Post by johnreiter902 on Nov 6, 2019 0:07:54 GMT
by Christian R. Jacobsen (November 2nd 2008)
Metropolis
344 Clinton Street, Apt. 3-BHome of Clark Kent
3:27 am
Clark Kent sat bolt upright in bed, his shirtless upper body dripping
in cold sweat, screaming. The nightmare he just woke from made him
shake in absolute terror, like no other nightmare he had ever had
before...or had he?
He sat in his bed, holding his head in both hands, trying to shake
off the effects of this nightmare, this horror. This shouldn't be
happening to him, he was Superman after all. Bad dreams shouldn't be
making the legendary "Man of Steel" afraid. He'd faced countless
evils in his time...Luthor, Brainiac, the Parasite...why was this
dream of a monster like something out a story written years before he
arrived on Earth from Krypton by H.P. Lovecraft gripping him with
such unbelievable terror.
Times like this, he wished that Ma Kent were still alive. Growing up
in Smallville, he knew he could always talk to her about bad dreams,
usually over a cup of hot cocoa and a piece of rhubarb pie, and even
though she might not really understand everything he had to deal with
as Superboy, she was there for her son, lending an open ear, and it
always made him feel better.
"Got to shake this off," he said as he got up and padded over to the
bathroom. He flipped the light switch, casting a bright beam of
illumination in the small tiled room. He stared at himself in the
mirror. He didn't look good. His eyes were reddened, and he looked
like hell, like he hadn't slept in a week. He grabbed the small cup
from the sink and filled it with cool water from the faucet. He knew
that a drink of water really wouldn't help him to calm down, but he
needed to get that horrible taste out of his mouth...even
invulnerable Kryptonians woke up with morning breath.
Clark had to settle himself and calm down before he went back to
bed. He needed to get a good night's rest...a good night's rest for
him being only two hours...and so far, he had only gotten ten minutes
before the nightmare woke him, screaming.
That nightmare still had a hold over him. He tried to retrace it in
his mind, a trick that Martha Kent had once taught him to make bad
dreams go away. It had begun simple enough. In the dream, he walked
through a black doorway in some nondescript room. Or was it a
hallway? He had been Superman when he opened the door, but somehow
he had become Superboy, and instinctively he knew that he was the Boy
of Steel, without even seeing his reflection.
There were others there with him: Lana Lang in her guise as the
Insect Queen; Arthur Curry during his days as Aquaboy; Bruce Wayne in
his guise as the original Robin, but wearing a costume that was more
like his Batman outfit but in red and black and with a domino mask
instead of the cowl; Oliver Queen as "Arrow", his first identity
before he became Green Arrow. There were others there as well.
Three he thought he recognized, but wasn't sure, and the teenaged
Garok the Witch-Boy, his oldest friend from his time as Superbaby
when he knew the young and mischievous warlock as Gary. And of
course, as always, his faithful friend and partner, Krypto the
Superdog, was at his side.
The ten of them were fighting a monster. Or was it a demon? Or was
it both? Whatever it was, this creature was very reminiscent of
Lovecraft's descriptions of Cthulu, the Thing That Must Not Be. They
were all fighting very valiantly, each of the others following
Superboy into the fray, it seemed as though nothing could stop them.
Superboy had just landed a series of right crosses onto one of the
monster's numerous groping tentacles. Insect Queen had wrapped up
two more tentacles with the webbing she produced from her hands while
simulating the abilities of a Beetleguisan spider-beast. Krypto his
jaws wrapped around another of the monster's tentacles, holding on as
tight as a super-powered Kryptonian canine could. Garok had been
blasting the monster with bursts of mystical fire. As these flames
engulfed the monster, Garok turned to his friend, a look of fear in
his eyes, and said "I couldn't hold him any longer Clark! Icthultu's
loose! Icthultu's loose!"
That was when the terror had gripped him and Clark had woken up
screaming.
He didn't understand it. None of these events had ever happened.
Bruce never wore a Robin costume like the one from the dream. Ollie
had never used the identity of "Arrow"...in fact, he had never taken
up an active role as a costumed adventurer until he officially became
Green Arrow at that masquerade party after his return from the
island. And then there was Garok. He had only seen Garok once
during his time as Superboy, when the young mage had briefly battled
him for possession of that cocoon of power during Lana's bid to
become class president. After that incident, he hadn't seen his old
friend again. Or had he? He could swear that he had encountered the
sorcerer numerous times during his youth in Smallville, but for the
life of him he had no actual memories of those past encounters.
