Chapter Text
Bruce's first thought is, "Why on earth is it so bright in here...? Our room isn't this bright.". Blinking slowly, he groans, knowing instinctively that he's woken up very late. He starts in surprise. Must be coming down with something. That's the only explanation for why his voice is so high pitched. Sitting up, he looks down and sees rockets on his comforter. Even worse, he has baby hands. Bolting up, he instinctively moves toward the mirror he hasn't looked at in over thirty years. He's young again, seven by his estimation. No, those books on his shelf are all about animals, which he was obsessed with when he was... eight. He trembled once but allowed himself no more than that. Unfortunately, his past body didn't agree, and his hands continued to shake. He knew he was thinking nonsense, there are three hundred and sixty four other days in the year. It could be any other day. It's just a day. The chances of it being THAT day are quote low. It's perfectly fine. Of course, he's still in his child body, which doesn't make sense. It would probably be fixed in a few hours. This isn't the first time a member of the Justice League has moved through time. Wait. That means... his parents. He can see his parents! He practically ran towards the kitchen, knowing this would be terrible for him when he got back to the present. He skidded to a stop, and there they were.
His father, Thomas, drinking coffee with his briefcase by his side.
His dear mother, Martha, making strawberry and chocolate chip waffles with Alfred.
No matter how busy they were, his parents always made sure to eat breakfast with him. Bruce missed that. Before his own kids, breakfast was a lonely affair for two decades. He sits down gingerly at the kitchen island, simply drinking it all in.
"Good morning Bruce! How did you sleep dear?" Martha chirped, turning to him with a plate piled high with waffles and bacon. He ate slowly, content right now to just listen to their voices. "I slept well Mama." Bruce said, stuffing a forkful of waffle into his mouth. His parents went back to their conversation, and Bruce listened in silence. And then one sentence, one word, made his blood run cold. His mouth stopped moving as he struggled to swallow.
"Don't forget that you need to leave work an hour early Thomas, that way Bruce can still go to bed at the proper time after the movie, since we're going to an earlier showing!" Martha said happily.
The movie?
"Mama I can't remember... what's today's date?" Bruce asks slowly.
"Silly Bruce! You're been looking forward to today for two weeks, it's September 25!" His mother replied cheerily.
No. God, please no.
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Clark Kent woke up because he was cold. He found himself alone in bed. Bruce was probably working already. Disappointing, but not surprising. And then he realized that he felt cold. His main home is literally a fortress of ice. He shouldn't feel cold. Then he saw the kryptonite glinting above him, somehow floating in a spinning blue box. It's on its point, like a diamond (Author breaking the fourth wall here~! Think the diamonds over the head in the sims, but dark blue with slots in it for the kryptonite to be seen because yes.) Gasping, he dragged himself out of bed. Now he was concerned. Bruce wouldn't have done this. And couldn't have. Even Bruce doesn't have flotation technology. Which means that something happened. He stumbled downstairs, the kryptonite prism following him.
He called out weakly, struggling to walk, using all his willpower to just get into the kitchen, "Alfred! Alfred, are you here?! I need help! Alfred!"
Alfred came around the corner running as fast as he could, letting out a soft noise of displeasure, then a sigh. "What happened Master Clark? Where is Master Bruce?"
Clark wheezed, "Gone. Bruce is gone. Woke up to this."
"Oh dear... let me wake the children." Alfred said, worriedly. "It is not like him to go with no word, but he may be working. As for the kryptonite, we'll find a way to get rid of it. Lex Luthor needs to stop this nonsense!" Alfred said angrily.
"They don't... they don't sleep much. I'm fine, leave them to... sleep." Clark choked out.
"Very well. At least go to the cave and lie down in the sun lamps, this gloom isn't helping things." Alfred said softly. "I will help you down there."
"Thank you Alfred." Clark replied slowly, letting himself be led down the steps to the room, and laid down in a special bed. Alfred left, turning the lamps on maximum strength, and Clark sighed softly in relief. He felt the slightest inkling of strength seep into him, not much but enough that he didn't feel quite so sick. He closed his eyes and let himself fall into a fitful sleep.
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He floats above Metropolis, relishing his obvious victory. Both Batman and Superman are indisposed. He has his... somewhat useful bestfriend Lex Luthor to thank for that. Great minds think alike after all, and that kryptonite made his job much easier. Not that Luthor had much of a choice in handing it over. Still, he'd have to kill Lex later as a thank you. Can't have him claiming the glory, anyhow. He was now systematically worming his way into the mind of Metropolis citizens. Soon he'd control the city, and this time he would not fail.
He had all the pieces of the puzzle, now he must simply fit them together.
He can finally complete the Anti-Life Equation.
He is Darkseid.