Clark adjusted his glasses once more as he read an article yet again on the turf war that was enveloping Gotham City. At this rate, all he could was snort out a brief laugh as he leaned back in the beige leather chair that occupied his office. It was a wonder that gangs could thrive at all in Gotham with Bruce AND Dick on the prowl, let alone Tim beginning to fly solo on his own adventures. Of course, he knew that the generic criminal mind was bent in a singular, monotonous direction and would never stray the course. How else could one explain the crime in Metropolis? He and Kara could topple an entire planet if they needed to, yet the criminals emerged out of the woodwork every other day to try and claim their supposed "stake" of the city. It was a frustrating endeavor, but one he would never give up on...not after she made him promise.
It was cancer. Of all the things in the world that she could've gotten herself tangled up in, it was cancer. Brain cancer, in fact. It was a morbid shock to hear the oncologist say how "rare it was for such a healthy woman to develop a terminal stage of cancer so quickly". He couldn't save her from this, no matter what he did. From the time she was diagnosed, it only took one month for the tumor to take her life, but not before she could tell him something that would resonate with him for the rest of his life. She was laying in the hospital bed, muscles limp and tired when all of a sudden she grabbed his hand, squeezed it as tight as she could and looked deep into his being with her piercing hazel eyes and told him:
"Don't you ever give up on this city, Clark. Please. For me." He assured her he wouldn't, but she made him promise. That singular oath bound him to forever protecting a city that might never purge itself of crime. But while he was still breathing, he could try and make Metropolis a place where others could carve out a place for themselves without living in fear.
A smirk played across his lips as he turned off the monitor, rising before walking out of the office and into the living room, noting that the island in the kitchen to his right had a bag filled with tacos with a post-it note that simply read:
Eat up, couz! Love, Kara
Complying with the directive of the note, Clark walked to the island and was about to delve into the bag when his ears picked up a faint tremor. The tremor increased in magnitude, then shouting...crackling...
"Let's go! Empty the money into the sacks!"
He shook his head, laying his glasses on the counter as he walked out of his apartment calmly, locking it behind him. He ascended to the roof through the fire escape, suit and tie shedding off of his body to reveal the trademark red and blue uniform that represented everything he stood for. He careened through the air, following the source of the tremor and swooped downward towards the Federal Reserve of Metropolis, two goons with machine guns outside the entrance. Superman landed a few feet in front of them and instructed them:
"Either you can put the guns down and turn yourselves in or I throw you through the nearest wall. Your choice." The goons looked at each other before unloading their clips on the man of steel, the hero sighing as he grabbed one of the henchmen and slammed him into the ground. The other henchmen took off.
"Figures." He looked down at the now unconscious goon.
"You need to pick better friends."
It was cancer. Of all the things in the world that she could've gotten herself tangled up in, it was cancer. Brain cancer, in fact. It was a morbid shock to hear the oncologist say how "rare it was for such a healthy woman to develop a terminal stage of cancer so quickly". He couldn't save her from this, no matter what he did. From the time she was diagnosed, it only took one month for the tumor to take her life, but not before she could tell him something that would resonate with him for the rest of his life. She was laying in the hospital bed, muscles limp and tired when all of a sudden she grabbed his hand, squeezed it as tight as she could and looked deep into his being with her piercing hazel eyes and told him:
"Don't you ever give up on this city, Clark. Please. For me." He assured her he wouldn't, but she made him promise. That singular oath bound him to forever protecting a city that might never purge itself of crime. But while he was still breathing, he could try and make Metropolis a place where others could carve out a place for themselves without living in fear.
A smirk played across his lips as he turned off the monitor, rising before walking out of the office and into the living room, noting that the island in the kitchen to his right had a bag filled with tacos with a post-it note that simply read:
Eat up, couz! Love, Kara
Complying with the directive of the note, Clark walked to the island and was about to delve into the bag when his ears picked up a faint tremor. The tremor increased in magnitude, then shouting...crackling...
"Let's go! Empty the money into the sacks!"
He shook his head, laying his glasses on the counter as he walked out of his apartment calmly, locking it behind him. He ascended to the roof through the fire escape, suit and tie shedding off of his body to reveal the trademark red and blue uniform that represented everything he stood for. He careened through the air, following the source of the tremor and swooped downward towards the Federal Reserve of Metropolis, two goons with machine guns outside the entrance. Superman landed a few feet in front of them and instructed them:
"Either you can put the guns down and turn yourselves in or I throw you through the nearest wall. Your choice." The goons looked at each other before unloading their clips on the man of steel, the hero sighing as he grabbed one of the henchmen and slammed him into the ground. The other henchmen took off.
"Figures." He looked down at the now unconscious goon.
"You need to pick better friends."