It was so very strange. There were so many questions nagging at him
and running through his head. Who were those other heroes? When did
this battle happen? Why couldn't he remember it? What did this
dream mean?
As he reached for the light switch, he glanced into the bathroom
mirror, but no longer saw his tired face...he saw Garok's face,
slightly older, but still the visage of his friend. His friend's
image spoke to him, a look of urgency emphasizing each word. "He's
free Clark. Icthultu's freed himself from the Dimension of
Shadows! You have to get the others, and help me to free myself
from this horrible place, but most of all, you have to remember your
time with the Teen Wonders! And, Rosebud is weeping."
There seemed to be a flash of light at that last word, and Clark
collapsed unconscious on the cold tile floor. He lay there
motionless for long moments that seemed to drag on an on. All was
quiet in the bathroom. When he finally awoke after what felt like a
dog's age, he no longer looked like the haggard man he had seen in
the mirror earlier. He was Superman, a look of strength and
determination on his face. And what's more, now he remembered
everything.
At super-speed, he put on his distinctive red, blue, and yellow
costume. Opening the window into the crisp night air, he launched
himself skyward, a blue and red blur of a human missile angling
himself towards a rendezvous with the Justice League's old cave
headquarters in Happy Harbor, Rhode Island. As he zoomed through the
night sky, he pulled his JLA communicator from where he had secreted
it on his belt.
Putting it up to his mouth and pressing the "Talk" button, he spoke
into it in a short, clipped tone. "This is Superman," he
began, "issuing a Priority Alpha alert. I need Aquaman, Batman, and
Green Arrow to meet me at the cave in Happy Harbor in 12 minutes.
Repeat, this is a Priority Alpha alert. Happy Harbor, 12 minutes."
Replacing the communicator on his belt, he continued on towards the
old meeting place, hoping that the others would hear his call and
respond. "Gary's life depends on it."
* * *
The Justice League's old cave headquarters was dark, dank, and cold
just the way Batman preferred it. This place was held a great deal
of nostalgia for the Dark Knight Detective, and reminded him a lot of
the Batcave. He preferred this place to the satellite; he was a
creature of the night after all, and he always felt at home in caves
and caverns, much like his winged namesake. The satellite was too
modern for his tastes.
He stood there for long moments, waiting in the shadows, his mind
running Clark's message over and over in his head. Whatever was
happening, it was obviously very important to his old friend, but
certain things just didn't seem to add up and he was having a hard
time wrapping his deductive mind around the situation. There were
too many questions that had no answers, and he hated that.
Why did Superman issue a Priority Alpha alert, but only request
Arthur, Ollie, and himself and not the entire current roster?
Why meet at the cave and not at the satellite?
Just what the hell was going on?
Times like this, he longed for an elaborately planned out crime wave
of the Riddler's. At least when he dealt with Nigma, all the pieces
of the puzzle were right there in front of his face and all he had to
do was figure out how they fit together.
As Batman mused from the shadows, he apparently hadn't noticed Green
Arrow entering the cave, nor the fact that the archer and was now
standing only a few steps in front of him. "You might want to pay a
little more attention, Bruce," the bearded archer clad all in green
joked. "Were I someone like the Joker, you'd be dead right now."
From his spot in the shadows, Batman raised his eyes beneath his cowl
and was now staring at his old ally, their eyes locked. "I smelled
you before you even entered the cave, Oliver. You're still wearing
that god-awful cheap cologne."
"Hah-hah, very funny, Bruce. That act may work with the psychotic
criminals of Gotham, but not me. I've known you too long."
Batman just smirked. He knew that Ollie was right, but he just
didn't want to give the archer the satisfaction of knowing it. "I
see you got Clark's message, too. Any idea what's going on?"
"Beats me. Clark and I aren't exactly as buddy-buddy as the two of
you are. I was about to ask you the same thing."
"Hmmm. I have no idea either. If something's up, he hasn't let me
in on it."
"Nor I," came a familiar voice from deeper in the cave.
Green Arrow recognized the familiar voice right away. "Arthur."
"Oliver, Bruce," the regal Atlantean replied as he stepped forth from
the shadows. "This is not like him to play things so close to the
vest. This is something more up your alley Bruce."
Batman ignored the jab. "Let's go into the old meeting room and find
the big blue Boy Scout. I have a lot of questions, and I am not
leaving here without answers."
"And I wouldn't expect you to, Bruce," Superman called back, his
distinctive voice echoing from the general direction of the meeting
room. "Come on in and I'll tell you what's going on. It's a long
and complicated story, and you guys are probably not going to believe
word one of it."
