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Lex Luthor spent a lot of time thinking about Superman, naturally. How to show the world how awful he really was, how to kill him, what he did every day when he wasn’t saving people and how to exploit that to kill him…
That sort of thing.
But it had never even occurred to him that Superman might have a “secret identity.” The very idea was foolish. Superman’s name was Kal-El, he lived in his Fortress of Solitude in the Arctic, and he spent his time each day saving lives and pretending he wasn’t better than everyone else and didn’t infuriate people just by existing.
It was one of Lex’s interns that put the pieces together, actually. Doing his best to secure himself a permanent position in Lexcorp, Kevin had been scouring all the publicly available information on Superman for something useful and noticed a few key things:
One—the man’s stated age. He claimed he was “around thirty years old,” but didn’t want to state exactly how old for privacy reasons.
Two—the man had once commented on seeing a certain stupid movie Lex would never lower himself to seeing in theaters. Said movie, if Superman was telling the truth about his age, came out when Kal-El was only around eleven.
Conclusion—Superman had been on Earth far earlier than Lex had ever realized. Which meant, given the whole world would have noticed if someone had openly adopted and raised an alien child, someone had adopted and raised the child Kal-El in secret.
Kevin had presented all this information to Lex in a report, likely hoping the information gain a promotion. Lex had laughed it off at first, mainly due to the man’s asinine conclusion.
That being that the alien Kal-El was still lowering himself by living in the human identity his human parents must have given him to enable him to be raised in secrecy.
Only later, when Lex was looking at Superman’s save data and flight patterns that he realized Superman did not have nearly as many active saves in the daytime as one might expect, suggesting perhaps the man had other daily obligations, such as a job, that he adhered to.
Kevin did indeed get that promotion. Anyone who was so dedicated to helping Lex take down Superman deserved a permanent place in this organization.
The only problem was figuring out who Superman was in secret. He obviously had some sort of cloaking technology or even hypnotic technology to hide his connection to the superhero, otherwise everyone would have noticed their boss was Superman.
When Lex thought about it, there was only one person it could be, one person who made sense. One person who had black hair and blue eyes, one person who was always in Lex’s way and Lexcorp’s way, one person who seemed to have dedicated his life to ending as many of Lex’s shadier business practices as possible, one person who seemed to delight in Lex’s misfortunes, one person who thrilled in every Lexcorp contract that was canceled because of his efforts, one person who Lex had been longing for ages to have an excuse to punch in the face but, due to the conventions of polite society, sadly could not.
When Lex had figured out who Superman was, surprising him in his workplace with kryptonite was going to be as easy as taking candy from a baby.
Bruce Wayne had spent far more time in his offices at Wayne Enterprises actually doing business than he ever expected. Zatanna had casually passed through a few weeks ago and lifted some sort of curse she encountered in Gotham’s sewers, and ever since then, Bruce’s nights had progressively gotten so boring he had actually been getting good amounts of sleep. And he had gotten so bored, he had turned to his official title as CEO of Wayne Enterprises to cure his boredom.
Not that Bruce was ever one to complain about lower crime rates in Gotham, but if this didn’t let up soon, he was about to wander into the middle of Gotham as Batman at night and remark on how quiet a night it was.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Wayne, Lex Luthor is here,” Bruce’s secretary said over the intercom. “I know he’s not on the schedule but he’s insisting you meet with him.”
Bruce snorted. Well, this ought to be interesting. Even before he had gotten to know Clark and Lex had self appointed himself as the man’s arch nemesis, the man had been a business rival of Bruce’s just begging to be punched in the face. Now, Bruce awaited any opportunity that would plausibly give him a reason to hit him for how many times he’d tried to kill Superman alone, not to mention everything else.
“Send him in,” he said, pressing a button under his desk to activate the cameras he had in his office, just in case.
Not long after, Lex sauntered in, that smarmy smile that fooled no one painted all over his face. “Bruce, it’s been too long!”
“What are you doing here?” Bruce asked, not bothering with a hello or any friendly pleasantries. He had never pretended to like Lex Luthor and he wasn’t going to start now.
“What, two of the richest CEOs on the planet can’t have a friendly chat with each other?” Lex asked. “You wound me. And after I came all this way to stop by.”
Bruce raised one eyebrow. “Metropolis and Gotham aren’t that far from each other. Forgive me for not being glad you’re imposing on my busy schedule without a good reason.”
“Oh, trust me, Bruce, there is a good reason. A good reason indeed.” Lex reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a ring with a green stone set in it. “Look familiar?”
The stone wasn’t emerald, and Bruce didn’t remember the Luthors having a family ring that resembled anything close to that.
“No. Should it?” Bruce asked.
Lex slipped the ring on his index finger and leaned on the desk, flaunting the ring. The green stone was even odder up close, almost as if it was glowing—
Hang on.
Was that kryptonite?
Was that Lex’s stupid kryptonite ring?
Why on Earth would Lex be showing Bruce his kryptonite ring?
“Oh, come on, don’t be so coy, Superman,” Lex said. “You’re hiding your pain remarkably well for now, but you and I both know this is the stone that kills you. Crazy how little kryptonite you need to have such a big impact, right?”
Bruce couldn’t help it.
He burst out laughing.
“Superman? Me?” Bruce tried and failed to smother his laughter. “You’re trying… You thought…” Didn’t Lex know Bruce wasn’t nearly a good enough person to be Superman?
“Oh, come on, your silly little playboy act can’t fool me any longer, Bruce,” Lex said. “Or should I call you Kal-El? You’re far more intelligent than you pretend to be, any fool could see that. Once I put the pieces together, it was obvious.”
Kal-El. Him.
