Braedey Martin: Unlimited

Ch 3: Hero Time

Kara stayed with Braedey for most the night, only leaving when she knew that the Kents would be waking up. Though neither had gotten much sleep, both Braedey and Kara felt better for the emotional release, and for that, Braedey was especially grateful. Though both would later remember the event with a touch of awkwardness, neither commented on it. They were friends; awkwardness was expected every now and then.

The next few days may not have been eventful, but they were just what Braedey needed. Every day, he would help the Kents with chores and farm work, usually with the help of his forms. After he was done, he would hang out with Kara; usually he would show her more of his transformations, or tell her more of his adventures. Every night after the first, he would have nightmares but, fortunately, they were not as severe. After the third night, he was actually able to fall asleep again after the nightmare ended.

Braedey had more company than just the Kent family. Superman would visit from Metropolis every other day to check up on him, and the other League members each paid the young man a visit as well, only while in civilian clothes, and only by themselves, to avoid suspicion. Except for Batman. The Dark Knight only called the Kent home once, and only briefly. It was certainly a surprise for Braedey. Batman had never seemed the comforting type, so even checking up on him via phone call must have been weird. Still, it did wonders for Braedey's emotional state to find out that there were people who cared for him. He wasn't alone.

~*~*~
Gotham City, The Batcave

Batman sat at his computer, lost in thought. He had barely left his chair since Braedey had left for Smallville. He had even entrusted Batgirl and Robin with more patrol duties to cover for him, much to the surprise of his young partners. He stared at the image on his computer. An image of Braedey Martin stared back at him.

Bruce heard footsteps coming from behind him, but he didn't turn around. Years of training had taught him how to recognize the pattern of an individual's footsteps, and even without training, he had heard those shoes against the floor for so many years that he could have recognized their owner anywhere.

"Hello, Alfred."

"You got me again, sir."

"You tried leading with your left foot again." Batman smirked. "It's been awhile since you tried to fool me."

"With all due respect, sir, I was worried that your project concerning young Master Martin had distracted you from all else."

Bruce looked up as his butler placed a tray of food next to him. Then he looked at the time. He did need to eat. Bringing his attention back to the screen, he began typing with one hand, while picking up his food with the other. Alfred waited patiently behind him.

"What is it, Alfred?"

"Sir." Alfred began, a hint of trepidation in his voice. "Braedey Martin is not Bruce Wayne."

Bruce turned around and gave his butler a sharp look. "Are you so sure, Alfred? He lost his family, the girl he loved, everyone who was important to him. How is he not like me?"

"Is that why you are helping him?"

Batman gestured to the computer screen. Under Braedey's image was his age, birthday, and every important fact needed in an identity.

"When my parents died, I was left millions of dollars, I was the heir to an incredibly successful company, and I had a home. Braedey is from another universe. He has nothing. He doesn't exist in this universe. Not even his hometown exists here. This way, he can at least have an identity. He can have a normal life."