The Icarus Files - Part 1
The Icarus Files, Part 1 By superninja
A DC Universe AU
Tale
All characters belong to Warner Bros. and DC
Comics.
*** He detached the cable and landed on the slick rooftop, wet
from the pouring rain.
Crouching, he leaned out over the edge of the
battlements, shoulder to shoulder with a snarling gargoyle that was vomiting
water onto the street below.
The cape and cowl kept him virtually dry,
although the pointed nose of the mask caused the water to funnel and drip down
onto his throat in awkward rhythm. With a small stroke, he wiped another
splatter from his collarbone.
Looking down again, he gauged he was
roughly twenty-two stories up. The next rooftop wasn't far, but it would require
that he used a grapple and hook again. Of course, he could try flying, but that
took a certain level of concentration he wasn't accustomed to. Father kept
promising him that he would send him to Thymescria to train with Mother, but
somehow it never seemed to come together. And Father always seemed so weary when
he reminded him.
"A year and a half since Mother and Father divorced," he
thought to himself. Father said it broke his heart, but not one picture of her
was left in the Manor. The only one he had was on his nightstand next to his
bed. Every night he would gaze over his mother's beautiful blue eyes and crown
of glorious raven hair and wish that he could stand next to her on that sunny
slope overlooking the Mediterranean.
He shook himself of these melancholy
thoughts, and the rain, and sent the grapple flying to the roof ledge across the
way.
*** Icarus heavily walked the steps from the Cave to the Mansion
upstairs. He felt like he was coming down with something - a cold perhaps. No
doubt Father was still out in the rain, protecting his city. It had been a quiet
night for him overall; only a robbery attempt and a mugging in the park. Really
low-level stuff and still he managed to catch a sniffle. If only he was more
like Father.
Passing a hallway mirror on the way to the kitchen, he
stopped and looked at himself for a moment. His reflection had troubled him
since as early as he could remember. It's very unsettling, being disturbed by
your own face, and yet he was. Something about him was different from everyone
else. He didn't fit it.
The cool blue eyes matched the color of Father's,
but his were somehow softer and smaller. His Mother's were large and almond
shaped, with a much deeper blue. His square chin lacked Father's sharp edges.
His short black hair had a wave through it. It was like Mother's, he decided,
except for the annoying cowlick in the front that made a
single...
"Icarus?"
The young man startled and turned to see the
hologram of Barbara Gordon standing behind him.
"Caleb...are you all
right?" It continued.
"Oracle," he said with a sigh of relief. "Yes, I'm
fine. Except...I-I think I'm coming down with something."
"Oh nonsense,"
the youthful apparition teased. "You have the constitution of a
horse!"
"Not so," Icarus replied. "Father says I have a weak
constitution, and he's right. I'm probably catching a cold. I was out in the
rain all night again."
He looked her over, careful not to stare too hard.
Her long red hair fell past her shoulders and flipped at the ends. She was
wearing a fluffy pink cashmere sweater and a short black skirt with tall boots.
It struck him as funny that a computer program always managed to have a
different outfit for every appearance. Or even funnier that he couldn't wait for
her to show up to see what she was wearing. He really needed a life.
She
seemed lost in thought as he looked at her, but suddenly she replied, "Come down
to the cave and I'll scan you."
Icarus smiled a little, but it quickly
became a frown. "Father doesn't like me being poked and prodded when he's not
around. He said I could get an infection, or worse."
"FATHER," she said
with annoyance, "Isn't here right now."
Icarus watched Oracle tap her
foot with her hands on her hips and chuckled.
She smiled at him
flirtatiously. "Besides, I'll cook you a nice bowl of chicken soup and we
can...talk..."
"All right," he conceded. "But let's
hurry."
***
The hypo needle drew a small amount of blood out of
his shoulder. The electronic arm then swiveled, drawing the sample back into the
computer to be analyzed. A brushed metal tray levitated towards him, carrying a
bowl with steam pouring out of it, and Icarus slipped his navy t-shirt back
on.
"Oh, poo," the image of Oracle appeared on the monitor in front of
him. "Ruin all a girl's fun why don't you!"
Icarus grinned up at her as
the tray settled into his lap.
"If only you were flesh and blood,
Oracle," he said, slurping up a spoonful of the hot soup. A sad smile came over
her expression.
"Mmmm," he said happily. "This tastes great. I feel
better already."
