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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He moved all at once, and it was neither graceful or silent. The futon wasn't really meant for movements like the one Jim made, practically diving to take hold of Clark and shiver. Whether he believed what Clark was saying or not, the gesture told him that at least one person hadn't given up on him despite his stupidity.

Clark got his arms around Jim and started running a hand down his back like he was calming one of the horses at the farm, nothing difficult or complicated. Just holding onto him and letting him shiver, letting him shake it out.

"I've got you. It's all right."

A step or two of the pacing outside the door got close enough to be audible.

His next breath was another of those sobs and it added to the coil of hate that had been steadily building since Steve had told him. The worst was that he couldn't find a single word that fit. He couldn't explain without saying too much, couldn't apologise without it sounding terrified. All he could do was keep breathing, keep crying, despite every breath sounding like either a hiccup or a sob.

There was a brief discussion outside, Lois's voice careful and soft, and then footsteps away. Clark let out a little sigh of something very like relief before trying to find Jim's eyes and looking down at him.

"If you need to get it out, anything, Jim, I'm here. Don't cut yourself up inside. You don't have to. It's all right."

"I can't..." His voice trailed off, those two words harder to say than any he'd ever said before, forced out on a breath instead of a sob. It wasn't enough. It didn't explain what. But it was what he could say.

Clark nodded to it.

"If you can't, then you don't have to. If you want to and you're afraid... you don't have to be. And I'll do whatever I need to to make sure you know that."

"I--" He took a shaky breath. "I ... M'sorry..." His voice was tremulous but he couldn't have been more honest. He was sorry - sorry he'd said all that, sorry that he couldn't have said anything else.

"You don't have to apologize to me," Clark said honestly, keeping his voice low enough to stay well within the room, "and if you want to apologize to him... I'll tell Lois to send him in. I didn't mean to get between you two. I was just worried about you."

He reached around and patted the symbol on Jim's shoulder. Brother. Family. There wasn't anything Jim could do to erase it.

Jim shook his head, though. He didn't trust himself with it. Who knew what he'd do if he faced Steve now. There were only so many options and they all scared him. But at least, in the face of everything else, his tears were slowly drying.

Clark gave Jim a nod.

"Lois is talking with him. He's worried about you but she's asking that he give you a little time and he seems all right with that. They all seem ready to head out today, so you don't have to worry about his sleeping arrangements. I can bring his stuff out when I go."

But again, he shook his head. "No, it's..."

Finally, he was starting to breathe normally again. "It's okay, he can... M'okay." It was a lie, but it was the kind that Jim could live with. He could get himself under control for long enough to see Steve again. Just for a few minutes.

Clark looked him in the eye.

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to do. He's a grown man. And he dumped something pretty huge on you. A little time is fair."

He gave Jim a crooked smile.

"And I think he figured out that most of what you were saying you didn't mean. Thankfully."

When he looked up at Clark it was with a flare of panic in his eyes. "I--"

He hadn't meant it. But it was necessary. It was-- It was for safety.

Clark gave him a very knowing look.

"You want to try and tell me you hate him for being bi? Because I'm not going to believe you."

He was calm enough, finally, to sit up - sit up and look at the crushed container in his hand, and realise how his head hurt. His shoulders slumped as he said, "I can't explain. Not and it... make sense to you."

"You don't have to explain," he said plainly. "I know you did what you thought you had to do. And I trust" and he emphasized the word, "you. I don't think you're a bigot. I know things are complicated. But I also know you've got some things to work through. And that's okay too."

And he had to go back to work tomorrow. But at least it was work he could do without thinking. Work to fall into without having to talk about anything other than where to make a cut on the sheetrock.

"I still... He's my friend." And that, maybe, said enough.

"He is," Clark said, very sure of that.

"Friendships are about fights too. I'm sure you've fought with him before. You'll fight with him again. It doesn't change that you care about each other. Like I said: you'll figure it out."

He patted Jim's arm.

"I've got faith in you. So does Lois."

"Might be misplaced," he sighed, but he didn't deny further than that. "I'm steadier now, though. It's... He can come in."

He could handle it now, he thought. Surely. He had to. The idea had settled more. And even if he couldn't explain it directly to Clark, maybe he could manage a little bit of something with Steve.

"Never," Clark said as he pulled back, standing up from the spot on the futon he'd been filling. Because Clark really did believe in him. It practically shone out of his face.

He stepped to the door and peered through it before letting out a little laugh.

"Well, this'll be quick," he said cryptically before opening the door. Steve was there, looking worried and a little frustrated. Clark murmured something to Steve, who gave him a strange look that was a combination of appreciative and annoyed, before slipping in as Clark slipped out.

Steve stayed near the door.

"Hey."

Jim looked at him for a few seconds, eyes still red, before he said in a voice determinedly steady - but still as quiet as he'd been before, "I don't regret defending you."

That was the place to start, he was almost sure. The place to make it clear.

"Didn't think so," came out almost immediately as he leaned back against the door.

"And I... never meant to lie to you. Even back then. I didn't know-- I didn't want to be back then. You know well enough why. And I still liked girls so..."

So it was easier. Safer.

"Yeah." He knew. And it still sent a bolt of fear through him, but it was a fear that he kept a firm hold on and let it go instead of having it take hold of him. "Still a lot of people, though, who... really do want..."

Even though he couldn't say it, he trusted Steve knew what he meant - and even though Steve was Captain America, Jim was still pretty sure that he couldn't survive a well-placed gunshot instead of the half-panicked shooting he'd done on the helicarrier.

"Lot of people still do it," he pointed out gently. "Live... out. Celebrities, politicians... I don't know if that's for me, but I wasn't-- it wasn't about that. I just wanted the people close to know. The people who matter."

He glanced towards the door.

"And Tony, because my damn voice carries, apparently."

"You were yelling," Jim reminded. Of course, he'd been yelling for good reason, but he'd still been yelling.

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