Chapter Text
As the mighty Captain America was felled by a cowardly shot from a sniper, the son of Krypton was being revived in his Fortress of Solitude.
Clark doesn’t remember where he’s been. Just that when he had lost consciousness that night in Gotham, blinding white light and this overwhelming cascade of peace enveloped him.
This peace and serenity, however, in this space where he was floating in bliss, was suddenly ripped away. Another blinding white light, hard ground coming up to meet him, and the deafening return of sound…
His vision is blurry, something wholly worrisome and terrifying to someone who had perfect vision their whole life. There was red, blue, black; people. They were speaking but it was as if from far away, though they were certainly close enough. Muffled, distorted until the static suddenly righted itself.
“Clark… Clark!”
Vision cleared, and there was Bruce Wayne… the Batman, looking worried but relieved. Three strangers and that woman, Diana Prince, stood around in a semi-circle, looking astounded but hopeful.
It would be another couple of days before all of his faculties return.
But it would be weeks before all of his abilities were revived, the golden rays of the sun shining over the meadows of the Wayne Estate, soaking them into his skin, helping to speed along the process.
How? He’d asked Bruce. A regeneration matrix, Kryptonian tech, the genesis chamber that had spawned Doomsday also supplying the key to Clark’s rebirth. The Fortress had been essential to the process, that old outpost of a once great civilization.
At first, the adjustment made Clark angry. Wherever he had gone, he had been the happiest he could ever remember feeling in life. There had been warmth, yellow hues like familiar blonde hair, a bright white smile…
“Steve… where is Steve?” He asked Lois one morning, still trussed up in blankets, still haggard and weak and useless, overlooking the lake just outside the glass walls of Bruce’s home. The look that overcame her was answer enough. From then all he’d felt was encompassing and debilitating despair and grief.
Steve hadn’t waited for him.
Clark had demanded Lois tell him everything, every detail that occurred after his death. Lois fought, raised voices from them both. She hadn’t wanted to tell Clark about Steve’s recklessness, didn’t want to tell him the how of his death. But Clark got his answers… had pushed and pushed and begged until Lois gave in.
“It’s almost been a year,” Lois finished, voice soft, sad. “When you’re better, I’ll take you to him.”
The anger came again after that, this time white hot and piercing. Then the demand that Steve’s body be exhumed and put into the same matrix Clark had been revived in. But the matrix could only be used once, according to Bruce.
The fury and destruction that followed this news had been near catastrophic. Bruce understood the grief; didn’t fault Clark for what he’d done. But Clark hadn’t ever felt this angry in his life, hated himself for it.
The matrix should have been used to revive Steve.
Compassionate. Kind. Selfless. Wonderful Steve. His Steve. His bashful, shy, lovely Steve. But it was too late. Clark was here, and Steve wasn’t.
Lois, during her visit, presented Clark with the bear gifted to him by Steve on Clark’s last birthday. It was blue, with little shields. A Build-A-Bear special, the stuffed animal was named “Steve” and it was so soft, all for Clark to hug whenever he was missing the real thing. It had seemed absolutely ridiculous at the time, but there were moments even before now where Clark had been happy to have it.
Like a child, Clark clung to that thing for another week. He drew strength from that damn bear; much needed strength and the will to keep going, to fight…
Emerging after what felt like a long night, Clark threw himself into training, once more honing his skills and abilities, and learning to fight alongside… well… the rest of the members of the Justice League, as they were calling themselves. Together they were strong. Sure, it took some getting used to working with vastly different skill sets and powers and abilities, but there was a cohesion there that Clark found that he rather enjoyed. He felt like him again...
The Justice League, brought together by Diana and Bruce, had needed him and his abilities for a coming dire threat. The name Thanos was kicked around, recently discovered to have been behind Loki’s attempts of world domination starting in New York. Worse yet, Thanos wasn’t alone. Darkseid, a being as powerful and possessing the same motivations. Together, they would be as though tidal waves, washing over the earth to enslave and annihilate.
It was going to take anyone and everyone to combat these threats. The new Captain America, Bucky Barnes, had proposed unity between the groups. The necessity to survive and protect the earth had the Justice League agreeing to work with the Avengers.
Bucky Barnes. That’s a name Clark had heard before. Steve’s best friend, returned during the events that led to HYDRA’s reveal to the world. A brainwashed assassin that Steve had searched endlessly and tirelessly to find. Clark knew those pains as though they were his own, having held Steve many nights after the revelation that his friend lived, holding Steve and trying to take that pain for himself. Bucky had been the last thing Steve saw as the life had left his body...
The decision to meet on neutral turf had seemed a good one to make. However, it turned out to be a disastrous gathering. Too many egos and too many disagreements. So much for the importance of necessity…
“Steve wouldn’t have wanted this,” Clark found himself murmuring, standing back and watching the whole debacle. Having been over heard by Bucky, the new shield wielder nodded in agreement.
“He should be here… he would have been the glue we needed. I can’t lead like he could… can't rouse that fighting team spirit...”
“There might be a way,” came the smooth, almost mechanical voice of Vision at Clark’s other side. “A way to bring the captain back…”
Both Bucky and Clark perked to attention.
“What the fu—Why haven’t you said anything before?” Bucky growled, ire apparent. “If there was a way to save him… bring him back… we coulda done this a year ago, Viz!”
“My apologies. I did not say anything before because I did not wish to give hope to something that will most likely not work. But now… our need for a cohesive leader is great… there is hope. That hope will sorely be needed.”
“Then how?” Clark asked, desperation in his tone.
“The Stones. The Stones that Thanos so covets.”