"Let me check the test results," she said.
Her
image faded as the scanning equipment began running a display of the aspects of
his blood - DNA, cell counts, mineral concentrations...on and on.
Then it
stopped.
Oracle appeared again on the screen, but this time she seemed
upset. If Icarus didn't know any better, she was hiding
something.
"Well?" he finally asked in frustration as she stared down at
him. "What do I have?"
"N-nothing," she stammered. "You're perfectly
healthy."
"No way," he shook his head. "Stop messing with
me."
"It's just...Your cellular structure is...odd."
There. She'd
said it. And used that word - the word he always used to describe himself, ever
since he'd been teased as a boy in school. Oddball, weirdo, freak...
He
stood from the chair and sent the tray and its contents flying into the wall,
then looked for something to throw. Oracle flinched and then quickly withdrew
all of the objects as he seethed, clenching and unclenching his
fists.
Settling for the wall, he drew back and punched it as hard as he
could. He thought about doing it again, but then the anger drained out of him
like it always did. Then came the calm. His eyelids drooped and he breathed
slowly and deeply.
"Caleb?" Oracle squeaked.
He opened his eyes to
find the hologram of Barbara staring at the wall. Caleb gently motioned her out
of the way and saw the large gaping hole in the side of the Cave. It was as
large as a man's fist.
***
"Father can't know about this," he
said, pacing back and forth in front of Oracle.
"I'm certainly not
telling him," she replied.
"This means something, Oracle!" he said
stopping in front of her and leaning with his hands onto the console. "It isn't
an accident at all - it's a key to me figuring out why I am the way I
am."
"You're not a freak, Caleb. Don't ever say that..."
"But I'm
not exactly like everyone else, am I?" he snapped. Her pretty mouth turned down
in a frown and Icarus felt guilty. "Tell me more about the test results.
Quickly, before Father returns."
She appeared again at his side as a
hologram, this time dressed in a green jumpsuit with her hair in a bun on the
top of her head.
"For starters, you're much stronger than either your
father or your mother."
Pictures flashed of Wonder Woman and Batman going
through side-by-side physical fitness testing on the screen. The images were
stamped with the JLA logo, a long-defunct team of superheroes that both parents
had once belonged to.
"That's impossible," he began.
"What's
impossible?"
Icarus spun on his heels to see his father standing silently
behind him, dripping from the rain.
"Father..."
He didn't move a
muscle, but his eyes drew angrily towards Oracle. Taking a step forward, he
pulled the cowl back over and off his head, standing messy gray hair on
end.
"It seems it about time for another overhaul," he said plainly,
stepping to the console and pushing a button on the screen that made the images
of his parents disappear.
"Bruce," Oracle started. "It's my fault, he
didn't want to..."
"Vanish," he said menacingly.
Oracle set her
jaw, but then did as she was told, fading away into nothing.
"Father."
Icarus stared at the ground with defeat already in his voice. "I didn't mean to
disobey, it's just..."
"Living up to your namesake, I see."
Icarus
jerked his head up to see his father smiling at him. Not a nice smile, but
rather a wicked one, full of self-importance. Or so Icarus thought.
"I
chose my name because of my desire to fly, Father. Don't mock me
again...Please?" he pleaded.
Bruce Wayne put a hand gently on his son's
shoulder. So lightly that Icarus would hardly have known it was there, but
still, it was an affectionate touch and one that he rarely experienced. The boy
looked up bright-eyed at his father with hope.
"You shouldn't be so
easily intimidated," Bruce carefully chided. "You've got to roll with the
punches, just like out there," he said, motioning with a jerk of his head
towards the entrance to the Cave. "It's no different."
Icarus felt his
mouth tighten in anger and looked back down at the floor before moving towards
the steps that would take him to his room.
"Of course, Father. You're
right as always."
***
How had he made that hole in the
wall?
Icarus concentrated on the answer. What he hoped was that it could
help him to fly as well.
Was it his anger?
No, he'd been angry
before.
Icarus stretched out on top of his bed and stared up at the
ceiling. There was a hologram there of space - infinite stretches of planets and
suns and nebulas. He stared at one solar system spinning far off in the
distance.
Concentration.
He was so focused with anger that he had
punched through the wall. Not a major epiphany, but at least it was
something.
