Fall of Justice

The Human Race

Kara sat facing the plain white wall, her jumpsuit hanging loose from her body, too big for her frame, on the back, numbers she couldn't read had been stenciled in black. She seethed, trembling with rage. Behind her the meal-slot slid open and a food tray was shoved through.

Kara jumped to her feet and ran across the room, the slot closed before she could reach through. She had no real plan, but still, this felt like failure. She punched the door, her knuckle bruising, cutting, bleeding as she hit the metal over and over, the tray spilled to the ground. Orange juice stained the floor yellow. She screamed.

She had lost track of time. Had she been here hours, days, or was it a week? She could barely remember who she was, something was wrong, somehting inside. She felt weak. Weaker than she had at Arkham, her skin was easily damaged, her arm was healing but still burned. She had no ability to fly and there was a scar she didn't recognice in the middle of her chest, small, precise, purposeful.

"You have to eat," Amanda Waller's voice filtered into the room from a speaker on the wall. Kara turned to it, her eyes on the camera in the corner.

"Waller?" she asked the lens.

"Eat, Kara. Our chefs are the best in the military."

"What do you want?"

"I want you healthy."

"Why can't I--"

"Fly?" waller interrupted. "Or tear that door off its hinges? We've embedded a small shard of Kryptonite in your chest. It's encased in lead, so it won't kill you. I'm sorry but it's for own safety," Waller said. Kara's hand fell over her scar. She felt a sense of violation burning through her.

"Why?" She asked, it was the only thing that came to mind.

"We need to study you Kara, there's a lot we can to learn from you. In case others like you fall from the sky. We need to be ready."

"Where's Superman?" Kara asked. The speaker said nothing. She remembered the Kryptonite bullets, Lex Luthor. Kal was in danger. "Where is he!?" she screamed. Silence again.

Kara ran to the tray on the floor, she kicked the slab of steak, stomped on the corn-- her throat burning as she cried out, her voice bouncing back from the walls as it had nowhere else to go.

Laughter staggered from the speakers. Kara looked up to the camera again, all but breathing fire. Waller's voice filled the room. "You see it now don't you? The source our fear, our frustration... the lack of power that all people live with, the thing that says, 'you're not in control.' It's a terrifying thing to come to terms with. I sympathize. But to all woes there lies a silver lining, and this is yours. You're one of us now. You belong. Welcome to the human race Kara Danvers."

#

Lois watched the two army guards outside the morgue until the falling snow veiled her view. Bruce opened the car door for her, she stepped out. It had taken three days for Bruce to get permission to come and bring her with him, and he was only granted it when he threatened to end his support for the president's upcoming re-election campaign. "We only have a minute once we're inside," he whispered. She nodded. She took his arm and led the way.

The soldiers remained in place as they walked in, but inside more military men searched Bruce's coat and Loi's purse, not for weapons but for cell phones and cameras. Lois couldn't help but feel a slight twinge of hope. She understood the need for security around a body but, maybe it was possible that they wanted the world to believe he was dead, maybe they needed Superman to explain himself before he was let out. Maybe this had something to do with Kara who was still missing. Maybe she was here. Maybe...

Once cleared, Bruce walked on, his head down, the fire of hope nowhere to be found in him. But Lois knew how the military worked, how the government worked. The secrets. The deceit. She knew they would go through any length to keep something like Superman a secret if they got the chance.

A man in a black suit waited for them down the hall. He led them into a room with a large glass window on the wall. A curtain covered the other side of the glass. The man pressed a red button. Bruce took Lois' hand. The curtains parted.

Clark lay on a metal slab, his skin sunk into face, his arms skinny and frail. Lois shook her head. "That's not him," she said. Bruce tightened the grip on her hand. "It's not him..." she repeated.

"I'm sorry," Bruce told her. She didn't understand, how could Bruce believe it? It was so clearly not Clark, in fact the body looked almost fake, hollow, it looked like a dummy.

Lois looked closer, more carefully, letting the details sink in. She could make out the signature curve of his bangs, the tiny birthmark on his neck, the uneven dip of his lower lip... it was him. It was really him. The love of her life, now barely more than bones.

"He said his heart could slow down," she told Bruce, suddenly remembering something Clark had told her long ago. "He could look dead but--"

"His heart's... gone..." Bruce said, barely able to get the words out. She had always thought it would be her. If either of them were to die, it would be her first. She wasn't ready for this. For the first time she Bruce had told her the news, she allowed herself to cry. He held her as she sobbed. She looked to the glass again, to his empty body wondering what he would do if it had been her lying there instead of him. She wondered what he would do to the ones responsible, and vowed to do the same.