Hurts Like Heaven

Chapter 2 - Bet You Didn't Know That I Was Dangerous

***KARA***

I wish Conner wasn't following us. He was just in the thick of things with the people in that Luthor truck, and he doesn't quite look like he's back to full health. Then again, though, Clark 2 is giving chase as well, and though I'm not technically related to him by blood, I can't help but feel for him. What if he gets hard-hit by those LuthorCorp commandos and their kryptonite gauntlets? Every world needs a Superman, even a relatively foolhardy one. So I'm not about to let this one lose himself permanently.

I'm the first to catch up to Clark as he flies after the truck, then stops to hover about a hundred yards behind it, fifty feet in the air. (Watch me trying to calculate the trigonometry of the triangle formed by him, the truck, and the point on the ground directly below his feet. It'd take an ungodly long time - math is not my strong suit.)

"Better hope we're out of range of kryptonite RPGs," I whisper to him.

"Don't even imagine those, please." Clark 2 bites his lip. "We wouldn't be able to take them out before they could damage the local architec...oh, but we got a speedster on our side today. I dunno, maybe he could do it?" He nods down to the ground, where Barry keeps on running after the truck, trailing lightning. "He's a metahuman, right? Like Jesse Quick?"

"Who now?"

"Oh, that's the name of our top speedster around here. She's a sweet kid. Maybe a couple years older than Conner. Have you met her?"

I think back to our first day here on Earth-2, when we met Harrison Wells' daughter. Jesse - that was her name, right? "I think so. I think she works at-"

"Hold on." Clark 2 tugs on my arm and points at the nearby bridge separating Central and Keystone Cities. "They've loaded the kryptonite in the back of that truck, right?"

"I think so...why?" I think I know where Clark 2's mind is headed, and I'm not sure I'm liking his current train of thought.

"What say we give these guys a roadblock they'll never forget?"

Clark 1 - my actual cousin - soars up next to us. "What am I hearing from you? And why do you look so much younger than I do?"

Clark 2 winks. "I look younger? Well, that's probably just my lingering baby fat." He taps his jaw with two fingers. Sure, his features are a tad bit less chiseled than Clark's, but not every Kryptonian has to be an absolute 100% stunner, am I right? And to be honest...sorry, Clark, but Clark 2 has a bit of a better smile and a slightly sunnier disposition. I think you could learn from him, you know?

Oh, but you're not hearing my thoughts, because you're busy following Clark 2 as he flies ahead of that truck. If he's got a reckless streak, he's infecting you with it, and I don't like that...but you know what? Two can play at game. Or, well, three. Or four, five, six if we're counting Barry, Conner, and Diana.

Which I am, but that's really neither here nor there.

What's here, and there, is me, and my fellow heroes, flying after that truck and getting ahead of it. Thankfully, there's no traffic on the bridge - I think it's closed because of the game, not that it stops these LuthorCorp people from blazing a path past the traffic cones in front of the bridge entrance. A couple of traffic cops on bikes try to chase them down, but they don't stand a snowball's chance in hell of catching up.

Not like we do.

We fly over the bridge, getting to about the halfway point while the truck is still a quarter of the way across or so. Together with the two Clarks, I stand in the middle of the road, and see that the truck isn't about to stop anytime soon. The driver pulls the air horn several times, but we simply stay put, exchanging glances and getting ready to block the truck ourselves.

"This is a stupid idea, right?" Clark asks.

"It is," I tell him, "but it's no less loco than letting these guys get away."

"And we gotta fight loco with loco, as it were." Clark 2 leans forward, pointing his shoulder towards the incoming truck. "Ready, cousins?"

"Ready," Clark and I say, eerily in unison, as we copy Clark 2's stance.

With the three of us putting our shoulders out, we've got no problem forming an impenetrable barrier against the oncoming truck. The driver, stupidly, completely fails to brake, and our shoulders pulverize the hood and the engine underneath it, while also helping to force the whole thing to a total standstill.

I look up and see, through the spiderweb of cracks in the windshield over our heads, the deployed airbag blocking our view of the driver. Maybe he broke his nose? Can't imagine how that feels. I also can't imagine being so morally compromised as to willingly work for Lex Luthor, of all people. On any Earth, unless there's one where he's actually a good guy. (But wouldn't that mean that Earth's Clark is a bad guy? And so would be that Earth's Kara Danvers, and probably their Barry Allen and Diana Prince too. Unimaginable, am I right?)

The commandos spill out the back, which is pointing up at an awkward angle because the truck went and jackknifed in the face of three Kryptonian football shoulders. They put on their gauntlets, and right away I feel that sick buzz of imminent kryptonite poisoning...

...but then lightning swirls around them and their gauntlets disappear as Barry takes them away for disposal elsewhere. Where exactly, I can't say. Probably STAR Labs. The further from here, the better, especially now that Conner's joining us.

And Diana too, her sword drawn all over again.

Clark 2 whistles. "If my Diana were here right now, you two would fangirl all over each other like you wouldn't believe."

"Maybe we'll meet later," Diana says. "Over ice cream, perhaps?"

"Sounds like a lovely plan," I say, "but we gotta deal with these assbutts first." I jerk my thumb at the commandos, who have their guns drawn and ready to fire.