But he'd tried concentration before and it just frustrated
him, so it wasn't just that alone. What had he been thinking? About being a
freak and how he had been tormented by it for so long. His father always telling
him how weak he was, making him feel like he was made of glass.
A life
full of "you can'ts".
He closed his eyes and concentrated. The voice in
his head started to tell him again that he wouldn't be able to do it, that he
was only going to hurt himself. It was Father's.
He pictured shutting a
door on Bruce as he spoke and felt himself rising off of the bed. Eyes still
closed, a beaming smile spread over his face as his nose bumped the space
hologram, shutting it off.
Opening his eyes, he laughed aloud as his form
crashed down onto the bed.
He jumped up from the bed and made his way to
the window. Forcing open the shutters, the wind pushed his hair back as rain
came pouring in, dampening the velveteen curtains.
Icarus stepped onto
the ledge and balanced, looking down all the while. If he fell...he could really
hurt himself. Shaking his head against the fear, he stared out over Gotham's
dark horizon.
Clouds obscured the moon and stars above, and Icarus had an
incredible urge to soar above them, to be somewhere totally free, where no one
would judge him and he wouldn't feel so...alien.
So he closed his eyes
and jumped. And he didn't fall. Instead, he hovered in the air a few feet away
from his bedroom window.
Tears of joy sprang from his eyes, mixing with
the downpour.
He looked up to the clouds, watching the raindrops come
charging towards him. They looked so different somehow. Like they were in slow
motion. Like if he stared hard enough he could see the molecules dancing
together on the surface of each tiny silvery drop. Icarus shot up into the
sky as fast as he could, his mind focused only on breaking through the cloud
cover above. The wispy material seemed to hover about him for a moment as he
pushed his way higher.
Then it was bright, and the moon illuminated the
clouds beneath his feet for thousands of miles.
And there were stars,
millions of them.
He shouted as loud as he could, knowing there was no
one who could hear.
"I CAN FLY!!!"
***
He had floated on
his back for hours, just looking up at the universe above him. For a fleeting
moment he wished he could share it with Oracle, but again, she was just a
program, or God knows what if Bruce had re-imaged her as punishment.
For
the first time in his life, he felt free. And warm. Shouldn't he be cold this
far up in the atmosphere?
Rolling onto his stomach, he stretched his arms
out like his mother did when she flew. His mother! He could fly to Thymescria
right now if he wanted to! The thought of it made his heart leap for joy. But
Father would be so worried...and his heart wasn't so good any more.
A low
hum suddenly filled the air, shaking him loose from his pondering.
Concentrating, he focused on pinpointing the sound. It was far away, it must be.
Surely he couldn't hear *that* far?
But it kept on steadily, like a drum.
Curious, Icarus followed it.
***
There was a point he knew he
should've turned back, but he didn't. How could he now when it was louder than
ever before?
He'd been flying north for hours now. He knew it was north
because the climate had gotten much cooler and patches of ice were beginning to
show. Father was going to kill him. He was going to get himself into some
real trouble here; he could just feel it.
"I'm not in Kansas anymore!" he
said aloud, looking down at the Arctic tundra below, reflected pale and blue in
the moonlight. The sound was strongest here...he was so close!
He
wondered if anything else could hear it. Or anyone.
Then it stopped. He
looked to the hilltop below and decided to rest for a moment. Flying gently to
the ground, he took a light step to make sure it was solid.
That's when
he realized the hill actually wasn't a hill at all.
The structure stood
at least fifteen stories, rounded on the sides like a hill with a gentle slope
at the top. It was as white as the ice was, with heavy metal doors in the
front. Is this why he was here?
Icarus walked to the doors cautiously
and placed his hands on them. Nothing happened. He put fingers on each side of
the crack to try to shove them apart, and nearly fell over when they opened of
their own accord.
Bright lights came on in the hallway, long and sliver
with reflective surfaces. He continued until he made his way into a large
circular chamber with what looked like a control panel at its center. Everything
was so barren and empty. Sadness suddenly fell over him at that moment and he
wondered if he would ever find the answers that he was seeking.
Who had
called him here, and why?
As he stepped towards the control panel, the
room became illuminated so brightly that he covered his eyes. When he took them
away, the hologram of a man stood before him.
He recognized him
instantly. He'd seen him a million times on television - even in person once.
Father didn't like him.
"Superman..." he barely breathed the
words.
The hologram smiled down on him and opened its mouth to
speak.