Bruce was a calm, stoic, serious person. He was a creature of the shadows. He was vengeance. He was the night.
He was curled over his desk, laughing so hard tears were coming to his eyes.
“You think I’m an alien? You think I’d willingly wear bright red and blue in public?” Bruce laughed, wiping his tears away. “You’re hilarious, Lex. I needed that, thank you.”
“This isn’t a joke!” Lex roared. “I’ve been trying to put an end to you for ages, and now that I’ve discovered who you truly are, I’ll finally succeed. Consider these your final moments, Superman.”
And Lex charged around the desk and punched him in the face.
Now, Bruce could have easily put him down in a few punches, and no one would even have been suspicious, given he’s a Gothamite. He could have been the better man, called for security, and played the shocked, affronted soft rich boy terrorized by the wild accusations.
But Bruce had been waiting for an excuse to brawl with Lex Luthor for a really, really long time.
He tackled Lex full on and plowed his fist into his face. He tossed out all his most effective techniques for ending a fight cleanly and quickly and let himself loose in an all-out brawl with Lex. No need to end the fight so fast. He wanted to enjoy this.
Lex grabbed the lapels of Bruce’s coat and turned them over, slamming Bruce’s head into the floor.
Dull pain throbbed through the back of Bruce’s head. He drove his knees into Lex’s stomach.
Lex curled in on himself, choking. He slammed his fist with the kryptonite ring into Bruce’s cheek again. “Your life is over, Kryptonian!”
“You’re crazy!” Bruce slammed his knees into his stomach again, using that momentum to flip them back over.
Thus situated, he pinned Lex firmly to the ground and slammed his fists into his face over and over. He would have kept doing that until pried away from him if Lex hadn’t driven his knee into Bruce’s groin.
No amount of training could stop him from freezing in hot pain. Lex used that momentum to flip them both over again and lock his hands around his throat.
“I hope you said goodbye, Kal-El,” Lex snarled.
Enough was enough. Bruce trapped one of Lex’s hands between his and snapped his wrist.
Lex curled in on himself and screamed.
Bruce punched him again and again and—
Someone was prying Lex away from him. Two more people were holding him back from attacking Lex again.
Now it was time to be the shaken victim.
Bruce whipped up some fake tears and pointed an accusing finger at Lex Luthor, sniffling.
“He tried to kill me! He attacked me and said I was Superman and tried to strangle me! He’s crazy!”
“I know you’re Superman! I’ll tell the whole world and everyone will know the truth!” Lex shouted as he was being dragged out. “I know the truth! I know the truth!”
Somehow, Lex must have gotten more licks in than Bruce had realized. He submitted to the frantic flurrying of his staff and let his security snap pictures and call the police. Somebody gave him a wad of paper towels to press against his nose and someone else dabbed the blood away from his face.
Normally, he prided himself on taking care of his own wounds as much as possible and having Alfred bind him up when he couldn’t do it himself with any injuries he got as Batman. And he was proud of the injuries he sustained and the pain he endured fighting for justice.
And he would never, ever admit this to anyone in the Justice League.
But being fussed over? It was kind of nice.
Commissioner Jim Gordon showed up right before the paramedics did, and met him as they were walking to the elevator.
“What’s this I hear about you punching Lex Luthor?” his long-suffering friend asked.
“He was crazy,” Bruce said, his voice muffled against the paper towels pressed to his face. “He said I was Superman and tried to kill me. I had to defend myself, Commissioner. You can see it all in the security tapes.”
“Ah, you have cameras then?” Jim asked.
“With sound,” Bruce added.
“That will make our job a sight easier,” Jim said. “You take care of yourself, now.
“I will,” Bruce promised.
Beating up Lex Luthor had apparently given Bruce quite the battle injuries and he hadn’t even noticed it. He’d been sent home with some high strength painkillers, a few stitches in his forehead, and one arm in a sling from a wrenched shoulder he somehow hadn’t felt the pain from until he was being triaged in the emergency room.
He couldn’t wait until Lex got out and tried again. He’d wanted to beat him up since boarding school. Pompous buffoon.
Bruce had expected a flash of red and blue and a very concerned friend hovering just out of sight since the beginning of the fight. But it was only just as he was about to walk into Wayne Manor that Clark appeared in front of him, hovering and frowning in that way he had when he was considering everything that had happened his fault.
“Bruce, I’m so… What… It was…” Clark stopped and tried again. “I leave the planet for a few hours and Lex has been arrested?”
Bruce gestured him inside.
Still frowning, Clark walked inside with him to a sitting room, where Bruce settled down in the nearest chair with a contented sigh.
“Yes, Lex Luthor had been arrested,” Bruce said, unable to keep the smirk from his face.
“And he attacked you? Bruce, I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you, I should have—” Clark started.
“Clark, he had kryptonite,” Bruce said. “If you were there, he would have killed you.”
“But why…?” Clark said, but cut himself off. “I heard people saying that he said you were…?”
Bruce laughed, unable to help himself at the memory, even though it hurt to laugh. “He thought I was you. He brandished his kryptonite ring in front of me as if he expected me to react, but I didn’t even realize it was kryptonite at first.”
“I am so sorry,” Clark said again, his whole body drooping. “You never should have been caught in Lex’s twisted war against me and I hate that you got hurt because of me. I’m so sorry, Bruce.”
“Why? I’m not,” Bruce said. “I finally got the chance to punch Lex Luthor in the face. I’ve been wanting to do that for years.”
Bruce sat back and visibly watched the upright superhero and the jealous friend battle themselves on Clark’s face until the jealous friend finally won.
“How did it feel? To punch him in the face,” Clark asked. “Tell me everything.”