As the three adventurers entered the abandoned meeting room, each was
filled with thoughts of the old days, the days when the team was
still new to each other, still young. Ollie smiled as he thought
about all the laughter and camaraderie that once filled this
room. "We used to have fun here," he mused quietly to himself. But
that was before the team moved up to the satellite, before he and
Hawkman had started vehemently debating the political issues of the
day, before the bickering, before the Crisis, before they lost Barry
and Diana.
The meeting room was dimly lit, and the minor illumination there
seemed to cast an eerie haze across the Man of Tomorrow's chiseled
face. He was sitting in near total darkness, elbows on the meeting
table, fingers steepled in front of his face. He appeared to have a
look of melancholy on his face. None in the trio was used to seeing
him looking this way. The Superman they knew was more often the man
who got them all to smile with his upbeat, optimistic looks of
encouragement. They were all now completely sure that something
serious was wrong.
The Man of Steel gestured for them to take a seat at the dusty old
table, and all but Batman did so immediately. That Dark Knight just
stood there, his eyes taking in every detail of his friend's face,
looking for some sign of exactly what might be going on in the
Kryptonian's mind by even the smallest detail of a glance or the way
he was breathing. He found nothing, and it frustrated him. The
detective couldn't discern any obvious clues.
"Bruce," Superman said, his eyes looking directly up at his old
friend without so much as a moving his head, "will you please sit
down. I have I a very long story to tell and it would be far easier
to do so, without you trying to stare me down."
"Fine, Clark. But this better be good." Batman sat down, pulling
his cowl off of his face, revealing the handsome face of Bruce Wayne,
a face that had been on the cover of virtually every weekly news and
entertainment magazine at least 50 times in the past 10 years. He
didn't smile, he just returned the Man of Steel's stoic gaze.
"I want to thank you all for coming on such short notice," Superman
began slowly, making certain to make eye contact with each of his
associates as he spoke. "This is going to sound very strange, but I
had a dream this evening, really more of a nightmare, and it happened
to involve all of us, as well as five others who we once knew, but
were forced to forget for the safety of this world."
Each of the three heroes gave him a puzzled look at this statement,
but only Green Arrow voiced his concern and puzzlement. "Clark, just
what in the hell are you talking about?"
"To explain myself, we need to go back about fifteen years, to a time
when we were all still teenagers, when I was still Superboy battling
evil in Smallville alongside Krypto." Superman paused for a moment
to clear his throat and to make certain he wasn't rushing his words.
He wanted to say everything right, to not leave anything out, so he
needed to take his time.
"There was a team of teenaged super-heroes back then. You might
actually consider them to be something of a forerunner of the Teen
Titans. We were nine teenage heroes, plus my canine compatriot
Krypto the Superdog, all different in attitude and demeanor. Some
had powers, some didn't. We were from different walks of life,
different backgrounds, and sometimes we clashed because of these
things, but that never stopped us from being something greater
together than when we were apart. And most of all, we were friends.
"We worked together for a year, starting in September of 1972, until
our last case in September of 1973. We battled threats of all shapes
and sizes: mythical monsters and outer space conquerors, petty
criminals and costumed super-villains. We were the Teen Wonders, and
we thought that we could do it all. That is, until we met the demon
known as Ichthultu."
"Why haven't we ever heard of this team before?" Batman was staring
his old friend down. He didn't want to let Superman finish his tale
before voicing his overt skepticism.
"Because, Bruce," Superman replied, "Zatara the Magician put a spell
on myself, Krypto, and the other seven who remained after our last
case to make us forget that the team ever existed."
It was now Aquaman's turn to ask a pointed question. "Clark, you
keep saying `us' as if the three of us were there with you. Why?"
"It's actually very simple, Arthur. You three were members of the
team with me."
All were shocked by this statement, none more so than Green Arrow,
who thought that Superman had been pulling a practical joke. "Nice
try Clark, but we all know that that is impossible, because first, I
don't remember this, and second, I never had a secret identity as a
teenaged costumed adventurer. I may have come to Smallville as a
teenager and you may have helped me to improve my archery skills, but
that was all that ever happened. So, I don't know about the rest of
you, but I'm going back home. If I leave now, I may be able to catch
the last twenty minutes of the Johnny Nevada show." Green Arrow
stood up and started to leave, but Superman, in a blur of super-speed
stopped him.
