anything else. He kept the washer and dryer busy. "Half expected to find you already asleep," he said absently as he pulled on some shorts while his robe was still on - more out of politeness than anything else.

"I need to wind down a little after... people," he admitted with a raise of his book in reference.

He'd never been a terribly social person, especially when it came to large groups; he was the most himself in the quiet moments, in a discussion with those he held dear, left to his own devices to read or draw or think. The serum hadn't changed that.

After he pulled on his pajama pants, he hung his robe on the knob of the uppermost drawer and dug for a T-shirt. It was probably something Steve hadn't exactly seen yet - how far the metal of his arm stretched onto his back and his chest, how his skin was irritated where it touched the metal. He didn't even pay it any mind as he pulled the shirt on. "I think I remember something about that," he agreed, discarding the damp towel that had been around his neck in the direction of his pile of laundry.

He still had a latex glove on his metal hand for the purpose of combing his hair - the next thing on his list.

Steve was looking at Jim and Steve saw, but he didn't say anything. The only indication was a bit of concern in his eyes as they ran along the line of irritation.

"So," and he tapped the cover, "old favorite. Keep it in my bag most of the time."

He looked over to the side of the bed before picking up one of the pillows and holding it up.

"You have a preference for which one you want down there?"

"Nah," he said, shaking his head slightly before finishing with his hair. It hung long, longer than ever, but he didn't notice so much. He'd been used to it for a long time. "Just whatever."

And at last, he pulled the latex glove off.

He held the pillow out for Jim.

"All yours, then."

"Thanks." He took the pillow and put it where it usually ended up - beside the bed on the floor, other side of the nightstand. "You throw the blanket off, you're not getting it back."

He pulled the blanket off of the bed and held it out as well.

"I'll just spend all night throwing it off and pulling it back on. Might as well let you use it."

He took the blanket with a laugh. "Think I remember waking up once with a hand in my face. Maybe more than once."

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