"Ollie," the Man of Steel said in a whisper that only the archer
could hear, "Rosebud is weeping."
"What did you say, Clark?"
"Rosebud is weeping."
Green Arrow fell to the floor, motionless and unconscious. As he
fell, the others rushed to the side of their stricken comrade, and
Batman was already attempting to administer first aid using the kit
in his golden utility belt. Before Batman could do anything more
than take Green Arrow's pulse and check his breathing, the Emerald
Archer had already come around, and he was screaming at Superman.
"You idiot! We were supposed to forget! You just undid everything!
Ichthultu is gonna get loose now!"
"He's already loose, Ollie," Superman calmly replied to his excited
friend, trying to settle him down. "Gary appeared to me in my
dream. He awoke my memories, and he told me that the demon is
already free."
"Oh God," Green Arrow said, a look of absolute terror on his
face. "We're in trouble."
"Clark," Batman said in a very matter of fact tone, "I think you
better tell us the rest of what's going on."
* * *
An hour later, after Superman had reawakened the memories of Batman
and Aquaman, and fully relayed the events of his dream to his
friends, an even more grim discussion had begun.
"So, what do we do now?" Green Arrow had finally removed his mask
and Robin Hood cap and was sitting once again at the meeting table, a
cup of hot coffee in his hand. He figured that it was about time
that he asked the pointed question. "After all", he had thought to
himself, "can't let Bruce have all the fun."
Superman had been pacing near his chair at the meeting table, hands
clasped behind his back. For the first time in his life, the first
time in his career as a costumed adventurer, he was totally unsure of
what to do, and it scared him. "I don't know, Ollie," he finally
said after a few long, tense moments. "I just don't know."
"Clark," Aquaman said, "you brought the four of us together tonight
for a reason. I think you know what we have to do. We have to
awaken the others."
"I agree with Arthur, Clark," Batman said in a tone that was barely
above a whisper. "Gary needs our help, and we need the others."
"True, Bruce," Superman replied, "but what if I'm wrong? What if
awakening our memories is worse than the threat of the demon?"
"We fought him once, Clark, and we'll fight him again."
"Alright then," the Man of Steel spoke, determination and strength
once again in his voice, "we'll awaken the others, and it might be a
good idea if we split up, each one of us taking one of the other
members."
"Agreed," the others replied almost in unison.
"Bruce, you take Nightshade. He's in Sydney, Australia, running his
corporate empire."
"Clark, I know all too well about what our good friend Bartel
Benjamin Cross is up to."
"Right, Bruce." Sometimes Superman forgot just how much information
was at his friend's fingertips as the so-called "Dark Knight
Detective". Superman nodded to Batman, then turned to
Aquaman. "Arthur?"
"Yes, Clark?"
"Take Empress. I think she's working for one of the local television
studios in Tokyo as an actress. At least that's the last I heard."
"I'm on it, Clark. Nancy Kwan will be Empress once again."
Superman turned to face the seated Green Arrow, but before he could
say anything, the unmasked archer was already protesting. "I am not
going to Switzerland. So forget it Clark."
"Ollie," the Man of Steel began, "there are only two other members
plus Krypto to go after. First off, Lana and I live in the same
city, so I'm taking the Insect Queen. Second, Krypto is in space,
and last I checked, you can't survive unprotected in outer space and
you're allergic to dogs. Therefore, that leaves Earth-Girl to you."
"Clark, she and I couldn't stand each other back then. We're liable
to try and kill each once I use the code phrase on her."
"We're not discussing this any further, Ollie. This is not a
request, Ollie. You will go to Zermatt, Switzerland and you will
awaken the memories of Violet von Bargen. There is no further debate
on this subject. Am I clear?"
"As crystal, Clark," Green Arrow snapped back. "As crystal."
"Then let's get moving, my friends," Superman began, as he led the
three others out of the meeting room and towards the cave's
entrance. "We meet back here in twenty-four hours, with our other
friends."
At that last word, Superman took off into the sky, becoming a blur of
blue against the late night sky as he arced back towards his
rendezvous in Metropolis with the Insect Queen, Lana Lang. The
others did not stare after their friend for very long. They merely
set about their work. The sleepers must be awakened. Of the three
of them, only Batman was unsure of just what they were getting
themselves into this time, and he shuddered as he remembered what had
happened to Garok. "We'll get you out, Gary. I promise you that."
A few moments later, the Batplane was zipping through the sky,
heading on its way to Australia, and its pilot's meeting with Bartel
Benjamin Cross, the man who once was known as Nightshade.